Poetry Corner

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Post some of your favorite poems or one you yourself has written.
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shiftycomfort

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shiftycomfort

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@AlmostHalf10
Wholly shit, that's awsome. I am scared of spoken word, as in I get nervous preforming my poetry, so I assume I would have a tough time with it, that being said I very much appreciate for your work for the content and for the fact that it takes alot to put your self on display with your work as apposed to the safety of written poetry with a pen name. But over all I love this one.
 
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Jaded Dreams

unfvck the world.
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"There's a man in the woods.
What a spectacle.
Before the stories started, this school was still respectable.
My students used to skip down the hill to the honeysuckle Pluck a couple,
And collect their nectar till they picked their fill.
Except one obnoxious kid, Sid.
Who just watched them eat the flowers
While he seethed and scowled
Cause he couldn't bear to share his sweet treats throught out our recess hour.
I remember Sid saying: "There's a man in the woods!"
That's how the rumors began.
Of course, Sid had spotted him first.
The poor kids. He got 'em immersed in his spiel
About a serial killer whose gun barrel glint hint said peril.
A visit to the nurse, or worse, a hearse, Waiting just beyond the dale(dell).
The children saw him everywhere. "Look! Over there!"
"That man had Batman ears! We - we swear!"
"And crazy yellow eyes!"
"We saw something rusty! His shotgun? It must be!"
"I saw a lady's severed thigh!"
Trust me, Every word I heard was absurd.
Yet each day, Sid would stray down
Way past the playground.
Who else was brave enough to save us from the killer's next plot?
The rest of the lot would stop back at the black top,
Sure that any closer they were bound to be found
Deep in the woods, left to rot.
I pleaded for the kids to think,
And learn to be mature,
But after a few more rumors doomed my attempts to prove
The school was secure: Their fear was undeterred.
And when the buses drove them all home, The parents finally heard.
Everything just blew up. I received a wall Of emails and calls
Full of shrieks, wails, and all, From terrified families
Who'd heard word of the murderer, And didn't like my lack of action at all.
What was I supposed to do?
Comb the whole forest?
Yeah, right. Would you?
That means I didn't care?
That's not fair!
The stories that worried you weren't true.
Of course I would feel regret,
Had there been a real threat And I ignored it,
And some poor kid got kidnapped While the kids were napping.
But you couldn't admit that your Good little kid Would formulate a fib
So you ignored what I said.
Your little angels could never cook up such incredible creations?
"An overactive imagination, maybe, but my kid could never lie!"
How dare I. Accuse a child of being dishonest? Just monstrous!
The parents were displeased,
And when the PTA took action, they dismissed me from the classroom.
Like THEY knew what was best for their kids!
Do you know how difficult it is to get a job When a bitter mom
Slanders your rep
With child neglect From the outset?
NOW who's in control of your classes?!
Single file lines! Single file lines.
Little vile swine, A killer by the pines,
Really? Are you blind?
Will you find your spines?
Sid. A child decides To fill our minds with lies
And the next you see Is people treating me
Like I've committed crimes.
I WAS IN MY PRIME!
Those kids were lucky to have me.
Do you see what you did?!
But I can play along. I can be good.
Do you hear that, Sid?
There's a man in the woods." - Jacob Streilein
 
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shiftycomfort

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@Jaded Dreams
Nice poem, I love the rhythm to it. I usually lose my patience (and avoid reading, I am frustrated with myslef by this) with long poems. But this one changed my mind about that. Is that yours, if so props, if not props for posting your good taste, more please, of the last poet or more of what you like. Always looking to find something new.
 
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kliffi

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she came crumbling down the stairs
just like a throw of fairy dice
fumbling her magic
slipping on imaginary ice

in and out of step-ball-change
she rearranged the living room
liquid figurine
popcorn popping on the trampoline

butterfly geometry
she looked at me through scattered eyes
sprays of playing cards
falling on the hallway carpet
 
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Deleted member 2040

There are blows in life, so powerful...I don't know!
Blows as from the hatred of God; as if, facing them,
the undertow of everything suffered
welled up in the soul...I don't know!

They are few; but they are.... They open dark trenches
in the fiercest face and in the strongest back.
Perhaps they are the colts of barbaric Attilas;
or the black heralds sent to us by Death.

They are the deep falls of the Christs of the soul,
of some adored faith blasphemed by Destiny.
Those bloodstained blows are the crackling of
bread burning up at the oven door.

And man.... Poor...poor! He turns his eyes, as
when a slap on the shoulder summons us;
turns his crazed eyes, and everything lived
wells up, like a pool of guilt, in his look.

There are blows in life, so powerful...I don't know!

- The Black Heralds by Cesar Vallejo (1919)

One of the most profound poems ever written on human suffering. IMO, Cesar Vallejo was the most profound and avant-garde poet of the 20th century.
 

Deleted member 2040

Post some of your favorite poems or one you yourself has written.
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I'm quite shy about most of my work, but here's one of my latest (dregs) experimental poem I've written. It's personal, but I'd appreciate any feedback or thoughts:


Sapped of strength, bare bushes buried in snow

Flayed shreds of bark sprinkled by the dark eyed juncos

Who chase the crows from the carrion stink,

The stench which wont leave,

The stench which can't leave,

Rounding o's like frozen pith's of these bare bushes buried in snow

Death and it's quiet voracity echo

Echo in bones both death and alive

Hollow hearts which beat to pump

To course though plumbing which plumbs no depths

Other that it's own,

Take these shards of broken glass, of a million scintillating images

And taste the gash of conscience,

The image which never leaves

That which can't be ground into the mud,

Wastelands, anti-human animals

Wanderer forever in realms of ignorance

Forever alone, forever alone,

No consolation, no hatred, no anger, stripped of those windbeaten rags

Scurfed by sweat and stink of animal fear,

Stretch yourself, lay yourself bare and lap the last of words

The last lickspittles of moisture

And part with the parts of mind

And stare into death, stare into what lies beyond.

-Me.
 

Deleted member 2040

Gabriel is blowing his trumpet,can't you hear the sweet sound of it.The sweet sound of the ending to us,Gods kingdom opens in our eyes but we were to blind to see it.You will punished by his wrath.--MANMANPLEASE
Reminds me of the (not so vaporwave) Behemoth song Gabriel Blow Your Trumpets, one of my favorite by them (I love the whole album!) The music video is pretty KVLT too.

 

Deleted member 2040

she came crumbling down the stairs
just like a throw of fairy dice
fumbling her magic
slipping on imaginary ice

in and out of step-ball-change
she rearranged the living room
liquid figurine
popcorn popping on the trampoline

butterfly geometry
she looked at me through scattered eyes
sprays of playing cards
falling on the hallway carpet
oooh, very very good. I smell delicious French Decadence with a hint of Symbolism here. :JunkoLewd:
Is this yours?
 

Deleted member 2040

to me it reminds me more of a man in a robe blowing a horn on a cliff
I can see that too. Do you have any thing else in similar vein - if you're comfortable sharing? That sort of imagery is something I'm currently into.
 

kliffi

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