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Calling all Poets


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#1
dsenette

dsenette

    Je suis Napoléon!

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We need a little culture here at GtoG...and i figured ain't nothin narry near more cultured than some good poetry. I invite everyone to post their best stuff! Try to put a little info about why you wrote the poem, what it means to you, what kind of time in your life caused it's creation, you know...background info. But remember guys.. keep it clean (no limericks or dirty rhymes) and DO NOT PLAGERIZE....believe me...i will probably know if it's not your work....

so here goes..my first two.


first one, is a poem i wrote a few years ago about my dad. My dad has an odd disorder that is causing his brain stem to separate from the rest of his brain, causing really weird side effects (night terrors, random fits of laughter, moments of what we call "time dilation" where he just...goes somewhere else for about 10 minutes..usually while driving, and other really odd things) so i wrote this about my dad (who i think is one of the best people i know)

~Pop~
this is a poem about my father

Deaf man,
walking through the silence,
laughing at confusion,

taking stride without a listen
"baking glides without a glisten?"

"where am i" says he
"you tell us..you're behind the wheel" say we

Blind man,
gazing into the sea,
seeing all there is to be,

glancing into our souls
ah the things he brings to me

from days gone by he brings new light
to stories long gone by

Dieing man,
he lives today,
and every year to come,

he steps one step
and then anon
walking on his way

~David Michael Senette




I wrote this one for my girlfriend about 5 1/2 years ago when we were first starting out. it's about how when you truly love someone, they kind of turn into a virus...and take over your whole being. i am not the person i was before i met her...and tomorrow i will not be the person i am today...and it's all because of her.


~Terminal~

flowers between your toes,
more than just a sign of AFFECTION, a sign of INFECTION,
an infection of my soul, deep down within,
your love like a virus, always with me,
ever changing, growing, taking over,
bending my cell's will to your own.
this welcome intruder to my heart, my only escape,
embraced by every fiber of my being this passenger stays within,
through this spot upon my heart i see all,
i see truth, i see you, your sweet face,
your third eye awakening to meet me on a cold winters day,
your warmth all that can be felt, burning through to the center of me,
cleansing me from all that is not you,
you have grown unto me, a new being,
in you i see my perfection, i see the me i want to be,
i see my Utopian bliss awaiting my return,
forever shall i love you and forever by your side shall i remain.

~David Michael Senette


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#2
NullWolf

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Not sure if it qualifies as "Poetry":

The City Dark
©2000 R.W.Booth

The city...
shadows darken the streets...

He wanders aimlessly, lost within a dream.
Knowing someone somewhere is searching for him.
The city demons flit by him, hunting for the darkness within.
He watches as a moonless sky is filled with flashing lights.
Fire erupts behind his eyes, the taste of copper fills his mouth.
The lights grow dim as his past catches up.
The city demons take him to his new home.

He endlessly floats in a void.
At his feet, a road of regrets begins to form.
Walking upon the road, pains and sorrows are remembered.
His memories shattered, a city rises before him.
Stepping within, eternal night is all he finds.
He knows that here, noone nowhere shall search for him again.

The city...
silent and still...

Nothing lives here save his memories.
He walks past them, saddened by his fate.
All seems lost.
Pain is his only friend.
Finally, the city center is reached.
A nimbus of light surrounds a glass coffin.
Climbing in, he finds peace at last.
An eternity of pain is wiped away, and there is nothing more.


Anymore, anything else I do is what I would call "Meandering Ramblings":
example:
Wandering aimlessly, shadows darkening the depths of my mind.
Wondering when it all shall become clear.
When will I be free?

Walking, talking, never knowing. Always wondering, when will it all go away.
Screaming shadows flickering over the unobserved darkness flaring in my soul.
Shadowy fire creeping up my spine, always wondering why.

Never knowing, always wondering.
What is the purpose of existince when all is clouded?
When does the truth become clear?

I wait tirelessly for the answers, but never they come.
Waiting wondering wandering aimlessly through the enshrouded mists of my mind.

Edited by NullWolf, 20 October 2005 - 10:43 AM.

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#3
fleamailman

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Had I the Heaven's own downloaded os
Encripted beyond the hacker's might
The true and trim that comes across
Like light in night and the half night
I would post that os on your site
But I, being thick, have only my screen
I have posted my screen on your site
Thread carefully because you thread on my screen

(Yeats in our time then)
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#4
fleamailman

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Sing along time
(when you cannot remember the words)

O Banana!
Home grown on native land!
New hibread strains at your command.
With glowing hearts we see them rise,
Our new stock, strong and pestfree!
From far and wide,
O Banana, we stand on guard for thee.
God keep our land glorious and free!
For bananas a plenty.
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#5
dsenette

dsenette

    Je suis Napoléon!

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hahahha......i was waiting for your post flea...i knew you couldn't pass this up...hehehe great posts....i love it..
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#6
fleamailman

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Microsoft

I met a brocker of the Wallstreet brand
Who said: Two vast and worthless piles of stock
Lie crashed upon the ground. About them, near to hand,
Now shrunk, these tattered credits lies, that shock,
Of bloated slips whose sure and bold command,
Tell that their author well those passions read,
Which yet survive, scribbled on these worthless things,
The hand that believed them, and the heart that bled,
And upon their cardboard box these words appear:
"My name is Microsoft, Share of Shares:
Look upon my works, ye wealthy, and despair!"
Nothing beside remains. Round the decay
Of this colossal crash, boundless and bare
The blown and leveled brands stretch far away.

Shelley in our times then.

(The poems come form my blog, which has more, but recently I have not paid attention to it)

Edited by fleamailman, 21 October 2005 - 04:19 PM.

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