The new poetry thread

Demonspell

cheating the polygraph
Apr 29, 2001
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dead between the walls
www.ultimatemetal.com
I'll begin with one I wrote in response to the catastrophic events of this week. I'll let the next person supply the first set of five words.

The Wounded Enigma
An elegy dedicated to all that has been lost

I see a void where a wonder of the modern world once stood
Limitless devastation in the center of the world and how could
We as a species have the power to inflict by our own hand
Such disgusting savageness against our own race called man
We have lost the wounded enigma holding our defenses
And forever buried shall lie our inborn invincible pretenses
Innocent passengers used as pawns by the enfant terrorists
The harbingers of infinite sorrow in a horrible fatal descent
And questions we dare to contemplate let alone answer
Encircle our fragile psyches as we sift through the concrete grave
How can we sleep? How many more must die?
Will this reign of terrorism ever end? Will there be another holy war?
And the towers built to withstand the procession of time eternal
Vanished into a cauldron of debris before disbelieving eyes
But still hope remains and we wave our vengeful colors high
And out of these tragic ashes a monolithic symbol of valor
Shall rise once again, united we stand against the roguish lies
Spread by Laden suicidal demagogues who cannot kill our pride
For the merciless spirit of retribution has manifested in our minds
Time enough for war, for every civilian tear that marks this ground
We will drive the agents of torturous brutality six feet underground
We are the great arsenal, we are the keepers of freedom’s flame



WE AREAMERICA
 
Do you mind if i post some poetry not related to current events, Demonspell? I don't want to destroy the essence of your thread...

Aside from that, I dig the poem: well crafted. I have a feeling not everyone will think the same, because I get the feeling American patriotism is frowned upon here. So even if no one else liked it, it was good, man.

(is the "We Are America" technicolor thing part of the poem? It's a nice addition).
 
nice poem, only marred by the last five lines in my opinion, i accept that feelings run deep and strong at the moment but surely it is wrong to on the one hand to so eloquintly speak of such horrors, "Such disgusting savageness against our own race called man", and yet on the other speak of retribution and war, brutality begets brutallity and hate begets hate, surely it's about time we must try to break the cycle, i accept that this is a poetry thread and my comments don't really belong here but it's just something i feel strongly about, after all you cannot kill an ideal or a cause with weapons of murder and destruction, only make martyrs for others to follow.....
 
I cried tonight, it hit me hard
The visions of the terrorist deed
The change, I feel it in my soul
The planting of the evil seed

The future path, it is unknown
Except for the battles we will engage
The enemy hides in a cowardice way
But they've let us out of our invisible cage

We will spread our wings and fly real high
Since they've challenged us where we live
Do they really know what they've unleashed
For there's no mercy we can give

The battles we've won, the past behind
Our history has been told
But the sleeping giant begins to awake
And our power we will unfold

As we mourn for all the lives that were lost
From these senseless and murderous plans
Our solidarity runs deep and our unity is strong
For we are proud to be Americans
 
chemical hues airs shrouded with acrid dust star-spangled banners wavering in circles coldness shivering silence and nonsense utterances and chants of "god bless yous" human beings marching soldiers lights and cellphones bald skylines bloodied earth golden sunshine morning fog eery traffic bodies falling from skies their arms waving in desperation ghost planes emerging from clouds videographed tears fuel physical pain civillians and lives captured on plastic interviews emotional pain rubble and destruction watered stairwells carpetted exits glass shattered miles away avalanching monstrous dust eddying wisking wisping over streets immobile smoke dead stillness bruises screams fire engines satelites anguished visages screams candlelight vigils rainbows of people suffering hugs and kisses forlorn hopes false information heroes in the sunset fighting against the rains shades of grey and humanity global community silent stars romantic horizons towers crumbling like powder skies unclasping former loves bearded men in turbins pangs of concrete screech noise collapsing fragile heroism caves darkness steel wires body parts tortured corpses litter inward rubble bloodied microphones voices quivering "i love yous" blessed goodbyes imminent tragedy surreal incredulous surreal disbelief surreal death healing convalescing healing nations rallying in support spirit and strength people in prayer emerging cries rage pride moblizing from spirited guts that won't die war hatred silence on the boardwalk people holding hands love hope sea gulls gliding over statues loss life the fragrance of oceans and the sound of waves that splashed upon an island where people never sleep will never die will never stop dreaming will never stop loving will live to live and hope amidst this chaos that never stops spinning but dissapears forever for all of us who have lived to suffer and miss those who didn't survive.
 
the night before the first of another year
just dawning for those under an angry open sky
and so much of it blue

the day to change times made clear
looms the darkness over men soon nigh
obscuring the white of innocence

the confusion of mourning or fear
forgiveness forgotten and priciples awry
a red-blooded nation calling for blood


(a reference on the first line: it was about 10pm local time when the bombings occured, on the night before my birthday)
 
Variations, Op. 11

This is a song for Bin Laden, after he's dead. His face is in a boat, amongs the violets. Clouds reflected in the spring. Logs in the water touch the fresh wood and float by the mill. The moon races on. We turn around, and see his grandmother. She stands far away, awaiting the approaching vessel. A few cows nearby, ringing bells. She stands motionless, against the open field. As the boat swims away from us, we hear her voice traverse the land : 'MY PUPPY ! HERE IS YOUR TOOTHBRUSH !'


D. T. Mullholand
 
How about:

When you're wounded and left on Afganistan's Plains
And the women come out to cut what remains
Just roll to your rifle and blow out your brains
An' go to your Gawd like a man

- Kipling

although the prefered poem might be

...or being hated, don't give way to hating...
 
Wow, I must say there are some damn good poets here, I write some poetry myself just to let out some thoughts and feelings, but not as good as most of the stuff I read here, anyways here's one I wrote while thinking about what happened last tuesday:

*"We may be humans, but we're still animals"

On September 11th, in the year of '01
Our home, invaded; Our freedom undone
Innocent civilians, slaughtered without regret
Ten thousand, maybe more, and it isn't over yet
But is this our doing? or is this just or fate?
Our world, love, and happiness, torn apart by hate

How can we hate so much?
How can we be so cruel?
Our love so small,
as our greed stands tall
How can we not care at all?

..Throughout the existence of our kind, there has been one thing to separate us from the other beings of our world...the ability to reason, the ability to resolve problems peacefully, the ability to voice our opinions with harming each other....

.....And still we fail to reason with each other
We fail to respect our human dignity
Because of this, we kill our brothers
Because of this, we'll never be free
And we'll never see,
what our world could be

Why must we destroy what doesn't please our own?
We're killing our futures with every move we make
We must learn to understand, accept, and condone
What we feel inside is the one thing they can't take

They took our freedom, but they won't have it for long..
This battle may be over, but the war they haven't won
------------------------------------------------------------------------

*the title is from Steve Vai's song Liberty from Passion and Warfare, and how true it is

some parts can seem to contradict each other a little, in a sense, that's just because as I thought about all that happened and what could happen still, I had mixed feelings about certain aspects