Heaven shall rise,
from within the boundaries of damnation.
Flesh shall be shattered
Peace stems from chaos.
Worlds ripped apart, torn at the seams while coming undone.
Empty is the void that consumes those without faith,
The non believers.
Full is the cup of those who know the secret.
Instill the knowledge of goodbye,
because in this world its all you'll know.

What I lost

I lie in wait for the fall of day
As people fade away
I draw the images in my head
I write poems for the dead

Silence
Wind's blowing my thoughts away
Decadence
The end of a day

Steps?one, two, many more
Trees left without leaves
They're sad
They've lost what they had

What have I lost?
Nothing important for my earthly life?
I only desire the unknown road
And the answer of what it holds

Solitude, take me in your arms
Uncertainty, I have fallen it its charms
The end of my grief
The fall of the last leaf

Written by Cyroth on 26.11.2010 at 13:44

@Raging Dream: Nice one.About what I thought of "The line of life" was that it's a first step from a fixed and classic form of poetry, also I like the more liberty it gives me to continue an idea.Although I didn't find it as special, I have the bad habit of looking down at poems that don't have rhymes, so I guess I must start to get away from this way of thinking.
This is from 2009

Poetry

Poetry is an art
Something that tears you apart
From inner thoughts written by one's hand
Doodled a picture of a far away land

The wonders that deny one's existence
The moment, the instance
White darkness compels the rational mind
From the black nothingness, a sense you find

The end, one's grave
To a wondering ghost became slave
A place home to no soul
A place plundered by the vicious ghoul

The words that make senses tied
That leaves me terrified
This is poetry
This is me

And this is the sequel,written about 1 month ago

Poetry II

Poetry is the untold feeling
Poetry is the unspoken word
Beautiful as the fly of a bird
Dark as the mind is willing

The images create a whole new reality
You're living in duality
Where the moon is the light bringer
And the sun the lullaby singer

Under this new dawn
What you knew is long gone
Phrases are like waves of murky waters
The spell of beauty forever shatters

All of this is too far off reach
Fictions that please your heart
You can't succumb to this addiction
Poetry is more than art

Also I'm planning to write Poetry III

Ugh! I've had an awful weekend at work, purely exhausting. There just aren't enough hours in the day and enough energy to do the things I want to do. Sorry for being unable to come review poems these few days. I came and saw that you were posting, but I just couldn't find the energy and concentration to do you all justice. I've got a couple of days off this week, so hopefully I can get caught up and even review a few from a few pages back. You guys are kicking some poetic arse, so to speak, I see. Keep up the good work.


Well let's see how you did on a poem written about poetry. I quite love these, and have even braised on the subject myself. It's a wonderful way to honor the art and I would encourage any true poet to attempt such a feat.

Poetry (the poem) is an almost whimsical look at some of the different aspects of the art itself and the nature of what is written in the poems. I love the paradox of "white darkness" that you used to describe the compelling energy that sometimes fuels the words.

"The words that make senses tied
That leaves me terrified"

While these two lines are not grammatically perfect, it really does drive home a point. The words a poet writes are indeed bound to the senses. They describe in great detail what the writer sees in his/her mind, the pain, the sorrow, the joy, the elation, the heat, the cold, and the hunger. Everything that the soul experiences can be written and it in turn can captivate the reader's imagination so intensely that it does indeed "tie" the reader's senses with a proverbial rope, and hence the reader becomes the slave of the writer, through which he now controls the emotions and can induce fear or loathing or whatever he wishes with the rest of the poem.


Poetry II really kicks arse with the wonderful wording and even stronger meaning and paradoxical lines. This second part is pure beauty and you brought the poem to life with your words. I only have a couple of problems with a couple of words. "Beautiful as the fly of a bird" Fly needs to change to FLIGHT. for grammatical correctness and greater impact.

Also, "You can't succumb to this addiction" doesn't make a lot of sense within the context of your meaning here. I would think that the opposite would be true, where you 'have succumbed' to this addiction (or something along those lines). You might want to check your meaning here, and do feel free to use an online dictionary or thesaurus when writing, just to check your meanings or find alternate words that might better suit your poem.

Aside from those two issues, this is a positively wonderful poem which I highly praise for its merits.
With lines like:
"You're living in duality
Where the moon is the light bringer
And the sun the lullaby singer"

and

"Phrases are like waves of murky waters
The spell of beauty forever shatters"

You just can't deny the pure beauty of these words and the mind that created them. The imagery provoked here is awe-inspiring and borders on the surreal. It is just so true for us writers. We do see things from an entirely different perspective, almost as though we are living in a constant dream as we write. Great job on this one, dear poet. Keep up the great work! I hope to see more of this quality from you soon.

Raging Dreamer

Written by whatsacow on 29.11.2010 at 12:37

Heaven shall rise,
from within the boundaries of damnation.
Flesh shall be shattered
Peace stems from chaos.
Worlds ripped apart, torn at the seams while coming undone.
Empty is the void that consumes those without faith,
The non believers.
Full is the cup of those who know the secret.
Instill the knowledge of goodbye,
because in this world its all you'll know.

Woah! This is really an awesome poem! I love how you used the paradoxical references here. Peace stemming from chaos, heaven rising from the boundaries of damnation. This poem has killer imagery throughout. I absolutely love the wording! Pure perfection! It also contains some very through-provoking philosophical musings, as well. At one point, it seemed a little angry even, but everything here is so true. The words are piercing and binding, even with such a short length overall. You've totally captivated your readers. Really great work, man! Keep up the awesome writing!



Well that's about as much as I can manage tonight. I'm still pretty exhausted. I'll continue with soul-in-dark's poem hopefully later tonight or tomorrow. Keep up the great work guys! Oh and do check out the review for Desolate Soul - Disheartenment written by DerRozzengarten and check out the myspace link for the band. Some of you might like it.


Cheers!
Raging Dreamer

I am still stunned how you succeed to write critically and very elaborate the idea of a poem,I myself can't really find the words to best describe what I read.

Written by Cyroth on 30.11.2010 at 08:45

I am still stunned how you succeed to write critically and very elaborate the idea of a poem,I myself can't really find the words to best describe what I read.

Lol neither. If I could, I'd comment on peoples poetry. But I'm kind of limited to either: That was amazing, that was good, that was ok, or that was rubbish lol.

Bored.
The tyrrany of normality overwhelms,
Driving the force of insanity ever clearer.
Serenity overwhelms,
Tranquility is a burden.
Yearning for destruction, for chaos.
Yearning for something, anything.
It forces creativity, and forcefeeds destruction,
Trickling hope to its victims, while destroying the means.
Seven hells, Nine Circles,
Eternity for torment.
But I'm not dead yet.

Written by Raging Dreamer on 30.11.2010 at 08:21





"The words that make senses tied
That leaves me terrified"

While these two lines are not grammatically perfect,

I think you can use a bit creative license with poetry, especially if doing so will add to the emotive process. Sometimes the way gramma is structured, it doesn't allow for the emotions you're seeking to convey, or the power with which you want to convey them. Bending the English language is something that poets and author's should be able to do, as it makes the reading and writing experience that much more engaging, especially if the writer has their own specific style that is unique.

And I'm only writing shitloads of poetry atm because I can't be fucked writing another story lol. They tak wayyyyyyy too long to write.

It was very hard at first and I thought that tonight I would not succeed in writing Poetry III.As with a part of my poems, Agalloch's music is just a spark that gives way to the fire, meaning my inspiration.

Poetry III

Poetry is the medicine of my soul,
It fills these empty words
Giving life to my depraved thoughts.
It colors black, it colors white,
The marrow of my life

One verse will slow down time into a blink,
The other will change the past,
The ending one will bring joy at last?

In darkness ongoing for an escape
I mourn for this ill-natured writing
A dreamscape from reality
A break from it all, just like a comma.

Would it ever make sense why so,
Thou maybe I found this answer long ago?
I saw poetry for what it was
It completed me where I had flaws.

Written by whatsacow on 30.11.2010 at 12:05

Bored.
The tyrrany of normality overwhelms,
Driving the force of insanity ever clearer.
Serenity overwhelms,
Tranquility is a burden.
Yearning for destruction, for chaos.
Yearning for something, anything.
It forces creativity, and forcefeeds destruction,
Trickling hope to its victims, while destroying the means.
Seven hells, Nine Circles,
Eternity for torment.
But I'm not dead yet.

Amazing observational poetry. And how very very true. Normality gives way to complacency, and complacency to the desire for chaos and destruction. Anything to break apart the monotony of our every day lives, which seem to lack meaning without something to fight for.

Written by whatsacow on 30.11.2010 at 12:17

Written by Raging Dreamer on 30.11.2010 at 08:21





"The words that make senses tied
That leaves me terrified"

While these two lines are not grammatically perfect,

I think you can use a bit creative license with poetry, especially if doing so will add to the emotive process. Sometimes the way gramma is structured, it doesn't allow for the emotions you're seeking to convey, or the power with which you want to convey them. Bending the English language is something that poets and author's should be able to do, as it makes the reading and writing experience that much more engaging, especially if the writer has their own specific style that is unique.

And I'm only writing shitloads of poetry atm because I can't be fucked writing another story lol. They tak wayyyyyyy too long to write.

This is very true, though I may have misread the original. What I was trying to draw soul-in-dark's attention to was the word 'make', which seemed a little awkardly worded. I would suggest a mild tweak to that one line. Perhaps: The words that make my senses tied or Words that make the senses tied (if you really wanted to use tied as a rhyming word); the word THE is not really necessary here.

But yes, you are quite right. You can indeed bend a few language rules in poetry, which is one of the nice things about it. You can even create new words with it. I truly love poetry.


Good to see you are delving into some prose. I have a couple of projects I started a few years back, but never got to finish, due to a number of factors. I'd love to finish them, though. Do you have any posted on the writing projects thread, or is it top secret until it's finished? I don't have any of mine posted there either, but I am trying to continue the story I started. I do have some short stories completed, though. I hope one day I can publish them in a magazine or collection of short stories.

Written by Raging Dreamer on 02.12.2010 at 06:13

Written by whatsacow on 30.11.2010 at 12:17

Written by Raging Dreamer on 30.11.2010 at 08:21





"The words that make senses tied
That leaves me terrified"

While these two lines are not grammatically perfect,

I think you can use a bit creative license with poetry, especially if doing so will add to the emotive process. Sometimes the way gramma is structured, it doesn't allow for the emotions you're seeking to convey, or the power with which you want to convey them. Bending the English language is something that poets and author's should be able to do, as it makes the reading and writing experience that much more engaging, especially if the writer has their own specific style that is unique.

And I'm only writing shitloads of poetry atm because I can't be fucked writing another story lol. They tak wayyyyyyy too long to write.

This is very true, though I may have misread the original. What I was trying to draw soul-in-dark's attention to was the word 'make', which seemed a little awkardly worded. I would suggest a mild tweak to that one line. Perhaps: The words that make my senses tied or Words that make the senses tied (if you really wanted to use tied as a rhyming word); the word THE is not really necessary here.

But yes, you are quite right. You can indeed bend a few language rules in poetry, which is one of the nice things about it. You can even create new words with it. I truly love poetry.


Good to see you are delving into some prose. I have a couple of projects I started a few years back, but never got to finish, due to a number of factors. I'd love to finish them, though. Do you have any posted on the writing projects thread, or is it top secret until it's finished? I don't have any of mine posted there either, but I am trying to continue the story I started. I do have some short stories completed, though. I hope one day I can publish them in a magazine or collection of short stories.

Mine is a little too big to post. Its 48 pages in size 12 font, so yeah.
What type of stories do you write?

Written by whatsacow on 02.12.2010 at 06:39




Mine is a little too big to post. Its 48 pages in size 12 font, so yeah.
What type of stories do you write?

I wrote a short story that was a bit on the gothic/horror side, about a man who took a walk and what happened... from a first person viewpoint. I also finished one that was a bit on the action side, but with a bit of comedy and agent storyline involved. There are two I have yet to finish. One is a horror story written from the perspective of a man writing a journal. The other is a horror novel based in a pre-Hurricane Katrina landscape around the New Orleans, Louisiana area. I was actually working on that one the summer the hurricane hit. It kinda threw a damper on things, but I am still going to try to finish it. I have somewhere around 45 pages written, up to halfway through the 2nd chapter I believe. Good luck on finishing your projects. I'd like to see some of us actually succeed in publishing a major novel. It would make me proud to see that happen.

Written by Cyroth on 29.11.2010 at 21:07

What I lost

I lie in wait for the fall of day
As people fade away
I draw the images in my head
I write poems for the dead

Silence
Wind's blowing my thoughts away
Decadence
The end of a day

Steps?one, two, many more
Trees left without leaves
They're sad
They've lost what they had

What have I lost?
Nothing important for my earthly life?
I only desire the unknown road
And the answer of what it holds

Solitude, take me in your arms
Uncertainty, I have fallen it its charms
The end of my grief
The fall of the last leaf

Well everyone finally went to sleep, so now I can concentrate a bit on reading your poems. Playing Beethoven's Moonlight Sonata in the background. That piece always puts me in a very artistic mood, particularly at night, which is the prime time for creativity for me.


Wow! You should seriously try reading this while listening to Moonlight Sonata! The imagery here is so powerful and poetic. "I draw the images in my head, I write poems for the dead" Holy crap that's just amazing and so beautifully written. Dark emotions floating through the lines, such a delicate mix of textures for the mind's palette. What a feast!

"Solitude, take me in your arms
Uncertainty, I have fallen it its charms"

Ah I just want to scream with delight when I read such things! This is true emotion and mastery. And you even managed this with a rhyme! Great Job!

The beginning was one of the strongest I've read from you. It's sometimes so difficult to start, but you did a splendid job on it. Endings are equally as difficult and you did so with such a strong image. Each reader will have a different background, but the focus on that solitary leaf! Just... wow! This is a very strong poem. You did wonderfully! Pat yourself on the back for this one. I'd like to see more like this, with powerful lines that will make your audience weep!


Raging Dreamer

Written by Cyroth on 30.11.2010 at 22:41

It was very hard at first and I thought that tonight I would not succeed in writing Poetry III.As with a part of my poems, Agalloch's music is just a spark that gives way to the fire, meaning my inspiration.

Poetry III

Poetry is the medicine of my soul,
It fills these empty words
Giving life to my depraved thoughts.
It colors black, it colors white,
The marrow of my life

One verse will slow down time into a blink,
The other will change the past,
The ending one will bring joy at last?

In darkness ongoing for an escape
I mourn for this ill-natured writing
A dreamscape from reality
A break from it all, just like a comma.

Would it ever make sense why so,
Thou maybe I found this answer long ago?
I saw poetry for what it was
It completed me where I had flaws.

With this poem, I can actually see how your works have evolved. From Poetry I to Poetry III, you can see it, steadily improving your imagery and skills with the pen (or keyboard, as it were). You can actually feel the love for the art when reading this.

I do have to ask, though, since this question puzzles me. In the third stanza, last line, did you intend to say comma, as a punctuation that causes pause, or did you intend to say a coma, which is a state of prolonged unconsciousness, during which the soul wanders until the person wakes back up, if ever?

4th stanza, first word of the 2nd line, the spelling you intended was THOUGH, and not THOU, which is an old English word meaning YOU. While that word is both beautiful and poetic, I do not feel that that was the intended word here.

Aside from these two typos or misspells, whichever they were, this is a positively beautiful poem of adoration for the art, and it is filled with sincere emotion. You did very well.




Ah geez this music is making me want to write so badly. You really should try writing to classical music like this. It would be amazing to see what turned up as a result. I found this lovely piece on youtube http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Kb1-bpFiq8k&feature=related Whoever did this has some real talent and it makes the feelings well up inside. Gonna write and see what comes out. You might get to read it and you might not. I may just keep this one to myself, for my own personal satisfaction. Who knows. Keep up the good work dear poets. I will see you again soon.


Raging Dreamer

I intended to write comma as in the punctuation:D.Thanks for the spell check.

Written by Raging Dreamer on 02.12.2010 at 06:56

Written by whatsacow on 02.12.2010 at 06:39




Mine is a little too big to post. Its 48 pages in size 12 font, so yeah.
What type of stories do you write?

I wrote a short story that was a bit on the gothic/horror side, about a man who took a walk and what happened... from a first person viewpoint. I also finished one that was a bit on the action side, but with a bit of comedy and agent storyline involved. There are two I have yet to finish. One is a horror story written from the perspective of a man writing a journal. The other is a horror novel based in a pre-Hurricane Katrina landscape around the New Orleans, Louisiana area. I was actually working on that one the summer the hurricane hit. It kinda threw a damper on things, but I am still going to try to finish it. I have somewhere around 45 pages written, up to halfway through the 2nd chapter I believe. Good luck on finishing your projects. I'd like to see some of us actually succeed in publishing a major novel. It would make me proud to see that happen.

Nice, But what type of horror? There are many different genres.
I just finished writing something that merged psychological thriller, sci fi, horror and romance.
Finishing stories is very hard, I find I start a billion, just because I get a rush from writing the opening chapter of a story. Then it never goes anywhere.
If one of us gets published that'd be awesome, especially with the amount of talent in this thread alone. Everyones writing is unique and heartfelt. It really is amazing.

Written by Alphafemale on 29.03.2010 at 12:40



"For too long I was standing on the edge of the cliff for which I thought was love
For too long I was balancing between mercy and a fall
With you behind me pushing me forward and pulling me backwards
Pushing me,pulling me...

I gave you myself,thought I was safe from the world in your arms...
But you never really held me,you never really embraced me...
You kept me hanging on the thin line...
Pushing me,pulling me...

I felt I was loosing the ground beneath my feet...
I heard the stones falling into the deep...
I opened my eyes and the abyss in front of me terrified me...
I was about to fall.
Pushing me...

But no more!
I turned around and faced my fear...I faced you.
You looked so old and tired...
Holding that thin line and laughing at me...
Seeing my face for the first time...
Pulling me...

I gazed upon your face,with the fire inside of me...
I tore the line you were holding and threw it into the wind...
As you stood there,cold and bittered,I felt the blood flowing down my spine...
But the blood was warm,unlike anything you ever gave me...

And in that moment I realized,I got wings to fly!
They grew in the moment giving me a chance to fly away...
And I did.
I turned away from you and flown over the abyss...
Over to the other side.
Without you pushing me or pulling me...

I landed safe to the other shore of life,
And now I'm watching you standing there on the other side...
You look so small and week...
Your essence is fading...

For a moment I gaze upon the sky...I see our moments...
Momentary eclipses of love and happiness...
And they are looking down on me...
They are smiling at me...
I smile back to them...leaving them to travel back from where they came from...
From the deep of the ocean,from once warm summer nights...
From where the love was being born...
From where the light was being seen...
From the place where WE existed,long ago...
I leave those two happy souls to travel back in time,hoping that they never experience the present.

For a second I look back on you...feeling no anger and no hate...
You are still standing there with your eyes closed,
Pushing me,pulling me...
And I fear the moment when you will open your eyes
And see that I'm not there anymore to be...

My heart will always burn with the same desire...
But I must move on and follow the fire...
There are too many oceans to swim in,
There are too many summer nights waiting to be seen..."

In order to shorten the post, I omitted the first poem, but will comment on it here for the author to recognize.

Beautiful World of Duality is a very eye-opening, thoughtful musing about the two sides of every coin, so to speak. It's quite amusing and enlightening to look at things from totally different perspectives. I like the way you continually question the reader, and then reiterate the question. It seems like you are almost in your reader's face at times lol... A very interesting piece though, with just a touch of the insanity that gives poetry that spark of fury and passion. Nice work!


Well it's going to be a little difficult to concentrate with Rob Zombie playing from my husband's computer at 36 decibels. I'll go grab some hot tea and see if i can somehow drown him out with the power of my mind.


15 minutes later....


Poem with no title...


This is actually a beautiful piece that tells a story. It's almost as if you were telling MY story. I can feel the frustration from the pushing... pulling... I find it very interesting that (1) you put the entire poem in quotes and (2) you used the ... pushing... pulling.... at key points at the end of several stanzas...Should you ever wish to publish this, please feel free to contact me. There are some misspells and various minor grammar issues that cannot be avoided, and this is perfectly understandable for someone who does not speak English as their native language. I can fix them for you whilst keeping the poem intact (as to the writer's specifications and wording) if you should desire to share this in a more professional or public setting. I will be going over my own as well, when I finally publish them in one form or another.

In all, this poem was about letting go, and about the will to be free to live your own life. I applaud you for your brave heart. So many people can't find the will or means to move on. I hope you indeed found your freedom, dear one.





@ what's_a_cow, I guess you could call the genre of horror I write... a mix of sci-fi and mystery horror... I just hope I can finish it eventually.

Written by Guest on 04.12.2009 at 18:30

A breath lying among the darkness
Here the smoke is dispersed perfectly above
Dont stop mixing some of its magic
We lay drinking in the impossibilities

Today,
The sheep is dancing around a tempted wolf
All safe...now there is no more blood to be spilt
The Beast cries inside its mourning thirst
To forth you enthrall all apparitions of a broken dream

A crescent moon's embroideries erasing shadows
From where they lay in my mind
Beyond the world I wander.
I see more than what it should give

Tomorrow,
Your threads sew and haunt beautifully inside us
Everywhere it is sewn, My mind wonders
Can I touch the thread without cutting its freedom?
Should you let it go eventually.
When all wonders fade?
I, loyal and true, Will never die from it.

But if I find myself through time.
Take it so the shadows reach the sun
A few more fragile promises
Come for the path undone.....

I must admit, I had to read this one repeatedly, and still the meaning seems to elude my grasp. It seems, though, that through your written madness, you are wanting to hold, to have... something that you cannot.

In the first stanza,

"A breath lying among the darkness
Here the smoke is dispersed perfectly above
Dont stop mixing some of its magic
We lay drinking in the impossibilities"

There is an inherently strong darkness amongst the smoky visuals. And I use the word smoky here, because there is a literal smoke being emitted in the words of your poem. But the smoke you spoke of creates a sense of magic, which is consumed, albeit the literal fact is impossible. It is only through the mind that this can happen.

"Today,
The sheep is dancing around a tempted wolf
All safe...now there is no more blood to be spilt
The Beast cries inside its mourning thirst
To forth you enthrall all apparitions of a broken dream"

Here, we begin to speak about a strong desire for something that cannot be had. There is a sense of desperation in your words and metaphors. And then, in the last line, it almost doesn't make sense, but somehow, I feel that this was done deliberately. Madness is beginning to consume the mind, calling and mesmerizing the fragments of that broken dream.

"A crescent moon's embroideries erasing shadows
From where they lay in my mind
Beyond the world I wander.
I see more than what it should give"

Here, the visuals begin to take on a new form, which seems to follow throughout the remainder of the poem. The delicate embroideries, the threads of what is created by the one who is the object of desire. Again, you cannot touch the moon, yet it casts its shadows and creations upon the earth and upon the mind, from which you wander far away, imagining oh so much more than what reality can bring.

"Tomorrow,
Your threads sew and haunt beautifully inside us
Everywhere it is sewn, My mind wonders
Can I touch the thread without cutting its freedom?
Should you let it go eventually.
When all wonders fade?
I, loyal and true, Will never die from it."

Again, a reference to the embroidered creations that call to us, though we cannot touch it, we cannot hold it. We can only look upon it in wonder and awe. Yet if were were to cease our attentions, would the magic fade away? The last line of this stanza seems a little offset, but there also seems to be some sort of meaning here. If the magic faded, would you too fade away? The writer here refuses this ending and refuses to let go even should the magic become a mere memory, not so long as there is life within the soul. (at least that's my humble interpretation)

"But if I find myself through time.
Take it so the shadows reach the sun
A few more fragile promises
Come for the path undone...."

Again, this stanza seems to be filled with madness. Yet it is also filled with beautiful imagery and emotion. The writer here seems to be even stronger in will, holding those fragmented memories high above all else. And in doing this, she creates the magic anew, even though it may not last, and every path traveled in search of that dream may crumble underfoot. Yet still, the dreamer travels on.


Well I may have been totally off-base, but I believe this was the most difficult interpretational review I have done thus far. It is a truly beautiful poem filled with mystery and visual intrigue. You did quite wonderfully on this, led by the voices of madness that all poets endure. It's just a bit more apparent than in a lot of poems, here in your fevered words. Keep writing dear one! I hope to hear more from you sometime, if you feel like posting!

And do let me know if I was on target with the meaning here, or if I was totally off-base with this. I'm curious to know, since I by no means am an expert, at least not in my humble opinion.




Well, I think I'm going to take a rest for a while. I have editing coming in in a couple of hours and then work at the restaurant later in the day. Hope to see you all soon. Take care and keep writing and posting those poems!



With the utmost respect and adoration,

Raging Dreamer

Relationships devastated,
Cut off from society
Isolated.
Dead to anything social.
Thoughts projected and riccoche'd off walls
No one to receive them
No one to love
No one cares.
The end of creativity.
The end of everything.
I kick the chair away and hang for the moment some one loves
for the moment I'm needed
Wanted
Acknowledged
The moment I exist.

My world twists and crumbles into a deformed ball,
As finite as a piece of paper too close to a naked flame.
Serenity eases itself through the cracks in my fingers and slowly escapes my grasp,
Making sure to taunt me before it leaves, leaving me breathless and desperate.
I can't breathe.
I can't speak.
As burdoned as a nameless stone you float away
Again and again.
This line between love and hate is fraying yet again,
and sympathy won't work this time.
Try and try again but there's no fucking point.
No point in being anything but blunt
because nothing else works.
Close minded and uncaring is how I seem.
Truth is I am, and can't bring myself to see it.

Written by whatsacow on 05.12.2010 at 14:28

My world twists and crumbles into a deformed ball,
As finite as a piece of paper too close to a naked flame.
Serenity eases itself through the cracks in my fingers and slowly escapes my grasp,
Making sure to taunt me before it leaves, leaving me breathless and desperate.
I can't breathe.
I can't speak.
As burdoned as a nameless stone you float away
Again and again.
This line between love and hate is fraying yet again,
and sympathy won't work this time.
Try and try again but there's no fucking point.
No point in being anything but blunt
because nothing else works.
Close minded and uncaring is how I seem.
Truth is I am, and can't bring myself to see it.

Ehh sorry for being gone for a couple of days. I was just way too exhausted to do any reviews the last couple of nights. Sometimes I think I do way too much, but I gotta keep busy.. gotta keep moving forward...



I'll go ahead and review both poems by what's_a_cow in one post. That'll cut down on the amount of room I use for my posts.. lol...


Your first of two sequential poems...

Wow! This is a really excellent description of bitter isolation. You're very exact in the way the emotions are displayed, because that is exactly how I feel a lot of the time, since I have no friends that live anywhere near me. I have associates locally but I don't hang out with anyone.. I go to work... I go home.. and I occasionally go pay bills or buy groceries in the middle of the night. So I am very attuned to the isolation you are describing here... Excellent job on this one! It's rare to find a poem that so accurately describes this state of being.



The second poem (the one being quoted here)...


Somehow this seems very personal. The emotions of frustration and desperate turmoil come out very acutely. The way you have written this, the visual stand out and pause with every breath, just to make you linger upon them. This is really excellent work! Lastly, there is pause again, this time for introspection. Yet all in all, there is a mix of bitterness and despair. The pain of finality here is just so strong and harsh..

The only thing, technically, that I noticed here is that you need to do a spell check on the word "burdened". Aside from this, everything else is very well-written.

In all, this is a truly excellent release of emotion, profusely stabbing at the soul. You are indeed a masterful poet.


Well, guys, I have a number of things to do tonight, to include looking into starting a blog for my poems. It may well be the best option for me. I'll see you guys hopefully later tonight. If not, then I hope I'm not too tired tomorrow after work. You know how it can get at times. Take care all. See you soon!


Cheers!

Raging Dreamer

Written by Raging Dreamer on 05.12.2010 at 22:50

Written by whatsacow on 05.12.2010 at 14:28

My world twists and crumbles into a deformed ball,
As finite as a piece of paper too close to a naked flame.
Serenity eases itself through the cracks in my fingers and slowly escapes my grasp,
Making sure to taunt me before it leaves, leaving me breathless and desperate.
I can't breathe.
I can't speak.
As burdoned as a nameless stone you float away
Again and again.
This line between love and hate is fraying yet again,
and sympathy won't work this time.
Try and try again but there's no fucking point.
No point in being anything but blunt
because nothing else works.
Close minded and uncaring is how I seem.
Truth is I am, and can't bring myself to see it.

Ehh sorry for being gone for a couple of days. I was just way too exhausted to do any reviews the last couple of nights. Sometimes I think I do way too much, but I gotta keep busy.. gotta keep moving forward...



I'll go ahead and review both poems by what's_a_cow in one post. That'll cut down on the amount of room I use for my posts.. lol...


Your first of two sequential poems...

Wow! This is a really excellent description of bitter isolation. You're very exact in the way the emotions are displayed, because that is exactly how I feel a lot of the time, since I have no friends that live anywhere near me. I have associates locally but I don't hang out with anyone.. I go to work... I go home.. and I occasionally go pay bills or buy groceries in the middle of the night. So I am very attuned to the isolation you are describing here... Excellent job on this one! It's rare to find a poem that so accurately describes this state of being.



The second poem (the one being quoted here)...


Somehow this seems very personal. The emotions of frustration and desperate turmoil come out very acutely. The way you have written this, the visual stand out and pause with every breath, just to make you linger upon them. This is really excellent work! Lastly, there is pause again, this time for introspection. Yet all in all, there is a mix of bitterness and despair. The pain of finality here is just so strong and harsh..

The only thing, technically, that I noticed here is that you need to do a spell check on the word "burdened". Aside from this, everything else is very well-written.

In all, this is a truly excellent release of emotion, profusely stabbing at the soul. You are indeed a masterful poet.


Well, guys, I have a number of things to do tonight, to include looking into starting a blog for my poems. It may well be the best option for me. I'll see you guys hopefully later tonight. If not, then I hope I'm not too tired tomorrow after work. You know how it can get at times. Take care all. See you soon!


Cheers!

Raging Dreamer

You have to post the link to your blog!

Written by whatsacow on 06.12.2010 at 06:46



You have to post the link to your blog!

Well I just started it. It's got only one post so far, but so as not to overwhelm everyone, I will post only one or two a week. I couldn't use my pseudonym either, since it was already taken.. lol.. but I think It looks really nice. Here's the link:

http://mistressofpoetry.wordpress.com/



Copy and paste it to your browser and enjoy!

Finished writing a new one

Storm of doubt

Once sealed on pieces of paper
Now roam freely in the void of my life
These decayed thoughts of mine
I struggle to deny

Inside this storm of doubt
Tomorrow's full of loss
Constantly stumbling across
My self

Flashing the spark of irrationality
To become once again indulged
To become once again alive
When all is coming down

Inside this storm of doubt
I find myself pouring down like rain
So I cease to give life
When we're in a strife

Contemplate on these words
For you will be at loss
When everything is said and done
Tomorrow's full of loss

Written by Raging Dreamer on 03.12.2010 at 02:54

Written by Alphafemale on 29.03.2010 at 12:40



"For too long I was standing on the edge of the cliff for which I thought was love
For too long I was balancing between mercy and a fall
With you behind me pushing me forward and pulling me backwards
Pushing me,pulling me...

I gave you myself,thought I was safe from the world in your arms...
But you never really held me,you never really embraced me...
You kept me hanging on the thin line...
Pushing me,pulling me...

I felt I was loosing the ground beneath my feet...
I heard the stones falling into the deep...
I opened my eyes and the abyss in front of me terrified me...
I was about to fall.
Pushing me...

But no more!
I turned around and faced my fear...I faced you.
You looked so old and tired...
Holding that thin line and laughing at me...
Seeing my face for the first time...
Pulling me...

I gazed upon your face,with the fire inside of me...
I tore the line you were holding and threw it into the wind...
As you stood there,cold and bittered,I felt the blood flowing down my spine...
But the blood was warm,unlike anything you ever gave me...

And in that moment I realized,I got wings to fly!
They grew in the moment giving me a chance to fly away...
And I did.
I turned away from you and flown over the abyss...
Over to the other side.
Without you pushing me or pulling me...

I landed safe to the other shore of life,
And now I'm watching you standing there on the other side...
You look so small and week...
Your essence is fading...

For a moment I gaze upon the sky...I see our moments...
Momentary eclipses of love and happiness...
And they are looking down on me...
They are smiling at me...
I smile back to them...leaving them to travel back from where they came from...
From the deep of the ocean,from once warm summer nights...
From where the love was being born...
From where the light was being seen...
From the place where WE existed,long ago...
I leave those two happy souls to travel back in time,hoping that they never experience the present.

For a second I look back on you...feeling no anger and no hate...
You are still standing there with your eyes closed,
Pushing me,pulling me...
And I fear the moment when you will open your eyes
And see that I'm not there anymore to be...

My heart will always burn with the same desire...
But I must move on and follow the fire...
There are too many oceans to swim in,
There are too many summer nights waiting to be seen..."

In order to shorten the post, I omitted the first poem, but will comment on it here for the author to recognize.

Beautiful World of Duality is a very eye-opening, thoughtful musing about the two sides of every coin, so to speak. It's quite amusing and enlightening to look at things from totally different perspectives. I like the way you continually question the reader, and then reiterate the question. It seems like you are almost in your reader's face at times lol... A very interesting piece though, with just a touch of the insanity that gives poetry that spark of fury and passion. Nice work!


Well it's going to be a little difficult to concentrate with Rob Zombie playing from my husband's computer at 36 decibels. I'll go grab some hot tea and see if i can somehow drown him out with the power of my mind.


15 minutes later....


Poem with no title...


This is actually a beautiful piece that tells a story. It's almost as if you were telling MY story. I can feel the frustration from the pushing... pulling... I find it very interesting that (1) you put the entire poem in quotes and (2) you used the ... pushing... pulling.... at key points at the end of several stanzas...Should you ever wish to publish this, please feel free to contact me. There are some misspells and various minor grammar issues that cannot be avoided, and this is perfectly understandable for someone who does not speak English as their native language. I can fix them for you whilst keeping the poem intact (as to the writer's specifications and wording) if you should desire to share this in a more professional or public setting. I will be going over my own as well, when I finally publish them in one form or another.

In all, this poem was about letting go, and about the will to be free to live your own life. I applaud you for your brave heart. So many people can't find the will or means to move on. I hope you indeed found your freedom, dear one.




Hej:)

You just made my day:) Tnx for the wonderful comments:) I am so happy just because somebody actually took time to read it and understand it...this poem was so personal, and I guess I thought no one will read it in this way and understand it
Wow, never thought I could publish it, because that kind of things are hard in Croatia, but it sounds like an great idea
And, yes, I did find my happiness, it took me some time, but I am grateful for every moment in my life, and I try to learn something from it

Written by Cyroth on 06.12.2010 at 23:23

Finished writing a new one

Storm of doubt

Once sealed on pieces of paper
Now roam freely in the void of my life
These decayed thoughts of mine
I struggle to deny

Inside this storm of doubt
Tomorrow's full of loss
Constantly stumbling across
My self

Flashing the spark of irrationality
To become once again indulged
To become once again alive
When all is coming down

Inside this storm of doubt
I find myself pouring down like rain
So I cease to give life
When we're in a strife

Contemplate on these words
For you will be at loss
When everything is said and done
Tomorrow's full of loss

Well the idea behind this is actually very good. You seemed, however, to be repeating the same words over and over. I like the idea of your thoughts running off the page, though. A very interesting concept though. You seemed to be struggling to find the words to describe your emotional state, and it seems almost forced here. Try to relax and let the voices run amok in your head. They are a very good guide when writing. But fear not, this happens from time to time with all of us when we want to write but hit a mental block (at least this is what I have perceived, forgive me if I am wrong).
There were some good points here, though.

"These decayed thoughts of mine
I struggle to deny"

These two lines are very strong and emotionally adept. The feeling of conflict is very acute here.

"Constantly stumbling across
My self"

And here also, the struggle continues. You did good to keep with the same theme of self-conflict. There is a hint of despair and agony throughout the poem, so this is a good thing. The emotions, at least, are solid.


Keep up the great work, dear one. Let me know if my perceptions are correct. I could always be wrong about certain things, being the human that I am lol.



@ alphafemale, I'm happy that I was able to make your day, dear, and even happier that you have overcome your situation. Best wishes to you. I hope to see more posts from you soon!

Well, I've got work coming in soon, so I'll try to get a short nap in and get on with it. Hope to hear from you all soon!


With adoration,

Raging Dreamer

It was not forced.I'll tell you what I tried to do and succeeded.I was kinda lost, thinking about what to write, no clear ideas and then it struck me. I imagined in my head the voice of a band's vocalist [in this particular poem Mikael Stanne from Dark Tranquillity] and it was as if suddenly I had some ideas floating in my head and it came quite easy to write all the poem. If you listened to Dark Tranquillity some parts can be identified with what the band sings about.

Curiosity, a force of intensity;
The soul years for answers.
The heart is treacherous,
Prone to desire...
The brain is weak,
The body powerless
To the woes of mystery,
Bound to possibilities and "what if's"
What if there was more than merely an 'I'?
What if that 'I' were prefixed with a "you and"?
What if the plague of misery and lonelyness subsided,
and together was all we were...

Written by Cyroth on 08.12.2010 at 09:34

It was not forced.I'll tell you what I tried to do and succeeded.I was kinda lost, thinking about what to write, no clear ideas and then it struck me. I imagined in my head the voice of a band's vocalist [in this particular poem Mikael Stanne from Dark Tranquillity] and it was as if suddenly I had some ideas floating in my head and it came quite easy to write all the poem. If you listened to Dark Tranquillity some parts can be identified with what the band sings about.

Hmm I see it more clearly now. Perhaps I was a bit distracted or tired. My apologies. Keep up the great work!


@ what's_a_cow, I'll try to get to your poem tonight after work.


At any rate, I'm going to get some sleep now. I've been up all night, only napping about 20-30 minutes at a time, waiting on my work to come in. It finally came in at 4am. I've gotta get up at noon; it's almost 7:30 now, and I just finished my assignment. I work entirely too much lol... I think I'll sleep long and hard tomorrow while I'm off.


By the way, I posted a new poem on my blog, if anyone cares to check it out. Quite a fascinating story. The address, again, is www.mistressofpoetry.wordpress.com


Take care all. G'nite!