My writing

[sedge]

I prefer Haiku;

A man at the zoo.
There was only a dog there.
It was a shit-zu.

Sedge.

[froggyfrenchman]

Nah mate ain't got one. Wait till they renew them so pay $90 and get a full season till next time. Well me and dad got the CT and the GS so should be good. You going down early to help sweep?

Depends on the sleep factor, just finnished a 87hr week. the most sleep i got any night this week was 4hrs!

[thealmightytaco]

Here's my abstract train-of-thought stylings, dredged from a few years back now. However I don't believe in poetry that takes longer than 2 minutes to write...


Race Little Flange Crab

Race
Race you little flange crab
I've seen you run
How so slow
Idle like my sunken boat
Best be workin' it
Work it like a jazzed up morepork

For therein lies the reward

Race
Race you little flange crab


Bread Flower

I love the smell
The taste
The feeling
Of bread on my eye

If I can't sleep
A little butter

If I can't read
A little hole

If I can't walk
I brown over and shrivel

I love the smell
The taste
The feeling
of chrysanthemums


Geoffrey's Pastries

Eaten regularly
A good pastry can drive you to town
Little or no maintenace
On the bumpers
But unfortunately one Sunday
The steering wheel
Was lost

Tables on rigid
Smiles for the elderly
Next year my sweet
Next year

[jazbug5]

Erse....

at least 10 characters.

[jazbug5]

..And move along. Because there is nothing to see here.

[hXc]

Sorry to pull this thread up from the depths of below, but here's a new one.


I don't want to be coy,
But to say what I'm about to do
Would not be cool.
Let's just leave it at that.

If the world is black, it's black,
Whether you complain
Or collaborate by silence.

Even if people liked me,
I wouldn't like them.
I would just have to watch them
Being mean to people
And not say anything.
Because to say anything
Would not be cool.
Let's just leave it at that.

You're not going to change the world,
Whether you complain
Or collaborate by silence.

I travel often to the frozen heart of the world,
Inland to that Antarctic, rock-strewn desert
With a few dozen warm-blooded penguins wandering around
Lost, dazed, dejected.
That's the way things are deep down under.

I'm never going to change things,
Whether I complain
Or collaborate by silence.

Let's just leave it at that.

[Hitcher]

A much more fitting repository that TLOTPIHGAD.

Nice work, by the way.

[hXc]

Thank you, kid sir. Does one have any poetry of the new?

[Hitcher]

You may have to explain that last one. Must be lack of "emo" on my part...

[hXc]

You may have to explain that last one. Must be lack of "emo" on my part...

Do you have any new poetry? I thought that you'd understand my attempt at sounding 'so-fist-tik-ated' (sophisticated - for us sophisticated ones).

[Hitcher]

I haven't written poetry for years. My head is now too full of other people's stuff for me to hear my muse. I haven't concertedly read any for a while either. I think the last poet I read to death was Sam Hunt. His early stuff is great, his later stuff much more angry and bitter.

Poetry is still one of my favourite forms of written expression, particularly the stuff that's (well) written to a set format, like Haiku or the Sonnet.

Or other stuff that's just bloody good:

Oh! I have slipped the surly bonds of earth
And danced the skies on laughter-silvered wings;
Sunward I've climbed, and joined the tumbling mirth
Of sun-split clouds - and done a hundred things

You have not dreamed of - wheeled and soared and swung
High in the sunlit silence. Hov'ring there
I've chased the shouting wind along, and flung
My eager craft through footless halls of air.

Up, up the long delirious, burning blue,
I've topped the windswept heights with easy grace
Where never lark, or even eagle flew -
And, while with silent lifting mind I've trod
The high unsurpassed sanctity of space,
Put out my hand and touched the face of God.

"High flight", by Pilot Officer John Gillespie Magee (1922-1941), RCAF.

[candor]

Hxc, Sorry about your froiend and family member. Thats horrible - a heart attack at that age. I too am overfamiliar with death. Everyone I dated cancer or suicide or accidental death, nextdoor neighbours shooting accident, fiance died unexpectdly, all closest friends got cancer or other terminal illness,(one in remission only) and mother killed in car crash. Luckily the dog has a few years in him.

So when they add up (round 8 close people or more that it wasn't their time in my case)and you have faced as many losses as a geriatric or say your Nana who is 70 yes you begin to feel persecuted, unlucky and even cursed. Or on the other hand lucky - to not be one of them!

But anyway I take it as a message that if the theme tune to my life has been made death then I must have a job to do in that arena. And it turns out I have landed in a job in that arena. No I did not fall into undertaking either!

OK my gut comments since you asked. You are very talented first off. Are you in school with strong performing arts. Burnside in CHCH (my school) good.

Dislike first. Just the holocaust one. The word chain did not evoke either a strong mental picture or feeling for me. Nor any original insights. I think holocaust terms have lost power thru overuse and sound cliched (yawn).

Liked - Somewhere in the night because the ending was an uplifting relief and finished with hope unexpectedly.
For us there is no death as it was thought provoking as some fresh word combinations. Sounded romantic and captured that bliss young love amnd this will never be repeated perfection feeling
Fantasy and Reality - liked tho it was almost formulaic, did not matter though as repetition with a twist was effective. It evoked that feeling of security in childhood and the thought "be careful what you wish for"
I wake alone - liked it as could relate. Its got the stamp of realness and common for pining in grief at night time. And it talked about symptoms of Trauma - grief or Post Traumatic Stress or Stress disorder which are common for victims of unexpected death eg seeing someones pained face, as in poem.
Often when teens lose close people they can get a feeling or sense of a foreshortened future - that they must hurry to squeeze things in may result.
Sounds like your losses have resulted in heightened or acute perception for your age.

[hXc]

I really enjoyed some work that someone posted on here a while ago. It was from the early 1900's era and I thought it was awesome. I can't for the life of me remeber any of it, or the poet, or the poster. And KB isn't being any help with the search function. Grrr, darn memory is shocking these days.

[hXc]

For us there is no death as it was thought provoking as some fresh word combinations. Sounded romantic and captured that bliss young love amnd this will never be repeated perfection feeling

I wake alone - liked it as could relate. Its got the stamp of realness and common for pining in grief at night time. And it talked about symptoms of Trauma - grief or Post Traumatic Stress or Stress disorder which are common for victims of unexpected death eg seeing someones pained face, as in poem.

Often when teens lose close people they can get a feeling or sense of a foreshortened future - that they must hurry to squeeze things in may result.
Sounds like your losses have resulted in heightened or acute perception for your age.

For Us There Is No Death would be my favourite poem, haven't really looked through for all possible meanings etc for the new one, although I have a feeling it will take it's place. But For Us There Is No Death is about the grave yard that in recent times, when I have read over it, has brought images of Meeckal's grave site. It's weird 'cause it was written well before his death, but if it has come to mean his grave site to me, then so be it.

I Wake Alone was me being unhappy with being alone. Waking up every morning, going to school and hoping for someone to love me for who I am and be with me. Not necessarily a female, nor a relationship as it may portray. It was just me waking up every morning alone and somehow empty.


My losses have certainly given me a lot of inspiration for my writing, among other things too. Not all my writing has come from my losses, but a lot of it has. So in some ways they are a good thing, as they give me inspiration to write, which is something I love doing, but don't get a lot of time to do.

As I said in Motoracer's thread about suicide, Meeckal's tragic death has matured me a lot, but left me empty and missing something in my life. He was a great friend and I miss him so much, still to this day. I don't know if I'll be able to visit his resting place on the 14th (1 year to the day) but if I do, I sure will be posting about the experience in a poetic way.

[Hitcher]

How we deal with tragedy and the inevitablity of our own mortality is largely what defines us as people. Our own lives are a precious and powerful talent. We should never undervalue them.