01-05-2005, 10:38 PM | #671 |
Trash Goblin
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The dark was all i had,
the dark that consumed it all. the dark that wounds, the dark that bleeds, the dark that cuts the soul. the dark i turned away from, the dark my face broke free from, the dark that i left behind, the dark that gripped my path, the dark that the face blew away. the dark was receded by the light, the dark was torn away. the dark was broken the dark was shattered, The dark was left behind. The dark one a blow the dark hit me to the core the dark dragged me back, the dark took me screaming and crying, the dark stole me back from the light. The dark receded, the dark was stalled, the dark released it's hold. the dark was chased back the dark watched me cry in your arms. The dark watches me stand, the dark no longer has claim the dark sees me turn away, the dark sees me walk the dark no longer sees me at all. I write poetry off and on for a living right now. I also write novels. tell me what you think please. |
01-06-2005, 10:55 PM | #672 |
Sent to the cornfield
Join Date: Apr 2004
Location: Las Vegas
Posts: 4,566
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how exactly do you get payed for writing poetry?
I've been looking into doing that myself, I've got a rather sizable body of work, and wanted to get it looked at by someone. my honest opinion is that I don't like this poem. The repetition is overwhelming. There isn't specific enough of a message to make the repetition meaningful. Maybe I feel this way because it is so different from my own style, but if someones willing to pay you for it, you really don't have to listen to me. phrased in ways that ask for pause that beg for deepest inspection flourished words that leave in awe conversations oblique direction never failing to confuse alternative to wise critique is claiming to have higher views and never a clear word speak brandishing an effigy in script instead of clay bewildered readers remedy these words left to decay |
01-07-2005, 09:32 PM | #673 |
Enigma
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I can't live, I don't want to be alone
I know I can't make it on my own There isn't anyone there I can hold or that I can love, making me cold Countless times I've felt this way I don't want to feel this another day They say what doesn't kill you makes you stronger but it's killed me and I won't live any longer I don't want to hurt and I don't want to feel I don't want to know about something that's not real No more longing over someone I need Cut my life open and make all bleed All slips away till there's nothing left Knowing there's no pain after death No regret, sadness or feelings I abhor When I become something that is no more.
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The Mirror Empire has a population of zero. Even I grow tired of myself. |
01-08-2005, 02:29 PM | #674 |
Sent to the cornfield
Join Date: Apr 2004
Location: Las Vegas
Posts: 4,566
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not good enough
not really trying more excuses forthcoming I just don't want to think right now maybe later I'll expend some effort on trying to convince you that I'm better than this but why? I don't really care what you think just something to do I guess I don't know... |
01-08-2005, 06:53 PM | #675 |
Dracomancer
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Decisions up in the air
Make you easily beware That many things could go wrong No matter if worked on long Someone could be happy or sad Or maybe even go off mad But when all things are said and done Nothing of this process is fun |
01-09-2005, 02:39 AM | #676 |
Sent to the cornfield
Join Date: Apr 2004
Location: Las Vegas
Posts: 4,566
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The Death I Fell in Love With
I fell in love
and falling is such that when you hit the pain is all you know for that moment in a flash of white impact what was her name? all I have is this face in my dream or maybe dream's interpretation she was so lovely beautiful I don't want to cry its all I ever needed the light I can not touch lingering despite impending catastrophe and through the terror love I will call her by names reserved for gods she is Death who meets us all at the end alone with her smile so cold distant and inviting smeared lipstick and pale skin an image I created hubris she does it for me in an act of kindness the very first and my last I want to go my head within her arms oblivion this was inspired by the Neil Gaiman character Death of the sandman series, and the various illustrations of her by numerous authors. every rendition is so beautiful, and I can't help but want to cry for some reason everytime I see her. just to clarify, not a suicide poem, I hate those! Last edited by Funka Genocide; 01-09-2005 at 02:42 AM. |
01-09-2005, 07:47 PM | #677 |
Trash Goblin
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okay, to clarify, you need to have someone who wants your poetry to buy it, and your stuff is too friggin' awesome! your best bet is to look into making a site for peom commisions, or just publish it in bookie form. I sell short novellas and do up fancy calligraphy style, frame it, the whole nine yards. That was one of my few rep poems. this one i did for a friend who thought i was going to kill myself after i had a rough break up.
oh the torments of my soul the tearing of my heart for though i know of love my heart can't learn the art My head is empty with thoughts of you my heart is dying fast i reach to you with outstretched arm my hand for you to clasp you push away and leave me hanging I curl upon myself my hope of life dies away my heart flame is snuffed though my soul is hurt and my hand unclasped, still my love is strong, still my soul shall last. |
01-09-2005, 08:36 PM | #678 |
Sent to the cornfield
Join Date: Apr 2004
Location: Las Vegas
Posts: 4,566
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I loved that one, incidentally.
I have a blog that I post some things on, but nobody ever reads it. I'll probably hace to actually start talking to someone one of these days, I'm just too damn antisocial. (ask Osterbaum about that) five minute poem #? they climb as high as allowed by fate or dumbest luck a corporate ladder strung with rungs representing people stepped on beneath the heels of shoes so fine weep tortured souls who pine for release from hellish work but the cubical will not relent its hold is undeniable its power, absolute work suxxors my nuxxors. |
01-09-2005, 09:49 PM | #679 |
Oh hi! :D
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The bracelet I wear
Beautiful chained design Interlocked and twisted Wonderful and terrible reminder An old thing it is The gold has worn off Fine dusting around my wrist Yet I wear it proudly This is more than some metal This is more than some charm This will always be more than simplicity Even when they're 'better' ones out there Far more precious than some petty bauble This last link to the one who gave up everything And everything that I remember Is connected to this old bracelet For though it barely fits For though it pinches my wrist For all of the mild annoyances I will still wear this broken memory It is all that is left From a childhood long forgotten... Another: This fool does not know Why is it that he just shows Such 'painful' discontent, wallowing in sympathy For the violin of sadness, he has a symphany Come on, wake up! Take a look around! There is more than your sadness in town. Try to be grateful, you are not one of a kind. Don't think all about what you have in mind! If you can't get away then at least try. Don't just sit in your corner and sigh Think outside the box, it will be okay If what you are 'suffering' is the worst... Then what's out there can't hurt you anyway. Last edited by BlackMageGirl!; 01-09-2005 at 10:04 PM. |
01-10-2005, 01:46 PM | #680 |
Stranger in a strange land.
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The moonlit shadows
From places hallowed Finds the way within my patience, worn thin by the passage of time around me, causing crime to rise within my mind... And I crossed the line.
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You know, I'd put up something witty and clever right now, but eh. I'm lazy.
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