Poetry
- Thread starter Dazed and Brutal
- Start date
The Ozzman
Melted by feels
I know there is a poetry thread in The Philosopher, but that thread hardly gets any traffic, so I'm starting one here.
Here's one that I wrote just now that ended up being about the war:
Bleed for me
and give for you
while I stand
and watch it all unfold
Your destiny played out
on a television screen
for all to see
While your private thoughts
strewn about
on the ground
become public opinion
Post all of your poetry in this thread. Songs count as well.
Here's one that I wrote just now that ended up being about the war:
Bleed for me
and give for you
while I stand
and watch it all unfold
Your destiny played out
on a television screen
for all to see
While your private thoughts
strewn about
on the ground
become public opinion
Post all of your poetry in this thread. Songs count as well.
cookiecutter
Proceed to Ultraslamming
The Ozzman
Melted by feels
Whichever. The poetry thread in The Philosopher includes poetry by people other posters like, so that is acceptable.
I would like the majority of this thread to be original works, but whatever.
The Ozzman
Melted by feels
I write the bulk of my poetry while listening to songs.
Most of the stuff I write is written while listening to Katatonia. That is great stuff for inspiration
Most of the stuff I write is written while listening to Katatonia. That is great stuff for inspiration
The Ozzman
Melted by feels
Some more stuff of mine:
Set in Stone
These cryptic writings
You set in stone
Help seal your fate
This pocket watch relationship
ticks away
As I drink to forget about
All the lies you told
and all the things that might have been
One Last Wish
Premonitions take over
as you twist in fear
'Trust Me' is your mantra
as you stab me in the back
and leave me to die
Screaming in agony
for someone to hold me
The Mechanics of Baking
Upside down cake
right side up
I drink a beer
and throw away the can
Popcorn sitting on the table
half consumed in a drunken fervor
over existential quandary
Set in Stone
These cryptic writings
You set in stone
Help seal your fate
This pocket watch relationship
ticks away
As I drink to forget about
All the lies you told
and all the things that might have been
One Last Wish
Premonitions take over
as you twist in fear
'Trust Me' is your mantra
as you stab me in the back
and leave me to die
Screaming in agony
for someone to hold me
The Mechanics of Baking
Upside down cake
right side up
I drink a beer
and throw away the can
Popcorn sitting on the table
half consumed in a drunken fervor
over existential quandary
zabu of nΩd
Free Insultation
- Feb 9, 2007
- 14,620
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That was unexpected. Also my favorite of the three, being a little less pretentious and having more of an 'in the moment' feel. ...If that makes any sense, that is.
The Ozzman
Melted by feels
See, I wrote that during my last year of college while eating dinner during finals week at the school's pub. I thought it was one of my stronger pieces. I considered it something that most people don't do, and that's ponder the meaning of life. I don't know many people my age that even talk about this, let alone write about it.
zabu of nΩd
Free Insultation
- Feb 9, 2007
- 14,620
- 805
- 113
The Ozzman
Melted by feels
If you want more of that 'in the moment' feel, have a look at these:
The Versatility of Tupperware
The tupperware basket
with many purposes
walks on legs
and I walk on thoughts
of why it's like this
and tell it to eat
empty liquor bottles
Dereliction
Still life changes
beyond time's desire
A massive being
comes into play
Wouldn't it be nice
to awake seeing peace
breaking hopes
into nothingness?
The Versatility of Tupperware
The tupperware basket
with many purposes
walks on legs
and I walk on thoughts
of why it's like this
and tell it to eat
empty liquor bottles
Dereliction
Still life changes
beyond time's desire
A massive being
comes into play
Wouldn't it be nice
to awake seeing peace
breaking hopes
into nothingness?
The Ozzman
Melted by feels
Here's a friend's poems that I think are fucking phenomenal:
Nothing But Cold
I have worn your pain
like a velvet topcoat
worn only to impress legions of pigs.
Draped over my shoulders
I have tolerated your hate like a candle-lit mural
Painted only to cut the eyes
Of those who love you.
Whiskey and Cereal
Drunk with ambivalence,
I stumbled down a familiar bottle.
An old friend;
He lets me flush my thoughts
Into a fermented enigma
Nothing But Cold
I have worn your pain
like a velvet topcoat
worn only to impress legions of pigs.
Draped over my shoulders
I have tolerated your hate like a candle-lit mural
Painted only to cut the eyes
Of those who love you.
Whiskey and Cereal
Drunk with ambivalence,
I stumbled down a familiar bottle.
An old friend;
He lets me flush my thoughts
Into a fermented enigma
MasterOLightning
Optimator
Ozzman, I think you would really like Charles Bukowski. I think anyone here would, to be honest. It's very real, unpretentious stuff. Very metal, in a sense.
I wrote some decent stuff a few years ago. I've tried to write recently for my music, but I haven't been satisfied. I like the stuff I did when I was 17 or so, but it doesn't fit my music.
I wrote some decent stuff a few years ago. I've tried to write recently for my music, but I haven't been satisfied. I like the stuff I did when I was 17 or so, but it doesn't fit my music.
zabu of nΩd
Free Insultation
- Feb 9, 2007
- 14,620
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^ Those are all pretty awesome, Ozz. I like the bizarre streams of thought. Your friend can write some damn sophisticated metaphors, by the way.
MasterOLightning
Optimator
I found these in my computer, and I think they're decent.
---------------------
In a moment, a catastrophe.
A vase three inches from the ground
It’s like when you’ve cut yourself shaving
And you’re waiting for the blood to flow
What can be done?
You wait and wait
For the vase to drop
For the bleeding
For all time to stop
And when it does, know this:
Write your own clichés.
---------------------------------------------------
I stay up late until I feel crazy enough
There's a certain point
Where the hands of a clock converge
To press my mind and squeeze out anything
Satisfactory.
Eyeballs are wrung dry like an old rag
Then things look how they're supposed to
Hands dance in the moonlight of the computer screen.
It's a beautiful day to bathe in darkness
--------------------------------------------------------
It rains and rains
And the cars drive by and crush puddles
Don't you remember the sound of rain
Like television static out the window?
And the particular green the leaves turn?
Something with the water and the streetlamps
And the missing moon missing its reflection.
------------------------------------------------
Sick of hearing my computer breathing
at night
I would rather hear
you.
----------------------------------------
A sonar ping in the middle of the day!
And I’m at my caffeinated best.
Now this is man-bites-dog newsworthy.
I've done better work, but those are on my home PC.
---------------------
In a moment, a catastrophe.
A vase three inches from the ground
It’s like when you’ve cut yourself shaving
And you’re waiting for the blood to flow
What can be done?
You wait and wait
For the vase to drop
For the bleeding
For all time to stop
And when it does, know this:
Write your own clichés.
---------------------------------------------------
I stay up late until I feel crazy enough
There's a certain point
Where the hands of a clock converge
To press my mind and squeeze out anything
Satisfactory.
Eyeballs are wrung dry like an old rag
Then things look how they're supposed to
Hands dance in the moonlight of the computer screen.
It's a beautiful day to bathe in darkness
--------------------------------------------------------
It rains and rains
And the cars drive by and crush puddles
Don't you remember the sound of rain
Like television static out the window?
And the particular green the leaves turn?
Something with the water and the streetlamps
And the missing moon missing its reflection.
------------------------------------------------
Sick of hearing my computer breathing
at night
I would rather hear
you.
----------------------------------------
A sonar ping in the middle of the day!
And I’m at my caffeinated best.
Now this is man-bites-dog newsworthy.
I've done better work, but those are on my home PC.
Zephyrus
Tyrants and Slaves
The Ozzman
Melted by feels
My friend is extremely intelligent. He has an IQ of 165 or something ridiculous like that. He's a big Napalm Death fan too..
The Ozzman
Melted by feels
Here's some poetry from a guy called Richard Brautigan that my friend got me into:
"1942"
Piano tree, play
in the dark concert halls
of my uncle,
twenty-six years old, dead
and homeward bound
on a ship from Sitka,
his coffin travels
like the fingers
of Beethoven
over a glass
of wine.
Piano tree, play
in the dark concert halls
of my uncle,
a legend of my childhood, dead,
they send him back
to Tacoma.
At night his coffin
travels like the birds
that fly beneath the sea,
never touching the sky.
Piano tree, play
in the dark concert halls
of my uncle,
take his heart
for a lover
and take his death
for a bed,
and send him homeward bound
on a ship from Sitka
to bury him
where I was born.
IT’S RAINING IN LOVE
I don’t know what it is,
But I distrust myself
When I start to like a girl
A lot.
It makes me nervous.
I don’t say the right things
Or perhaps I start
To examine,
Evaluate,
Compute
What I am saying.
If I say, “Do you think it’s going to rain?”
and she says, “I don’t know,”
I start thinking: Does she really like me?
In other words
I get a little creepy.
A friend of mine once said,
“It’s twenty times better to be friends
with someone
than it is to be in love with them.”
I think he’s right and besides,
its raining somewhere, programming flowers
and keeping snails happy.
That’s all taken care of.
BUT
if a girl likes me a lot
and starts getting real nervous
and suddenly begins asking me funny questions
and looks sad if I give the wrong answers
and she says things like,
“Do you think it’s going to rain?”
and I say, “It beats me,”
and she says, “Oh,”
and looks a little sad
at the clear blue California sky,
I think: Thank God, it’s you, baby, this time
Instead of me.
"1942"
Piano tree, play
in the dark concert halls
of my uncle,
twenty-six years old, dead
and homeward bound
on a ship from Sitka,
his coffin travels
like the fingers
of Beethoven
over a glass
of wine.
Piano tree, play
in the dark concert halls
of my uncle,
a legend of my childhood, dead,
they send him back
to Tacoma.
At night his coffin
travels like the birds
that fly beneath the sea,
never touching the sky.
Piano tree, play
in the dark concert halls
of my uncle,
take his heart
for a lover
and take his death
for a bed,
and send him homeward bound
on a ship from Sitka
to bury him
where I was born.
IT’S RAINING IN LOVE
I don’t know what it is,
But I distrust myself
When I start to like a girl
A lot.
It makes me nervous.
I don’t say the right things
Or perhaps I start
To examine,
Evaluate,
Compute
What I am saying.
If I say, “Do you think it’s going to rain?”
and she says, “I don’t know,”
I start thinking: Does she really like me?
In other words
I get a little creepy.
A friend of mine once said,
“It’s twenty times better to be friends
with someone
than it is to be in love with them.”
I think he’s right and besides,
its raining somewhere, programming flowers
and keeping snails happy.
That’s all taken care of.
BUT
if a girl likes me a lot
and starts getting real nervous
and suddenly begins asking me funny questions
and looks sad if I give the wrong answers
and she says things like,
“Do you think it’s going to rain?”
and I say, “It beats me,”
and she says, “Oh,”
and looks a little sad
at the clear blue California sky,
I think: Thank God, it’s you, baby, this time
Instead of me.
Triton
In Solitude
vikk
Member
- Nov 29, 2005
- 21,533
- 97
- 48
Cries in the Wind
an angry storm has come to earth
along with the mourn of the rain
only the weeping wind was there before
although it says nothing to me
it brings sleepiness to my exhaust heart
gazing through the dusted window
to a landscape plagued by earth
my mind scapes to a unknow land
and I wonder what might have been
and i wonder just what went wrong
i watch
the mist
drift
past my face
now someone else will take my place
and will hear the sad mourn of the rain
the same monologue of the bygone days
and sometimes in the pale of the night
you can hear my cries in the wind
an angry storm has come to earth
along with the mourn of the rain
only the weeping wind was there before
although it says nothing to me
it brings sleepiness to my exhaust heart
gazing through the dusted window
to a landscape plagued by earth
my mind scapes to a unknow land
and I wonder what might have been
and i wonder just what went wrong
i watch
the mist
drift
past my face
now someone else will take my place
and will hear the sad mourn of the rain
the same monologue of the bygone days
and sometimes in the pale of the night
you can hear my cries in the wind
A8
Member
- Jul 29, 2007
- 975
- 0
- 16
i like this because its so direct and to the point, even slightly sarcastic. She doesnt use big words or try to write about some profound meaning. It just...there.
You roar
A primal thing you do
Every day when I come home
at noon
But why, is there a reason?
All Im seeing is the
Scotch you left on the arm chair
The crack pipe on the counter
The needle on the floor
The vacant eyes you leave behind
Before I get the grind
Make it seem like Im the one
Disobedient and cruel
I should be chained and trodden
For contravention of your rules
Another empty glass
Another empty night
Another empty sight
The cracked wall
From where Ive hit it again and again
Those blue
Lifeless
Driven eyes
Vindictive malicious
Thats who I am
Do you even know what the
Burden is that I put upon you
Did I not let you get an easier shot
At my visage
At my heart
I guess its just
Because I forgot to pick up the sock
I dropped while doing the laundry
Shameful
Oh so shameful
I deserve this
I deserve more
You roar
A primal thing you do
Every day when I come home
at noon
But why, is there a reason?
All Im seeing is the
Scotch you left on the arm chair
The crack pipe on the counter
The needle on the floor
The vacant eyes you leave behind
Before I get the grind
Make it seem like Im the one
Disobedient and cruel
I should be chained and trodden
For contravention of your rules
Another empty glass
Another empty night
Another empty sight
The cracked wall
From where Ive hit it again and again
Those blue
Lifeless
Driven eyes
Vindictive malicious
Thats who I am
Do you even know what the
Burden is that I put upon you
Did I not let you get an easier shot
At my visage
At my heart
I guess its just
Because I forgot to pick up the sock
I dropped while doing the laundry
Shameful
Oh so shameful
I deserve this
I deserve more
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