Thank you sir...I am sorry
Thank you sir...I am sorry
All that's left of what we were is what we have become.
Powerful words, Jon. And very timely food for thought.
I am sorry for the spoiler tag.
I think the photo was very much a part of the poem, and it's inclusion alongside (or rather, underneath) the printed words added much....the brutality of the image added exclaimation points, underlined and bolded phrases, and generally lit up the whole poem.
But, I understand the need for the spoiler tag, and I just hope everyone who reads will click to see the photo.
I really love the way you use photos as a base or background for your poems, Jon. It seems like the images enhance the words, and the words enhance the images simply by your placing them together in your posts.
Goodstuff.
Rancid Meet
You there
and me here
Look at what is between
Hate,
bile and bloodlust
We put it there together you and I
out of fear.
My archer’s bowstrings tremble
Anticipation
Your pike men murmur
and curse
like their fathers before them
Centuries now,
we partake in this macabre minuet
Much effort
many lives
to support these Crusades
Centuries old stalemate, yet we fight
this time each harvest
From dawn,
until the small hours,
men cast their last wish
Many,
like you and I,
forget the reason we fight and bleed
It is leaders like you and I that put humanity
To the Test
Yes we test humanity, those like us.
But is that
so bad?
There was war before man
Animals fought for sex, food and land.
Are we so different?
So
evil?
Your pike men grow impatient,
poor training
or a pretend?
my bow men slack their draw.
Weakening,
or conserving?
You look at me now.
What of my eyes
Your future
or your end?
Sun up now, Sun at my back
Your turn for fear
Your voice,
(the report I have heard every year since we were teens)
Sounds!
It at that moment, your voice could have been
a friend
with mead offering a cheer
But there is no mistaking that inflection,
or that word
“Hate”
“Kill”
“ FEAR”
all in one irreversible shout
“CHARGE!”
Your steeds
and your men climb the hill
undeterred
war cries drowned out
By The Hooves’ musical beat,
They reach that angle
The sun
Their eyes
My bowmen,
#TWANG#
times 200
Steed and men
F
A
L
L
with a shout
My bowmen knock,
Your next wave reaches
that fatal
g
n L
A e
The sun, their eyes
#TWANG#
Steed and men fall
My bowmen knock
On it goes until the sun
is your
ally
Then my men
and steeds
sprint,
squint
and die.
All that's left of what we were is what we have become.
Rancid Meet (traditional)
You there and me here
Look at what is between
Hate, bile and bloodlust
We put it there together you and I, out of fear.
My archer’s bowstrings tremble, Anticipation
Your pike men murmur and curse
like their fathers before them
Centuries now, we partake in this macabre minuet
Much effort many lives
to support these Crusades
Centuries old stalemate, yet we fight this time each harvest
From dawn, until the small hours,
men cast their last wish
Many, like you and I, forget the reason we fight and bleed
It is leaders like you and I that put humanity To the Test
Yes we test humanity, those like us.
But is that so bad?
There was war before man
Animals fought for sex, food and land.
Are we so different? So evil?
Your pike men grow impatient,
poor training or a pretend?
My bow men slack their draw.
Weakening, or conserving?
You look at me now. What of my eyes?
Your future or your end?
Sun up now, at my back
Your turn for fear
Your voice, (the report I have heard every year since we were teens)
Sounds!
At that moment, your voice could have been a friend with mead offering a cheer
But there is no mistaking that inflection, or that word
“Hate”,” Kill”,“ FEAR”
all in one irreversible shout
“CHARGE!”
Your steeds and your men climb the hill undeterred
war cries drowned out By The Hooves’ musical beat.
They reach that angle
the sun, Their eyes
My bowmen, #TWANG# times 200
Steed and men fall.
with a shout My bowmen knock,
Your next wave reaches
that fatal angle
The sun, their eyes
#TWANG#
Steed and men fall
My bowmen knock
On it goes until the sun is your ally
Then my men and steeds
sprint, squint and die.
All that's left of what we were is what we have become.
Which one is better?
All that's left of what we were is what we have become.
Love's Millionaire
Your almond eyes await
You posed a question
As I think back to that day
And chuckle at my internal debate
“Is this a trapdoor, camouflaged by beautiful brown hair?”
My thoughts raced, in time with my pounding heart.
Pounding harder than a man’s pecs can take
Can this poor boy become Love’s millionaire?
Softly you repeat your question
Two deep umber pools express your anticipation
A flash of your eyes sends lightning through my veins
A flush of heat divulges my love, and my infatuation.
I take your arm, your question not repressed
Caressing soft skin, fingernails to elbow.
Carelessly twirling your chestnut hair, lightly brushing the skin beneath.
I think of the angel speaking to me, and know that I am blest.
Your third attempt at an answer leaves you in doubt
But you cannot know, your question leaves me so… breathless
The epitome of beauty and purity, speaks softly, and to my soul.
The one who fate would never let me live without.
Your question, in a husky voice, posed thrice.
After removing myself from the dream world in which we met
I think to myself “This question begs an answer does it not?”
I look at your eyes and you figure, made by God to be my vice.
I take your hand in mine.
Two hands become one
Instinctively, our fingers intertwine
Then that’s what we’ll do
I say “Yes baby… I’ll marry you!”
All that's left of what we were is what we have become.
Thank you Linda
All that's left of what we were is what we have become.
Late Acquiescence
Your heart engraved on my soul
It always will be
No chemical, knives or surgery
It always will be.
A disguise or distorting scar, useless
It always will be.
Then to embrace you, all that you are, your peerless tenderness, your demeaning wit.
It never will be
So ingrained, now… I acquiesce, too late
It never will be
I beg an appeal to your deep, cold heart...but
It never will be
Now, only merely a predilection, now only black, glazed eyes
It never will be
A mark on a soul, once the target of your voracity.
It once was
A hot knife will never remove from my mind, heart and soul that,
It once was
To all who once knew, remember,
it once was
And rejoice.
All that's left of what we were is what we have become.
Slime Alpha-Adam
Just lying here taking a snooze
I think I’ll wake up
And wiggle over there
Next to that bacteria making air
Smells like O˛, but she’s the only company here.
In the primordial ooze
Some call me Alpha, some say that's sacrilegious
These amino acids are just so damned delicious
Pfft…what’s this stringy thing?
Hmmm... a double helix shape
Oh well I’ll try something new
Gulp!!
All that's left of what we were is what we have become.
The Crop
Cast away, but not to a far place.
Cast just enough that the healthy cannot see my face
Recently deemed iniquity
An activity began in antiquity
All that's left of what we were is what we have become.
WARNING: Imagery of suicide and suicidal ideation.
Spoiler:
A Letter From Young Me ; To Future Me
Hey man, don't take the brown acid!
Don't sweat all the beer you drank
There will be little blue pills for when you are flaccid
Do us both a favor and go easy on the crank.
Remember... that hottie you will sleep with in 1980
Think long and hard with your upper brain
Everyone will laugh because, dude, that was no lady
Bear in mind that welding doesn't mix well with cocaine
Know that cannibalism is not considered a family activity
Don't forget that the Hoover Dam isn't there for you to climb.
Be cognizant that farmers do not appreciate your bestialic proclivity
And DON'T go to a beatnik poetry reading yelling "Hell, that didn't even rhyme!"
All that's left of what we were is what we have become.
WARNING: Suggestive imagery.
Spoiler:
All that's left of what we were is what we have become.
Thank you , sir!
All that's left of what we were is what we have become.
Aye, yup
All that's left of what we were is what we have become.
There is no doubt that this is a dark, dark piece. You evoke the image in my mind pretty clear as to what the scene looks like, during and after. This piece is definitely not for the fainthearted among us.
Seeing as how I've had similar feelings (I can't say I've felt the same, being half your age and a different gender, but I've felt similar), I can really get a feel for where you're coming from here. I think you were right, I think I'm one of the few people who can genuinely appreciate a poem this dark and brutal.
Though dark and brutal it may be, it is still a work of beauty. The words, the images, the emotion... Beautifully blended in an almost bleak, and surely truthful way. Thank you for sharing this with me, it is amazing.
Random PM's are loved!
Call me Can.
Discord Tag: Can*/Tommy (They/Them pronouns)#5588
This one ALMOST got deleted. It lost me...or rather I lost it. I decided to put in the "where the fuck did this come from" file. I wanted to go on but something made me cut it off.
Refuge
This field of grain; his refuge
He would sit and play
The grain enveloped him
His music swept skyward
Past the birds he longed to fly with
To the gods he did not trust
To the souls who left him behind
Carried by the winds sometimes
To the souls who had yet to leave him
She will surely leave him soon
As will the harvest take his refuge
All that's left of what we were is what we have become.
ooo
thats a very interesting poem
It feels airy but theres a heavyness to the ending...
you put alot into something with only 11 lines
if the worlds gonna end then let's get it over with, i got shit to do
Thank you for taking the time to give feedback. This poem just wrote itself.
All that's left of what we were is what we have become.