The Igloo

The Igloo (http://www.eskimofriends.com/forum/index.php)
-   Damien Rice (http://www.eskimofriends.com/forum/forumdisplay.php?f=7)
-   -   ~*~Official Poetry Thread~*~ (http://www.eskimofriends.com/forum/showthread.php?t=12603)

Ligi_Bella 12-19-2006 05:13 PM

~*~Official Poetry Thread~*~
 
Seeing as we are admirers of Damien, Im sure alot of us have a part that pours our feelings and wit into writing. Thats whats so amazing about him, you know? Its not just lyrics...Its poetry from his heart and its so genuine and bare, naked for all to see.


Post a poem!

Ligi_Bella 12-19-2006 05:22 PM

:crybaby2:

Closing_Doors 12-19-2006 07:01 PM

You only waited 9 minutes for a response!

Seems more suited to the Everything Else forum anyways (in fact its probably been done so have a look).

Timeé 12-19-2006 07:19 PM

To watch me carve a tree of stone,
To silence witches, ghosts and ghouls,
Silhouettes dance neath starry shores,
The valley interlocks in threes and fours.

Ligi_Bella 12-19-2006 08:20 PM

Quote:

Originally Posted by Closing_Doors
You only waited 9 minutes for a response!

Seems more suited to the Everything Else forum anyways (in fact its probably been done so have a look).

Lol, Im impatient.

DRQuebec 12-19-2006 09:47 PM

Free traduction of a song of mine that is originally written in french so there won't have any rhymes. It sounds pretty ugly cause some words in french sound awful in english, I won't do that again I promise :)

Sunday Night

How beautiful is that, the only light in the room
Comes from the screen that keeps me tied
It looks like the moon making her way
But with poetry in less

I see ourselves reading a book in front of a fireplace
Winter is less rough when you're two to fight it
But I'm alone in front of a air-heater abit too old
that's incapable of keeping me warm

Like you, and him, and her, all week long I repeated to myself
That we feel so good with all our freedom
What's the point of having somebody else in your life
When you're having f***ing good friends

But I realize that finally
I'd need you sitting on my knees right now
It's snowing outside, it looks like the moon is falling apart
I'd go walk in a park but without you, it'd be a blow of sword in the water

So instead I'll go take a beer
and try to forget the week-end is over
Alexis and I are going to take some air,
this air of a sad song we swallow in small mouthfuls

I'm not willing to reach tomorrow
I'm freezing, but it's not blankets I need
Outside, it's winter of Quebec which I'm undergoing
But inside myself it's Siberia

Maybe tomorrow it'll be better but for now
I just want a little bit of you in the dark
I know that love like melancholy gets erased with time
Time that seems to have stopped tonight, like all sunday nights.





Oh my god that was long and useless. This song lost all of her charms :smiley32:

Calum 12-19-2006 09:58 PM

Ok, i'll post an extremely personal one first then another one tomorrow.

This one is laying me out naked so to speak.

?


I couldn’t find my pencil this morning. That little stick of graphite meant a fortune to me, and that I can’t explain. The question mark tattooed to the back of my hand shrieks at me, but then it’s only scribbled on with a bursting biro, and the poison of the pen swills around up to my head, like the convection current of amnesia.
A biro doesn’t quite have the effect on a piece of paper as those particles of graphite you see; with my pencil I know where I stand, and where I come from.
Monotonous isn’t quite the word to describe the past; but my wrist has been locked in muscle memory, circling the page, shaping metaphoric spheres.
When this particular blow to the head came, I knew it was coming, I just didn’t duck.

I was struck, hard across the face as if my eyes had caught witness to things they shouldn’t have seen, and my ears were corroded by forbidden acids.

The fading question mark, through my hourglass I’ve seen. I knew before you did; your cotton eyelids shroud my pencil’s words with ignorance of the highest quality. So “welcome to my ****ed up little mind, where other people know me better than myself”.

The apologies aren’t washing your bull**** off my boots, and they certainly don’t buy me a new pencil. So goodnight my little sobbing star, I’ll see you some time.

Topspin047 12-19-2006 10:22 PM

shouldn't this be in the everything else forum?

oh well, DrQuebec, I really enjoyed yours, i love warm fireplaces in the cold winter...makes me happy.

i wrote this a few months ago, its about the birth of a child, celebrating its first birthday. although i've never experienced it myself.


A Celebration of Firsts
(Happy Birthday To You)

Fire eyes, you always get me going
Here at the blood-red tip of your snout
It's like a holiday in your mouth, galloping
in with seed-gutted pumpkin skins and
leftover wine.

I hide in the corner like a shot glass
waiting to pour, pour, pour my insides out
and let the yolk break and bleed out over
the top of the cake, like frosting.

It's your birthday--fire eyes,
suck the wax from the candles!

What used to be a coating of honey
melon air streaming from your lips,
now strikes through me as papercuts,
as pins and needles.

Your wail-of-a-wolf cry tugs at my ears
harsher than hell in your throat.
You've got a fever in your blood,
poison in your fists, a sickness in your
mind.

Fire eyes, shoot me down.
It's just a party, no need to scream.

But oh the irony!
How I feel for your rock heart
when the flames in your eyes turn
to ash and cusp out of your head like
threaded silk.

I'll become nocturnal,
If you want me to.

You've become the centerpiece--
cake on your face,
To you!

Virgin to age,
flesh to a sundrop,
cactus skin to that of a kitten's purr.

Fire eyes, you always
get me going, going, gone.

Timeé 12-19-2006 11:24 PM

Quote:

Originally Posted by Topspin047
Virgin to age,
flesh to a sundrop,
cactus skin to that of a kitten's purr.

i love it :icon_pray

PenguinBoy 12-20-2006 12:12 AM

Everything else!!!

"I rose this morning, before the sun, so i could watch it do so
I sang it's name in the cold and the darkness reaching for hope
"sunrise, sunshine, sun, shine on me, sun, rise in me."
but the clouds rose before it and shrouded it's ascent
The black stary sky disolved in the grey and the uncoloured day."

robmcgrail 12-20-2006 12:26 AM

We were never as weak
As humans reading history
And we never got sleep
The best cure for our tierd eyes
But watching you lay
Is the best cure for my tierd soul

The chains around your legs
Or more like your mind
The lines youve wrote for me
The lines youve crossed
Watching you paint
Watching you cry.

Windgirl 12-20-2006 12:38 AM

Oh man!!!DRQuebec that was wonderful!!!!!!

alright here's two short ones :-D

don't forget to floss- title

thread the words

could never speak

listen to the silence as it flosses

inbetween my teeth.

Calcium deprived- title

lengthen your spine
for you seemed
a little taller
in the tales
where you make
the skim
crème de la crème.

Topspin047 12-20-2006 03:17 AM

Quote:

Originally Posted by Timeé
i love it :icon_pray

thanks :)

and windgirl, i like calcium deprived...very creative. it's short but sweet.

btw i'm a poetry nut, so don't mind me :p

Windgirl 12-20-2006 03:37 AM

Quote:

Originally Posted by Topspin047
thanks :)

and windgirl, i like calcium deprived...very creative. it's short but sweet.

btw i'm a poetry nut, so don't mind me :p


kee- :-)
Who is your favorite poet? I love Kerouac!!! and who could wrong with the Bard!In Lit, we are wrapping up the romantics John Keat's bright star owned all :-) yay for poetry

Topspin047 12-20-2006 03:42 AM

kerouac's great...although i'm more a fan of his prose.

Sylvia Plath is by far my favorite poet, she just has a way with words.

EE Cummings and bukowski are good too.. :)

Auburn 12-21-2006 07:16 AM

This is a piece I managed to conjure up in the dead of night. Yay? :hello2:

Glass

I have a memory of a boy
Who stared at me with his glass smile.
Warming pebbles with curious hands,
And asking questions all the while.

He’d wander through the endless forests
Following quiet songs of the trees,
Whose gentle roots would later collapse
To make way for the ships of the sea.

Some days he held the court of a king,
Of which the insects held in esteem.
So like a colt he passed these hours,
Chasing love and unreachable dreams.

Oh, how I wish I could warn that youth
Of the storms approaching from afar!
To protect him from falling teardrops
And shower him praises with gold stars!

But time has defeated me today.
Blinded by shards of fate’s potpourri,
These eyes await night’s warming blanket,
And clocks read twelve past eternity.

~CM

Timeé 12-21-2006 06:43 PM

yay.

Calum 12-21-2006 07:05 PM

Redundant Black Beverage


Cardboard for paper and hot liquid on request,
Knots tied in circles of what I’d expect.
Such an innocent brew,
Quite lacking in colour.

Right on cue my urban cockerel exploded in sync,
With my pulsating temple, throbbing in my head.
With my sacred black beverage,
Redundant, I left.

Private secrecy from my personal secretary,
Yearning dark cravings to warm up the gut.
Salary demised,
And the final straw plucked out from my mouth.
But damn that coffee; it doesn’t half stain your teeth.


Timeé 12-21-2006 09:45 PM

did you write this in the office on a coffee break?
yeah it stains your teeth i dont drink it anymore.

freeda 12-22-2006 01:07 AM

melancholy poem
 
as i sit silently
you ask me for my words
what sort of words would you like?
right now, i cannot say that i love you
right now, i cannot tell you any truth
right now, i cannot show you my face
but you still ask for my words
as if they would help you understand me
when all i have are my words that change
like the the cells in our bodies every few days
ask me for my words again
on another day, when i feel my story and wisdom
worthy of sound

Timeé 12-22-2006 01:47 AM

Half At Five Rain
 
Heres a poem i wrote. people who dont write poems give feedback :hello2:

Half At Five Rain

"Startling delight", my stirring love,
A bottle of milk and two speckled doves,
Shrouding the candles pouring dawn into day,
The owl glares tiredly at the wick-smothered pane.

A bleary-eyed monster settles in closet from rain,
The child sleeps on knowing nothing of pain,
Sheeps walk with mist, extinct shephards lie low,
The new lamb bleats on and he will never know.

Where dew is no soft drink and mosses grow from stone,
And hoodlums blare widly screaming "bad to the bone",

The rain stops abrubt and my mind turns blank,
To sleep I floundered and my healthy heart sank.

DRQuebec 12-22-2006 03:35 AM

Volcanoes : this is excellent. i liked it. much. very much. you say things in a way I love.

A2_Blue 12-22-2006 09:11 AM

Siting on the edge of an envelope.
On the brink of a choice:
Not knowing but moving on inspite of ignorance
Or knowing but being trapped in the hoplessness of awareness
Either way, im F!%ked.


(just a quick thought on how im feeling right now)

Calum 12-22-2006 10:42 AM

Quote:

Originally Posted by Timeé
did you write this in the office on a coffee break?
yeah it stains your teeth i dont drink it anymore.

Nope, i don't work in an office; i'm 15. But yeah, i love coffee, so i thought i'd blend it in with redundancy just because i had the "officy feeling". :)

Nine 12-22-2006 08:56 PM

Quote:

Originally Posted by Calum
Ok, i'll post an extremely personal one first then another one tomorrow.

This one is laying me out naked so to speak.

?


I couldn’t find my pencil this morning. That little stick of graphite meant a fortune to me, and that I can’t explain. The question mark tattooed to the back of my hand shrieks at me, but then it’s only scribbled on with a bursting biro, and the poison of the pen swills around up to my head, like the convection current of amnesia.
A biro doesn’t quite have the effect on a piece of paper as those particles of graphite you see; with my pencil I know where I stand, and where I come from.
Monotonous isn’t quite the word to describe the past; but my wrist has been locked in muscle memory, circling the page, shaping metaphoric spheres.
When this particular blow to the head came, I knew it was coming, I just didn’t duck.

I was struck, hard across the face as if my eyes had caught witness to things they shouldn’t have seen, and my ears were corroded by forbidden acids.

The fading question mark, through my hourglass I’ve seen. I knew before you did; your cotton eyelids shroud my pencil’s words with ignorance of the highest quality. So “welcome to my ****ed up little mind, where other people know me better than myself”.

The apologies aren’t washing your bull**** off my boots, and they certainly don’t buy me a new pencil. So goodnight my little sobbing star, I’ll see you some time.

My god that was absolutely fantastic. I loved it. I can't believe you're only 15.
Can you say what it's about? it's cool if you can't.

Calum 12-22-2006 10:24 PM

Thank you my friend. :)

Ok, well i'll try, but it's very complicated.

As basically as i can: A while ago i was in a state of mental confusion/depression about a particular relationship whereby i had been led to believe that something more could develop over a period of about 8 months, and what was worse, she was one of my best friends. Also i had a touch of the old writer's block, so i decided to merge these two situations together and came up with this.

Even after me telling you that, a lot of it probably won't make sense, because well... i didn't make sense at the time and you would need a lot of inside knowledge (such as the "?" tattoed to the back of my hand: i drew one on my right hand every day); i was really confused, and this brings it all out (or is meant to).

Thanks for the interest. :wave:

Nine 12-22-2006 11:55 PM

Quote:

Originally Posted by Calum
Thank you my friend. :)

Ok, well i'll try, but it's very complicated.

As basically as i can: A while ago i was in a state of mental confusion/depression about a particular relationship whereby i had been led to believe that something more could develop over a period of about 8 months, and what was worse, she was one of my best friends. Also i had a touch of the old writer's block, so i decided to merge these two situations together and came up with this.

Even after me telling you that, a lot of it probably won't make sense, because well... i didn't make sense at the time and you would need a lot of inside knowledge (such as the "?" tattoed to the back of my hand: i drew one on my right hand every day); i was really confused, and this brings it all out (or is meant to).

Thanks for the interest. :wave:

well I still think it's excellent even if i don't fully understand it, because I can appreciate it if you know what I mean - and appreciate the personal element of it, that really comes across.
I also sympathise with that situation - I recently was led to believe for some months that something was going to happen, and then it turned out it wasn't. And he was/still is my best friend. Just doesn't know I love him. hey ho. It's such a horrible feeling isn't it - the most gutting thing... When you truly believe something is going to happen and you've just read it all wrong.

thanks for the explanation though! And keep up the writing, you have talent :)
x

maryb21 12-23-2006 12:29 AM

Most of my stuff it´s pretty much in spanish, ah wait...all of it i think... :o
but well, i found something short in english:
Today was a day with tears and fears...
Today was a day of suffering
Today, was an empty day
Today was a day without you.

Please understand i wrote that in 9th grade, back in 1999, i was crazy... :oops: jajajajajaa
:love6: Love you all!! :love6:

Windgirl 12-23-2006 05:28 AM

[quote=Topspin047
Sylvia Plath is by far my favorite poet, she just has a way with words.

QUOTE]

I've read the belljar and loved it, I haven't read much of her straight poetry. :-) but yay poetry!

Calum 12-23-2006 10:44 AM

Quote:

Originally Posted by Nine
well I still think it's excellent even if i don't fully understand it, because I can appreciate it if you know what I mean - and appreciate the personal element of it, that really comes across.
I also sympathise with that situation - I recently was led to believe for some months that something was going to happen, and then it turned out it wasn't. And he was/still is my best friend. Just doesn't know I love him. hey ho. It's such a horrible feeling isn't it - the most gutting thing... When you truly believe something is going to happen and you've just read it all wrong.

thanks for the explanation though! And keep up the writing, you have talent :)
x

Thank you, and glad to hear i'm not the only one! However, i'm sad to say that since i wrote this, they went off with someone else with no warning even when they knew about me, then they got dumped within a few weeks, and since then i've never been able to talk to them properly.

^ Yeah, Sylvia Plath is a very mysterious and skilled poet.


All times are GMT. The time now is 04:17 PM.

Powered by vBulletin® Version 3.7.4
Copyright ©2000 - 2024, Jelsoft Enterprises Ltd.
All content copyright © EskimoFriends.com 2002-today. Special thanks to Damien, Lisa, Tomo, Shane & Vyvienne.