Newest
Living Idol“Ungrateful, for which I am the Living Idol,”Living Idol
Scrawled in Haiku among math problems, followed by the words in capital letters:
“TIME TO STOP THINKING”
And I look over, one row up, one column to the right, and there in her desk is my Love. Biting her lip in concentration, she is trying to write as fast as the teacher is talking. He is quite the eccentric man; he wears a new tie every day and yells loudly. He is checking homework:
“Billy, goddamnit! If your not gonna do your homework at least copy it from Liz!”
He is teaching class:
by ~memorywillfade
Pride1.Pride
I’m proud for no reason
I continually make eyelash wishes to be
the greatest poet the world ever saw
There's a giant van Gogh
on my wall I see myself in a little café in Paris
drinking coffee
But my parents have a coffee mug with a replica of that painting and the Starbucks logo
The sight of it fills my heart with despair
I no longer see myself in t
by ~memorywillfade
Silhouettecast on the wall our darkness passing over the grimy cracksSilhouette
and as the sun may grow so shall we, till we may spread our dark wings
reaching out so far that we may do nothing but fall back open
unto light and life unto the fool, mouth gaping at shadows
its so cold, he may say and he walks toward the fire, flame spread throughout his body
stretching, oh so quickly, through his veins so bright, god, on his heavenly perch, might finally see him again
please look at me, he may say, please look, please look, please look at me like
by ~memorywillfade
Favourites
The Shadows of GiantsWe looked like giants, striding along the Fences; grass in lonely spots of childhood memories burned in our minds by the sun of summer daysThe Shadows of Giants
and we shrunk again among the crowded streets of the city, with building blocks of our own, as to rival God's. were swallowed up in Babel with a sign that read "Bank of America." and in our despair we disappeared in the rain.
Our forms were traced in snow angels, while our shadows slept 'til the spring. And in the halls of universities, they would cower beneath our feet.
We owned the world.
by ~niedec
Poetry Collection IVThe Moment I was Put to DeathPoetry Collection IV
The moment I was put to Death I watched my world unfold; And took it in one failing breath Amid the sinking cold.
I saw the waters part for me, The prison walls come down; And held my head up gallantly— Prepared myself to drown.
The war drum beat in unison With my instable hart, While I marveled at the passion of It’s long-forgotten art.
Then quick, the noose, with bitter force Was tightened ‘round my neck, ‘til blood began to change its c
by ~niedec
Response to RimbaudI When you gave up poetry at 21 Had you muse left you? Why did you join the establishment? Does poetry become tiring after 5 years? Burning out on alcohol and opium Scorched the candle That was already burning at both endsResponse to Rimbaud
II “Je m’en allais, les poing dans mes podres crevées, Mon pautot aussi devenait ideal; J’allais sous le ciel, Muse! et j’étais ton féal; Oh! Là! Là! Que d’amour splendides j’ai rêves!” From ‘Ma Bohème (fantaisie)
III Rimbaud: Di
by ~EzramVPople
I hate love poemsI hate love poems. I am sick to death with, “How soft are his lips”, “The curve of her hips”, I don’t want to hear about these fallacies you build up in your head, And write in your little black book to show your friends, Pretending you’re some great poet. The world is filled with billions of topics, and yet, Nine times out of ten, Amateurs, with their books of words And rhyming dictionaries, Chose to write about an emotion, a fear of loneliness. “Her golden hair”, “His chocolate stare”, I can’t take it anymore. One at a time, you march onto stage, and sI hate love poems
by ~illdnkim
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Devious Info
- Current Residence: New York
- Interests: Writing, Playing Music, Roaming, Talking
- Favourite movie: the Science of Sleep
- Favourite band or musician: Swing Heil!, Pg. 99, Usurp Synapse, City of Caterpillar, and many more
- Favourite genre of music: Heavy
- Favourite artist: There are lots i'm not sure
- Favourite poet or writer: Rimbaud, Shelley, Ginsberg, Kerouac, Vonnegut, Corso, Yeats, Burroughs, Kafka and others
- Favourite style of art: modern usually dark
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-Mark Twain
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