sucks... (to be continued) add your shitty ass poetry

chadwickchadwick Posts: 21,157
edited January 2013 in Poetry, Prose, Music & Art
(tuesday, january 29, 2012.)

nights alone, tired
no sun promised tomorrow
same moonlight tonight as vacant as i
she sells honey
sweet gives it away
sweet gives it away

she sells honey
sweet gives it away
she sells honey
sweet gives it away

push away the same old sky
open new only for a few
what can i do
lord what can i do
for poetry through the ceiling. ISBN: 1 4241 8840 7

"Hear me, my chiefs!
I am tired; my heart is
sick and sad. From where
the sun stands I will fight
no more forever."

Chief Joseph - Nez Perce
Post edited by Unknown User on

Comments

  • AnnafalkAnnafalk Posts: 4,004
    I've read several of your poems I think your very talented !
  • chadwickchadwick Posts: 21,157
    Annafalk wrote:
    I've read several of your poems I think your very talented !
    thank you, anna. thank you very much. been writing on this piece this afternoon. feels good.


    i love writing. why a poet has words? why feel world winds in your very own inner tunnel? more importantly a struggle inside screaming & digging & gnawing & clawing, stinging me repeatedly with decades of torture right in my jugular directly flowing into my spinal cord & brain stem where there are trillions of impulses firing grinding me down to nothing as singers cry for me

    birds fall to the ground
    inside feathers lying about like mud puddles drying up in an african broiler that is the heat pits

    sometimes blizzards take me off & blowing into completely different directional dreams
    where running are the north-winds carried along by wooden long ships rowing with nautical star-belt chartings where near & years away fogs burn all our backs muscle bound or bone thin torn to bits by the great whip cracking through the air slicing silence as if razors where berserkers are kept alive for war, love, & fire

    fire needs us to be set
    fire needs us to be set
    fire needs us to be nailed to crucifix
    weld your entire arm into a crucible
    metal gods of war will gather fruit
    and place nectar & their seeds at your feet

    fire needs us to be set
    fire needs us to be set
    fire needs us to be nailed to crucifix
    weld your entire arm into a crucible
    metal gods will gather fruit
    and place nectar & their seeds at your feet

    fire needs us to be set
    fire needs us to be set
    fire needs us to be nailed to crucifix
    weld your entire arm into a crucible
    metal gods will gather fruit
    and place nectar & their seeds at your feet

    the metal gods breed together with human beings thousands of years in the making the perfect goddess given as gift to brave men
    eyes out sparkling suns are hers each one on flame her hair like the garden or sky at sunset or rise she as the mighty oak the forest at her feet rises up
    fawn and deer play in her skin running jumping for her enjoyment she runs entire hillsides from one to another sometimes entire calendars fall to the earth and she has not blinked an eye but has flocked & herded as if winds are her youth the smell of tulip & burnt cedar from a promised land further away than my imagination could ever last
    the magical grapevines up the sides of eastern & western clouds stationed as flagpoles the entryway to our castles each one stronger than the last her king sometimes my shadows remind me of battles blood spilt for her hand axed to death thousands for thorvald & his brother

    we have set fires flames need us
    we have set fires flames need us

    we rose up
    we stood
    we swung
    we drew red
    we flew like sparrow
    we dove like falcon feather through canyon
    grand or minute
    we dove screaming drinking our enemies’ boiling red from golden goblets
    we have eaten their eyes
    we have sold their flesh to wolves after ripped apart bone to dust for conguring
    we have swam oceans for enjoyment
    started cyclones for challenge
    uplifted mountain ranges under each sea
    and kissed all octopuses tongued out digging in & caressed by coral & barnacles

    the sun king has invited us to stay
    has invited us to breed
    has invited us to love
    invited us to war
    invited us to shed blood like rivers do flow
    invited us to spill dust boned crushed into bowls spread the land grown green brown at autumn
    falling leaves collected by those who give a fuck
    some rake
    some burn brown yellow
    some navigate as giant waves carry them deep and off
    the golden thrones are always ready to accept one’s mighty axe and his beauty’s mystical charm
    for poetry through the ceiling. ISBN: 1 4241 8840 7

    "Hear me, my chiefs!
    I am tired; my heart is
    sick and sad. From where
    the sun stands I will fight
    no more forever."

    Chief Joseph - Nez Perce
  • "i love writing. why a poet has words? why feel world winds in your very own inner tunnel? more importantly a struggle inside screaming & digging & gnawing & clawing, stinging me repeatedly with decades of torture right in my jugular directly flowing into my spinal cord & brain stem where there are trillions of impulses firing grinding me down to nothing as singers cry for me"

    Yes, I too feel this except for the " I love writing" part, not there yet, I love your writiing, thank you
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