And poems goes here

The Core Media Forum
#86

Will or won’t be

What’s truth,What’s lies,
What’s fact,Whats fiction,
None of it matters,
It’ll all end in the end,
How fate has planned for us,
Wether there are bumps and jumps inbetween,
If it was meant to be or not to be,
It will or won’t be…
I love you…

For some,
It will be,Happily,
For some,
It won’t be,Dreadfully,
Hopefully,
We will be
Happily and not so dreadfully

This is meant to be a song,So all the stuff in brackets is stuff thaat is to be said at the end of the sentence

Petty For Pity
 
Your blind by your own light 
You can’t see the darkness in other people
But I do
Maybe you need to open your eyes 
Look around sweetheart
Take time to
‘Cause what you’ll see
Will come to you
And what you do
Will descend from you
Don’t blame others(for yourself)
When you’re the one to blame
You’ll fall apart
Inside your all the same
 
Thank you - for nothing and thank you for counting
The times when you failed and the times when you saw it
And beamed to warn me about the “condition” your in
So now you’re here, I’m here, and I see what’s within…
 
I hate you, and you’ll burn in hell
Just shut the fuck up and understand what’s real(Shut up)
You don’t understand
Your just not there 
We really don’t care
Understand it bitch, look inside and feel
Your perfectly fine and those scars will heal
They’re petty, for pity…
 
Maybe your just not understanding the point
Maybe there’s more than just the sharp end of the knife
Maybe your just not understanding the point
That the thing your dealing with is life!
 
Thank you - for nothing and thank you for counting
The times when you failed and the times when you saw it
And beamed to warn me about the “condition” your in
So now you’re here, I’m here, and I see what’s 
 
Thank you - for nothing and thank you for counting (Counting)
The times when you failed and the times when you saw it (Failed)
And beamed to warn me about the “condition” your in(Warn Me)
So now you’re here, I’m here, and I see what’s within…
#87

Dream of a time
love was worth something.
Dream of a time
when we were worth something.

I hear this noise in my mind
this song in my heart
something that reminds me of you
is this what love is?

I kept dreaming
of dieing, of being alone
wouldn’t that be nice I thought?
Nothing is more peaceful than death.

This love, all it does is mock me
It makes me believe in something
I know isn’t true,
it makes me count on something
I know will fade away.

I just want to float on by,
I just want to live my life
Alone

Things are so much simpler
when you can’t drag anyone down
with you into this abyss

You’ll never understand
someone as worthless as me, believe me,
I’ve tried.

So just go, and live, and let me die.

#88

Wishy-washy mannequin

Its guerilla consumption of feral sorcery
Betraying the cult against ephebophilic media conspiracy of focal paranoia
All florescent before the gardener

Busily in or fully frightened
You regurgitate the truth around bubblegum wings
Custodial and sexy about the mausoleum
They mock quiet children over the ditch
Eeeee! The pleasure is dying

Fleeting and rotund in the ground
I draw bright leeches among the tomb

Eh! The twilight has zoomed
Right thinking aside, the gray lunacy

trying to recall
a sense of dreams

From which parse
The why?

#89

My poetry is too good for this venue, and would be thought out of place, besides; but my purpose in posting is to demand a new platform for which poetry might be shared here. All this poetry in one contiguous thread leaves scant room and context for criticism, which is very important for the enjoyment and insight one might potentially get from this whole poetic enterprise.

I propose that it would be better if the individual poets collect a number of their works and post them in their own threads, from which a real dicussion of them can follow.

And now a critical reading: http://www.bartleby.com/200/sw4.html

Though the topic of the essay doesn’t quite apply here, it has a number of insightful comments on the nature of criticism.

And never compromise the rhythm.

#90

not too deep, just happy:

Blessings on thee, little man,
Barefoot boy, with cheek of tan!
With thy turned-up pantaloons,
And thy merry whistled tunes;
With thy red lip, redder still
Kissed by strawberries on the hill;
With the sunshine on thy face,
Through thy torn brim’s jaunty grace;
From my heart I give thee joy –
I was once a barefoot boy!
Prince thou art – the grown-up man
Only is republican.
Let the million-dollared ride!
Barefoot, trudging at his side,
Thou hast more than he can buy
In the reach of ear and eye –
Outward sunshine, inward joy:
Blessings on thee, barefoot boy!
O for boyhood’s painless play,
Sleep that wakes in laughing day,
Health that mocks the doctor’s rules,
Knowledge never learned of schools,
Of the wild bee’s morning chase,
Of the wild-flower’s time and place,
Flight of fowl and habitude
Of the tenants of the wood;
How the tortoise bears his shell,
How the woodchuck digs his cell,
And the ground-mole sinks his well;
How the robin feeds her young,
How the oriole’s nest is hung;
Where the whitest lilies blow,
Where the freshest berries grow,
Where the groundnut trails its vine,
Where the wood-grape’s clusters shine;
Of the black wasp’s cunning way,
Mason of his walls of clay,
And the architectural plans
Of great hornet artisans! –
For, eschewing books and tasks,
Nature answers all he asks;
Hand in hand with her he walks,
Face to face with her he talks,
Part and parcel of her joy –
Blessings on the barefoot boy!

Of for boyhood’s time of June,
Crowding years in one brief moon,
When all things I heard or saw,
Me, their master, waited for.
I was rich in flowers and trees,
Humming-birds and honey-bees;
For my sport the squirrel played,
Plied the snouted mole his spade;
For my taste the blackberry cone
Purpled over hedge and stone;
Laughed the brook for my delight
Through the day and through the night,
Whispering at the garden wall,
Talked with me from fall to fall;
Mine the sand-rimmed pickerel-pond,
Mine the walnut slopes beyond,
Mine, on bending orchard-trees,
Apples of Hesperides!
Still as my horizon grew,
Larger grew my riches too;
All the world I saw or knew
Seemed a complex Chinese toy,
Fashioned for a barefoot boy!

O for festal dainties spread,
Like my bowl of milk and bread –
Pewter spoon and bowl of wood,
On the door-stone, gray and rude!
O’er me, like a regal tent,
Cloudy-ribbed, the sunset bent,
Purple-curtained, fringed with gold,
Looped in many a wind-swung fold;
While for music came the play
Of the pied frogs’ orchestra;
And, to light the noisy choir,
Lit the fly his lamp of fire.
I was monarch: pomp and joy
Waited on the barefoot boy!

Cheerly, then, my little man,
Live and laugh, as boyhood can!
Though the flinty slopes be hard,
Stubble-speared the new-mown sward,
Every morn shall lead thee through
Fresh baptisms of the dew;
Every evening from thy feet
Shall the cool wind kiss the heat:
All too soon these feet must hide
In the prison-cells of pride,
Lose the freedom of the sod,
Like a colt’s for work be shod,
Made to tread the mills of toil,
Up and down in ceaseless moil.
Happy if their track be found
Never on forbidden ground;
Happy if they sink not in
Quick and treacherous sands of sin.
Ah! that thou couldest know thy joy,
Ere it passes, barefoot boy!

#91

I second your proposal.

#92

Im just a good friend with him. I thought it would be okay. :frowning:

#93

The problem with this idea is that it is a forum for fanart/fanfiction/fanmusic. These threads are here so there aren’t art and poem threads all over the place. It’s a nice idea, but I think you’re better off going to an actual poetry related forum for something like that.

Also, I find it funny that you say your poetry is too good for this venue. What do you have to lose to post it here? Get it criticised by people who aren’t on the same level as you? :stuck_out_tongue: More than half the stuff here isn’t critisized anyways…

#94

Try me.

By the way, I’ve always liked the Eliot essay.

#95

Indeed, if I simply wanted to read poetry, I would by much better off going to a different venue, and I do. Here my interest in poetry is combined with my interest in this community of which I have been an observer and sometimes contributer to for a number of years. I am interested in what these various personalities of yours have to produce. Also, it has been stated (and proven) that this particular forum is not only for fan-art of various sorts, but for all discussions of art, whether ‘fan-’ or not.

OK; I’ll share a poem or two of mine when I finish writing one, although you should take any self-aggrandizing statements I ever make with more than a bit of salt.

#96

Well, I wrote a poem a while back…alright, a couple weeks ago, and i havent gotten around to posting it. Any who, i normally dont share my poems which kinda defeats the whole purpose, but i shall post one. :slight_smile:

Confusion

My emotion is not clear
If sorrow I would have shed a tear.
Happiness was never it,
If it were so, then why does a smile not fit?
Anger was never my brother
Hatred was never towards another.
As i sit and ponder,
My mind can only wonder
What this thing is that taunts me so?
I must, I must know!
Why must it haunt me from within?
What did I do? What was my sin?
The answer came slow,
But i did eventually know.
The answer was near,
So why then did i have so much fear?
Why this thing i could not find,
I must have been blind.
Although my mind thought it an illusion,
It was just a common thing that is called confusion

Hope you liked it, if not…sorry for wasting your time.

#97

<b><u>Squeals</b></u> by Crotanks

A body full of curves
and of beautiful tone
The most beautiful neck,
for which my fingers are to caress
As she makes some of the most
beautiful noises one could ever hear.

Her tone raises as my fingers wrap around her neck
Making her squeal and screech in delight
As I pluck all of the right strings
To make her do as I wish.

Upon the end of “our time”
I place her gently on the bed,
As a man should do a woman,
And run a single finger down her neck
To the end of her body.

Then, I clean the guitar and put it up.

#98

Freya by Warsaw Pact

Hail Freya! You comfort me in my sadness,
You guide me though the darkness and light of love.
I pray for Your favor so I may never face You in shame.
I pray for your guidance when my heart is broken.
To look for love without Your blessing is no different than sailing without a compass.
Gold, amber, wine, flowers, honey, fire, iron, and passion are all Yours.
Let all things acknowledge this.

#99

Did you ever post a poem??

#100

Your poem looks nice.I like it.I can’t write poems.But i enjoy it.p:unch::

#101

(((Very loose freeverse poem that came to mind :slight_smile: Replies are more than welcome! ^.^)))

Sweet Escape

Nothing would have changed

My mind that day; not luck,

Love, or endless torrent of lust

So red. Not his touch, his

Smile or laugh so kind.

Would I be content with such

Endearing promise? With heartfelt

Light and power of passion.

Would that lock that keeps

Me hidden away break at

Such fair and innocent

Delight? Or would I perish

In shadow of trick and

Deceit, when words so

Sweet dissolve into bitter

And false euphoria.

Would my dreams of

Sweet escape and release

Be brought to life, or

Would they be squandered

By cruel and cold voids that

Are his lieng eyes. No, his

Poison will falter to meet

My strength, not this time

Will I lose my sight.

Nothing will change

My mind this day,

Not love . . .

#102

television celibacy behind sitcom sheets

i exist in fantasy highway
i exist in tree felling machine

the famine maggots eat second courses
while i eat a third of
KFC brand potato flavored glop and
manufactured chicken

nothing is green
in the land of the dead
pillowmonsters smother
winter children

i exist in tree felling machine
i exist in fantasy highway

#103

Well now I feel stupid for forgetting that this thread exists. >_<

I’ll have to remember next time if my rhyming habits persists.

Not to waste the opportunity.

#104

Cross the Line

Sittin here feeling breezy my mind is easy
Thinkin’ about what could be this night
My mind gets crazy as it tries to fight
keeping my thoughts from turning to you

There’s a line that’s fading away so quickly
I try so hard to keep it within sight
But do I want to? Do i really Want to?
Do I want to stay on that line or follow you away into so much more

Paths fade as we walk upon them
So many steps and you can only go so far
But when the path dissapears will you be there at the end
Will you be there to take me as I take you and will we fall into a dream?

Cross the line and make me your lover
Let’s put aside all the clutter and be one together
I’ll take your heart and give you mine
And we’ll drift away with the sun into the divine

#105

This is the story of a little ship
that took a little trip