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  1. #21


    It's night-time in the city
    Colorful lights and dashing cars
    Homeless people caught up in self-pity
    A caos of lights, sounds and stars

    I stand still in the fast streams
    Of cars, people, sounds and voices
    Time is going ahead of me, it seems
    Nothing bothers me, be it people or noises

    As if the whole world around me
    Was only colored in tones of grey
    Suddenly, in the middle, I see
    Another colored person, facing this way

    I can't see a face. Who can that be?
    She too is standing still, it seems
    In the city resembling a raging sea
    Like I was, I wonder what it all means

    A busy road separates us from each other
    I see that she was looking at me too
    Looking around, thinking she meant another
    Time was fast for everyone, except for us two

    A bus passes by between the two of us
    Blocking my view of her, Darned luck
    As it drives past, I can't see her because
    She seemed to have disappeared. F***.

    Oh well. I don't know this even took place
    But instead of being caught-up in sorrow
    I'll just go back home, at a slow pace
    Confident of another oportunity tomorrow.

  2. #22
    Customary AWESOME Title Solstis's Avatar
    Join Date
    Jun 2003
    I Missed the Ground


    Reassurances of life forever young, the glowing portal tempts you with images, the world of plastic.

    Plastic money, plastic people, rigid flexibility.

    Evolution of the writer, devolution of the language, Reality: The Abridged Version, Volume 3.

    Save me, oh save that spark of genius in all.

    Led into the beauty of mindlessness, I betray myself yet again.

    Learn how to stab yourself in the back, Mass Media is offering lessons today!

    Line 1: Television.
    Line 2: Living off of credit, intangible numbers. "Plastic People" refers to both the collective illusion of beauty and the readiness of a person to jump to whatever crusade fits him or her best.
    Line 3: Writers flock to blogs, the Internet. At the same time, the English language loses all meaning, thus reality becomes twisted. Despite being a post modernist, I believe this to be a dangerous thing. I'd rather reality be shattered and laid bare, not become some pathetic ruse. Also, I like the number 3.
    Line 4: A plea.
    Line 5: Screw that shit, I feel like watching television.
    Line 6: I've realized that Mass Media is diluting the very language I love. Hey, did you hear about that new MTV show?

    I could make this longer, not to mention make it flow better, but any extra would just be filler. Waste. Excrement.

    <font size=-1>[ This Message was edited by: Solstis on 2005-09-09 09:13 ]</font>

  3. #23


    Standing by the window
    Eyes upon the moon
    Hoping that the memory
    will leave her spirit soon

    She shuts the doors and lights
    And lays her body on the bed
    Where images and words are
    running deep
    She has too much pride to pull
    the sheets above her head
    So quietly she lays and waits
    for sleep

    She stares at the ceiling
    And tries not to think
    And pictures the chains
    She's been trying to link again
    But the feeling is gone

    And water can't cover her
    And ashes can't answer her
    God give me the power to take
    breath from a breeze
    And call life from a cold metal

    In with the ashes
    Or up with the smoke from the
    With wings up in heaven
    Or here, lying in bed
    Palm of her hand to my head
    Now and forever curled in my
    And the heart of the world

    (by Moore)

  4. #24


    In the Spirit

    It's a cold day today.
    'As cold as any other,'
    Some do say.

    Can't complain though;
    The sun is shining,
    Off I go.

    Out and about, oh lonely me.
    Places to be, people to meet,
    Sights to see.

    That day, every year,
    Is nearing once again.
    Do not fear.

    Buy your gifts and capers;
    Wrap them up in secrets.
    Smiles beneath paper.

    Friends and family cheer;
    They're happy as ever.
    Come, New Year!

    These simple things do bring
    A sense of happiness this day.
    Something to sing!

    How do you get to it,
    That feeling of serenity?
    In the Spirit.

    EDIT: Whoops! Forgot to mention...

    Happy Holidays everyone!

    <font size=-1>[ This Message was edited by: WraithVerge on 2005-12-14 21:52 ]</font>

  5. #25
    Mister Cellophane
    Join Date
    Jan 2006


    I strike, I spin
    But am beaten in
    I launch, and I fire
    But my enemies, they never tire
    My resolve wearing thin,
    I run from the din.
    Ah, the failed killer for hire.
    ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ ~~~~~

    Ne'er defeated, though accused
    the defendant stands 'gainst plaintiff true
    Immortal by law, the sands of time
    will weather the tyrant
    'till his end draws nigh
    ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ ~~~

    Like a guitar, finely tuned
    or a sparrow, asong in June
    life's lilting melody flows
    until its musician plays no more.

  6. #26


    This is a nice thread. I'll contribute with a little something I wrote a while back.

    A truth from which all legends will rise
    and within that fate,
    it's seams we'll dispise.
    Which in veil lay secrets
    kept from our lips
    which in veil lay secrets
    that still rain depicts,
    and in such silence
    fall whales and our kings
    where beneath endless heavens,
    birds hide in their wings
    and stare just to mimic
    this weakest reply
    and flow so abrupt
    to the earth, from the sky
    to bide
    to protect
    their seams in disguise.
    To love and to cherish
    our most hated of lies.


    Some people become so comfortable conforming to a superficial standard that when they struggle to make sense of they way they live their lives, it is at the expense of their own self esteem and well-being. There's a little more to this poem then just that, but it all revolves around that.

    <font size=-1>[ This Message was edited by: Atayin on 2006-03-04 17:35 ]</font>

  7. #27
    Mister Cellophane
    Join Date
    Jan 2006


    I'm back with more!

    I dreamt of a boat yesterday.
    What was its name? I don't recall
    much about what I dream. Ah,
    here's another: a shimmering glade.
    Who was that person? It doesn't matter.
    How do I walk on the moon and learn Geometry?
    And where am I now? Sleep
    Is confusing. But I wake now.
    I dreamt of a boat yesterday.

    here's one that I'm still kind of working out:

    A Brief Respite
    Thrust, parry, retreat.
    Thus is the pattern of life, you see.
    An endless waltz of glimmering steel
    We fight to survive, with only short leave
    And while we take that brief respite,
    We slumber restlessly through the night.
    We wake, we rise, we dress, and then
    Our three-beat lives begin again.

  8. #28


    Toughness, bedbound
    Still at war.

    For one instant the enemy a hidden stranger
    unleashing from the clearing's edge
    rocket-borne disaster to the hovering craft;

    Now the enemy
    crushed feet cast in white plaster
    tortured frame rebelling with each command to move.

    No, deny it, fight
    the past tense whispers
    talk of long recuperation
    sheets' subversive invitation to relax.

    No, goddam it
    fight the deeper pain
    lost command, aborted destiny;

    A life, like a book
    suddenly tiresome to an unknown reader
    slammed shut.

    Broken, bandaged body, pain raw
    fighting the embrace of pillow and sheet
    Infantry commander, eyes moist
    against all resistance a tear
    conquers stubbled cheek.

  9. #29
    Mister Cellophane
    Join Date
    Jan 2006


    Doodle Days

    Do you remember doodle days?
    Those boring classes that made energy fade?
    A pencil or pen was
    Your savior then
    And the doodle would come to your aid!

    What fun you had with that pencil or pen
    Shading in papers with "SHORYUKEN!"
    Or whatever it was
    That you drew because
    You were falling asleep, dreaming then!

    Doodle days, school days, how were they?
    All the same or always lame, or just the standard student's bane?
    A pencil or pen
    Was your savior then
    And you drew what you dreamt
    Be it goals, gouls, or 50 Cent
    Or did you pen poetry instead?

  10. #30


    At the top of your game,
    No one can beat this fame.
    Greatest of all, only one around
    Until it all comes crashing down.

    On the tip of that mountain,
    King of all and so proud.
    Be happy with your golden crown
    Before it all comes crashing down.

    At the head of the table,
    Boss of many, keeping it stable.
    Mistakes happen, no time to frown
    As it all comes crashing down.

    At the climax of your day,
    Everything going your way.
    Holding your head in your hands now...
    When it all comes crashing down.

    Build yourself up, watch yourself fall.
    There's no way to stop it,
    Going to lose it all.

    No need to cry, you are free now.
    Only thing left to do is smile
    While it all comes crashing down...

    <font size=-1>[ This Message was edited by: WraithVerge on 2006-03-10 09:34 ]</font>

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