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Poetry Thread

Discussion on the arts of the world and all things literature.
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Onyx

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Poetry Thread

PostSun Mar 17, 2013 8:05 pm

I loved reading the poetry that was posted on the old VC boards so I'm resurrecting this thread. Post your own original works, poems from authors that you love, Spoken word videos and anything else that speaks to you. Song lyrics are ok as long as they are your own original works. I'll start but feel free to post any creative writings here.
Darkness can not drive out darkness, only light can do that. Hate can not drive out hate, only LOVE can do that!~ Martin Luther King Jr
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Re: Poetry Thread

PostSun Mar 17, 2013 8:07 pm

Silence By: Onyx




She was murdered by silence peaking through the breeze.

Still sitting tightly on her lips as she lies breathless.

To many questions of what and why.

Did she really need to die?

She coasted through life and did as she was told.

Went to school, got married and had a child to mold.

There was something on the edge of her essence. It tugged on her heart. "

Be a good little girl" She thought, as her feelings tore her apart.



Everyday was the same, nothing striking, not amused.

Her heart searched for excitement but her mind made her refuse.

Stay in Line.

Keep on course.

Stuff it down.

Even by force!

Wake up, shower, put on clothes,

Brush teeth and hair, powder your nose.

Keep it clean, nothing suspicious.

Do what they say, forget your wishes.

Make your children do the same.

Make them a number, not a name.

She always had a scream inside.

Too scared to loose it

so there it hides.

"Be amazing," It screams!

"Be creative," it sings.

But in order to do anything,

she would face, ridicule, hatred and shame.

Forsaking her parents and their name.

So she walks in silence and fear

that caresses her mind and holds her near.

Fear of thoughts provoking,

it feeds on her and she starts choking.

On everything she wanted in life.

To be an amazing mother and wife.

But to also be herself

laid trapped inside herself.

She let the world tell her what to do

instead of doing as she would choose.

It cut though her like a knife

and ultimately took her life.

Not dead in definition of death, she still walks and talks and breathes.

But Her silence is just too great

She definitely looks dead to me!
Darkness can not drive out darkness, only light can do that. Hate can not drive out hate, only LOVE can do that!~ Martin Luther King Jr
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Re: Poetry Thread

PostTue Mar 19, 2013 9:29 pm

10 Honest Thoughts on Being Loved by a Skinny Boy
Rachel Wiley

1.
I say, "I am fat."
He says, "No, you are beautiful."
I wonder why I cannot be both.
He kisses me
hard.

2.
My college theater professor once told me
that despite my talent,
I would never play Kate to any man's Petruchio.
We put on shows that involves
flying children
and singing animals
but apparently no one
has enough willing suspension of disbelief
to buy anyone loving a fat girl.

3.
On the mornings I do not feel pretty,
while he is still asleep,
I sit on the floor and check the pockets of his skinny jeans
for motive, for a punchline, for other girls’ phone numbers.

4.
When we hold hands in public,
I wonder if he notices the stares —
like he is handling a parade balloon down a crowded sidewalk;
I wonder if he notices my hands are made of rope.

5.
Dear Cosmo: fuck you.
I will not take your sex tips
on how to please a man
that you do not think my body will ever be worthy of.

6.
He tells me he loves me with the lights on.

7.
I can cup his hip bone in the palm of my hand,
feel his ribs without pressing very hard at all.
Sip wine from his collarbone.
He doesn't believe me when I tell him he is beautiful.
Sometimes I fear the day he does is the day he leaves.

8.
The cute hipster girl at the coffee shop
assumes we are just friends
and flirts across the counter.
I spend the next two weeks
replacing myself with her
in all of our photographs.
When I finally admit this
we spend the night taking new photos.
He will not let me delete a single one.

9.
The phrase “big girls need love too” can go die in a fire.
Fucking me does not require an asterisk.
Loving me is not a fetish.
Finding me beautiful is not a novelty.
I am not a novelty.

10.
I say, "I am fat."
He says, "no. You -- you are so much more"
and kisses me
hard.
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Re: Poetry Thread

PostTue Mar 19, 2013 9:59 pm

The First Time I Met His Mother
Megan Falley


The first time I met his mother
Christmas Eve.

I offered to help carve the dinner beast
which was how my meatless body knew I really loved him.
She didn't need my help.
The adults would fix me a cocktail in the back room.

I met the usual characters--
an aunt who cleaned up the spill of her giggle
with a paw over her lipsticked mouth,
a cousin who smelled like a bar fight,
his wedding ring tarnished as an ash tray.

I told his uncle that I liked his tie and I did.
It had real Christmas lights sewn into it,
a ruby one for Rudolph's nose.
He suggested that if I was so fond of that tie,
we could pretend it was mistletoe.
His tarantula hands creeping towards my knee.

"Oh, he's harmless!" his mother explained away.
"Just Uncle Lenny. A joke--
in our family, we can take a joke" she warned.

Stringing of garland of excuses for him
being only a man.

From then on, she looked at me like a gift
that should have come with a receipt,
like her son would exchange me for another,
perhaps a doll with a smaller mouth,
soft legs that can't stand up for themselves,
a string in its back she could pull
and unleash a fit of mechanical laughs.
It was funny, a joke, harmless.

The last time I met his mother
Valentine's Day.

She stood besides her son in the courtroom, proud
like his date to an award ceremony
as I waited for the judge to award 500 feet
between his cackle and my ear,
his groin and my "no."
His many sharp edges
and my body's soft and scared as a dying lamb.

It was the first Valentine I had ever given myself.

His mother sneered like I was the bitch
walking on her hind legs,
an amusing stunt of a
false sense of spine.
A little girl
making monsters out of mole hills.

But she never needed my help,
she carved that beast herself.
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Cheetah

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Re: Poetry Thread

PostWed Mar 20, 2013 8:32 am

I'll always love this quote/poem (however you view it):

"Knowledge is priceless and being broke is the equivalence of ignorance. A nation’s generation so caught up in affiliation. As I ridicule this fabricated truth among the youth that success is only found on a court or in a booth. What good are the eyes if your mind is blind? What good is the message if you ignore the signs?" - Freddy E.
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Re: Poetry Thread

PostThu Mar 21, 2013 5:29 am

Cheetah wrote:I'll always love this quote/poem (however you view it):

"Knowledge is priceless and being broke is the equivalence of ignorance. A nation’s generation so caught up in affiliation. As I ridicule this fabricated truth among the youth that success is only found on a court or in a booth. What good are the eyes if your mind is blind? What good is the message if you ignore the signs?" - Freddy E.


I actually really like that. :thumbup:
Darkness can not drive out darkness, only light can do that. Hate can not drive out hate, only LOVE can do that!~ Martin Luther King Jr
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Re: Poetry Thread

PostThu Mar 21, 2013 5:31 am

REPOST FROM THE OLD VC THREAD!


The world Through Blinded Eyes By: Onyx


Walking through a world blindfolded.

Shoulders slumped

Ego Pumped.

Laughing at others shortcomings

Thumbing

my nose up at people who weren't as good as me.

Arrogance blinding

Constantly trying

to be a better person in everyone else's eyes.

Despised

yet liked out of fear of repercussions.

Discussions

about who's hair looks better

what clothes I'd beg for.

Which car I'd drive,

Lies

told to me through blinded eyes.

Mine!

Not yours!

Just par for the course.

Filthy and egotistical

Pissing

on what is sensible.

I walk through the world blinded at night.

Little devil on the left and an angel on the right.

I look left but find no rest.

I look right and try to fight.

I'm stuck on an obscurely painted canvass.

Vanished

From reality.

It's easy to follow when you can not see.

I keep struggling

On what's inside of me.

Waiting patiently for that awakening.



But then lightening from the sky

Struck my head

I surely died.

But surprise

I'm still alive

and removed the veil from blinded eyes.

Instead of comfort, I see disdain

Instead of pleasure, I feel the pain.

People sick and dying by doctor's hands.

Being murdered

by a man.

Next to a stand.... and microphone.

We call it hell

He calls it home.

I look around to see

other people following blindly.

I scream

and run through the crowd.

but no one seems to hear me now.

I hate my eyes.

I scream at the lies

to open their eyes... and just look.

There is more to life than consume and buy.

More to death than just to die.

Hear me plead

with bleeding hands.

Being crushed by the same man....

Who is supposed to protect us.

Respect us.

And serve.

he has the nerve

to be absurd.



I broke free from my trance only to see a few that was there with me.

The rest walk silently.

Feeding definite death to their minds.

That's all behind.... me now I'm out.



I can't go back so....



I'll bring more out.



You can remain a zombie to the lies

Or you can wake up and organize.

The fight has begun no time for sleep.

But when I do, let sleep be deep.



For the lightening was the truth.

And with it, I walk with proof

that this world is more than seen

We have to see what's underneath.



But we can only realize

when we rip the veil from our own eyes.



Don't continue through this world confusing truth with lies.
Darkness can not drive out darkness, only light can do that. Hate can not drive out hate, only LOVE can do that!~ Martin Luther King Jr
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Wakey

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Re: Poetry Thread

PostThu Mar 28, 2013 2:03 pm

phpBB [video]
"Love the whole world as a mother loves her only child." - Buddha.

Image
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Re: Poetry Thread

PostFri Mar 29, 2013 3:19 am

Get ready folks.
Bucked naked running through the springs , bucked naked having a great fling.
Bucked naked all day long. lol no i kid will post something real just had to go random .
What is the point of winning,Only to lose are humanity in the end?
Created to give life but we destroy the worth of others preffering to be alone.
In this sadistic solitude proud to sit atop the throne crafted of human bone.
An idealistic fool, because i desire to help humnas swim to the shore of their ego created drowning pool.
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Re: Poetry Thread

PostFri Mar 29, 2013 4:39 am

This was written by me 13 years ago...

"2AM and 6 Cigarettes"

by Realistic/Inhumanme

I kind of want to climb inside you. Just for tonight, for a safe place to hide. Because right now, I'm so lost in your eyes, as I fall deeper into my daze.

And with you I feel okay.

Leaving it all. Losing myself.

Because myself is all I have to lose now.

And as I smoke my cigarette, and burn away what's left of me, I want to be in another place completely.

Just to feel. It�s all I need.

Just say you're empty like me.
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