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Thread: Poems, Prose, or Quotes - Writings by you or others

  1. #1
    Societal egress and ennui Catoptric's Avatar
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    Poems, Prose, or Quotes - Writings by you or others

    Leaves, of Antipathy 11/1/2019

    Of somnolence and self-castration.
    The sound of doldrums, call
    The fall, of all whom; self-flagellation.
    Bold, and tall, molten; saw.

    Wander off into, the nation
    Finding, all those forsaken, fall
    End all, their heart-felt station;
    Bring to them a new, salvation.

    Wintering and sympathy; ebbs and flows
    A token romance with no end in sight,
    Like some mercurial day-dream.

    Fetishism and masochism; malcontent
    Withering in daylight; sings romance.
    Salves of entrenched, entrapment.

    Wanton fury has no jury of peers
    In a see-saw of self-imposed exile
    The sight of betrayal, cast about;
    Like a ship without sails.

    The rite-of-passage wrote off
    To be told in the leaves, of destiny.
    Forsaken; run amuck in flames of immolation;
    The fault of no one, other than, oneself.

    Given flight on a whim, like Phaethon,
    Ascending into the heavens;
    Torn asunder, rendered by, the son.
    The shadow belabored by, the son.

    Ryan Mathew Parr
    Last edited by Catoptric; 11-10-2019 at 10:32 AM.

  2. #2
    Senior Member roki's Avatar
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    If You've Gotta Be Dumb, You Better Be Quick
    by roki

    I don't want to think here
    I don't want to think there
    I don't want to think anywh

  3. #3
    Societal egress and ennui Catoptric's Avatar
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    Balance, of the Sacrosanct 11/9/2019

    The body is a temple laid out to a plan,
    Unfurled like some carpet, for the future of humanity.
    Rights bequeathed onto participants; actions speak louder than words.
    Unsung; unharmonized hypertrophic anachronisms.

    Bastions of sorrow in allocutions;
    Like some plea bargain of innocence,
    Inoculating the sterile intemperate, malapropisms;
    Castes, of an illusion to an oasis.

    Smug to the fall, balanced out by an act
    Fulfills the requite disharmony, of the temple.
    The god, of an illusion, in a mirage.
    As ephemeral, and cast about, once unfurled.

    Ryan Mathew Parr

  4. #4
    Senior Member roki's Avatar
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    Non-Hyundai, non-sonata Sonata
    by roki

    I'd whip out the thesaurus if I gave a shit about this poem
    And talk about how I'm a young Carolyn Forche

    El Salvador.

    Guerrillas.

    DRONES; before the time.
    A rhyme in a poem is a rhyme in a poem

    And it's expected to be a * in a *

    She's present.
    Carolyn is

    Me too
    ~*~Me~*~, that is

    But I'm not
    And she's not

    Neither of us are anything other than anything's been

    We're nothing other than spectators.
    Visitors.
    Onlookers, visitors, spectators, visitors,
    anglo-visitors

    Lowercase a

    Guests
    Travelers

    Identityless
    Temporary
    Residents

    Visiting visitors

    Visiting visitors




    Looking inside from the outside from the inside of the in

  5. #5
    i dunno, looks convincing
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    I get my weed from the best sources
    I like it smooth, not course like horse hooves
    The weeds I smoke never touched by pesticides
    To smoke that chem weed—simply suicide
    The way it’s grown, is very important
    I only smoke the plants that are very potent
    And when I blaze, I feel bionic
    'Cause the weed I smoke is—hydroponic


    "shut off his mic that niggas' wack"

  6. #6
    Mens bona regnum possidet ferrus's Avatar
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    Ode to the West Wind
    by Percy Bysshe Shelley

    I
    O wild West Wind, thou breath of Autumn's being,
    Thou, from whose unseen presence the leaves dead
    Are driven, like ghosts from an enchanter fleeing,

    Yellow, and black, and pale, and hectic red,
    Pestilence-stricken multitudes: O thou,
    Who chariotest to their dark wintry bed

    The winged seeds, where they lie cold and low,
    Each like a corpse within its grave, until
    Thine azure sister of the Spring shall blow

    Her clarion o'er the dreaming earth, and fill
    (Driving sweet buds like flocks to feed in air)
    With living hues and odours plain and hill:

    Wild Spirit, which art moving everywhere;
    Destroyer and preserver; hear, oh hear!

    II
    Thou on whose stream, mid the steep sky's commotion,
    Loose clouds like earth's decaying leaves are shed,
    Shook from the tangled boughs of Heaven and Ocean,

    Angels of rain and lightning: there are spread
    On the blue surface of thine ary surge,
    Like the bright hair uplifted from the head

    Of some fierce Maenad, even from the dim verge
    Of the horizon to the zenith's height,
    The locks of the approaching storm. Thou dirge

    Of the dying year, to which this closing night
    Will be the dome of a vast sepulchre,
    Vaulted with all thy congregated might

    Of vapours, from whose solid atmosphere
    Black rain, and fire, and hail will burst: oh hear!

    III
    Thou who didst waken from his summer dreams
    The blue Mediterranean, where he lay,
    Lull'd by the coil of his crystalline streams,

    Beside a pumice isle in Baiae's bay,
    And saw in sleep old palaces and towers
    Quivering within the wave's intenser day,

    All overgrown with azure moss and flowers
    So sweet, the sense faints picturing them! Thou
    For whose path the Atlantic's level powers

    Cleave themselves into chasms, while far below
    The sea-blooms and the oozy woods which wear
    The sapless foliage of the ocean, know

    Thy voice, and suddenly grow gray with fear,
    And tremble and despoil themselves: oh hear!

    IV
    If I were a dead leaf thou mightest bear;
    If I were a swift cloud to fly with thee;
    A wave to pant beneath thy power, and share

    The impulse of thy strength, only less free
    Than thou, O uncontrollable! If even
    I were as in my boyhood, and could be

    The comrade of thy wanderings over Heaven,
    As then, when to outstrip thy skiey speed
    Scarce seem'd a vision; I would ne'er have striven

    As thus with thee in prayer in my sore need.
    Oh, lift me as a wave, a leaf, a cloud!
    I fall upon the thorns of life! I bleed!

    A heavy weight of hours has chain'd and bow'd
    One too like thee: tameless, and swift, and proud.

    V
    Make me thy lyre, even as the forest is:
    What if my leaves are falling like its own!
    The tumult of thy mighty harmonies

    Will take from both a deep, autumnal tone,
    Sweet though in sadness. Be thou, Spirit fierce,
    My spirit! Be thou me, impetuous one!

    Drive my dead thoughts over the universe
    Like wither'd leaves to quicken a new birth!
    And, by the incantation of this verse,

    Scatter, as from an unextinguish'd hearth
    Ashes and sparks, my words among mankind!
    Be through my lips to unawaken'd earth

    The trumpet of a prophecy! O Wind,
    If Winter comes, can Spring be far behind?
    Die Logik ist keine Lehre, sondern ein Spiegelbild der Welt. Die Logik ist transcendental. - Wittgenstein

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