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Poetry Corner https://metalreviews.com/phpBB/viewtopic.php?f=11&t=8860 |
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Author: | mentalmark [ Thu Mar 15, 2007 1:16 pm ] |
Post subject: | Poetry Corner |
I'm looking to go to Uni and do creative writing later this year and have noticed that there is a love for creative writing/poetry here. My philosophy is that whatever you want to write is gonna be it's own work of art. For replies and opinions, remember that whatever you comment on is personal to the writer, so don't start flame wars by being unconstructive and insulting if you don't like something. For example if I wrote: "As I stare at the scarlet embers on the horizon, my soul comforts itself By feeling the shroud of twilight encompass me from the east. My mind sings melodies from vikings of yore- 'Thor! Strike down thy mighty hammer to create a storm!'" Don't say - 'That's pretentious bullshit, you're talking through your arse!' Try - 'Dude, that's a bit vague, doesn't work for me because it sounds like you're trying too hard and it's cliched.' To reiterate, whatever you post, remember you're sharing your art and don't take things personally if a reply is not to your liking as what you say is good for you, so it can never be wrong or right. ![]() |
Author: | mentalmark [ Thu Mar 15, 2007 3:30 pm ] |
Post subject: | |
Rejection Aftermath The embers around me still burn and my after thought, Of the devastation I have cast down on to my mortal soul, Is 'I'm reduced to nothing and it's from what I had been taught - To lose my identity and compromise my being will make me whole.' That lesson neither gave me guidance nor satisfaction, As we're told by the faceless to march on with militant conform. My heart and soul wavered under my own distraction And the scars I now wear are still blistered and warm. The kingdom I'd built was like a glorious testament To the blood and brooding tears I'd shed to reach such pinnacle. The foundation was weak, though; the love was not meant, And my wry smile has started to sneer cynical Distaste at the foolishness I feel right now to life. Oh, I had toiled to build an empire - a fort around myself - To provide for my future children and my loyal wife, But it cost me much more. Much more than all my wealth. ...And here I stand amongst the rubble of broken dreams, That was shared with another but turned out not to be. So distrusting am I now as nothing appears as it seems And my own enemy is turning out to be noone else but me. The resurgence must be resplendent if I am to rise Or damned I'll be in destruction; fate will be on the end of a rope. To find strength to change or become what I despise. Maybe I can rebuild or maybe I've gone past hope... NB: I've freestyled this poem just now and, for those who don't know, I've just split from my 'ex' and am selling my house to rebuild my life in my home town, hence the depressive feel to it. Also know that I'm aware that it also sounds a bit 'emo-fag', but I wouldn't ever harm myself as that's gay. Besides I want to publish my notes and poetry one day, so I've got too much to live for! |
Author: | Kathaarian [ Thu Mar 15, 2007 3:55 pm ] |
Post subject: | |
torn between two biscuits lemon or chocolate masturbation gay superman whoa was that a squirrel? true story. edit: sorry if I'm beng a jerk but this isn't my computer and that's all I can do in 2 seconds. I'll post something serious later. |
Author: | mentalmark [ Thu Mar 15, 2007 4:06 pm ] |
Post subject: | |
Kathaarian wrote: torn between two biscuits
lemon or chocolate masturbation gay superman whoa was that a squirrel? true story. edit: sorry if I'm beng a jerk but this isn't my computer and that's all I can do in 2 seconds. I'll post something serious later. ![]() ![]() ![]() |
Author: | SilkCrimsonMoon [ Thu Mar 15, 2007 5:22 pm ] |
Post subject: | |
It Glows… Through nights of the gathered beauty, it grew. In the prey of the ambitious dementia, lays two divine mortals of sheer nothingness and the Nobel serenity with profound dimensions of being. A sign of knowledge reveals the inner-self presents with the withered yet survival Hope. With joyful tears I resembled the infinite self-destructiveness and the new built maze of the shinning levels of purity, demise and the vital glorious: fire. While the thoughts of purity yet battle with the endless mourning of agonizing serenity and layers of solitude, it stands far away from the reflections but conveys the vacuum of Will. Somewhere that time has found a new dimension… |
Author: | noodles [ Thu Mar 15, 2007 7:44 pm ] |
Post subject: | |
This is a haiku not a very thoughtful one one two three four five i am not very poetic, all i can do is string together big words "a myriad of souls, tortured by routine, departed on a voyage of melancholy destined by repetition". my girlfriend is obviously the poetic side of opposites attract |
Author: | Dago [ Thu Mar 15, 2007 8:30 pm ] |
Post subject: | |
A flying axe my head flies |
Author: | Tlaloc [ Fri Mar 16, 2007 4:19 am ] |
Post subject: | |
Mount Saint Bottom Ocean deep slumber Shot to the surface Eyes wide Seismic stomach The path is long Time is short Catastrophe averted Trying to hold back the tide Just relax Magma is my poop *applause* |
Author: | mentalmark [ Fri Mar 16, 2007 10:12 am ] |
Post subject: | |
Tlaloc wrote: Mount Saint Bottom
Ocean deep slumber Shot to the surface Eyes wide Seismic stomach The path is long Time is short Catastrophe averted Trying to hold back the tide Just relax Magma is my poop *applause* Brilliant! ![]() |
Author: | mentalmark [ Fri Mar 16, 2007 10:30 am ] |
Post subject: | |
Define Infinity wrote: It Glows…
Through nights of the gathered beauty, it grew. In the prey of the ambitious dementia, lays two divine mortals of sheer nothingness and the Nobel serenity with profound dimensions of being. A sign of knowledge reveals the inner-self presents with the withered yet survival Hope. With joyful tears I resembled the infinite self-destructiveness and the new built maze of the shinning levels of purity, demise and the vital glorious: fire. While the thoughts of purity yet battle with the endless mourning of agonizing serenity and layers of solitude, it stands far away from the reflections but conveys the vacuum of Will. Somewhere that time has found a new dimension… I can see where you're coming from here, it's like you're trying to convey a 'beginning, end a whole' type feel - an everything. Like birth perhaps? Like a realisation that we're born, as an entity, into an existance of infiniate misery, yet fragmented with hope? I used to write like this quite often, but I changed my style more like my poem earlier because I hope to hit a larger audience one day (I'm in Swansea where Dylan Thomas is synonymous) and a 'layman' style sometimes connects more with a different range of intellect, class and creed. But if you write only for you, that's super cool ![]() ![]() |
Author: | rio [ Fri Mar 16, 2007 10:33 am ] |
Post subject: | |
noodles wrote: This is a haiku
not a very thoughtful one one two three four five lololololol lololololololol lololololol |
Author: | mentalmark [ Fri Mar 16, 2007 10:50 am ] |
Post subject: | |
rio wrote: noodles wrote: This is a haiku not a very thoughtful one one two three four five lololololol lololololololol lololololol Dude, it's like I feel your digital pain. So to respond- 1100101100 00100 0010110001? ![]() |
Author: | Legacy Of The Night [ Fri Mar 16, 2007 11:10 am ] |
Post subject: | |
I enjoy haikus but sometimes they don't make sense refrigerator I'll copy rio by making a haiku post I'm original dot dot dot dot dot dot dot dot dot dot dot dot exclaimation point |
Author: | mentalmark [ Fri Mar 16, 2007 3:59 pm ] |
Post subject: | |
Token Verse Open your eyes, the dream has ended, But what a ride it was, what a rush! It was unbelievable and splendid And it stunned you into a into a hush - The silent realisation that noone is around. A remorseful moment of emptiness, But pick yourself up off the ground, Smile and realise your greatness! ![]() ![]() ![]() |
Author: | SilkCrimsonMoon [ Sat Mar 17, 2007 3:35 pm ] |
Post subject: | |
mentalmark wrote: Define Infinity wrote: It Glows… Through nights of the gathered beauty, it grew. In the prey of the ambitious dementia, lays two divine mortals of sheer nothingness and the Nobel serenity with profound dimensions of being. A sign of knowledge reveals the inner-self presents with the withered yet survival Hope. With joyful tears I resembled the infinite self-destructiveness and the new built maze of the shinning levels of purity, demise and the vital glorious: fire. While the thoughts of purity yet battle with the endless mourning of agonizing serenity and layers of solitude, it stands far away from the reflections but conveys the vacuum of Will. Somewhere that time has found a new dimension… I can see where you're coming from here, it's like you're trying to convey a 'beginning, end a whole' type feel - an everything. Like birth perhaps? Like a realisation that we're born, as an entity, into an existance of infiniate misery, yet fragmented with hope? I used to write like this quite often, but I changed my style more like my poem earlier because I hope to hit a larger audience one day (I'm in Swansea where Dylan Thomas is synonymous) and a 'layman' style sometimes connects more with a different range of intellect, class and creed. But if you write only for you, that's super cool ![]() ![]() Precisely. At least someone in these forums is understanding what I'm trying to convey. And yes, this certainly does not concern a massive part of the audience but maybe less than %10 of them. Cheers, man. |
Author: | Caligula_K [ Sat Mar 17, 2007 5:31 pm ] |
Post subject: | |
Here is a little poem I wrote for an anthology a while back: I Oh West Goat! Thou art so westerly Thou travelst not in ways east Nor dost thou go north Excepting then that thou goest west When caribous are playing basketball by the pool Thou givest them cheese to drink And the platypus to eat II Oh West Goat! Thou art made of sunsets And the cries of little children. There be no piece of grass Which thou dost not eat Thine eyes are like fire Thine bladder like a gall bladder Verily, hast thou not been a carrot cake? III Oh West Goat! When thou performst the Madison Thine moustache beith twice the width of Stalin’s And four times as edible When Khrushchev beist ill, Thine proud face lights up the Soviet Union And yea! Even Gorbachev shalt delight When Boris Yeltsin pukest in thine mouth IV Oh Jean Chrétien! Why must thou torment me so? With thine chiselled chest With thine manly breasts! When Paul Martin ruleth all And the West Goat is thine in marriage I, I shalt take the road less travelled by, And lick thine left nipple. Hope you all enjoyed it. Of course, this poem is very serious and will probably not be understood by the majority of you; it is extremely philosophical and if you can't understand it, its a failing on your part, not mine. Indeed, to further understand it, I reccomend reading Aristotle's Metaphysics, Descartes' Meditations on First Philosophy, Spinoza's Ethics and Hume's A Treatise of Human Nature. Only then will you be able to see my deep message. |
Author: | noodles [ Sat Mar 17, 2007 7:37 pm ] |
Post subject: | |
lolol@brahm's |
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