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Given that I've been posting more and more poetry up to this forum, I thought it only sensible to congregate them all in one area. I thought it would be easier for myself, and all readers to access.

Rules:
1. Only my poetry in this thread please. That's the title anyways. If you'd like me to look at something, feel free to PM me, and I'll try and get back to you. Comments are welcome of course!
2. Comments and Critiques are welcomed, and searched for. I know I've got lots to improve on - but flames will be stomped on, so if you think it's bad, tell me why - not that you just dislike it.
3. Lets keep spam and swearing to a minimum, ok?

Index:

Page 1
1. Dramatis Personae
2. Dolls
3. Gone Away
4. Mob Grammar
5. Pencil
6. Matchstick Vandals
7. Narcissism
8. Life Outline

Page 2
9. Ode to a Snarking Poet
10. Ode to a Snarky Reviewer
11. Puzzle Pieces
12. Religion
13. The Traitor
14. Wisdom For A New Age
15. Dress Up
16. Unknown
17. A Child's Garden of...

Page 3
18. Rival
19. Sleeping Beauty

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Dramatis Personae

In the line, Joker waits
A short laugh - garbled perhaps
And all look up
That's his specialty
But it won't change anything.

In the line, Cutter waits
Knife always sawing - she grunts
And all ignore
She wants out of line
But blades can't cut this.

In the line, Leader waits
Demanding words - loudly spoken
And all listen
But his words are empty
The line won't move for him.

In the line, Dreamer waits
Misty eyes stare - but don't see
And all snicker
Visions aren't reality
And won't bend the line.

In the line, Lover waits
Suggestive comments - wicked eyes
And all stare
Sex only works on people
And is useless here.

In the line, Scholar waits
Searching for truth - book open
And all sigh
This truth is not in words
It cares little for perfection.

In the line, All wait
Unaffected by others - so foolish
And I sigh
Names don't exist here
We condemn each other.


I've been told spicing this up with some shmexy metaphor would be nice, but the format of the poem is so strongly entrenched in the concept I had for it, I don't know how to do so. I'll keep trying.

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Dolls

There's a fate waiting for you boy.
Little plaything.
But then, you knew that didn't you?
All children leave behind their dolls eventually
When they grow up.
Leave them, becoming dusty, half falling over.
Leave them, with an eye falling out.
Blind little dolls, waiting on the bed.
Careless of their fate.
I've collected all the eyes that they left behind.
Sapphire, caramel, jade
I always did like the way those jade eyes glared up at me
From my tabletop.
That's where I build my pretty dolls
And give them glass marble sight
Torn from my old ones
My favorite eyes were the amethyst -
They're more rare, you see.
My most prized possessions.
The jade eyes always hide my lovely violet ones.
And so I've decided to burn them.
Yes, I see you glaring at me now.
You and your jaded eyes.
But you've no cause.
After all, you always knew
That children leave behind their dolls
Eventually.

I love this thing - the whole piece is a freakin' metaphor - mostly based on the POV. Go ahead...try and guess it. It changes the meaning of the poem.

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Gone Away

His outlook today will be boring, they said
For he is most certainly, obviously dead.
His skin's sickly pale, his tongue dried and stiff
And just smell that stench - did you get a whiff?
His fingers are claw-like, the tendons pulled tight
His mouth gaping maw-like, the teeth are not white
But mostly his forecast is stagnant I dread,
For his brain has quietly shriveled and fled.


I like to call this... 'Doctor Seuss on Crack with a Knife'. It's a piece of rather morbid humor, much the way the rhyme 'Ring Around the Rosies' is.

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Mob Grammar

Conformer! they cry
We're all individuals -
With a capital 'I'
Society's b***h scoffs
Where's the proof?
We try! said they
"it's the thought that counts -
And we all think so."
The Little Engine
thinks he can too
But Yoda said trying's
for idiots
I tend to agree -
And capItalIze all my I's now.

Blah. Not especially poetic, but I keep it around for amusement factor - and for the image of Yoda riding the Little Engine that Could. Yeah...I have a weird mind. xd

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Pencil

Pencil falls to paper, prepared
And words pile out
In suggestive spidery lines
Thin and purposeful
They're a little crooked.

Eraser falls to paper, pink
And words scatter
In dirty rubber shavings
Of a nasty rusted color
An imprint remains

Pencil falls to 'paper'
And form thoughts
In strong motions
From my hand
On old marked paper

This poem was used in Pi's 'self-mutilation' challenge.
http://www.gaiaonline.com/forum/viewtopic.php?t=5373157&highlight=

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Matchstick Vandals

Light a match in the house
Careful doesn't matter.
Poured Gasoline smells good
A new layer on sour air.
Dried up floorboards are fun
And Water's for sissies.
What - you don't like burning?
I thought flames were pretty
And melting skin is cool.
That hole punched in the sky,
Isn't any better.
And raped pines staggering,
Aren't amusing to watch.
But Mushrooms for breakfast
Are a delicious meal -
Only they eat humans.
[smoke has big teeth you know]
So send some to the neighbors
Who pre-paid you with Pearls.
Vandalize the General store -
Who needs that boring stuff?
We'll go steal a matchbook
For these dynamite candles.
And share them - you and I.

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Narcissism

Eyes proudly petting
glassed reflections,
With puckered lips that stink
of cyanide, sickly sweet tasting.
Tongue flickering -
[the serpent, missing his,
is complaining of cattish thievery]
Forked rosy streamers, many layered steel
As though a tessen parting teeth

She's stolen a kubikiri;
Uses it to lathe the throats
Of Paris, Romeo, and Lancelot -
Among others [All unwitting],
with scattered minds upon her sleeve.
They fall, peach fuzz chins upon
Crooked finger [so bidden] of need.

Grace sinks into watchful curtsy -
See the layers of her skirt?
It's all gold silken puddles, and
White ash'd lace interspersed
With peeks of skin peeled back
Revealing black and green stripes
[of a rotting sort] on honeyed sweet canes.

She birthed the plastic smiles [plastic faces]
But remained a wanton figure.
Seduced the outcast with gray promises
Molded in Her image -
Or His, when she plucked Adam's bone
Stealing the lush garden for Her bower.

Vive la Belle.

Original Gaian

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This will be some hot work.

*has removed his shirt to better look sexy while getting down to business*

3nodding

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Dakk
This will be some hot work.

*has removed his shirt to better look sexy while getting down to business*

3nodding


*Play's strip club music in the background* Go Dakk! Thanks for the view. heart

Original Gaian

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GhostWhisper
Gone Away

His outlook today will be boring, they said
For he is most certainly, obviously dead.
His skin's sickly pale, his tongue dried and stiff
And just smell that stench - did you get a whiff?
His fingers are claw-like, the tendons pulled tight
His mouth gaping maw-like, the teeth are not white
But mostly his forecast is stagnant I dread,
For his brain has quietly shriveled and fled.


This is quite a fine example of rhyme, and the only thing I'm fit to critique. Not only that, there's nothing to critique. Excellent.

I hereby award you with Dakk's Temporary S-Rank Poet License!
You may now, for a limited time only, write angsty suicide poetry.

domokun

(Edit: I fixed my fine examplel of spelling. xd )

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Dakk
GhostWhisper
Gone Away

His outlook today will be boring, they said
For he is most certainly, obviously dead.
His skin's sickly pale, his tongue dried and stiff
And just smell that stench - did you get a whiff?
His fingers are claw-like, the tendons pulled tight
His mouth gaping maw-like, the teeth are not white
But mostly his forecast is stagnant I dread,
For his brain has quietly shriveled and fled.


This is quite a fine examplel of rhyme, and the only thing I'm fit to critique. Not only that, there's nothing to critique. Excellent.

I hereby award you with Dakk's Temporary S-Rank Poet License!
You may now, for a limited time only, write angsty suicide poetry.

domokun


*Frames license and hangs it on wall* I'll have to see if I can make use of that. xd Or maybe not... *dies at overdose of angsty suicide poetry in forum*

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Life Outline

Tomorrow, I'll sketch Numbers
Variables recurring in Lead
Confining a fluid Universe
To pliable graphite Cages
I'll search for God
In penciled Unknown

Today, I sketch Faces
Brushed out in Monochromes
My two-dimensional Soul
With vacant Desires
I search for Ideals
In paper Motion

Yesterday, I sketched Letters
Pulled from my Dreams
Held in bondage by Reality
An intolerant Mistress
I searched for Purpose
In inked Emotions

At Birth, I sketched Myself
Stolen from Nothing
A child of baseless Contradiction
Leaving behind my Answers
Drawing this Existence
In vacant Creation


Errr...I'm not sure how this one turned out. I like the topic, and the format...but it feels kind of odd. Problem is - I don't know what it is, or how to change it without ruining the format.

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GhostWhisper
Untitled for now

Tomorrow, I'll sketch Numbers
Variables recurring in Lead Good start. (May want to fix around since modern pencils don't use lead anymore... but that's a nitpicky political correctness thing, you don't have to bother if you don't want to)
Confining a fluid World World is too broad. If you're going for hyperbole, might I recommend universe?
To pliable graphite Cages
I'll search for God
In penciled Unknown Loved this line.

Today, I sketch Faces
Brushed out in Shadows
My two-dimensional Soul Shadows and Soul struck me as cliche.
With vacant Desires
I search for Life Search for Life? Er... that's cliche too. sweatdrop
In paper Motion

Yesterday, I sketched Letters
Pulled from my Dreams
Held in bondage by Veracity Higher vocab stuck out saliently among the abstractions. Might want to tone this down or bump the others up a notch.
An intolerant Mistress
I searched for Purpose
In inked Emotions Don't want to be incongruous; apparently the poem is telling of pencil art from previous context. Yeah this is also nitpicky, but oh well. whee

At Birth, I sketched Myself
Stolen from Nothing
A child of baseless Contradiction
Leaving behind my Answers Last two lines seemed generic, but they're still okay.
Hoping to find Existence
In vacant Creation This was a very good ending.


Errr...I'm not sure how this one turned out. I like the topic, and the format...but it feels kind of odd. Problem is - I don't know what it is, or how to change it without ruining the format.


As a general suggestion, I recommend doing something to the effect of tying your capitalized words into some sort of sentence of phrase, so that they don't remain incongruous to each other. Otherwise, the capitals seem overkill to me. Also, many of the capitalized words were broad, ambiguous, and *gasp* cliche. You should expand on them, or maybe personify them. (If that's what you're doing already, then I must be a horrible reader. xd ) Those are my main quibblings, but it's still pretty good. 3nodding (Loved the theme by the way heart )

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Thank you for the critique! It really helped! heart
I changed most of the things you commented on - except the word Soul. I really couldn't find another word that sounded right and fit the concept the way I wanted.
As for personification - I'll keep that in mind. Changing words to concepts would be really hard to do without killing my format I think, so if I do, my poem will probably be largely re-written. : whee
Gaia Forums » MISC Forums » Forum & Sticky Archive » Original Poetry/Lyrics

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