Poetry and Poetic Thoughts

Set up shop in my soul
and fill your quill with the ink of
Visions–these sights that seem
to sink below our perception.
I can see them, but only while
listening to the imagination of the
I need your silent worlds.
I need the Sun that hides away.

And these hungry forces,
devouring Light–
all Light that leads Life!
They soak it up through their
veins, for nothing more than dried
pulp. Birds cry and scatter–
the fear of the cage overwhelms,
almost paralyzes.
And we in our prisons, we
Know such atrocities, we
Know such Truths!

So we aim, steadfast and true,
with warm eyes and cold hands,
to strike fear from the fallen.
So the earth trembles, for it is
the fear. The oceans sink.
Birds sillhouette striking shapes
against the sky.

The golden Sun illuminates every
lie we misplaced before us.

The future unfolds in fits and starts.
The day arrives, soft and bold.
Morning, evening, and all its parts,
And all the stories we’ve ever told.

Things will be better soon, they say.
And the summer descends to fall.
Always the same, never they stay.
Everything is nothing — and all.

Present unending it always brings —
All mixed with bliss and torment,
Burrowing deep inside everything —
A changelessness. A pause. A moment.

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Sitting on a bench in the forest, reading your poem and listening to bird song…

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Out there on the rascal farm
Where daggers do their silent harm
The ghosts of marble mountains crumble.
The jackal prince fights in the rubble.
A deaf man waits and watches, stiff,
While dead men rock against the cliff.

Parachute parades fall down and grasp
The evening’s program that waits to clasp
A sudden shocking of the valley,
And red ships painted in the alley.
We swing and stare with star-pupilled eyes,
The gargoyle face with bright disguise.

The profiled tattered wandering echo
Balances their minds with tick-tock tempo.
And the kings, they whisper of secret battles
While the calm, cool minstrels break out and rattle.
In solitude are the wished for ones:
Dreams, lightning, hand-me-down guns.

And in the dark are eyes like lanterns
Waiting for the blind enchanter.
And polluted promises wisk away
The quiet sunshine of yesterday.

I sit, half-dead, atop a burnt black hill, my lungs filled with soot and fumes from the scorched earth
The sky, dark and swirling,
spirals of razor-dust;
I can no longer see that warm star.
And the corpses below, crawling in random directions, trying to escape their skin–their hands, I know, give the stench of gasoline and phosphorus: it’s the only smell in the air.

Far away
I hear millions of children cry
in regret of a voyage.
Their tears are my mirrors.
The sea they crossed is their own. And the ship: made from Time and cracked, faux wood
is their own.
Though the vessel nevers docks, the port rests at the edge of my reality,
so I am the ship; I am the sea;
I am the children, and they are me.
This wasteland is our own mistake.

Eyes, blind, see the faults of the physical,
the creations of one man–the misconstrued notion of something so Simple.
My visions are distorted
by the scalding of flesh, the cries of concocted pain.
All those around me stare with midnight death in their eyes, and six-foot shrouds at their feet.

My shroud unraveled long ago,
and, now, I see glimpses of Light.

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I felt like you were writing the alternate lyrics for Arise :grin:

Well, at least the verse parts, you need a chorus.

Under a pale grey sky
We shall arise :money_mouth_face:

Hahaha! I haven’t heard that one before, but I have to say, I think I like my words better :metal:

It sounds like the lyrics to a death metal song.

Maybe I was thinking more of Beneath The Remains

It’s just not my cup of tea lol. I do like metal though, I guess just not death metal… But yeah man, I can now see those as death metal lyrics. Now I won’t be able to un-see that :laughing:

Good, that’s all I wanted to accomplish today. :partying_face:

Now, let’s go burn down a theater with a bunch of people in it. :smiling_imp:

Because there’s only one way to exit…

Yes! Can’t let dreams be just dreams :smiling_imp:

Upon the riverbank, that gentle stream,
The sunlight weaves through trees, its shadows fall
On shimmering songbirds black and green.
And through this shifting art, past nature’s sprawl
Sleep tiptoes to my form laid on the grass.
I’m carried off to mercurial heights,
Where the angels and the prophets, familiar pass
In overwhelming beams of pure white light.
When after some unsteady time, I wake,
The tree limbs, that climbing high to heaven—
That unwavering ascent, that path to take—
Point somewhere I know but have never been:
Where the setting sun and my dreams both dwell,
Casting a dizzy, neverending spell.

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Fall right down
And skin your mind
When you pluck your strings
And eat the blind
She can dance real soft
For the king to see
All of this because of me

Dark deep dog bites
Inside their heads
Those who don’t stare
With eyes like lead
They all get in line
Much comes through last
And wipes away the cobwebs past

The rain comes down
The fire burns blue
The scribbles of silence
Drip drip like dew
I can’t see my mind no more
She said
Maybe I’ll just fall down dead.


She beckons for my soul to come,
And I light her up like a loaded gun.
The hours make days like carnival rides,
Each of us goin’ round in our own disguise.
We roll down hills
To reach our sins
And gobble them up
To feel whole again.



When errant hair met errant hands,
Her prying eyes did not understand.

Dirt under nails and deep within
Scratched the surface of pristine skin.

For a moment her neck exposed with ache.
For a moment her tender breath he did take.

A fever swollen. Swelling. Hard.
A heart captured. Taken. Scarred.

Just a nursery rhyme.
…It’s probably best I don’t have kids…

Jack and Jill had a battle of wills,
about which of them was stronger;
Jill threw Jack down and swallowed his crown,
so Jack debated the issue no longer.

Up Jill got, after devouring his cock,
to revel in her achievement;
But Jack gripped her neck, leaving her a complete wreck,
causing Jill’s lips to curl in agreement.

Will have to work on digging out some of my old smut.



:blush: :smirk: :smirk:

I have some more I can dig up that I have a feeling you might… ah… enjoy.
Will have to muster up the courage to post it though.

I took for my morning autumn walk
A friend with whom I could not talk.
But I enjoyed the dazzling show
Of the gold-gowned trees all in a row.

And I thought I had my thoughts within
And all the feelings of who I’d been —
But just ahead — a few more paces —
I saw forgotten childhood faces.

With no more company around,
Save those that my memory had found,
I lingered in the morning air
And found myself without a care.

I doubled back, ignored those flaws,
Blown like the leaves across her paws.
She lightly steps just ahead of me,
As golden as the soon-bare tree.