Poetry #too. |
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Rust
Forum Senior Member Joined: October 14 2005 Location: United States Status: Offline Points: 1148 |
Posted: December 19 2006 at 02:03 | ||
A metal marsh mshrumpbtions.
the symptoms. dont get the symptoms.
the symptoms - that drip like wax in the back of your mouth.
spheres.
It gets hard when you don't trust anyone, thier faces hold truth.
learn it.smile
More, knowing more than not wanting it you use it.
See.
Do it.
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We got to pump the stuff to make us tough
from the heart Its astart What we need is awareness we cant get careless Mental self defensive fitness Make everybody see in order to fight the powers that be |
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Rust
Forum Senior Member Joined: October 14 2005 Location: United States Status: Offline Points: 1148 |
Posted: December 19 2006 at 02:08 | ||
Please tell me Wizard, what inspired this magnificent piece of work?
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We got to pump the stuff to make us tough
from the heart Its astart What we need is awareness we cant get careless Mental self defensive fitness Make everybody see in order to fight the powers that be |
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The Wizard
Prog Reviewer Joined: July 18 2005 Location: United States Status: Offline Points: 7341 |
Posted: December 19 2006 at 19:22 | ||
Not drugs. It was a euphoric feeling of happiness that overtook me almost randomly, without and virus from an outside entity to such such an occaison. It seems that the really good poets I know (like you and Trouserpress) are the ones who appreciate it the best. |
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The Wizard
Prog Reviewer Joined: July 18 2005 Location: United States Status: Offline Points: 7341 |
Posted: December 19 2006 at 19:25 | ||
This is a cut up poem from a somewhat popular book about aliens:
prisoners indifference
second rate, natural by temptures
insectlike indepependent think
something ignorable stems control
not haunting in contempt
remember well founded intellectual olympian sense
rooms stiff or man-mind uniforms
a universe deeper
The book is 'Communion' by Whitley Streiber, I just thought it an interesting idea to use it for a cut up poem.
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VanderGraafKommandöh
Prog Reviewer Joined: July 04 2005 Location: Malaria Status: Offline Points: 89372 |
Posted: December 19 2006 at 21:48 | ||
Excuse me? I'm a good poet, shut up! |
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A Guy
Forum Senior Member Joined: October 25 2005 Location: United Kingdom Status: Offline Points: 127 |
Posted: December 20 2006 at 10:41 | ||
I like the line "something ignorable stems control". |
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My website
Signatures are for people who can think of anything to put in their signatures. |
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The Wizard
Prog Reviewer Joined: July 18 2005 Location: United States Status: Offline Points: 7341 |
Posted: December 23 2006 at 11:41 | ||
goof inovators dissapointed blowing the complex mouthpiece mused, stampling technical exuberance sharkskin sweating to ragtime glittering horizantal anxiety contemplatve birdlike jazz boys women hobos dooorways vigourous downtown hitching casualness, cutting saintly music written money for the tenorman mad cadillac glowed in tinker instruments flapping meticuolously brown sidewalks circle hordes |
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kazansky
Forum Senior Member Joined: December 24 2006 Location: Indonesia Status: Offline Points: 5085 |
Posted: December 27 2006 at 00:59 | ||
here just some random stuff i wrote months ago...
A Comedy Called Life Welcome, welcome to the greatest show in the world a comedy called Life It's a show of life we're all in it we're the main actors and actress And the people will see things that you've done things that you do and things that you'll do and they'll laugh at everything cause life is a comedy, a show a show that we'll perform for the rest of our life 'till we meet our death Did i play my role well in this comedy called Life ? Only God can tell Applause please PS:if you watch the movie 'Augustus'(the roman emperor) maybe you'll recognize the last paragraph |
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The devil we blame our atrocities on is really just each one of us.
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Rust
Forum Senior Member Joined: October 14 2005 Location: United States Status: Offline Points: 1148 |
Posted: January 03 2007 at 23:18 | ||
Thoughts
A curse out loud,
abrupt and almost uncontrollable.
For no reason they hatch from within.
A distraction.
Stories of questions ready to enlighten us against the top hat of secrets.
Only utter impulse stemed from instinctive nature.
Swarms of lotus eating your crops.
"Answeres to all your problems!"
Answeres are the problem.
They are internal tellemarketers trading control of seeds from our fathers.
Their subliminal conversations are the personal conscience.
Then I give in in the middle of the
and I think.
I think that I think too much....
I know.
It's a good thing belief isn't knowlege.
Believe me.
Edited by Rust - January 03 2007 at 23:36 |
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We got to pump the stuff to make us tough
from the heart Its astart What we need is awareness we cant get careless Mental self defensive fitness Make everybody see in order to fight the powers that be |
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The Wizard
Prog Reviewer Joined: July 18 2005 Location: United States Status: Offline Points: 7341 |
Posted: January 05 2007 at 16:49 | ||
cutting shearing seperating thrashing
through my infected home cauterize the wound, massacre the screaming steady shattering, noize with pattern spectral chaos, phantom madness plastic supernatural destruction wailing in pain, washed away in the tender rain dark matter filling, replacing oxygen feeling electric, flesh buzzing spastic all is cut to pieces sheared into oblivion seperated from all good thrashing the remains |
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The Wizard
Prog Reviewer Joined: July 18 2005 Location: United States Status: Offline Points: 7341 |
Posted: January 06 2007 at 17:17 | ||
floating dream kingdom telepathy electric is the atmosphere |
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tardis
Forum Senior Member Joined: October 02 2005 Location: Victoria, BC Status: Offline Points: 14378 |
Posted: January 07 2007 at 00:21 | ||
I was once a metal ham
I once was a mental ham I got better. |
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Rust
Forum Senior Member Joined: October 14 2005 Location: United States Status: Offline Points: 1148 |
Posted: January 09 2007 at 06:16 | ||
Rising (up)
Silent dreams a new-born reads
While it's time to sleep.
The end in every day I see.
Smouldering chimney embers
Slowly drift away.
Black smoke sleeps inside of clay.
Allergies can catch a cold
In the month of May.
Water infected with rain. Great job Wizard with you DADA styled poems; and great job to everyone else for their highly entertaining poems. I'm sorry I don't have enough time to congradulate everyone individually but I really do appreciate reading all of your contributions. Edited by Rust - January 09 2007 at 06:40 |
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We got to pump the stuff to make us tough
from the heart Its astart What we need is awareness we cant get careless Mental self defensive fitness Make everybody see in order to fight the powers that be |
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The Wizard
Prog Reviewer Joined: July 18 2005 Location: United States Status: Offline Points: 7341 |
Posted: January 09 2007 at 18:57 | ||
Thanks, I'll keep up the good work.
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Rust
Forum Senior Member Joined: October 14 2005 Location: United States Status: Offline Points: 1148 |
Posted: January 10 2007 at 23:07 | ||
I confused my confidence for pride.
Responsible it seemed.
Ignorant of reasons that did not sum.
These wants become those dreams.
I listened in trial and error resulted.
You fixed tools too basic to break.
Assembling then racing engines while race is halted.
I helped my habbit for happiness
with misdirected sorrow.
I sympathised so low.
Why did I fear ever feeling less?
At the time I didn't know.
The predestined wall crumbled upon
The unsure grounds beliefs were built on.
The dusty residue left after,
as free as a lifted feather.
Epiphanies with fraud faces.
I've seen that face before.
Letting free the comfort,
A necessary sore.
I can televise the weight of fiction,
Blind your eyes with dense sedition.
I can fake the pheremones you love.
Build a wall for you to crash.
We willl Always be above!
It was still to late to cough up all the spoonfed lies
I once felt the obligate to believe.
Feeling is only temporary.
My insides should not be cold like the air I breathe.
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We got to pump the stuff to make us tough
from the heart Its astart What we need is awareness we cant get careless Mental self defensive fitness Make everybody see in order to fight the powers that be |
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The Wizard
Prog Reviewer Joined: July 18 2005 Location: United States Status: Offline Points: 7341 |
Posted: January 11 2007 at 21:45 | ||
they shattered their spirit against the swarming jellyfishes skeleton nightshift corridors echoing in plasmatic key Prismatic elevators are bending to my knees but still... elevating my poetry through the blood of the fallen exposing what i find in the illuminated alcoholic newspaper Me and Bern wrote this together. |
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Ricochet
Special Collaborator Honorary Collaborator Joined: February 27 2005 Location: Nauru Status: Offline Points: 46301 |
Posted: January 12 2007 at 10:40 | ||
Silence, solitude and sequencing
V
A flower in desperate despair
Looks so much better than
The colours of blossomed petal
And sharp metal.
Of life?
Afraid it isn't what we dream for.
Of taste?
Good is
confident
for broken-down minds;
experience like a novice;
smile and shudder
like
a fool
of glory
weeps.
My devil dies in my hands
just when dominating my instincts
And made me sniff the smell,
the perfume.
We made love under a dark shadow
casting light.
No, not with my devil.
With my angel, who so came in me
twice my face shooked.
I'm scared.
Thy demons.
Never awake
But there
In Life.
Saturdays with their
sheltered book of living
lifeless creatures ready
for forgiveness
Are excellent to sell
that part of the sky
which, by looks
Is dotted by evil.
Can't you think of anything
amazing at best while searching
for the sprout guy and
his sprout poison?
First impression after leaving the doorless room:
the gasp of the
nightingale maniacs, the crumble
of tired chains, the cry of my
desperate being.
Imagination serves
Hope deplores.
Is it okay to take
my overdoze
now?
Mr. Morrison?
The song speaks of pleasant peasants
ready to work their way
through the lime wire
in a coma-resembling breath
in a coda-frightening watch.
It's a weak one.
The song speaks of Philip climbing
that wall, while Andre dies through
it and someone else rests unknown
in eye-flickering patience
in eve-dropping silence.
It's a similar one.
The son speaks of music, speaks of
real music, made like a churned
radiance out of glass bed drops
ready to collapse
ready to make it
in tempus fugit
in tempus morbid.
The song speaks about signs.
The song is simple.
My angel burst into flames
Once fingered down deep and under
she clims in her climax
And leaves me speechless.
From what it's real
I killed the seraph as well.
Shot the huge light bird
In its moment of birth.
I like this momentum spent
in the clouds of line
loneliness.
No, you hate it.
You want out.
Did you forget?
Abous us, who are old enough
to lose ourselves?
Did you forget
my name?
Did you forget
that you are losing your life
in a doorless room.
Your name
is a birthmark
your name
is Ophelia.
Where are my friends
what do they dream of me?
Why don't I like them so
to live without repent?
Why don't they sing no more?
Why don't they laugh of me,
even that, even less...
Your name
is Ophelia.....
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Ricochet
Special Collaborator Honorary Collaborator Joined: February 27 2005 Location: Nauru Status: Offline Points: 46301 |
Posted: January 12 2007 at 10:53 | ||
VI
The longer you'll keep hurting me
The more I'll never get over
the hate and
the utmost love
I share
We share.
I have for.
You left it away.
Back then
It was the only
Un-trammered.
Song.
ever played.
Back then, I repeat (it to)
myself, I was happy.
I miss being happy,
It was an almost life-telling
Miracle to smile and
To shine in your hand
your hand, your hand, thy
Hand working towards the
Sunlight dawn, in a day to be
Loved, liked, lived,
Leave. Being happy is
Insane.
It's a winter with a wet attitude
And the night divides the day,
(brave eagle's words and symphaties)
On the fields of sashes
I can't stop dreaming.
Up the utmost roof of buildings
the twentieth level
Lives a star.
The class is about empty
my friends have gone all
evil (and that wicked)
It's a small world
Of ugly coloured walls
Of dust and markings
with a game of "I hit you
I DON'T hit you"
heing played in the minds
of blackboard people.
Nice painting hang high
One was stolen by a shadow.
with a note: 11-01-07
"Memory of a dezastrous
friend...and curiosly
more"
There's saddeness of the deepest sincerity
And Van Gogh still says it better
painting his clique.
Trying to write the unthinkable
So such things come again:
people are strange
life (could be) is (will be)
i'm lonely (above) (among)
he (uns)(it) writes times(z)
loved, liked, lived, leave
hard shell sunshine
(great)(ly) reasons
dark (dead) pop art
ink thick stench stain
black goth shock rimel
an image of images
(type)(-typos)(typings)(tape)
characters
radio sound stream (silk)
[(] ------------------------->
we're in the vile (voom) presence
I am here (hear) (hoor)
ad infinitum
I am mad;
still you can't imagine
how my music sounds
how my world revolves
happy
homeless
sheety
I write the harmless
the flick
the end of...
the song weeps "ho-sanna,
hey-sanna, sanna,
sanna..."
wishful string by the morphic melody for
the lucky ear
sanna, sanna...
still you can't understand
the values I love like an
ingrate passionate, to which
I'm worthfully angry
and diseased
I can, you see, choose
the best and the sweetest.
But can't keep with the will.
Class is over
my friends returned evil;
the face has no sign
Of nerves; foul &
fuol.
The walk to home
is childlike,
any way you feel it,
you're heading to the house
that knows you by everything
friend, fiend.....
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Floydian42
Forum Senior Member Joined: January 13 2007 Location: United States Status: Offline Points: 846 |
Posted: January 14 2007 at 11:38 | ||
Shiver Down My Spine: Only Some for Who you Truly Care She Stares In My Eyes Through the Night Finally From Street Bounds I Am Free Edited by Floydian42 - January 14 2007 at 17:56 |
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NutterAlert
Forum Senior Member Joined: June 07 2005 Location: In transition Status: Offline Points: 2808 |
Posted: January 17 2007 at 12:28 | ||
a life on the ocean wave
burly, dozing humble-bee i love to steal awhile away so fallen we who stood do the boys and girls still go fat black bucks in a wine-barrel room good woman the little pitiful, worn, laughing faces the sky |
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Proud to be an un-banned member since 2005
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