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» Hatrack River Forum » Active Forums » Books, Films, Food and Culture » Orginal Potry (Page 16)

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Author Topic: Orginal Potry
Teshi
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quote:
Your poems are love poems, mainly to other poems.
There are quite a few poems-to-poems, though.
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Bob_Scopatz
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We had an assignment for our birthing class. Write a poem to the placenta.

It takes a villus

The placenta is a special place
A disk-like installation
It means “flat cake”
It can’t be faked
Except in Science Fiction.

Derived from not-so special cells
Early in development
It builds a sack
Prevents attack
And handles all procurement.

The chorionic villi too
Have their special purpose
They flesh us out,
And flush us out
Thank God they’re semi-porous!

Bathed in drops of mother’s blood
The villi set the rules
For passing gas
Increasing mass
And grabbing molecules.

Up and down umbilicus
All this stuff is flowing
The baby grows
And never knows
How this organ keeps it going

Lasting all through 9 long months
The placenta stays the course
A final push
It all goes squoosh
And no-one shows remorse.

Come let us sing placental praise
For despite the many ouches,
Without it we’d be laying eggs
Or growing kids in pouches!

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Teshi
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I like the whole poem, but I love the last two lines.
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Bob_Scopatz
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Thanks!
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sarfa
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hmm, I think my poem got buried on the last page, so I'm going to repost it. Anyway, here it is again, brand spanking new (first new one in a few years in fact). As always, your criticism is welcome.



Waiting

Pinky, ring, middle, fore

Fingers drum erratic
beats on the sofa’s side
while the digital clock
traps weary, darting eyes.

Pinky, ring, middle, fore

Ambulances driving
through my brain give sick hope;
rebutted by growling
knots lodged within my guts.

Pinky, ring, middle, fore

My head whips round to face
the telephone, willing
it to life, but it sits
silent and accusing.

Pinky, ring, middle, fore

My legs begin to shake,
so I leap to my feet
to continue my march
round the coffee table.
The concrete foundation
lies exposed in patches,
staring up through the worn
carpet. I curse the man
on the television
screen for laughing at me.
I begin to quicken
my pace, while my hands tug
at my hair. The muscles
in my legs ache. Sweat beads
on my brow. I collapse…

back onto the sofa
to resume my solo
upon it’s threadbare side,
which echoes through til dawn.

Pinky, ring, middle, fore

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cmc
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upon the changing season of my life i find myself proud.

two years time plus earnest hard work
yield progress i myself stand in awe of
from a confused girl to a confident woman
i feel a completeness i didn't realize i was missing

taking time for myself i learned who myself was and
what it took to learn that was only hard till i'd started.
i have become my own best friend, confidant and supporter...
a far cry from the previous role of worst enemy

i have become that much closer to being the person
i'd like to have people think i am
and realized that i had become an ocean of
doubt and negativity whose tides have gladly changed

now set on this path i intend to move only forward
while using the past as a reminder of how far i've come
remembering past mistakes just long enough to learn from
and celebrating success with an eye always toward the future...

upon the changing season of my life i find myself proud.

~cmc

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sarfa
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Bob, that is the greatest poem I've ever read about a placenta. That praise should be in no way lessened by the fact that it is the only poem I've ever read about to a placenta. Between the rhyme scheme and the playful irreverance, you managed to make a placenta seem "cute" (which is no small feat).
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foundling
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sarfa, your poem was, as usual, beautiful. It made me nervous.

cmc, I loved your poem. It reminded me of very specific moments in my own life.

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T_Smith
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I saw her standing, in the shadows of the night
With golden blonde hair and blue smile
She had a low cut corset, as sure as you can bet
I quickly glazed o’er her profile

She’s my warcraft girl (world of warcraft girl!)
I’m her warcraft guy (world of warcraft girl!)
Never had one before! (a world of warcraft girl!)
Hope she don’t ask why (world of warcraft girl!)
She’s my warcraft girl, my warcraft girl.

I asked for her heart, in exchange for my shield
She told me to throw in my sword
I agreed to the trade, and we went on a raid
I was hers when she let out a roar

She’s my warcraft girl (world of warcraft girl!)
I’m her warcraft guy (world of warcraft girl!)
Never had one before! (a world of warcraft girl!)
Hope she don’t ask why (world of warcraft girl!)
She’s my warcraft girl, my warcraft girl.

Now I am her man, ‘though she leads the clan
Least thats what I let her think
I still run the show, when I battle our foe
It’s my call that we all wear pink

She’s my warcraft girl (world of warcraft girl!)
I’m her warcraft guy (world of warcraft girl!)
Never had one before! (a world of warcraft girl!)
Hope she don’t ask why (world of warcraft girl!)
She’s my warcraft girl, my warcraft girl.

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Teshi
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(EDIT: To people when things don't go the way you wish they might.)

Don't let it get you down.
The stars are right;
The night is young.

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Pelegius
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Romantic Notions of my Youth
“No finiràia il dizùn dal timp?”
“Will time's hunger never die?”
— Pier Paolo Pasolini, from “I dis robàs”

Here dwells Christ the Tiger,
sleeping in the cave-corner cages,
rusted columbaria of our collective mind.

Like Dervishes, we turned in tightening gyre,
inward-eyed scholars, ink fingered, truth’s pages,
fire-eyed with steel sword to cut the serpent tongues that lied.

My friends, we set cross-legged neath Bodhi trees,
reading mystic, Gnostic, Sufist scrolls, seeking truths in some distant past,
Boethius, Benedict, ben Eliezer: we could not think (what to know?); we tried to feel.

We, Apollonian figures on Athenian frieze
studied our mosaics and El Greco— iconographer, iconoclast
—in great cities of stalled subways, crumbling castles and falling minarets, all unreal.

Monks, with bells and gongs, and trees bore witness to the passing time.
Time stood still, and yet, in darkness, slid like sleds on the Archduke’s hill
the dikes shattered, the Ianiculum taken, the docks lie beneath the Zuider Zee.

Here stand I, old man, blind seer, poet with strainéd rhyme
and labyrinthine reason, laid bare in limitations, yet more strainéd still,
look back with false remembrances, to the flowered crags of Arcadia, when I knew me.

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JimmyCooper
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Hey I've been a lurker here for a couple years. I really like poetry so here it goes.

Cereal


You crunched my Raisin Bran, dashed away my Corn Flakes.

You drove me Fruit Loops.

I snapped, crackled, and popped my Rice Crispies and you still didn’t hear me in the darkness.

My Corn Puffs became cold and soggy waiting for you.

I poured away every last one of my Cocoa Puffs.

You still don’t want me.
You still don’t need me.
You will never love me.

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Pelegius
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Hmm, Prevert wrote a poem about Breakfest that reminds me of yours:


quote:
Il a mis le café
Dans la tasse
Il a mis le lait
Dans la tasse de café
Il a mis le sucre
Dans le café au lait
Avec la petite cuiller
Il a tourné
Il a bu le café au lait
Et il a reposé la tasse
Sans me parler
Il a allumé
Une cigarette
Il a fait des ronds
Avec la fumée
Il a mis les cendres
Dans le cendrier
Sans me parler
Sans me regarder
Il s'est levé
Il a mis
Son chapeau sur sa tête
Il a mis
Son manteau de pluie
Parce qu'il pleuvait
Et il est parti
Sous la pluie
Sans une parole
Sans me regarder
Et moi j'ai pris
Ma tête dans ma main
Et j'ai pleuré.

quote:
Breakfast

He poured the coffee
Into the cup
He put the milk
Into the cup of coffee
He put the sugar
Into the coffee with milk
With a small spoon
He churned
He drank the coffee
And he put down the cup
Without any word to me
He emptied the coffee with milk
And he put down the cup
Without any word to me
He lighted
One cigarette
He made circles
With the smoke
He shook off the ash
Into the ashtray
Without any word to me
Without any look at me
He got up
He put on
A hat on his head
He put on
A raincoat
Because it was raining
And he left
Into the rain
Without any word to me
Without any look at me
And I buried
My face in my hands
And I cried


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cmc
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I Still Believe in Forever

I've just remembered that forever is for me... Not you and me.
At least not you and me together.

How many years have passed since I lay
My blue eyes on your face?
Since I last saw those Sunflowered eyes? A Lot.

How much have I changed since
The last time I let your influence
Influence me? A Lot.

I've grown up and discovered Myself
In a way I really have to give you some credit for.
So thanks. A Lot.

For breaking my heart and my spirit.
Guess I needed it to realize my Potential,
But I've still got more. A Lot.

Won't ever forget. Still love you. Glad I realized that
when you're not with me I love you more. A Lot.

I Still Believe in Forever

~cmc

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Avatar300
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Here the tao of now:
Lose yourself in the present,
Not in yet-to-comes
Nor in might-have-beens.
Treasure this time now, for all
Moments are fleeting.

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Rotar Mode
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quote:
Originally posted by Avatar300:
Here the tao of now:
Lose yourself in the present,
Not in yet-to-comes
Nor in might-have-beens.
Treasure this time now, for all
Moments are fleeting.

Here's to the Te of today:
Let life come, hold it tightly
Push your death as far away
To be born again every day
Live your life for now, let
Tomorrow never come.

I'm sorry to piggyback off your poem. Let it be said that yours inspired mine, a spur-of-the-moment type of thing.

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KarlEd
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For Christopher

My life would be a desert, save
For fountains shared with you.
My spirit, parched and caked with dust,
Seeks out your morning dew.

I then, at parting, thirst again
Until I see your lights
Marking oasis waters in
My lonely desert nights.

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erosomniac
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I really liked that, Karl.

The meter and word choice make it a pleasure to read aloud.

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KarlEd
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Thanks. [Smile] I gave that to Chris on our first Valentine's day together.
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cmc
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unexpected

jeweled eyes captivate my mind
as i recall soft moments
captured in your arms.

thinking back with a sleepy mind
to moments best spent with
you right along with me.

how did you sneak out of nowhere
and somehow knock me off my feet?
it still surprises me

how you eased your way into my life so
subtly and now it’s difficult to even
imagine a finish without you.

butterflies multiply in my belly
as i remember your touch…
legs weak, heart flitting.

jeweled eyes, strong hands, warm heart
captivating my mind first with
my heart soon to follow…

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cmc
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Pieces

I find myself paused.

Something happened and I let you in.
There's this thing that happens sometimes when I kiss you
that makes me have to breathe in and then the rational
part of my brain and my heart start yelling.

So I stop.

But not before a little piece of whatever it is that you are
makes its way into whatever it is that I am.

My rational self screaming
because even my heart knows
it's probably going to wind up broken
in those places I breathed deep and welcomed you into.

I still wouldn't trade it.
Sometimes heartache is worth it.
The beauty's in the journey not the destination.
Just enjoy the ride.

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Epictetus
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The scent of a ship seeking harbor,
a shallow field of Sea-World strollers,
a broken pearl necklace in the blackberry sky,

Kites dissolve in the napalm sky,
a jeweled mist sifting through the shadows,
the sight of thunder over a shallow grave,

Flying leaves in the dancing wind,
black hands moving like crow wings,
hot tears like liquid fire.

Flying leaves seeking harbor
jeweled thunder, broken grave
napalm tears like the dancing wind

Sifting scent moving like shadow
in blackberry strollers hot with mist
the sky dissolves under fire

A ship moving with hot tears
sifts through the dissolving shadows.
Fire pearls in Sea-World’s graves
breaks the crow, flying above the napalm thunder.

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TomDavidson
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*bump*
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Tatiana
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Good bump there, Tom. This thread must never die. [Smile]
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Nethy
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this is a poem I wrote for my dad on Father's Day:

My father can make few things in the kitchen
the whirl of hard counters and ripe fruit sensory overload
to his engineer's mind
but on Sunday's when my mother has
fallen fast and soundless into bed
he strides through
Napoleon in a white shirt and tie
first the bread, thick and brown, lathered with sweet cream butter
The cheese now
sliced by sword and his determined shaky hand
the smell of the dirty griddle rises through the house,
last weeks' sandwiches now burnt on
he slaps his babies down, spanking the griddle for some misdeed
it sing sizzles into the afternoon air
and calls us in.
We have never heard of Waterloo.

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KarlEd
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I like that one, Nethy. Good job.
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Destineer
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Here's something I wrote today.

In Five Years

Half-lit trees by the chapel
shake at their leisure, knowing they have centuries left.
The music is all right but I still wonder
when was this ever enough to please me?

I imagine your thoughts in parallel: What other world
was Cape Cod, where one of my fingers
on your arm was enough?
You chewed a curl of hair then
and I was proud
in a way more private than sex. Thought of leaving
a different taste in your mouth. Will I ever?

Never ever, for all I know.

But despite all I know
I mean to show you this someday in five years
before tumbling on top of you,
my five-year-old words touching you like one finger did.

[ July 08, 2007, 08:22 PM: Message edited by: Destineer ]

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cmc
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i sit betrayed
the force of that phrase hitting me like
ten thousand bricks.

willing to wait forever if that's
what it takes for you to find what we're looking for...
it's worth it, it's worth it, it has to be worth it.

longing that someday i'd find you
i just realized i've got to wait until
the day you find me.

you've got to find yourself first.

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cmc
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writing words leads to feeling feelings
i sometimes think i'd be better off not writing or feeling.

still...
it always feels better once i've put them down
and they're out there for someone else to read or write down or feel.

i wonder what blissful ignorance is like.
i'm too curious to be satiated by it...
i still believe it might be fun

for someone else.

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cmc
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Death of a Forest

There is construction happening outside my
windows...

Woken one morning to the sound of
beeping heavy machines and
Trees being quite unceremoniously
ripped out of the ground.

It was, is a horrible sound.
Much like a tooth being torn out
of gums, magnified by a googolplex.
Is that what the sound of Children
having a Grass fight sounds like to the ants?

The view is not the same;
Will never be the same.
Where once was a sea of green, brown
and at times yellow, red, orange;
At other times light green and whitish,
changing like the tides...
now more resembles a chain-link fence.

Nature giving way to man's incessant
need to destroy in the name of...
in the name of...
What?

The view's not the same.
It's more like a puddle
made beautiful by a long ago
oil leak.

I miss the Sea.

~cmc

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Scott R
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cmc:

Where you let go of the agenda ("Leave my trees alone!") and just bare the imagery of the scene, you succeed well enough. I love the image of the teeth being ripped out. You do have a lot of different elements in there, however, which can make for a kind of overload.

Your last line-- "I miss the Sea--" doesn't work because the water images in the stanzas previous are not strong enough. I know you say "sea" and "tide" and "puddle" but I need more association with them than just words in order to justify they last line.

Does that make sense?

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Scott R
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Here are a couple poems that suck.


Eros Blues

Saw a cop eat a bullet for a girl,
They were sitting in a coffee shop.
Muzzle flashes like flags unfurled
Kiss that girl, that cop.

But there's neon tonight
And an itch in my jeans
Howl beneath the baroom lights
And wish that I were clean.

Can't stay sober in this riot,
Not for a cop, not for a dame,
Not for God would I stay quiet,
Here and now, I drink the blame.

But there's neon tonight
Outside the bedroom door
And all of Eros is alight,
I go walking 'cross the floor.

Saw a kid drift into space,
He must have thought that he had wings.
Drifting sunward, I saw his face,
And I heard that poor boy sing:

There's no neon tonight,
That I'd trade for the sun
You're all locked inside those lights,
But I'll see you when you're done.


Eros Blues, pt II

When the hammer comes down, baby, who you gonna love?
When the other shoe drops, baby, who you gonna love?

He's a sweet sweetener man, yeah, but I've got a better plan,
I'm going to take you downtown, find the underground
Ride that midnight train, and scream your name,
Make your love like a whip, and I'm kissing your wrist.

When the hammer comes down, baby, who you gonna love?
When the other shoe drops, baby, who you gonna love?

It's a jingle-jangle world, in a hurdy-gurdy street,
So it's strange, baby doll, there's only silence 'neath my feet.
Where are all the jangles, and hurdy-gurdy men?
I'm kissing your wrist, love, and I'm pulling the pin.

When the hammer comes down, I'll be your only love.
When the other shoe drops, I'll be your only love.

My love, we'll explode, and noise will eat the night,
Jingling, jangling trains, and names that shine out bright,
It's a light, it's a light, light that strikes me like a fist,
When we fly into darkness, I'll still be kissing your wrist.

When the hammer comes down, I'll be your only love.
When the other shoe drops, I'll be your only love.


Need context?

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TomDavidson
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*bump*
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James Tiberius Kirk
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oh 'e'
dear 'e'
oh letter 'e'
you are 101 ascii

oh 'e'
where could you be
if you were here, there would be
no 'potry'

--j_k

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BelladonnaOrchid
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Lol! I love that.

I read the one that Bob Scopatz wrote for the placenta, and it reminded me of a poem I wrote earlier this year while I was still pregnant.


Distanced


I can not see you yet
Though you inhabit my dreams
and fill my body with
your own yearnings.
I keep waiting to see
that swell of my belly
to tell me that you are coming.
I wait, are you real
or am I still asleep?

I can not hear you yet
Though your complaints
rock my stomach
as if I were on a boat.
I keep waiting to feel
your quick movements
to assure me that you’re well.
I wait, but instead
I am greeted with silence.

She tells me as I lay still
the image on the screen is you.
So small as you move about,
Suddenly you are real.
She tells me that you’re strong
While I listen to the hushed thumping
I close my eyes and imagine,
At once you have a voice
And I am reassured.

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SenojRetep
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This is the first poem I've written in, oh, years.

There's always been a clunkiness in my poetry that makes all the rhymes feel forced. It was interesting for me to read this, when I finished, and see how the patterns that bug me about my writing haven't changed since middle school.

The Wind that Blows (the Last Leaf from the Tree)

Crashing cold
From Northern lands
Biting steel
To riven bands
I madly scream
From out my cave
To seek the weak,
The fool, the brave


It cannot last
This idyllic pageant
Our joy, tho' now full,
Can last but a moment
Our colors now bright
Tomorrow must wane
To glory we’ll cling
But fast nears our death bane

A breeze, now a gust
We tremble and quiver
With a sigh, the first falls
And floats down to the river
Two more, then still more
In droves now they speed
We have but resolve,
No hope can there be.

Blood red with dead husks
Our tree’s roots now are crown’d.
Save me, all have fallen
To the frost-hardened ground;
Alone now I face
The brute force of the storm,
Awaiting the moment
I too will be shorn.

I square to the teeth
Of the red-muzzled wind
Tho’ fain would I fly
As the fleet-footed hind.
Once more I surveil
My storm-ravaged land
And having done all
I stand.

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advice for robots
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Why I let my plant die

If you came in today you might ask me why I let my plant die.
I would tell you I bought it full grown from the hardware store,
And I never really taught it how to live.
You, though, your three faces, my faces, smiling from my desk,
I coaxed from the soil,
And sang to, and fed the best of what I had.
You, who thrive and therefore fill my heart,
Would in your abundance sorrow for a poor green plant
That shriveled on fluorescent light and tap water
And no kind words.
But I, with a thumb that is green for you only
And black for all else,
Am content to let my plant die.

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scifibum
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Purity
---

I've started many things
without finishing.
Tales of knights and kings,
hand carved wooden rings,
songs that no one sings:
many things.

These tasks are well begun
and start out fun.
But well before I'm done,
each task I shun, every one.
And yet I've won.

The devil's in the detail
and so I quail.
What would completeness entail,
but that Lucifer would prevail?
To finish would be to fail.

Aloof above the demonic grind
I keep my mind.
Infernal knots not to unwind,
my efforts are the purer kind:
I keep my skill set unrefined.
From hell enshrined.

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All4Nothing
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There are so many excellent poems here....

I just sat down a min. ago and wrote this one to have something to contribute to this topic. The movie "Bridge to Tarabithia" inspired me.

Midnight rainbows
Riding moonlight beams
Warm green waves crash
On bright orange seas

Sunlit shadows
Finding daytime dreams
Climb up golden treetrunks
O'er purple falling leaves

Twilight shepards
Herding counting sheep
The blue grass they graze
Turns yellow under feet

Dreaming traveler
Seek no explanation
There are no answers to your question
Such is imagination

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dantesparadigm
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If you like these I'll post more.

Flowers for Hitler
I’m Sorry
Words wasting in a tin can
In some bunker In Berlin.
I have a flower
A solitary bloom of colour and life
That found it’s way through
A tempest of human indifference
And I think I’ll give it to Hitler
So he can see before the end
How he could have made a difference.

Domestic Gravity
That night,
When he followed the mosquitoes
Who had found their way to your body
Hoping to follow their lead.
He pulled a beach rose from the sand
Thinking to coalesce its beauty
With chemical charm
But you refused his tribute
Saying “I dream my own dreams and have no need for tired symbols of times when to be a woman was to be a flower. If you must find something to pluck, then let it be a rose plucked for the rose’s sake and not your own.”
But the petals of that multifoliate rose
Were no less numerous for
having fallen through
the mire of domestic gravity.

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scifibum
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Trix
----
Silly rabbit,
tricking us kids.
I mourned for you -
your endless want.
The box - empty.
And you - a lie.

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Brinestone
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*giggles*

That's great.

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Tatiana
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Wow, this thread still exists! [Smile]
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