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POETRY thread POETRY thread!
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lady seals
Started Topics :
5
Posts :
76
Posted : Apr 19, 2011 08:13:51
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No one is a poet. Everyone is a poet. Nothing is poetry. Everything is poetry. Be it propaganda or presumptuous or phenomenal, post prophetic or potentially pointless poetry here.
To start... ahem......
There is SOMETHING going ON
and it makes me smile
things are catching on
I'm not alone
Hello.
You do.
You know something that I do
too
because there's something going on
woohoo
it makes me smile so
Seeing cosmos
All those
souls
smiling like they know
also
that there is something going on
happening
come on
party pants on
this is life
this is our dawn
it has been So all along
and it makes me smile
Oh to Know
the sacred song
that there is something going on.
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~Jessica~
IsraTrance Junior Member
Started Topics :
17
Posts :
370
Posted : Apr 19, 2011 20:12
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Got this one off of one of my ecstatic dance teachers website. Oh how I relate to it. Dancing is one of my favorite things to do and my body loves it!
We have come to be danced
Not the pretty dance.
Not the pretty pretty, pick me, pick me dance.
But the claw our way back into the belly
Of the sacred, sensual animal dance.
The unhinged, unplugged, cat is out of its box dance
The holding the precious moment in the palms
Of our hands and feet dance.
We have come to be danced
Not the jiffy booby, shake your booty for him dance
But the wring the sadness from our skin dance
The blow the chip off our shoulder dance.
The slap the apology from our posture dance.
We have come to be danced
Not the monkey see, monkey do dance
One two dance like you
One two three, dance like me dance
but the grave robber, tomb stalker
Tearing scabs and scars open dance
The rub the rhythm raw against our soul dance.
We have come to be danced
Not the nice, invisible, self-conscious shuffle
But the matted hair flying, voodoo mama
Shaman shakin’ ancient bones dance
The strip us from our casings, return our wings
Sharpen our claws and tongues dance
The shed dead cells and slip into
The luminous skin of love dance.
We have come to be danced
Not the hold our breath and wallow in the shallow end of the floor dance
But the meeting of the trinity, the body breath and beat dance
The shout hallelujah from the top of our thighs dance
The mother may I?
Yes you may take 10 giant leaps dance
The olly olly oxen free free free dance
The everyone can come to our heaven dance.
We have come to be danced
Where the kingdom’s collide
In the cathedral of flesh
To burn back into the light
To unravel, to play, to fly, to pray
To root in skin sanctuary
We have come to be danced
WE HAVE COME.
 Jessica
Atrium Obscurum
www.myspace.com/luckieleo Add me on facebook at http://www.facebook.com/profile.php?id=100000044207097 |
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sage2012
IsraTrance Junior Member
Started Topics :
27
Posts :
413
Posted : Apr 20, 2011 23:14
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lady seals
Started Topics :
5
Posts :
76
Posted : Apr 22, 2011 18:46
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DANCE OF THE KALI!
LOVE the poem Jess. She's doing the frustration dance now boy. She's a' moving.
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mudpeople
IsraTrance Full Member
Started Topics :
113
Posts :
1785
Posted : Apr 22, 2011 22:29
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Haiku desu
boku ga toransu
wa suki desu
LOL WATASHI GA NIHONGO NO HAIKU O IKIMASU
ICHI BAN DESU YO
(im not japanese and still am surprised that 2 yrs HS japanese has stuck with me for 11 yrs so far, also first time i ever wrote a haiku, nihongo de)
So now that the lulz are out... I groove with this thread, cats and kittens. *snaps fingers in applause*
As they said, we arrived as soft as eggshell
packed against the pulp-board cradle, first vessel
(body?)
knowing only warm, cold, light, and absence of light
pure perception of all creation, perhaps even
divine
Learn and stand as an individual differentiating Me from That, That from Her and Him
judgement-filter imprinted upon blank/pure nonself egg-mind
marring the emptiness with ego, personal reality interfaced with consensus
Tools best used are well maintained, cared for as respected workers
yet when they have no application the workspace is best kept uncluttered
a wise craftsman wastes no pondering, whether the phillips head, now stowed snug
can be applied to a hex-bolt
no matter how well it turns a philips
The psyche has a set of shiny gleaming case hardened Craftsmans
all lying eager to accept their tasks
and together strive to optimize
the operation of each rough beast
termed so vaguely
'myself'
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a'damn
IsraTrance Full Member
Started Topics :
89
Posts :
199
Posted : Apr 24, 2011 06:07
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Returned Envelope
the letter that he sent her got lost in the mail
turns out it was for the best as the letter was a fail
a string of words, bound in earnest, and signed with a smile
always in search of its true home, across town about three miles
I learned about this today when I opened up my box
i was soaking, dripping wet, from my head down to my socks
i saw the decorated envelope and i knew that it was lost
i thought about resending it, but then i saw the marks
the written words across the front, it was very clear
“Return to sender,” like the love, i used to cover fear
she always seemed the closest when her body wasn’t near
distance always suited her, it seemed that she was scared
it’s been three months since i’ve seen her, haven’t heard a peep
i wonder if this letter would have even made her think
for three months it had rested, near her kitchen sink
until one day she decided that it was a broken link
for a while she thought that she’d open it, when the timing was right
instead it got buried like her bills and the passing of the night
she decided as a gesture, as a way of reaching out
to return the letter to where it came, to send it on its final route
she wrote upon the envelope the magic words of three
then she walked down the street to post it properly
the mail box was brightly lit under the maple tree
as she dropped it in the slot she began to feel something
it was a tingle and a thought sent coursing through her spine
her mind, her heart, her lungs, her tongue, but was it a sign?
did this really mean something or was it a final sigh
a gasp of air, the release of hope, the death of what they shared
she will never notice and he will never learn
that their choices were still hopeless and they will always burn
their fear will engulf their souls in flames and they will always yearn
for a passion with which their hearts can easily discern
but tonight he walks from his mailbox to his lowly flat
thinking about his lover and where she might be at
while she sits across town, simply reading another book
a simple way to distract herself from taking a deeper look
she turns a page, drinks her wine, and pauses to close her eyes
she sees a vivid picture and it burns clearly in her mind
she sees a single child holding a string with a red balloon
this child begins to frown and then runs away too soon
the male slowly opens his door and turns on all the lights
puts down his bag, takes off his shoes, and embraces the respite
he listens to the silence and listens to the rain
from out his window he can hear it dripping into the drain
he walked into the kitchen to grab a cold beer from the fridge
she poured another glass of wine and took another wedge
of cheese to release the toxic thoughts that had gathered inside her head
the cracker box was empty but that was better for her bed
she drifted off to sleep and dreamed of many things
stars and bikes and trails and space and birdies that would sing
he sat upon his soft couch with one hand each holding
one had an opened can of beer and the other an unopened mailing
he decided that he wanted to remember what it was that he had wrote
so long ago, moved on anew, but his curiosity had spoke
so he opened up the letter as carefully as he could
he slid out a single sheet of paper and read his written words
“Wake up Marcus, you’re dreaming.
You’re gonna be late for work.
Love
-Annabel”
nlm - http://goaconstrictor.com v4.2 |
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a'damn
IsraTrance Full Member
Started Topics :
89
Posts :
199
Posted : Apr 24, 2011 06:08
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Nap Gnomes
At any point throughout the day
All over the entire world,
At least one person is napping
Be it a boy or a girl.
Young or old, tall or small
They close their eyes and dream,
They go to sleep a bit restless
And imagine forests green.
In the skies the dragons fly
And Apollo’s lute is played,
People dream of pretty princesses
In open fields they lay.
Dreaming of new bosses
And new jobs that make them smile,
Dreaming of all these little things
Makes them happier for awhile.
But there’s something that they don’t know
I’ll give you a little hint,
The dreams are our portals
To sneak in for a short bit.
We solely live inside your dreams
We can control your everything,
We’re the reason that you win
Or suffer, and even sing.
We’re the Nap Gnomes of Slumberland
Some say we’re Mischief Makers with Sandman,
However we can’t get into your brain at night
Only day time is when we can.
The daylight slumber is the gateway
For us to take you over,
Once we’re in, we might never leave
Unlike your high school lover.
We read your thoughts and feed upon
Forgotten memories,
We eat up all your failed hopes
And long lost fantasies.
Some of us get too fat
From feasting on these things,
Then we wait for your next nap
It’s our chance to leap free.
Not all of us will choose to leave though
Some of us will stay,
We begin to feel familiar
With what your thoughts have to say.
We like to twist up the fabric
Of your forgotten past,
We recreate your history
And we can do it real fast.
We take the day in fifth grade that
You got punched in the face,
And we change it into you winning
The big three-legged race.
Maybe the night you lost your child
Still haunts you deep inside,
We can ease that painful place
By replacing it with a lie.
We don’t only do nice work though
Some of us are tricksters,
Evil, rotten, dirty, Nap Gnomes
We’re not the Merry Pranksters.
We slowly change your memories
So you no longer know what’s true,
We think it’s funny to confuse you
We love it through and through.
You humans make it easy though
It’s like you want us here,
You always want to cover up
What you gaze at in the mirror.
You pretend that you never did
Those many hurtful things,
You imagine that you’re a good guy
You wear false angel wings.
You deny yourself the happiness
Deep inside your soul,
You say you don’t deserve it
You give back the King’s Gold.
You birthed us without knowing
Nurtured our race’s course,
Now we take advantage because
We’ve unlocked all your doors.
I come to you on this day
With a small peace offering,
I’ve gotten old, fed on many souls
And vanished wedding rings.
But I’ve grown tired of the life
That I used to live,
I want you to remember
All of the real things that you did.
So if you want to protect yourself
From my kinds company,
Stop taking naps in the day time
And you’ll never have to deal with me.
nlm - http://goaconstrictor.com v4.2 |
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lady seals
Started Topics :
5
Posts :
76
Posted : Apr 24, 2011 21:30
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Quote:
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On 2011-04-22 22:29, mudpeople wrote:
As they said, we arrived as soft as eggshell
packed against the pulp-board cradle, first vessel
(body?)
knowing only warm, cold, light, and absence of light
pure perception of all creation, perhaps even
divine
Learn and stand as an individual differentiating Me from That, That from Her and Him
judgement-filter imprinted upon blank/pure nonself egg-mind
marring the emptiness with ego, personal reality interfaced with consensus
Tools best used are well maintained, cared for as respected workers
yet when they have no application the workspace is best kept uncluttered
a wise craftsman wastes no pondering, whether the phillips head, now stowed snug
can be applied to a hex-bolt
no matter how well it turns a philips
The psyche has a set of shiny gleaming case hardened Craftsmans
all lying eager to accept their tasks
and together strive to optimize
the operation of each rough beast
termed so vaguely
'myself'
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Oh how we long for the nonself egg-mind again. Death and Rebirth might just do the trick. |
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