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Discussion Starter #1
This is a shout out to the poets and the rappers and the sages, for words that go together tend to last through the ages, syllables and parables, ballads and rhymes, cuz there aint no better way to sort a notion of the mind. Shy or introverted, some day we'll all be dead, so take the time to hit me with your poems in this thread!!
 

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Battle Cries
by Dalien

The battles bruise her side

A forlorn warring cry

Another drowning victim to defy

History dares to confide

What is present in the past

This scarring is not the last

No less room to hide

Sorrow shows face in all its glory

New wounds awash an old story

Struggling against the ruins of another time

Strength rises forward

She commits no crime

Victory allows her to limp past a worn path

To be in peace with the aftermath​
 

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Lord of the Purple Shadows
by Horrible

Unlight, twilight, night begins,
Purple shadows dance in sin
In shame, in flames, in vanity
The sky is blue insanity

Unheard songbird, on frozen limb
As silent as the light is dim
Wind blows below, remote and chill
A host of shadows on powdered hill

Dispersed, rehearsed each breaking day
Night’s sweet shadows cease their play
Splintered, wintered, ice and snow
Night’s brief reign, the sun’s the foe

Apart with heart, one shade denies
That he must die with each sunrise
Stretching, fetching full of fight
Creeping to a kingly height

Twisted, fisted, one god alone
Against pale light at distance shone
Unseen, dawn’s gleam, defy the sun
Lord of shadows, slave to none
 

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Discussion Starter #5
Oh my fellows, you have ignited me with that which you have shared. Dalien the imagry and vibes of your poem totally hit the mark! The battle is fresh in mind. I can TASTE the struggle in this one. And im left curious what event or state of mind was cause to this eerie dance you've brought to us.

angelictroublemaker your work is very strong and down to earth, I got a feel for just what you were thinking when you wrote each three poems. The free verse is well done as all the syllables and pauses are in just the right places...and i wonder if you meant your spacing for que sera? if so it created some useful visuals to add to the jist of the piece! me likes, and the self-defining nature of 'a pledge of allegience' fares I know you better than i did before

ahhhhhh and last but not least master horrible. now this one is right up my alley. you sir are either a perfectionist or a genius! Not one syllable where it shouldnt be, and every word and its nature adheres to the unique flow of your purple lord. and your system beckons layers of literary complexity, complimented by keen observation and the use of mystery and metaphor. ahh i cackle with delight, your choice of words is so contemporary and cordial. ahhhhahaha!

ONE THANKS EACH IS NOT ENOUGH to express how happy I am that a few inched forward and took the bait. I will consult my records to share works of my past but several smaller i've committed to memory are as follows...(all in the making, potential starters i've never completed)

I play with strings a song that sings of kings, that diamond rings will never bring you wings..

As every new beginning is so sure to have its end, there will never be an end to new beginnings to transcend.

One seed makes one tree, bearing countless more seeds
Your thoughts are the seeds, and your actions are trees

Merci good friends. my poetic prowess is lagging from neglect, but shall I produce more it shall be posted (my ears will remain perked for inspiration as my best work visits me from thin air at random times) I expect the same from each of you,my fellow poets

and dont be a stranger, i bid you share any poem which has effected you profoundly over the years! as it happens it was a really good poem that pulled me into this forum....I believe it was 'the man in the glass' by dale wimbrow..posted by a fella i think went by the handle of Duke. I'll post it later if your curious.

THANKS again, and keep em comin folks!
 

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Be Yourself
by harM0NiZe

How do you fit a square peg into a round hole?
That's kinda like trying to change someone into something that they're not...
And most people know how that goes.

Because each person on this planet walks to the beat of their own drum.
How they walk to that beat might piss off a lot of people...
And it might only please some.

So should you merely follow the crowd or perhaps conform to the norm?
Can you really see yourself doing that?!
I mean seriously...ask yourself...are you prepared for that storm?!

On the other hand you can risk being singled out, talked about, and possibly even ridiculed.
For doing something that you believe in...
Things that might make you not look...cool

I'm just gonna tell you from the get go...
Stand there and take everything they throw at you.
Be yourself and be proud of who YOU are...
And most importantly....be TRUE to YOU!
 

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Oh my fellows, you have ignited me with that which you have shared. Dalien the imagry and vibes of your poem totally hit the mark! The battle is fresh in mind. I can TASTE the struggle in this one. And im left curious what event or state of mind was cause to this eerie dance you've brought to us.

ONE THANKS EACH IS NOT ENOUGH to express how happy I am that a few inched forward and took the bait. I will consult my records to share works of my past but several smaller i've committed to memory are as follows...(all in the making, potential starters i've never completed)

I play with strings a song that sings of kings, that diamond rings will never bring you wings..

As every new beginning is so sure to have its end, there will never be an end to new beginnings to transcend.

One seed makes one tree, bearing countless more seeds
Your thoughts are the seeds, and your actions are trees

Merci good friends. my poetic prowess is lagging from neglect, but shall I produce more it shall be posted (my ears will remain perked for inspiration as my best work visits me from thin air at random times) I expect the same from each of you,my fellow poets

and dont be a stranger, i bid you share any poem which has effected you profoundly over the years! as it happens it was a really good poem that pulled me into this forum....I believe it was 'the man in the glass' by dale wimbrow..posted by a fella i think went by the handle of Duke. I'll post it later if your curious.

THANKS again, and keep em comin folks!
Well my dear Raven...that is part of the power of a poem...wondering why it came to be. I believe poems are written to express a deep feeling by painting a story with words in a non-descript way; even though, the reader who thinks deeply understands the sense of it. I, also, believe one must have an open mind to be able to gather this perception. My poems are written so that the reader can identify, in their own way, with what I feel. What caused my eerie dance? You don't know? Soul pain but of course. Oh but I bet you want to know what that soul pain was/is!

Curiosity killed the cat, but the cat laughed back :wink:...When you mentioned 'The Man in the Glass' by Dale Wimbrow, I knew I had read it before. Well, heck, he has my name or do I have his? :laughing: So I took the liberty to look it up and post it for you. Yeppers, I have read it before! :happy: So, please do explain how this poem pulled you to this forum. Will my curiosity kill the cat again, and not laugh back? :laughing:

PS Oh, yeah, waiting with anticipation of one of your poems. :wink:


The Man In The Glass
Peter "Dale" Winbrow Sr

When you get what you want in your struggle for self
And the world makes you king for a day,
Just go to the mirror and look at yourself
And see what that man has to say.

For it isn't your father or mother or wife
Whose judgment upon you must pass.
The fellow whose verdict counts most in you life
Is the one staring back from the glass.

You may be like Jack Horner and chisel a plum
And think you're a wonderful guy.
But the man in the glass says you're only a bum
If you can't look him straight in the eye.

He's the fellow to please-never mind all the rest,
For he's with you clear to the end.
And you've passed your most dangerous, difficult test
If the man in the glass is your friend.

You may fool the whole world down the pathway of years
And get pats on the back as you pass.
But your final reward will be heartache and tears
If you've cheated the man in the glass.
 

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wow I'm feeling very inspired!

Here is a poem of mine. I don't know much about structure when it comes to poetry I just write what I feel. Constructive criticism is welcome!

The Happy Smiling Clown


The Happy Smiling Clown they say
Wonders miserably this way.
Oh for what reason his smile doth fade
None other than for the wondering stage.

They say to the Happy Smiling Clown,
Who is now but tortured by his frown,
What is this wondering stage of which you speak?
How can it make you feel so bleak?

The clown but mopes and trugdes by,
Without even a teary reply.
But then he stops, he turns and says:

This wondering stage of which I speak
Is far too distant for a clown like I to seek.
I have become so old as time has passed
That my smile is fading quick and fast

But your stage is here! The people cry.
Now wipe away those watery eyes.
Paint on your happy smiling face and
Think nothing more of this distant place
 

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Discussion Starter #12
oh i've done some nasty things in my day, the roller coaster of life refuses to go up at a steady pace(or i refuse to allow it to do so) it is in this way i see the merit of learning who i am and befriending and impressing myself. and having trodden down the trail of self-loathing/discust/betrayal i am most impressed by dales words.

The poem was the straw that broke the camels back, when people make sense to you, you want more of them, I had anonymously recieved enough enjoyment and encouragement from the environment that i couldnt resist slithering out of my shell to join the fun.

damn! now the pressure is on mr.raven. time to trade your twigs for a pens, and your worms for words. these disjointed koans just wont do.
 

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I would like to thank you for your kind words, Raven, and to commend you on such an inspiring thread. How else shall we have coaxed such a wonderful array of contributions (and they are all of them marvelous)? Well done. Like Dalien, your brief lines have left me eager for a more substantial taste of your work. Whatever it is expressing, be it humor or tragedy, joy or sorrow, poetry is truly the stuff of life.

Though I have never really studied it, and make innumerable mistakes (is there a correct way?), I wrote a considerable amount of poetry in my youth, though I have now turned more toward prose as my chosen medium of expression. Nevertheless, I do have a few poems scattered here and there, and I still churn out the occasional humorous poem when I am sufficiently inspired. Alas, the muse becomes ever more difficult to invoke with each passing year. Just lately she has become mired in the everyday trivialities of life; buried under layer upon layer of worry, apathy, and ennui.

Here is a poem I wrote for another forum some years ago. It is inspired by Speak Like a Pirate Day. Mundane? Perhaps. Fun to write? Without a doubt. Who can say from whence inspiration strikes?

The Ballad of the Reluctant Bride

Draw near and hear this legend true,
Of Zasha Alaboard.
The rudest, crudest pirate shrew,
To ever wield a sword.

Brassy, sassy, full of pluck,
A brigand to the last.
Duly unruly and blessed with luck,
From main to mizzen-mast.

Tameless, shameless, no man could catch,
This saucy harridan.
Until her will did meet its match-
A lubbin’ justice man!

While at trial, they met and rhymed,
And formed a splendid bundle.
With glee he freed her of her crime,
And bore her off to trundle.

Gooseflesh broke fresh upon her neck,
He proved both spry and limber.
With care quite rare he swabbed her deck,
And shivered every timber.

“Ahoy!” with joy she cried and wept,
Glad tears upon the bed.
Cockcrow, day glow, they hadn’t slept,
Zasha agreed to wed.

And now the vows are written out,
A telling testimony,
The nights’ delights distract her from,
Impending matrimony.

Grounded, bounded, her soul decays,
Her heart is still alee.
Engaged, encaged, she spends her days,
In longing for the sea.

At last, too fast, the day arrives,
Her cheek the sun does kiss.
And then her skin breaks into hives,
To think of landlocked bliss.

The morn with scorn she greets and yawns,
Her freedom is fast fading.
The first, the worst of many dawns,
She’ll go no more a-raiding.

The brine it pines within her veins,
Her courage it is failing.
It yearns, it burns for soft sea rains
She’d rather be a-sailing.

With haste not waste, she takes to flight,
And quickly steals away.
A sail unveiled, a distant sight,
She hurries to the bay.

The groom presumes when he returns,
To find an anxious bride.
Instead, she‘s fled he finds and learns,
The betrothal’s been denied.

The moral‘s floral, and here it goes:
It’s impossible indeed,
To sow and grow a gentle rose,
From a wildflower seed.
 

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Discussion Starter #14
Thanks umbrellasky. thats a great poem and a super insightful story. I can relate to your sad clown. do we not at times lose our way..? you are skilled indeed, and i welcome more of your work!

horribleaesthete that poem is rocking my socks off. the flow and clarity of your tale is most welcome in this place.

indeed i couldnt resist attempting to draw the poets together. I saw no thread relating to this and i find the rhymes to be every so intersting.

Alright ladies and gentlemen I give you..

Happily Insane

what i try to say
is that i edge my separate way
as if somehow
with soul allowed
i could reach out
to seize the day
to be tuned
with mind in sway
and walk the plains of silver grey..

that is to claim
that i dont want to be the same
so here and now
I take the vow
always to be
my final aim-
use 'what is'
to feed the flame
let the fire fuel the game

i cant be tame
to have a mind within a frame
freedom endowed
i am a cloud
and seek the skies
without a name
far above
being ashamed
no one to give or take the blame

open is the brain
such things uneasy to explain
admit to thou
a leaking brow
and I shall not
return again
and to you
i must proclaim
that i am happily insane
 

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Like umbrellasky, I have no formal training and I only started writing earlier this year...didn't know I had it in me. So far, everything that I've written has been strictly based on life experiences and so...without further ado, I give you:

Lessons Learned (pardon the profanity at the end :blushed:)
by harM0NiZe

Sometimes the worst things to happen to me are actually a blessing in disguise.
Of course I don't see that right away...
I have to reflect, contemplate, and come to realize.

That the things that did happen really happened for the best.
Even if it didn't go my way...
It was unrecognized opportunity and waayyyy more than just a test.

It's true that I didn't really realize what I had until it was gone.
But I'm thankful for those bad experiences...
Because now I know what I did right and more importantly what I did wrong.

There were underlying issues I wasn't aware of and others I chose not to face
And as much as I hate saying this sh*t..."Things happen for a reason"
And the most important reason of them all....was to learn from my mistakes.
 

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I would like to thank you for your kind words, Raven, and to commend you on such an inspiring thread. How else shall we have coaxed such a wonderful array of contributions (and they are all of them marvelous)? Well done. Like Dalien, your brief lines have left me eager for a more substantial taste of your work. Whatever it is expressing, be it humor or tragedy, joy or sorrow, poetry is truly the stuff of life.

Though I have never really studied it, and make innumerable mistakes (is there a correct way?), I wrote a considerable amount of poetry in my youth, though I have now turned more toward prose as my chosen medium of expression. Nevertheless, I do have a few poems scattered here and there, and I still churn out the occasional humorous poem when I am sufficiently inspired. Alas, the muse becomes ever more difficult to invoke with each passing year. Just lately she has become mired in the everyday trivialities of life; buried under layer upon layer of worry, apathy, and ennui.

Here is a poem I wrote for another forum some years ago. It is inspired by Speak Like a Pirate Day. Mundane? Perhaps. Fun to write? Without a doubt. Who can say from whence inspiration strikes?

The Ballad of the Reluctant Bride

Draw near and hear this legend true,
Of Zasha Alaboard.
The rudest, crudest pirate shrew,
To ever wield a sword.

Brassy, sassy, full of pluck,
A brigand to the last.
Duly unruly and blessed with luck,
From main to mizzen-mast.

Tameless, shameless, no man could catch,
This saucy harridan.
Until her will did meet its match-
A lubbin’ justice man!

While at trial, they met and rhymed,
And formed a splendid bundle.
With glee he freed her of her crime,
And bore her off to trundle.

Gooseflesh broke fresh upon her neck,
He proved both spry and limber.
With care quite rare he swabbed her deck,
And shivered every timber.

“Ahoy!” with joy she cried and wept,
Glad tears upon the bed.
Cockcrow, day glow, they hadn’t slept,
Zasha agreed to wed.

And now the vows are written out,
A telling testimony,
The nights’ delights distract her from,
Impending matrimony.

Grounded, bounded, her soul decays,
Her heart is still alee.
Engaged, encaged, she spends her days,
In longing for the sea.

At last, too fast, the day arrives,
Her cheek the sun does kiss.
And then her skin breaks into hives,
To think of landlocked bliss.

The morn with scorn she greets and yawns,
Her freedom is fast fading.
The first, the worst of many dawns,
She’ll go no more a-raiding.

The brine it pines within her veins,
Her courage it is failing.
It yearns, it burns for soft sea rains
She’d rather be a-sailing.

With haste not waste, she takes to flight,
And quickly steals away.
A sail unveiled, a distant sight,
She hurries to the bay.

The groom presumes when he returns,
To find an anxious bride.
Instead, she‘s fled he finds and learns,
The betrothal’s been denied.

The moral‘s floral, and here it goes:
It’s impossible indeed,
To sow and grow a gentle rose,
From a wildflower seed.
Beautiful!
 
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Discussion Starter #17
Like umbrellasky, I have no formal training and I only started writing earlier this year...didn't know I had it in me. So far, everything that I've written has been strictly based on life experiences and so...without further ado, I give you:

Lessons Learned (pardon the profanity at the end :blushed:)
by harM0NiZe

Sometimes the worst things to happen to me are actually a blessing in disguise.
Of course I don't see that right away...
I have to reflect, contemplate, and come to realize.

That the things that did happen really happened for the best.
Even if it didn't go my way...
It was unrecognized opportunity and waayyyy more than just a test.

It's true that I didn't really realize what I had until it was gone.
But I'm thankful for those bad experiences...
Because now I know what I did right and more importantly what I did wrong.

There were underlying issues I wasn't aware of and others I chose not to face
And as much as I hate saying this sh*t..."Things happen for a reason"
And the most important reason of them all....was to learn from my mistakes.
that is awesum harMONiZe. untrained poets are the best. i am also not formally instructed in such arts, and that doesnt keep me from being a messy eccentric amateur linquist. thanks a bundle for joining the living poets society. we grow stronger by the day! (and i vote for more swears, angry ones! nothing better for expressing those emotions which are indeed rated NC17 at best)
 

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Forgive me all, for here I do not ryhme. I dare to step out of the box...I'd rather be in a circle. Yes, I am being cheeky! :wink:

Umbreallasky and harMONiZE, I have had no training what-so-ever. I enjoyed both poems. They were written from within. To me that is what it is all about. I write me. Keep writing! Looking forward to more. :happy:

Raven not written with you in mind, but with me in mind. I think you need this one.

Shattered
by Dalien (20 Oct. 2009)

My hands are empty
My heart has shattered
Shards of glass so fragile
I do not bend
I stand staring
Pieces lay below

My hands will bleed
My soul can not wither
A jagged puzzle demands
I gather my senses
I still can not move
Lost in memories

My hands reach out
My mind pulls away
Curtains keep revealing
I still have to look
I search for answers
No one tells

My hands are full
My being screams quietly
A window whispers forgiveness
I sway softly
I listen intently
Love knows all
 

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Discussion Starter #19
sweet jesus and his many fine deeds what a poem! ahh the resonance! it has a way of calming the nerves, and a happy ending no less! your efforts bless my nest. a merci m'lady

*sigh* alas if love knows all i know very little (not counting my cats, i know very much as far as they are concerned)
 

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i vote for more swears, angry ones! nothing better for expressing those emotions which are indeed rated NC17 at best)
Ask and you shall receive (the more swears part that is :laughing:). One of my first pieces that I've ever written:

Insanity
by harM0NiZe

Will someone please release me from this crazy dream?!
I can’t think straight...
Things are not what they seem!

I know this isn’t real...
But still I wonder why?!
My heart feels this way...
No I can not deny!

This sh*t is insane...
It comes & go’s!
I’m good one minute...
and the next I don’t know...

Which do I listen to...
My heart or my mind?
I’m so f’n twisted
Damn it I’m in a bind!

And still I know...
Who holds the key.
Will you please come forward...
And set my heart free?!

Thanks RaVenDeaLeR for creating this thread. I'm enjoying reading other peoples work and agree that untrained poets are the best. Something about the rawness makes me gravitate towards it.

Dalien - I really enjoyed your last piece. The no-rhyme approach was refreshing to me. Something about the second verse....wow really deep!
 
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