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INFP Poetry

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This is a discussion on INFP Poetry within the INFP Forum - The Idealists forums, part of the NF's Temperament Forum- The Dreamers category; "Wash" I wish I were light enough To be pulled in with the sand Into your crystal clear abyss I've ...

  1. #21

    "Wash"

    I wish I were light enough
    To be pulled in with the sand
    Into your crystal clear abyss
    I've known enough of the land
    I see rain threatening to come down
    But you keep making your design
    Always peacefully coexisting
    Steady back and forth with time

    I wish I were light enough
    I wish I could remove my weights
    But then again, I would forget
    How good you feel in the first place
    LittleDreamer, bekette24, Lord Pixel and 1 others thanked this post.

  2. #22

    Shadows of time flee from the sun
    From sweet, sweet lies your canvas hung
    Entire thoughts descend cacophonous
    Heart beating, moon screams, lost to lust

    Help me think of a title?

  3. #23

    "I set out to make a poem
    About the blueberry bushes in summer
    The way they tangle in my shoelaces
    And scratch tiny red lines along my thighs
    Catch the hem of summer dresses and pull
    Me down to lie in the cradle of the soft, damp earth

    I wanted to make a poem About the changing of seasons
    And the way winter brings about another year of lines
    To my face

    I wanted to make a poem About the choices I have made
    And have yet to make
    Must make
    Will make
    And the cost of each
    Some a farthing, some a guinea, some twenty eight pounds of solid gold
    Some my heart , some...my whole life

    I wanted to make a poem
    About the latest choice....
    that cost much, this winter ,
    that will catch me up with fingers and pull
    Me down to soft earth in summer

    But I cannot.
    I am not allowed to touch the pretty thing in the garden that calls my name.
    What is age but numbers following numbers?
    I can tell you what matters most is
    what lies in the heart of man each night
    as he closes his eyes, and the
    Name he praises with the sunrise .

    Are you just? Are you righteous? Are you the summer wildness
    I crave in the dead of winter monotony?
    Are you the anchored, steady breathing in the flurry of my life?

    I wish to write a poem so deep and long and wide and rich that
    ten thousand scholars search its meaning for ten thousand ages.

    I set out to write a poem of blueberry bushes in summer;
    let me tell you when I do."
    LittleDreamer, Lord Pixel and dlb thanked this post.

  4. #24

    My Haiku to compliment you all!

    Wow am I impressed
    So much talent in one thread
    You will all go far
    AppleJackzO, Polterguise, bekette24 and 1 others thanked this post.

  5. #25

    hah!
    LittleDreamer thanked this post.

  6. #26

    Quote Originally Posted by LittleDreamer View Post
    My Haiku to compliment you all!

    Wow am I impressed
    So much talent in one thread
    You will all go far
    Thank you so much :) That was really nice, and unexpected.
    LittleDreamer thanked this post.

  7. #27

    The Thief of Ember.
    The thief of embers, simmering heat, shedding light, a crimson beat.
    Unleashed darkness, hand of flame, to threaten all, himself to blame.
    A mere moment, crystallized in time, passed so fast, flames doused in brine.
    Regret aplenty, a boundless sadness, for one so lost, in his own madness.
    Like in all things, Time shall tell, it will be put to right, at the chiming bell.
    To dark places bound, torment undesigned, await the thief, he much maligned.
    For those that steal, their thirst to slake, shall meet their fate, of their own make!
    LittleDreamer thanked this post.

  8. #28

    Quote Originally Posted by Lord Fenix Wulfheart View Post
    The Thief of Ember.
    The thief of embers, simmering heat, shedding light, a crimson beat.
    Unleashed darkness, hand of flame, to threaten all, himself to blame.
    A mere moment, crystallized in time, passed so fast, flames doused in brine.
    Regret aplenty, a boundless sadness, for one so lost, in his own madness.
    Like in all things, Time shall tell, it will be put to right, at the chiming bell.
    To dark places bound, torment undesigned, await the thief, he much maligned.
    For those that steal, their thirst to slake, shall meet their fate, of their own make!
    A very interesting poem that takes several reads to fully absorb. I find it quite abstract, full of, to quote you, "mere moments, crystallized in time". It's like fragments of mirrors, or broken pictures. Just quick impressions. I like this style. I imagine a man alone, living on some desolate cliff above a beach, dwelling on his past. Just when he begins to feel hope or any kind of happiness, his own memories of whatever terrible deeds he may have done douse any embers of good feeling. He looks forward yet dreads the day when he, or the manifestation of his own failings his imagination has created, will be judged. Like the fire it describes, this poem feels passionate, and like the light of embers, it's somewhat dark. I enjoyed loosely analyzing (if it can be called that) your poem, not to mention reading it. Thanks for sharing!

  9. #29
    INFP

    Quote Originally Posted by bekette24 View Post
    "I set out to make a poem
    About the blueberry bushes in summer
    The way they tangle in my shoelaces
    And scratch tiny red lines along my thighs
    Catch the hem of summer dresses and pull
    Me down to lie in the cradle of the soft, damp earth

    I wanted to make a poem About the changing of seasons
    And the way winter brings about another year of lines
    To my face

    I wanted to make a poem About the choices I have made
    And have yet to make
    Must make
    Will make
    And the cost of each
    Some a farthing, some a guinea, some twenty eight pounds of solid gold
    Some my heart , some...my whole life

    I wanted to make a poem
    About the latest choice....
    that cost much, this winter ,
    that will catch me up with fingers and pull
    Me down to soft earth in summer

    But I cannot.
    I am not allowed to touch the pretty thing in the garden that calls my name.
    What is age but numbers following numbers?
    I can tell you what matters most is
    what lies in the heart of man each night
    as he closes his eyes, and the
    Name he praises with the sunrise .

    Are you just? Are you righteous? Are you the summer wildness
    I crave in the dead of winter monotony?
    Are you the anchored, steady breathing in the flurry of my life?

    I wish to write a poem so deep and long and wide and rich that
    ten thousand scholars search its meaning for ten thousand ages.

    I set out to write a poem of blueberry bushes in summer;
    let me tell you when I do."
    *claps*

    that, was beautiful.

  10. #30

    Quote Originally Posted by swordpaint24 View Post
    A very interesting poem that takes several reads to fully absorb. I find it quite abstract, full of, to quote you, "mere moments, crystallized in time". It's like fragments of mirrors, or broken pictures. Just quick impressions. I like this style. I imagine a man alone, living on some desolate cliff above a beach, dwelling on his past. Just when he begins to feel hope or any kind of happiness, his own memories of whatever terrible deeds he may have done douse any embers of good feeling. He looks forward yet dreads the day when he, or the manifestation of his own failings his imagination has created, will be judged. Like the fire it describes, this poem feels passionate, and like the light of embers, it's somewhat dark. I enjoyed loosely analyzing (if it can be called that) your poem, not to mention reading it. Thanks for sharing!
    That image is rather akin to the future I envision for the man the poem was about. If he lives that long, that is. He lives a dangerous life.


     
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