Poetry

[Einherjar86]

You mean, the meaning that implies homosexuality? It's been ingrained because that's the definition that it's had for hundreds of years. It's been recorded that Sappho taught young girls, and wrote fondly of them in her poetry (expressing appreciation for their beauty and even love for them).

I'm not trying to diminish Sappho or anything, and certainly the implications of same-sex relationships in her own time are very different than they are today.

 

[no country for old wainds]

face it dude you just hate queers like the rest of us

 

[Einherjar86]

Busted.

 

[Vimana]

A poem I wrote titled Polymer Dream.

It is my 5 minutes worth of effort to describe the ambience and beauty of sitting in the back of my grandmother's house in Barranquilla while the city is sleeping.


The wind pulls life to every corner
The specter whispers sweet nothings to the streets

Not a presence is present that can’t be lifted
The moonlight takes away all impurities

Even a gunshot
Even a scream
Can be added to this sweet polymer dream

Yet the mind is awake
And a word takes the dream away

But there is not a moment of silence it does not fill

The chaos smoothes into order
The pattern becomes clear
Yet not known
Not a sound
But a drone
As none are alone

The blanket of wind tucks the demons to sleep
Leaves rustle the dead to rest
Darkness brings chaos to peace

 

[Einherjar86]

I have these lyrics that I've put to music, but wasn't really in the mood to try and record it tonight; so instead of posting it on my myspace I decided to share the lyrics here. They're inspired from a dream I had.

"The Whore of Babylon"
And the harlot sat in Babylon,
And a ship there sailed to meet her
In the solstice of the halcyon
By the command of Peter.
By day, it drove toward Babylon,
Toward the shore to greet her.

By night, the crew performed the rites
Of sacrifice and unction,
As their forebears, the Israelites,
Had done in swift conjunction.
These acts they did by all their nights
Commanded by their function.

They raised an altar on the craft
By which they knelt and prayed;
And though it had been set to aft,
To aft the altar stayed.
And by its wood the sailors laughed,
And by their word obeyed.

They set their children in the sea
To baptize and to bless them,
And gave to them their company
To educate and dress them.
For by this it was meant to be
That their children would impress them.

They sailed east for one hundred days
And anchored off the shores
Of Babylon, upon the Euphrates,
And gathered up their stores.
And they walked among the reprobates,
Upon the mother of whores.

Here they sank onto their knees
And begged the Whore to heed them,
But She would not hear their pleas
And said She did not need them.
And they wept upon the city streets
And begged the Whore to feed them.

When they returned they begged once more,
This time that She might release them,
But this She said, the kingly Whore,
That no ocean would appease them.
They cursed Her and the crown She wore,
And so Her guards they seized them.

The last they begged they wept no tears,
And asked the Whore to save them,
They said they’d abandoned all their fears
And refused the food She gave them.
They’d been Her prisoners for many years,
But no longer would She have them.

They cast aside their clothes at dawn,
They surrendered every token,
And stood aside as the noose was drawn-
Not a word was spoken.
Now those pilgrims are all gone,
But their silence remains unbroken.

 

[divine_torture]

'Moral Iniquity'

There's a consistency in the way you breathe
A little nudge that reminds me where I am
If I wake up tomorrow, I hope I don't see you
If I wake up tomorrow, I think I made a mistake

Cast veils on one's self to hide the fact
That colored lines are interests I adore

Horizons flipped are still horizons in perception
You made a cameo in my theatrics, once
I'm amused at your pale flesh and whispered pleas
Even if it's all a creation of my own

You've cast veils on me to hide the fact
That I was never the sort of thing you could adore

But even I can be broken
On occasion I've been known to bleed
And closing your eyes won't make the
Monsters disappear

Something fell away this time
Drifting along before me
I won't even pause to glance
It's quite insignificant, really

Justin Flemings-October 2, 2009

 

[Vimana]

Intimate Trance

An abstract erotic poem I wrote during school one day. I've started carrying around a notebook to do more writing. I enjoy breaking rhythm when I write poetry.

A grotesque beauty
Fractal strings and order
A benevolent disfigured symmetry
Under a black hood

Its bodies are restricted
Its minds are synchronized

Flowers grow odd petals long
And fall into the stream
The lotuses, so clean and crooked
Advancing on your mind

The hands, so subtle
And so discrete
They stroke across the faces
Of the pillars of your temple polished
The tongue filling the spaces

Echoes play an orchestra
A wispy stirring dream
A wave of the conductor's wand
Your body turns aside
And your body squirms again

Your temple is dark
And you are in a trance

The charmer's hand, it sings hypnosis
You are dreaming consensually

The lips open and serenade
"Are you listening?" they whisper

You twitch voluntarily
The beautiful ceiling brings closure
The paintings smile and watch intently
And you don't care

Your body tenses delightfully
Shape against shape
Movement on movement
Breath with breath
Moment after moment

And you scream

 

[divine_torture]

That was worth my time, I must admit. Good one.

 

[panzerfaust666]

ive finally started to write Poetry:

Hidden Inside
the Dungeon of my ribcage
Inside was him
sheltered from the sun
and the sand
the devil and all his men

all that was him

Disguied in Black
from the angels above
through the storms and turmoil
He kept them inside
making sure to keep watch,
from the eyes
hidden,in the walls

Down, bruised and beaten,
in the ground for so long
yearning for the heavens above
Cracked the shell,
and out come the worms,
riddled with maggots,
finally one with the devil
and all his men
it can all ...


One of my first solid attempts^^^


I dont expect praises of any sort, but dont be to harsh with your criticism :Smug:

However, please do offer some tips.

another:



A rope,tied, holding me, bracing me down
unable to wallow in the filth,in the mire beneath
tied down, rotten,
reveling in the filth

hung high,like a rag doll
Waiting, hoping to die
I;ll tear them open, my eyes
close them when I like

If the world is just
leave me the silence
a shred of the absolute is all, that I need

show me...
its closer now
not so far away, away

 

[-CC-]

detecting trace amounts of human libido
rotorvator active, drilling in
open wounds oxidising at 0.6 minute halflife
Dr. Nerve Spindle, BME, Legion #93 Academy
service discontinued - memory wiped
dump the bodies
new directive received

delete Colony 46
nearest volcanic node: 4 kilometers southwest
plutonium carbide at 322 p.p.m.
initiate purge

entering variegated timelapse array
...subspace web traversal complete

laconic amity dialogue
perception derivative of a fine-point geodesic construct
embryos in suspension
spindles forming the crossover cosmic pocket
teletype sequence input - patterns recognised
radiological nooscopy - 'the stuff of dreams, kid'

accessing desolation heuristic
magnetometric data inconclusive
cognitive regression inhibitors offline
searching soul for divinity
patterns dissipating... signal lost

Tomas Haake called...he's suing for copyright infringement

 

[zabu of nΩd]

I have these lyrics that I've put to music, but wasn't really in the mood to try and record it tonight; so instead of posting it on my myspace I decided to share the lyrics here. They're inspired from a dream I had.

"The Whore of Babylon"
And the harlot sat in Babylon,
And a ship there sailed to meet her
In the solstice of the halcyon
By the command of Peter.
By day, it drove toward Babylon,
Toward the shore to greet her.

By night, the crew performed the rites
Of sacrifice and unction,
As their forebears, the Israelites,
Had done in swift conjunction.
These acts they did by all their nights
Commanded by their function.

They raised an altar on the craft
By which they knelt and prayed;
And though it had been set to aft,
To aft the altar stayed.
And by its wood the sailors laughed,
And by their word obeyed.

They set their children in the sea
To baptize and to bless them,
And gave to them their company
To educate and dress them.
For by this it was meant to be
That their children would impress them.

They sailed east for one hundred days
And anchored off the shores
Of Babylon, upon the Euphrates,
And gathered up their stores.
And they walked among the reprobates,
Upon the mother of whores.

Here they sank onto their knees
And begged the Whore to heed them,
But She would not hear their pleas
And said She did not need them.
And they wept upon the city streets
And begged the Whore to feed them.

When they returned they begged once more,
This time that She might release them,
But this She said, the kingly Whore,
That no ocean would appease them.
They cursed Her and the crown She wore,
And so Her guards they seized them.

The last they begged they wept no tears,
And asked the Whore to save them,
They said they’d abandoned all their fears
And refused the food She gave them.
They’d been Her prisoners for many years,
But no longer would She have them.

They cast aside their clothes at dawn,
They surrendered every token,
And stood aside as the noose was drawn-
Not a word was spoken.
Now those pilgrims are all gone,
But their silence remains unbroken.

Just got to this one - good read! I like how you develop the pilgrims throughout the poem, and how stoic they have become after imprisonment. Is this based on the Bible alone, or is there other "Whore of Babylon" literature you're drawing from? I'm not too familiar with that whole story/concept.

 

[divine_torture]

'Aspiring (To Be)'

I dream of desperation
A walk under a hazy sun
I sleep on rusted razors
Twice as much is half the fun

I cover my eyes with static
Another method to elude
I fall from skies diluted
Diluted skies fall back on me

Stand with me and spare the burden
Hold my hand...and wait

I see the fear of multitudes
Low on time and needs
I call the name of your god
To feel the light that you seek

I break the oath of silence
Slowly exhaled (but I can't breathe)
I spill the blood of virgins
Who needs them anyway?

Stand with me and spare the burden
Hold my hand...and faint
Take with you this warning
Smother your impressions

Justin Flemings-May 19, 2009

 

[Einherjar86]

Just got to this one - good read! I like how you develop the pilgrims throughout the poem, and how stoic they have become after imprisonment. Is this based on the Bible alone, or is there other "Whore of Babylon" literature you're drawing from? I'm not too familiar with that whole story/concept.

That story actually isn't in the Bible; I made it up for the poem. It's anachronistic, because by the time Peter (and Christianity as well) was alive and active Babylon was long gone. It serves in the New Testament as a metaphor for the Christians, although Biblical scholars disagree on exactly what it stands for. Some say the Roman Empire, others say it's the earthly, "fallen" Jerusalem. It is agreed though that it's some concept of sin, evil, or apostasy.

For my purposes it didn't really matter, although the mention of the Euphrates establishes it in the Middle-East.

It actually started as a personal poem; it was inspired by a very personal dream I had. However, the further into it I got the more the story began to develop, until I finally formed this concept in my mind of pilgrims who have either: a) accepted their journey because something happened in their homeland to cause them to want to leave, or b) been exiled. So then I knew it was a journey they would not return from.

I guess in the end it becomes more about belief and purpose. It can be inferred that their purpose in going to Babylon is to try and convert the Whore and her people; to show them the error of their ways. The Whore refuses their counsel and so they cry, both for the Whore and for themselves. They're reduced to begging for food; not in keeping with the characteristics of martyrdom.

The next time they ask to be released they react in anger, thus making their situation worse. Eventually they come to some kind of revelation, although I'm not entirely sure what it is. All they want is to be saved. The Whore's actions at the end can be interpreted differently too; one could interpret "save" as literal liberation, or spiritual salvation. So, depending on how you view it, the Whore may either deny them even in the end, or she may grant their final wish.

 

[zabu of nΩd]

It's interesting that you arrived at that from a personal dream. I wonder what the parallels were.

Anyway, good use of storytelling in poetic form, Pat. I like the characters, and the ending is striking as well as thought-provoking.

 

[Vimana]

I uploaded four poems onto deviant-art for anyone who wants to read my generic teen poetry.

http://candrakakasya.deviantart.com/

 

[panzerfaust666]

eh guys...can you give me some tips/advice for the poems I posted above? Constructive would be nice, ya dont gotta be overly mean haha.

Im asking for tips/advice/help mainly because I dropped out of school and never did pay attention to English. Now I am extremely interested in writing, but I have alot of catching up to do.

 

[Vimana]

In terms of content and your expression I think you are fine. You make mistakes in capitalization, spacing, spelling, and punctuation.

 

[V.V.V.V.V.]

detecting trace amounts of human libido
rotorvator active, drilling in
open wounds oxidising at 0.6 minute halflife
Dr. Nerve Spindle, BME, Legion #93 Academy
service discontinued - memory wiped
dump the bodies
new directive received

delete Colony 46
nearest volcanic node: 4 kilometers southwest
plutonium carbide at 322 p.p.m.
initiate purge

entering variegated timelapse array
...subspace web traversal complete

laconic amity dialogue
perception derivative of a fine-point geodesic construct
embryos in suspension
spindles forming the crossover cosmic pocket
teletype sequence input - patterns recognised
radiological nooscopy - 'the stuff of dreams, kid'

accessing desolation heuristic
magnetometric data inconclusive
cognitive regression inhibitors offline
searching soul for divinity
patterns dissipating... signal lost

I can only respond to this with:

"Reconstruction in the amorphous line of time
Powerful emanation of energy
I see the constellations changing colour
Mathematical combination of triangular visions

Perfect
to Syntonizing the elements to create the tunnel
Absorbing all planet energy, I'm the vortex, the epicentre...

Graphical emanation of numbers in my evolved system

Emanation

Equal Position? The equal unequal...
Erroneous calculation,
the imperfection of the human mind
Primitive facts, spectral sounds
Desperately in the surface I scream

Reconstruction in the amorphous line of time
Powerful emanation of energy

Perceived by the ones
Distant to understand, distant from stand
Insects are trying to introduce in the tunnel
Non-physical forms, the nucleus have to grow

Broken

Micro magnetic spectral perception

Manifest

Reconstruction in the amorphous line of time
Powerful emanation of energy
I see the constellations changing colour
Mathematical combination of triangular visions

Distant to understand, distant from stand
Distant to understand

Tunnel of ions

Equal position? The equal unequal...
Erroneous calculation,
The imperfection of the human mind
Primitive facts, spectral sounds."

 

[Einherjar86]

It's interesting that you arrived at that from a personal dream. I wonder what the parallels were.

Anyway, good use of storytelling in poetic form, Pat. I like the characters, and the ending is striking as well as thought-provoking.

Thanks man, I appreciate it.

detecting trace amounts of human libido
rotorvator active, drilling in
open wounds oxidising at 0.6 minute halflife
Dr. Nerve Spindle, BME, Legion #93 Academy
service discontinued - memory wiped
dump the bodies
new directive received

delete Colony 46
nearest volcanic node: 4 kilometers southwest
plutonium carbide at 322 p.p.m.
initiate purge

entering variegated timelapse array
...subspace web traversal complete

laconic amity dialogue
perception derivative of a fine-point geodesic construct
embryos in suspension
spindles forming the crossover cosmic pocket
teletype sequence input - patterns recognised
radiological nooscopy - 'the stuff of dreams, kid'

accessing desolation heuristic
magnetometric data inconclusive
cognitive regression inhibitors offline
searching soul for divinity
patterns dissipating... signal lost

I just saw this when looking back... holy shit! I love the paratactic approach to the language; it gives the impression of a machine/computer speaking.

It actually reminds me of portions of Vernor Vinge's book A Fire Upon the Deep or Dan Simmons's Fall of Hyperion.

I really love the mood and vocabulary; I know you've said before that you want to read more in order to expand your lexicon, but you really have an awesome range and variety.

Out of curiosity, have you ever read any of Peter Gabriel's rantings in the jackets to some of the earlier Genesis albums, particularly Foxtrot and The Lamb Lies Down on Broadway?

 

[Einherjar86]

No worries man, take your time.

I figured you were a cyberpunk fan. I'm just getting into the genre myself, although not the traditional stuff; I have some of China Miéville's material and recently picked up a copy of David J. Williams's The Mirrored Heavens. I haven't read anything by William Gibson or Neal Stephenson as well.

I love the writings you do that have this vibe. Peter Gabriel's writings aren't particularly cyberpunk, but his style reminds me of some of your surreal writing. I'll see if I can find some online and post an example here.