AnimaStone's Poetry Thread

[AnimaStone]

Looks like reruns for you this week:

[glow=brown,2,300]Pensive[/glow]
I don’t know how many times I’ve had to just sit down and think,
staring downward at the world’s
molten lava form spinning below me on its stairway to ascension.
I feel like Cthulhu when I do it:
too big for this world and the people in it,
so they isolate me
and forget about me
until I decide to make my sunken city rise back
up
to the surface.
Eventually, I come back down to earth;
eventually, everyone comes back down to earth;
but not before I’ve had a chance
to think about the people I’m leaving behind when I quit the skies.
------------------------------------------------------------------------

Unfortunately, like with any show, reruns week is not very good.

In case you were wondering, I do also do fiction.... I've got two in the Original Fiction forum, please do go and check them out if you haven't. Kthxbai.

[AnimaStone]

New stuff! Yay! It's the first thing I've been able to write in over a month... I got problems all over, and most of them involve the fact that I'm completely unworthy of the one girl I actually want. It's more complex than that, of course, but this is a poetry thread so I should shut up.

*shuts up*

[glow=red,2,300]An Exercise In Futility[/glow]
I don’t know how long I stayed grounded out there,
Mired up in classical rhythm and rhyme,
But eventually, I came back down from the air,
And now I have nothing to show for that time.
I’m sure something happened, but I don’t know where,
And frankly, it isn’t worth spending a dime—
The disturbance is great, but the judgment is fair,
And somebody, somewhere, will pay for the crime.

I don’t know how she can see something in me
That she can’t see in every guy out on the street;
I know that I shouldn’t ask questions, but see,
I’m not sure that I deserve such a great treat.
The things that she gives me are not always free
(The prices are written on people I meet),
But somehow, I never end up with the fee,
And I don’t know why, but I feel incomplete.

I don’t know how every person I know
Can suddenly vanish in only a day.
I’m sure that someday, the answer will show,
But until that time, I have nothing to say.
The blood of my red heart is ready to flow,
And I’m sure when it does, we will all see the way
That I left myself open too long to her glow,
And I never knew she was too perfect to stay.
------------------------------------------------------------------------

Please, rate this one.

[piñata]

Rate it? Okay... 9/10, I guess. It's one of your better works.

[AnimaStone]

..............or not. Seriously, I do want feedback. This poem would be a good place to start. I like it, but I want to know what other people think about it.

[glow=purple,2,300]t.s. eliot[/glow]
it’s hard to live life when you go underappreciated.
in a world that’s wired with wannabes
and strangled with soliloquies
and adverse to amenities,
every little kid out on the street
wants to be a rock star
and every gangster who ever imagined living forever
thinks he’s t.s. eliot or something,
(“i’ll show you fear in a handful of dust, man”)
when he wouldn’t know fear
if it knocked on his door and shot him.
it’s like leaving the door locked
but the window rolled all the way down.
sometimes you just have to slow down
listen to the heartbeat of the city
even though you’re living in the suburbs
and just wait for something to happen.
it doesn’t matter who you are
or where you’ve been or what you’ve done
because that all seems to vanish
when a life is on the line
and the universe just doesn’t care.

[piñata]

Hmm... I like that one, Anima. 9/10.

[AnimaStone]

I likey this one. I hope you do, too.

[glow=orange,2,300]Point Spread[/glow]
I. Holy Week
On Monday, March 30th, money will fall through the sky
From the top of the rebuilt World Trade Center,
And when it reaches the city streets, the people will stare up at it
And wonder where it came from, and whose it is,
And why it’s there, and whether they can have it.
Then there will be a day of rest and reconciliation and inflation
When the people can spend their newfound wealth,
And no one will have to show up to a scheduled job
Because a paycheck pales in comparison to a windfall.
And then someone will probably win the lottery.
I personally will be sitting in the Mandalay Bay Casino,
In the room that holds the TV screens and gives the odds
On whether or not the Cubs will ever win the World Series,
And I will be watching the point spreads rise and fall
As each new influx of money tips the favor slightly in one way
And the casino tries to cheat its way out of paying up, while
Somewhere in America, Villanova is making its final seconds really count.
I wonder what the line gave on that game.

Then, on Wednesday, money will be canceled entirely.
It’s a new gig they’re running to see if it works.
They’ll take it away, then see who really cares,
And see if anyone goes to the funeral or leaves a rose on the grave,
And if no one does, then they’ll bring it back,
But if everyone seems to care they just might not.
And the middle-aged men will stand in their driveways
And swap stories in their New World Order midlife crises:
“That’s a very nice ‘05 Porsche, but what has it ever done for you?
It can drive you places, but can it carry you when you’re tired?
And can it lift you up and catch you when you fall?
I have some 2000 Nasdaq. That’s the good stuff.
Get some of that and you’ll never need to drive again.”

On Thursday, the stockbrokers will flood into Wall Street
At 7:00 A.M., hoping to beat the crowd, and will inadvertently
Choke the building in the process. They will press against the counters
Of the shiny slick-fingered electric kiosk tables,
And they will play a game of chess with Fate. Most will lose.
The most famous brokers won’t even be in the building.
They’ll send their lackeys to play for them,
Telling them to be sure to castle,
And they’ll sit in their offices and drink coffee
And make calls to the houses of their valued customers.

My friend quit his job last week.
He decided to become a professional gambler,
So he signed on with one of the famous brokers
And bought into a good-looking portfolio
And he sits at his computer all day, watching the
Little red numbers at the bottom of the screen roll by.
(If I were him, I’d just go to Vegas and look at the odds.)

II. Unholy Unions
Supply and demand. Supply and demand.
Supply and demand. Supply and demand.
Buy low, sell high. Buy low, sell high.
Timing is everything. Timing is everything.
Reevaluate. Reinvest. Reevaluate. Reinvest.
And for the love of God, get what you can.
------------------------------------------------------------------------



I'm back in business, baby. Aw-right. At least, that's what I think.

[AnimaStone]

*patiently waiting for feedback*

[AnimaStone]

*gives up on waiting*

Meh. You all suck.

[glow=beige,2,300]Unrated Version[/glow]
Life’s just not worth living through
When nothing there appeals to you.
Since all the world is turning blue,
You need to get a room with a view.

See, you hafta live the director’s
cut or you ain’t even got
any idea what you’re missin’.
Know what I mean?

You really have to get a grip
And put a handle on your lip.
Unless you want yourself to slip,
Learn to leave a decent tip.

I’m here to show ya the ropes, kay?
I’m confident that y’ll catch on
Pretty soon.
Am I right?

And there’s the keeper of the key;
I know him, and he knows me.
He has the ins, and you’d agree
That everything is better free.

See, this is my town.
Anyone that tries t’say otherwise
Is either lyin’ or sellin’.
You catch my drift?

The zombies in the movies know
The best way to put on a show.
They hack and slash and grin and glow
And munch alike on friend and foe.

Listen to your pa here, son.
I know what I’m talkin’ bout.
You don’t wanna get yerself an incident.
Can you dig it?

And all around me every day,
The people seem to fade away.
The sky above me turns to gray,
And I have nothing left to say.

[AnimaStone]

Well. Is it just me, or does everyone suck?

[glow=blue,2,300]denied.[/glow]
Logos.
Unnamed warriors
Stand clad in iron; is it
Armor or prison?

Ethos.
My battered psyche
Sleeps in rifle sights. All it
Wants to do is dance.

Pathos.
If you weren’t such a
Bad liar, then I wouldn’t
Be in this whole mess.

[Belgarath]

Yes, we all do.

Unrated Version is pretty good... Your last one is kind of weird. >_>

[AnimaStone]

I have two for you this time.

[glow=yellow,2,300]perilous.[/glow]
Something is starting today.
I can feel it in the world around me,
Calling to me
And all others of my kind.
It is telling me to stop what I am doing.
It wants me to forget who I am,
And what I am, and where I am,
And it wants me to follow it
To oblivion and beyond.
The chapel is calling me.

Heroes have stood upon this mighty mountain
Long before me;
But my quest is just as great as theirs.
Legends began at this highest summit
Long before mine;
But my quest is just as important as theirs.
Time stood still in the great blue expanse above
Long before now;
But this time is still for the taking.
Will I answer the call?
Men no greater than I have been here before,
And men no less as well;
But their worth was determined by their answer.
I will answer.

This is it.
This is the place.
This is the chapel.
This is where the desert heat and the desert sand
Call out to passers-by.
This is the focal point of all the attention
God can afford to spare on us little ones.
This is the apex.
This is the pinnacle of existence.
This is the epicenter.
This is it.
This is the place.
This is the chapel.
And it is the deepest layer of Hell.

Why are you waiting here, old man?
I am waiting for my rocket to come.
Why are you waiting here, little one?
I am waiting for your rocket as well.

[glow=limegreen,2,300]Microbiology[/glow]
Neurons stir and come to life.
Blood boils into vivacity in vessels
That never should have been opened.
Carbon and oxygen morph into deadened
Organic matter. And sometimes—
Just sometimes—

I’m really not sure what there is between us.
A covert eyelash, a phosphorescent word;
None of it goes to show anything.
The air thickens as coils of lightning
Spiral through the ylem of existence,
Deftly wrapping around the cold
Hands of id and ego.
Jung is the only one that knows anything now.

A most interesting experiment, I said.
The electric currents are really what started it all.
That’s all we are is electricity.

Thickening air is more than just a
Figure of speech. The organic compounds,
The chemicals in the space between wheel
Endlessly on, careening,
Waiting for the eternal live-giving spark—

I assure you, I possess only an intellectual attraction

The ylem of existence (synthetic)
The ylem of existence (synthetic)
The ylem of everything Jung ever knew
The end of Jung’s existence (authentic)

Not with a bang but a whimper, that’s what he knew

What a curious mix of deception and ignorance.
Look at you, you’ve martyred yourself
All for someone else’s cause. Baptism
Of blood, indeed. Eclipse. Spring tide.

This is the final proof. Chemicals
And electric charges

I don’t know how much time I’ve wasted,
Mistaking love for lust or something else.

DNA coils around histone stones
Into grotesque mockeries of towers
With reminiscent bells that keep the hours;

No alarms and no surprises

Fall, tower of Babel, fall.
I am choking for want of change.
Gravity always wins.
-----------------------------------------------------------------------

So... any thoughts?

[piñata]

I didn't understand either one of them. WTFBBQ?

[AnimaStone]

PM me about it if you want to know. Go ahead, I bite but it usually doesn't hurt.

[Predator-Fan]

animastone said:

[glow=red,2,300]An Exercise In Futility[/glow]
I don’t know how long I stayed grounded out there,
Mired up in classical rhythm and rhyme,
But eventually, I came back down from the air,
And now I have nothing to show for that time.
I’m sure something happened, but I don’t know where,
And frankly, it isn’t worth spending a dime—
The disturbance is great, but the judgment is fair,
And somebody, somewhere, will pay for the crime.

I don’t know how she can see something in me
That she can’t see in every guy out on the street;
I know that I shouldn’t ask questions, but see,
I’m not sure that I deserve such a great treat.
The things that she gives me are not always free
(The prices are written on people I meet),
But somehow, I never end up with the fee,
And I don’t know why, but I feel incomplete.

I don’t know how every person I know
Can suddenly vanish in only a day.
I’m sure that someday, the answer will show,
But until that time, I have nothing to say.
The blood of my red heart is ready to flow,
And I’m sure when it does, we will all see the way
That I left myself open too long to her glow,
And I never knew she was too perfect to stay.
------------------------------------------------------------------------

Please, rate this one.

Hmmm....I like this one! I like all of them!

[AnimaStone]

Why thank you. ;D

I've been in a writing groove lately. Here's another:

[glow=purple,2,300]Meteor Storm[/glow]
It’s funny to watch, isn’t it—
the deconstruction of falling stars?
They think they own the world,
floating as they are far off from it.

The deconstruction of falling stars
sings its sad ballad across the night sky.
Floating as they are far off from the world,
the stars still mean something to me even now.

Sing your sad ballad across the night sky.
I know you have a life to match it.
Do the stars mean something to you even now?
I would be afraid to watch them.

I know you have a life to match
The zodiacs and lifelines on your palm.
I would be afraid to watch them.
You never know what they’ll say.

The zodiacs and lifelines on your palm
think they own your world.
You never know what they’ll say next.
It’s funny to watch, isn’t it?

-----------------------------------------------------------------------

Another pantoum. I like the cyclical nature of them.