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| menace64 |
 Posted: Fri Nov 02, 2007 8:02 am |
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Joined: 12 Apr 2006
Posts: 836
Location: Wichita, Kansas
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I’ve been writing poetry for many years now, and I’d like to say I’ve gotten pretty good at it. I’ve started converting lots of them into more lyrical formats in order to use them in a band I’m forming with my oldest brother (holy cow, he can play guitar!).
I dunno. I feel compelled to post this one here. I’m really proud of it; if y’all like it and would like to read some more, I’ll gladly post them!
Edit:
Guys, just to let you all know, this is *not* some sad, sob-sob emo song. As with every poem or lyric I write, there are several different meanings running throughout, and what you see at face value is not necessarily what you think. What I’m most proud of with this poem is its rhythm, its meter. It sounds good when read aloud, and it will sound amazing in a song. Please think of it first like that, and if you want to extract a meaning from it, extract the meaning that applies to you and your life. That’s the wonderful thing about poetry... it means something special to every person who reads it.
Yes. I’m a geek for this stuff.
Supersedenia
pronounced super∙see∙denia (a word I made up to express a state I was in not long ago)
Vanquished and languished, redubbed and I’m subbed.
There’s somebody else that’s speaking for me.
I’ll call this situation, I’ll call it supersedenia.
Replaced before a trace, to who are we lyin’?
Seven stacks of hope and then one misplaced.
Scrawled on a wall there’s a motive for duress
And through it all how the hell can I do less?
Supersedenia, super-see me cryin’.
Super sad denial, standing faceless at the trial.
Every fringe of life is forming shapes, forming better
The blooming bud is figment, now we’re falling together.
And if in my situation, you’d call it supersedenia
For it’s hopeless to sink and you can’t soar higher.
Seven tracks of rope and then one misplaced.
Scrawled on a wall there’s a motive for duress
And through it all how the hell can I do less?
Supersedenia, super-see me cryin’.
Super sad denial, standing faceless at the trial.
All roads have been traveled. I know all routes.
Every future is exhumed already. Several mutes.
Supersedenia… no paths worth tryin’.
Supersedenia… no souls worth findin’.
Thanks for reading.  |
Riddle 9
When I came to Abraham I let him live just a moment longer. When I came to Moses I saved his life more than once. But the salmon... I regret to say I had a hand in its death.
Who am I? |
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| bobtheorc |
| Posted: Fri Nov 02, 2007 3:18 pm |
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Joined: 19 Mar 2006
Posts: 1218
Location: Wow, its hot in Iowa
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| menace64 |
| Posted: Fri Nov 02, 2007 3:26 pm |
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Joined: 12 Apr 2006
Posts: 836
Location: Wichita, Kansas
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Well, I’d be more than happy too.
This one is on the other side of the spectrum. This is - on the surface - about the refusal to kill anything (that’s what Ahimsa means). There’s a lot more to it, though.
Ahimsa
Let nobody move,
Trails of soldiers all around you.
Practice pillage, practice slaughter
Perfection personifying the rushing water.
This frenzy all around the jading blue
It’s killing me, it’s killing you.
Effort, endeavor, yearning forever
Ahimsa shutter. Ahimsa for her.
The permutation
War for none, but change to shun.
Killer-man comes from dark and blur
Sweeping fields to be deterred.
Falling, crying, stepping, sighing.
Lazy orphans dangling from the trees.
Slipping, stopping, silver crossing.
Hollow callers empty on the breeze.
This frenzy all around the jading blue
It’s killing me, it’s killing you.
Effort, endeavor, yearning forever
Ahimsa flutter. Ahimsa for her. |
Riddle 9
When I came to Abraham I let him live just a moment longer. When I came to Moses I saved his life more than once. But the salmon... I regret to say I had a hand in its death.
Who am I? |
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| NBarden |
| Posted: Fri Nov 02, 2007 3:35 pm |
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Joined: 28 Dec 2006
Posts: 5468
Location: I don't know...
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| AgentDrake |
| Posted: Fri Nov 02, 2007 3:52 pm |
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Joined: 01 Apr 2007
Posts: 667
Location: Halfway between eccentric and insane...
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What’s so great about happy, anyhow? 
*goes back and reads them again*
Dang... that is depressing 
Very good, though.  for being a much better poet than I am.... |
| Never kid about politicians. The more bizarre the joke, the more likely it is to come true. |
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| menace64 |
| Posted: Fri Nov 02, 2007 3:55 pm |
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Joined: 12 Apr 2006
Posts: 836
Location: Wichita, Kansas
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Gosh, it’s a tall order to make something *less* depressing than nobody killing anything. But you asked, so I’ll try.
Here’s a pretty old one of mine. And if this doesn’t satisfy, I think I have one that’ll do it for sure.
A Walk Through Time
Omega becomes the night long past.
Alpha happens tomorrow, ever-last.
All days withheld, all days will meld
Into a single moment, a tale to tell.
Let’s walk together for just an hour
Roam for weekends: we will never cower.
A walk through time could never be so sweet
When a pair of hearts is skipping beat.
Dreams to daylight in the summer’s eve
For those to die we will always grieve.
But just for once let’s settle in the present now
Now forever, now’s for now.
Let’s walk together, a walk through time.
A walk through your world, a walk through mine.
As the new day begins our hands align
Time stands still, every thought behind.
As the new day begins our hands align
Time stands still, every wish behind. |
Riddle 9
When I came to Abraham I let him live just a moment longer. When I came to Moses I saved his life more than once. But the salmon... I regret to say I had a hand in its death.
Who am I? |
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| AgentDrake |
| Posted: Fri Nov 02, 2007 4:03 pm |
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Joined: 01 Apr 2007
Posts: 667
Location: Halfway between eccentric and insane...
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Now, see, that’s cheery.
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| Never kid about politicians. The more bizarre the joke, the more likely it is to come true. |
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| Celebrimbor |
| Posted: Fri Nov 02, 2007 4:53 pm |
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Joined: 12 Sep 2006
Posts: 953
Location: UNKNOWN
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I almost shed some tears reading the others.
I like this one the best. u r a good poem writer, m64. |
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| bobtheorc |
| Posted: Fri Nov 02, 2007 7:52 pm |
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Joined: 19 Mar 2006
Posts: 1218
Location: Wow, its hot in Iowa
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| menace64 |
| Posted: Fri Nov 02, 2007 8:04 pm |
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Joined: 12 Apr 2006
Posts: 836
Location: Wichita, Kansas
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Hahah! Oh my... you reminded me...
Yes, I have.
Back during sophomore year of high school (so 5 years ago) we were doing the poetry unit, and had to write a poem based on a book we’d read recently.
I, of course just finishing LotR, wrote this and read it to the class. Note that my school was very ganster/gangland, so I tried tipping things that way as best I could. Made for a lot of laughs.
Frodo Lives!
Frodo was a Hobbit who lived in a hole.
He lived richly and well; not like a mole.
One day Gandalf said Frodo’s special ring,
Was none other than the Dark Lord Sauron’s personal bling.
So off Frodo went with his three best friends,
To Rivendell they traveled, right around some bends.
They picked up Aragorn along the way
And with him they never went astray.
Once in Rivendell with all good guys,
A council they had on how to destroy Sauron’s prize.
No one wanted to go to Mordor,
So Frodo signed up for the deadly chore.
Frodo left the haven with eight good others,
Of different races; not commonly brothers.
They walked a while and with grim faces,
They all lost count after ten-thousand paces.
While underground in Khazad-dum,
Or Moria for you non-Dwarf-speaking few,
They encountered a Balrog who wanted the Ring,
And Gandalf sacrificed himself to save the bling.
Stricken with grief and wanting to quit,
The wounded party chilled for a bit.
They stopped in Lorien, the land of the living,
And there they rested with feasts of giving.
They then borrowed some boats and started floating.
Downstream they went and they started gloating.
Some Orcs surprised them and wanted to fight,
So little Frodo took his Sam and hung a right.
Separated from the others and without a clue,
They were stranded in a land of rocks and dew.
Upon chance Gollum found the Hobbits and led them out,
Into miles of marshes with only him as a scout.
Little did the Hobbits know,
Was that Gollum wanted to bash Frodo’s skull.
Gollum was after his Precious, the Ring,
And he’d do anything to reclaim his bling.
One morning later the Hobbits found Faramir,
And the Man called their appearances very queer.
Then he learned of Frodo’s quest
And warned them not to travel west.
Next came the winding stairs that went so high,
And there Sam learned of how Gollum wanted Frodo to die.
Sam tried his hardest to save the day,
But Shelob came and stung all hope away.
Growing pale and wrapped in web,
Sam left Frodo behind, leaving him for dead.
He took the Ring and went on his own,
Only to discover that Frodo was alive but alone.
Soon enough Sam found Frodo at the top of a tower,
Stripped of all clothes and beaten empty of power.
Frodo thought that the Orcs had taken the Ring,
But Sam said no and gave back to him the bling.
They escaped together and went to Mount Doom;
The one place where the Ring would go boom.
Gollum bit off Frodo’s finger and reclaimed his jewel,
But he fell into the volcano – his fate was cruel.
After much toil and talk of the past
The powers of evil fell on its ass.
Frodo with the help of others had saved the day
But felt sad and left with Gandalf to the bay.
At that time they both boarded a boat
Which seemed too majestic to even float.
But away it went into the west
And ending this poem at its very best. |
Riddle 9
When I came to Abraham I let him live just a moment longer. When I came to Moses I saved his life more than once. But the salmon... I regret to say I had a hand in its death.
Who am I? |
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