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ENFP, so/s_, Cosmic
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Discussion Starter #921
Far flung skies emasculate
a pocket full of cellophane
Dishes attack the tongue that roams
like settlers worshipping the foam
Spinning off into a breeze
the blind bird sings of its quaint disease
The napkin falls upon the sun
The beetle pushes forth its dung

Black winds blow
Large moths glow
Doors rattle
Windows bang
20 cattle roll and hang... fish on a hook
They got the idea from a book

The Ottoman grand vizier
took his legs off
Cough! Cough! Cough!
Off flew his nose
Now, to nasal operatives, he's been left exposed
 

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It's time to go to sleep; it's getting late.
I must to bed. This is no time to write!
But I must write a poem. Sleep can wait
Another minute...

Almost done...

Goodnight!
 

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INTJ 583 sx/sp
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456 Posts
Written many years ago. Haven't written another one since.

Fyrr ævi

There I was, among the fallen, as if pressed beneath a
boulder, unable to express or repay the fryð of life,
"and now of death?"

I could not– did not reach to ask or batter eye, when
there sudden came a tide, and to an ocean I laid bare,
of a presence and of a stare, from where a sound of
wings grew near.

"Neither," faint but clear, professed a raven, one of
many, whom landed upon my chest, from whose claws
hung shredded flesh, and on whose breath the stench
of death.

Five times they many laughed, then "Both" expressed,
before their wings they spread, and shortly after
scattered, when below the deepest depth, a voice
arose of hoarsest throat, a woman? like a raven spoke:

"Sá? Kem þú? Sá kem."

Young the maiden was, with hair of old, upon her
head, and of her brow, with out-stretched arm, and
moon-lit palm, and though her eyes of blackest shade–
in no compassion paid, and on her face a cold
expression, and scars as bright as day, she held no
disbelief, no love or hate; she drew merely to the fray;
as a weaver of the web; the web of weavers of my fate.

Thus it were, through her I felt, a flow so gentle surge,
like blood had spilled down-hill, and slowly strength
returned. Not mine! it was as though the maiden had
let me borrow hers, through intentions so profound;
perhaps, from when her feet had touched the ground,
or from her gaze, or from the feathers that had
brushed my limbs; by her, inevitable! that I could move
my arm again, though all else rested still, but to know
such fryð, where do humility begin?

I felt I knew her once, and knew her still, but knew her
not, while she knew me, and knew me well; she knew
me better than I knew myself.

Her nightly cloak of feathers fluttered, covered half the
sky, maroon above the meadow and the forest line,
and behind her sat one fairer, so capricious, pointing at
me from up high, with brighter hair, yet from her
cheeks, these streams of golden tears, from where
she came; led home; a place I felt that I belonged.

So close, yet farther still I felt, this agonizing part of me
that said: "But wait," I thought, a thought so bold, a
thought that yet had taken hold, before the golden
maiden spoke, with gentlest voice:

"Þú ynskja blí?"

"Not in life, and not in death; I wish not wake; I wish of
rest, and rest I've gained, and more I seek; this rest I
wish to keep; this rest the black-eyed maiden have made
me feel."

She put her finger down, and arm to side, looked
intrigued, with clever smile– the black-eyed maiden too–
leaned down, embraced, and off we flew.
 

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INTP (I thimk) 5w
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Roses are red
Violets are blue
I wanted to be a poet
But now I don't think so because I resist measuring up
 

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Leaning Introvertish
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221 Posts
Relatives

being a gathering’s quietest face
seems to stir distasteful
soups in bosoms
taken hostage by manual
authors penning tough
sermons about social skills
and fists of brute maple
drove home in them the virtues
of what they make us call small talk
 

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221 Posts
go with what the highway’s bared thigh
is hinting at with a gravelly
shift against the cracker crumb earth,
not soda but more like triscuit,
maybe toasted crouton
that needn’t wait for salad.

breezy fingers break into a cool
jab that gets the yellow daisy
veterans shivering, though
the weakest petal promises
everything is fine. The ant pubs
underground serve hot cocoa year-round.
 

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Ship is chilling while her sailors
hit the shoreline houses that breathe
odors from animal passions

and so sunken have they fallen
drums can’t allow penetration
of her waves through the walls, that say,

Now this raining of sands that has
come so sudden to this harbor
upsetting a calm horizon

may mean extension of shore leave.
Legendary are charms native
chicks here exude. Might as well sink.
 

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bleh bleh-BLEH
ur type is my type
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6,335 Posts
The Little Mermaid

Sand-clasped toes, clinging onto grain after grain
Summer air that reeks of salt and desperation
I shower in the rays of the heat
Face adorned with specks of gold
All that glitters turns

Burnt.

With hovered hands over squinted eyes, I fly
Towards the coastline
Thirsting for relief as if the waves had not already been
Watching and waiting to weep me back in and
I wade but I’m
weak.

The skies remind me what I want but
What you want isn't always what you
need.

I sink my knees, my hands clutching onto
Seam after water-saturated seam.
The light dwindles, ripple replacing reflection.
Eyes brimmed with blue, my face begins to blot
Until the rest of my body is bound

And I
Remember.

Anchored by Poseidon's trident, I am nothing
More and
Nothing less than
My father's vessel.


Voice secreted in salacity
A voyeur points.
He tells his wife how he pities the spineless fish at sea.
 

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364 Posts
I wake up in the sturdy threshold of day
Hit by the disheveled blond field
The shaky corn emmeshed in silver winds
The brown earth strung tense and tale-telling
As I ride barefoot on her sick shoulders.

Down, down do I cry to the crumbling slopes
Down to the prairie whence our horses fled
And died proudly in a wild march in high
coppery luring waves.

Will I land under the slender stretching willow?
Or trample the rolling figs and kiss, with a daring foot
Some burning patch of diamond-shaped sunlight ?
Still my paintbox opens and the compass shakes
Still shadows transform before setting in,
and I’m some bold, young shade of blue.

Vertigo takes me, one hard blow on the neck
Leaves no thoughts unturned : “here” says the voice
Here under the rosy awning of trees is the arch
For which you’ve been stolen, here are the hatches,
The lithe smiling vessels of all time’s loss
Rushed between hay’s days and human ventures.

Oh sweet surrender ! Of all deeds, loud or quiet
- The quill dragging her sisters in its fall
The boat rushing for a deadly embrace -
Of all wildcards it’s you I’ve seen and seized
And the dull horizon burns purpler and leans
Down on me who lies coy, and slumbery,
And crouches in the knived-eye of the sun.

Oh the knifes !
The pain & poison !
I must close down now !
Or else I must sleep.

Hours and hours have closed their eyelids on me
And stillness – the ravaged belly of tornado -
Stillness is easier that my mothers thought :
Life diffracted, dispersed, the Parcae promiscuous
- and amorous, armoured, spinning me on,
their skin and arms thicker than a grasshopper’s -
They gave me the awareness of time's clock
Where I rage, hate, tick, snap and am
no longer the rabbit hole but a star at my heel
On my forehead the wooden millblades
And a river writhing with snaky urge

Lives diffracted, distracted …
Fluxing like blood meet sands, stickily
Pumped to the shadowy shady goddess,
whose blue hair and mind are plugged into sea
As she strokes me back here holds my nape
And whispers : don’t look back.

I awake in the holey blue, heart-poked
Horses warm from their flight bite into peaches
Slope gliding like a saccharine eve
I elbow out of slumber and prodigal stench
Among swollen fruits and whinnying chaos.

Awakeness strikes a second blow - be still my heart !
As a nimble hand, with sassy, military nails
Untangles dreamy seaweed out of hair
Forces trembling knees into shattered land.

Sweet Goddess, I’ve grown in reverse
Reaped wise by many a cavalry,
As your weary shadow of thoughts,
Childless yet childborn, receded from slopes

And I’ve watched your rainbowed train depart
Leaving all things howling and unveiled :
The breadth of my love choking in my throat
The albino skin of tangled maggots
And the rude asscheeks of this jeering moon.
 

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Sometimes I wonder
That I've had so many lovers
I've lost faith in time, even though they were just a few, I hoped for only one

Sometimes I wonder
How foolish my eyes must really be and appear to others
to be deceived by my own apparitions
So that I've lost faith in time, even though it still has faith in me

And when I stare into the sky
And see perhaps a single star or mars in his red glory
In the polluted heavens, I notice that I still feel something, albeit Plutonian in nature
Although I no longer wish to leave this earth and fly high to the moon under the whispy feathers of Neptune
I await the day I am blown to smithereens and turned to dust in Saturn's rings
So i can look at the all and know the point of the game
Was not to find the other prophesied by Cupid
But to sink into oblivion with Venus
like a fat man sliding into a hot tub
and proclaim myself the kingly hedonist
of the modern era while I surf the shores of Uranus, oh sweet freedom.
 

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When everyone is dead and gone
spread my ashes on the water, the water is my daughter
I was Neptune's second son
Born for illusion and fun

I'm sorry I left you behind but I fought until the end and it was bitter
And every second of the struggle
Was a big love bubble
So find my corpse in the rubble
and give my stubble a kiss
as my soul departs into the mist
and barrel rolls like a dove into a fist

Dear momma can you save me
Cause the street is my baby
and it twisted into a snake
and hit my face like a rake
Call me Jake

Stare into the face of a freckled beauty
And watch her gums stretch as she smiles
G_d damn you're beautiful
you make me want to be dutiful
But as we both know
I only serve Saturn
Time to go
You get the Pattern?
 

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IXFP 4w5 5w4 8w7 sp/sx
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625 Posts
Roll and gone, Roll and gone
White lining of our book
As you long gone, the hefty long gone
Grandiose gallop done with bitter-sweetness

Petty crack of candy, glossy with agony
You want more, more but without havoc
Tumble of road can't stop us, Baloney!
You are too dumb to know loneliness
Roll, Roll, now city up and coming

Brace your seat belt, Brush your sweet tooth
They say but all of you are bullock, aren't you?
You won't fasten your belt, You won't pull up your sweatpants
Only brain you got is meant-to-be-ness

Jump out of here, honey, To where you belong, honey
What bad thing could happen? You can come back
Find your jar, beauty, You are gonna miss this, baby
At least i miss you, miss your bullheadedness
Roll, Roll, you roll out of this ride

Maybe few scars and broken bones, Who cares?



Thank you for reading! I hope you liked it! I think poem is meant to be interpreted by readers not writer. But i wanna tell you this. This poem started from the thought of mine, thought about my childhood. I used to really crave to jump out of my car, whenever my parents nag at me in a car when i was a kid. It's my message to kid version of me. Telling myself to just jump out of car! Chase your dream! Don't be afraid! Which are what i wanna say to kids in now days. But don't actually jump out of car! :)

It's also inspired by movie Lady bird and song Kids by current joys. :D
 

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Roll and gone, Roll and gone
White lining of our book
As you long gone, the hefty long gone
Grandiose gallop done with bitter-sweetness

Petty crack of candy, glossy with agony
You want more, more but without havoc
Tumble of road can't stop us, Baloney!
You are too dumb to know loneliness
Roll, Roll, now city up and coming

Brace your seat belt, Brush your sweet tooth
They say but all of you are bullock, aren't you?
You won't fasten your belt, You won't pull up your sweatpants
Only brain you got is meant-to-be-ness

Jump out of here, honey, To where you belong, honey
What bad thing could happen? You can come back
Find your jar, beauty, You are gonna miss this, baby
At least i miss you, miss your bullheadedness
Roll, Roll, you roll out of this ride

Maybe few scars and broken bones, Who cares?



Thank you for reading! I hope you liked it! I think poem is meant to be interpreted by readers not writer. But i wanna tell you this. This poem started from the thought of mine, thought about my childhood. I used to really crave to jump out of my car, whenever my parents nag at me in a car when i was a kid. It's my message to kid version of me. Telling myself to just jump out of car! Chase your dream! Don't be afraid! Which are what i wanna say to kids in now days. But don't actually jump out of car! :)

It's also inspired by movie Lady bird and song Kids by current joys. :D
I like how you waited until after to tell us because it let me get my own view out first and then I went back and read it with the background and saw it anew.
 

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Sometimes I wonder if I am a psychopath
Because I cannot feel anything
But then I realize I am always feeling something
I just don't know what it is until a few months later.

I remember watching Johnny cross the street. Sometimes i wanted to hug him and sometimes i wanted to push him in front of a car. A third part wanted nothing to do with the later. Two against one, I chose the former.

Johnny is actually Linda. And Linda turned to Becca. And Becca turned to Karen. And Karen turned to Lauren. And Lauren turned to Kelly. And Kelly is now Kristina.

Most of the time it's just my keyboard.

Alright whatever.
I like watching knock outs. I knock em out all the time. I hit that brick with my fist so hard. And then I turned around and kneeled before Christ, and had sex in the back of my car. She wrote a stupid poem about the smell of leather. I had an orgasm, power up, and went about my business like a robot.

I guess I am a psychopath. God damn this black coffee is good.
 

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IXFP 4w5 5w4 8w7 sp/sx
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I like how you waited until after to tell us because it let me get my own view out first and then I went back and read it with the background and saw it anew.
Thank you. You know. I think poem is really healthy way to express one's thoughts, personally. And i really love your poems above!
 

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Eh you might now after a while. Yours are much better but it's true, poetry is definately a transformative and meditative point of reflection for me, even if some of my stuff sucks.
Well, it's overstatement i think but i thank you. :D And The part that makes me like your poem is about what i lack. I think whenever i write something, i lack something wild, rawness, instinct, and like my poem above, it's quite self-centered and simple moral story.
 
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