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Topic Title: Any Poets in the House? Topic Summary: Created On: 04/17/2007 08:34 AM |
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04/17/2007 08:34 AM
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I love to write and also read other's writings. If you have any poetry that you would want to post I would love to read it.
Lost My words lay blazen before your fiery altar; exposed to the harsh reality of what I am not. My pen is silent though my heart cries out. It cries to empty masses devoid of ears to hear. I run for the safety of darkened shadows, but they only dissipate as if to mock my failed attempts. I find no solace in you, only charred reminders of what once was. The dismembered notions of naivety, drowned by the cloistered cries of regret, serve as delicately painful reminders of who you are and who I am not. Jason Sullivan Copyright ©2007 ------------------------- SS |
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04/17/2007 08:52 AM
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more people write poetry than actually read it.
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04/17/2007 08:54 AM
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lol... I think you're right.. Have you ever read any Bukowski? Dude he was a riot. He pretty much drank and wrote poems.. So you can imagine what they sounded like..
------------------------- SS |
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04/17/2007 09:01 AM
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Bukowski used to post on this forum. Haven't seen a post from him in awhile. It could be because he is dead. But, then again, he was dead when he posted before.
------------------------- I :heart; Q |
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04/17/2007 09:02 AM
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Oblique Observations
by Rod XXXXXX Crooked table, lopsided door, Maps to heaven on the floor; Windswept statues line the lawn, Down eighty steps, maybe more. Thinking, laughing, never blue, Dancing gaily ‘midst pots of glue; Aging, graying and not caring Who’s my partner, is it you? Canneries line fair Monterey, Tour guides move with feet of clay, Cloudless skies above Nepenthe; Big Sur on a sun-drenched day. Flowered transport along the trail Moves slowly past the old guardrail, Turns left across the Rainbow Bridge, Down to the post office to check the mail. Where life takes us, we have no clue, To things familiar or places new, Gazing north, then looking south; We stare past stars with childlike view. Up ahead wait our lives’ dreams, Often misty (or so it seems), Like tea leaves in an empty cup; We carry things to such extremes. Love is summer, then it’s fall, A timeless thing, after all, The glistening dew on marbled breast; To awaken us, to enthrall. Then darkness comes with winter’s storm, We cling tightly to bodies warm, Observe the Solstice in all its glory, As life’s sweet sacrament we perform. (Finale) Ah, but that was then, and this is now, No more do we recite the Tao, (And lost are we for that small thing); Blown by the wind from the tree’s great bough. Memories fade and often blur, As we recall the way we were, Dancing, loving, singing songs; Those days, that time, in old Big Sur. © 2006 - 2007 by Rod XXXXXX |
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04/17/2007 09:04 AM
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That's awesome.. It has a kerouac kind of feel to it... Nice!
------------------------- SS Edited: 04/17/2007 at 09:05 AM by scubasteve |
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04/17/2007 09:09 AM
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I was writing poetry
Just the other day I put down the pen Cause there wasn't much to say An old friend told me I should write some more So I kicked his arse And threw him out the door |
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04/17/2007 09:14 AM
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Thanks, but if I was doing Kerouac, it'd go something like this:
Music blaring people staring/ All the while Fate is glaring scaring and bearing the scars of my boxcar sins/ spent a year on the tracks staring through a crack confounded by all that I lack/ looking back pain and misery, black companions on the road to Hell Or words to that effect. |
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04/17/2007 09:20 AM
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Sweet!!! Dude did you ever read the Dharma Bums, or On the Road?
------------------------- SS |
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04/17/2007 09:26 AM
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You guys are pretty good!
Thanks for sharing. I hope there will be more. |
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04/17/2007 09:28 AM
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Quote Yep, hence the reference to "boxcar sins." |
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04/17/2007 09:32 AM
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<b>The Slippery Sable</b>
By Rod XXXXXX Crackerjacks spilled upon the table As the man explained the unwinding fable About the hunter and the sable; Of how she fled, steady and stable And how he stumbled, quite unable To enamor that which refused his label. Mockingly, she laughed at him And teased her pursuer on a whim; ”You’ll not have me, so fair, so slim, ”You’re much too lacking, much too dim. ”You can skate in a teacup, or dance on its rim, ”But to captivate me, you’ll need more than vim.” Yet still he tracked her, through hill and dale, For after all he was only male, Determined was he to somehow prevail, And of her honey himself avail, After slipping off her handsome veil. At last, in the pub, he ran her to ground, Slipped up alongside her with nary a sound, Placed a hand on her shoulder, gently spun her around And slowly, with patience, began to expound . . . ”It’s but a game we play, so you run from me ”I chase only shadows that hide and flee, ”While you call out my name with laughter and glee; ”Two ships on the ocean, each adrift on the sea, ”Circling the island, windward and lee. ”I’ve searched since my childhood for someone like thee ”Ah, to be adored and admired ”By the lovely Amy.” Copyright 2001 - 2007 by Rod XXXXXX Edited: 04/17/2007 at 02:50 PM by tahoe |
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04/17/2007 09:44 AM
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Poetry
On 2nd Light Chances are It'll start a fight God and politics Religion too What's my poor brain Gonna do? Strega's gone Man we miss him When he gets back Maybe Dave will kiss him Like all my posts It's getting clear I've got nuthin I'm outta here |
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04/17/2007 01:34 PM
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yeah, I've read "On the Road", and I've read Bukowski.
not a total waste of time, but close. |
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04/17/2007 06:12 PM
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This was written by my teenage daughter Jessi.
My Virgo Saw you across the canal In that cafe The one with the fat striped yellow cat and for the first time your smile hit me The gentle upturn of your lips Like the side of your coffee cup in your hand Hidden pale eyes under sun tea hair Glancing off the azure ripples Bouncing up into mine You wore your loose tie like a scarf With a casual romantic air I still have those damn flowers Somewhere We lay on our backs As our boat let the tides take control Looking at only each others eyes Laughing And just talking You played the lute Remember it was missing two strings And it always made us snicker At the missed notes But they were hinting non-the less And in the park With the cherry blossoms Landing peacefully on our hugging shoulders On our joined hip the cat purred contently As was my soul Like the swirling bright red fall leaves Passion burned Then Aphrodite fell to fate She had seemed And destiny fair or not had beaten down our love With its elaborately carved steel blade Boasting it was for the best Then with the falling of the amber sun Your eyes closed forever. |
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04/17/2007 07:12 PM
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Way to go, Jessi. Very descriptive, very poignant. The line "Hidden pale eyes under sun tea hair " is excellent. Stay with it.
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04/18/2007 09:54 AM
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What kind of stuff do you like to read?
Quote ------------------------- SS |
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04/18/2007 11:05 AM
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I've read most of the classics.
I've read military and political history and theory books. and I love to read travel and adventure books. travel journals, etc. |
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04/18/2007 11:43 AM
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Cool... Sounds like you've done a little reading along the way...lol
------------------------- SS |
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04/19/2007 07:53 AM
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Maybe I should have been a doctor
Maybe I could have done some good in this world Maybe I could have saved some life that was lost Instead of burning every bridge I crossed Dylan Edited: 04/19/2007 at 09:17 AM by sandi |
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