Originally Posted by ladysai
I liked your gay man of steel haiku.
Perhaps you may like this one then.
http://www.thedarktower.org/palaver/...&postcount=108
I liked your gay man of steel haiku.
Perhaps you may like this one then.
http://www.thedarktower.org/palaver/...&postcount=108
All that's left of what we were is what we have become.
~bump~
I do not feel the raven gingerly pecking at my eye.
I gape dumbly as my life’s blood drains from me.
Into the frothing fuschia of the stream swirling cold around my body
Would that the chill could bring me to sobriety
from the dark intoxication of the heavy shroud of death.
Pretty, huh?
Did you write that Cozener?
Yeah
Well done Cozener. Normally I might write something like that off as aesthetic masturbation, but I really like it. There's an honesty about it that implies more than just a bunch of images thrown together.
I really like it a lot.
Is there more? (Not saying there should be, just that if there are more stanzas I'd like to read them).
Really like the alliteration and assonance of line 3, and although it seems stretched a little, I like the tension it brings to the final couplet. Also, really dig the contrast between "gentle" in regards to the raven and your own "frothing" blood.
I fucking love it man. Thanks a lot for sharing it. Well done.
Hey thanks
But there's no more. It was just something I wrote for this game...the 3 words we're using at the moment being fuschia, raven, and sobriety
Tis pretty in a demented sort of way. I read it a few times over, each time the imagry was that much clearer in my mind. Just had to say I really like that bit of writing, though I'm not sadistic enough to want to be alive and kicking when the time comes for a raven to be dipping into my eye juices.I do not feel the raven gingerly pecking at my eye.
I gape dumbly as my life’s blood drains from me.
Into the frothing fuschia of the stream swirling cold around my body
Would that the chill could bring me to sobriety
from the dark intoxication of the heavy shroud of death.
Pretty, huh?
Sobriety failed
The raven flees like her cries
Her bruise, now Fuchsia
All that's left of what we were is what we have become.
The raven lands on the house’s gutter, uttering a caw of retribution.
Quite aware of the alcohol fueled fire inside
Sobriety once again gives way to “the suicide solution.”
Another family to divide.
Fuchsia “stars” in his vision.
“Don’t hit girls,” his final decision
Besides, a man cannot be beaten by a wife
But her words hurt like an inserted, hot, dull knife.
All that's left of what we were is what we have become.
Time for a poetry thread bump!
3 new words...
celebrate
fire
snow
Buddy, you think you look strong? You’re wearing a cape.
i celebrate a meaningless place
your words used to be soft as lace
now like snow i am frozen and cold
you took my mind heart and soul
i want the fire you took from me
now what am i suppose to be
this time i dont know what to do
all i want right now is only you
If you love me then love me..
THANK YOU!!!
I love this thread and I waited so long.
I'll write one later but right now I have to watch the level of of the creek. Its getting close to overflow and my house is mere yards from it. I should have built that dike this summer as I had planned!!!
All that's left of what we were is what we have become.
Buddy, you think you look strong? You’re wearing a cape.
It seems that every winter, fire and snow compete for children’s attention.
Children play in the snow then warm themselves by the fire.
One winter they both had enough
Of one another
Trouble brewing
Tempers flare
Showdown
Fire struck the first blow
But the melted snow
put part of the fire out
Snow, revenge in mind
STRUCK!
A hiss and more snow melted
More fire extinguished
This went on
And on
Clearly no one would win
Both would die
A small boy
Behind the crowd
Short and young
Soft spoken
Raises his voice
“See what I made!”
All turn
All are confused
A snowman?
What is the point of this?
The boy
States
I have made fun with snow
With that
He struck a match
And lit the corncob pipe.
Now every winter
The people celebrate
Of the peace
The fire stays in the fireplace
The snow stays outside
Like most wars
Nothing has really changed.
All that's left of what we were is what we have become.
Buddy, you think you look strong? You’re wearing a cape.
What is there to celebrate?
He wonders as he looks
Out through his living room window.
Tasteless symbols of wasteful ways
Are bolted to the lamp posts along the street.
What is there to celebrate?
He ponders as he looks
At the snow through his living room window.
Strangers go by carrying gifts for strangers
Bought more out of habit than love.
What is there to celebrate?
He mutters as he turns
From his living room window.
His flat is small, dirty and cold
And he finds no comfort, not even from the fire.
"Happy New Year?"
Early holiday
January hangover
And new beginnings?
Broken promises
Little lies told to ourselves
Light another fuse
Bright fire raining down
Melting pristine piles of snow
Yet we celebrate?
You seem to write a bit like I write.
All that's left of what we were is what we have become.
Wow, coming from you that is a nice compliment. I really enjoy your writing
Thanks,
By the way, Your riddles make my head hurt.
Mine too. They have sucked for the past two years. It seems like I have to force them. At DT.Net they flowed from me like a mountain spring and were poetic and clever. Now I struggle.
All that's left of what we were is what we have become.
I fly sober and alone
To the place in the clouds
Where I might feel like I deserve these scars
Then I realize I can't fly
And thats when I REALLY start to deserve them
if the worlds gonna end then let's get it over with, i got shit to do
new 3 words...
strawberry
crippling
enigma
Buddy, you think you look strong? You’re wearing a cape.
An aftertaste of strawberry lingers between them
as lips are shyly withdrawn
A swell of emotion more crippling grips them
as lips are slyly indrawn
The enigma of love embraces them
as lips slide entwined.
Buddy, you think you look strong? You’re wearing a cape.
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