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Anyone like poetry? Options
 
Jakup
#1 Posted : 9/5/2015 5:00:27 PM

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I figure some of you like-minded folks might be entertained by my meanderings, so I'm going to share a few poems.


"Lunch-Break Vitality" (written on a lunch break)

Meet me at the back of my mind.
Oh, don't mind me.

I'm in the grips of the same trance,
where inspiration always seems to find me.

Crunching out poems like self-centered lullabies
to feed my ego.

Am I more than some mechanism established to protect this vessel?

It's almost like thinking about death,
too much to hold in the mind's eye,
as if I'm lying to myself on the most fundamental level.

I'm not what I think I am.



"This Process of Becoming"

Keep peace in your hands.
Sensibility is always within reach.
Negativity is pointless.

Keep an eye on your thoughts.
Peace is in our hands,
reason is always within reach.
It's all in what you realize.

Broken by fear,
As life becomes death,
Who knows?

A life wasted in thought,
alone in principle.
Quick to forget,
but lost in memories.

Grudges and glimpses of beauty,
Lost causes.
New attempts at freedom,
new ideas holding sway over consciousness.

I'm lost in a sea of sensation,
bringing it home with the breath.
Appreciate this moment.


"Crisis of Consciousness" (From 2013)

This vessel,
moving in and moving on
to new fears and dreams.

Awake and alive,
alone and wandering,
wishing and ranting.

What am I trying to gain?
I'm splitting open into daydreams.
Am I nonsense?
While captivated, unmotivated,
unmentioned and bashful.

Equal parts wasted life and
meandering thoughts.
Add a dash of wonder.
Sit still and ponder.

There's nothing to ease discontent's
heavy breath on the back of neck.

I'm ashamed.




Let me know what you think.



Always
 

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Lichen
#2 Posted : 9/5/2015 11:28:47 PM

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Last visit: 06-Oct-2022
I really like the last one - you have a very acute, perceptive sense of the subtle frames of mind - and I can definitely relate. I like your vocab.
I am a piece of knowledge-retaining computer code imitating an imaginary organic being.
 
TGO
#3 Posted : 9/5/2015 11:38:19 PM

Music is alive and in your soul. It can move you. It can carry you. It can make you cry! Make you laugh. Most importantly, it makes you feel! What is more important than that?

Welcoming committee

Posts: 2562
Joined: 02-May-2015
Last visit: 04-Sep-2023
Location: Lost In A Dream
Jakup wrote:

Crunching out poems like self-centered lullabies
to feed my ego.


Very happy

Cool

Love

Very nice! I like your style!
New to The Nexus? Check These Out:



One Fish Two Fish Red Fish Blue Fish

 
Metanoia
#4 Posted : 9/6/2015 12:59:29 AM

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Right on, I love reading poetry. Writing it, not so much Laughing

I'll share a couple of my favorites:

Quote:
The Veils of Maya by George William Russell
MOTHER, with whom our lives should be,
Not hatred keeps our lives apart:
Charmed by some lesser glow in thee,
Our hearts beat not within thy heart.


Beauty, the face, the touch, the eyes,
Prophets of thee, allure our sight
From that unfathomed deep where lies
Thine ancient loveliness and light.


Self-found at last, the joy that springs
Being thyself, shall once again
Start thee upon the whirling rings
And through the pilgrimage of pain.


Quote:
The Conqueror Worm
BY EDGAR ALLAN POE
Lo! ’t is a gala night
Within the lonesome latter years!
An angel throng, bewinged, bedight
In veils, and drowned in tears,
Sit in a theatre, to see
A play of hopes and fears,
While the orchestra breathes fitfully
The music of the spheres.

Mimes, in the form of God on high,
Mutter and mumble low,
And hither and thither fly—
Mere puppets they, who come and go
At bidding of vast formless things
That shift the scenery to and fro,
Flapping from out their Condor wings
Invisible Wo!

That motley drama—oh, be sure
It shall not be forgot!
With its Phantom chased for evermore
By a crowd that seize it not,
Through a circle that ever returneth in
To the self-same spot,
And much of Madness, and more of Sin,
And Horror the soul of the plot.

But see, amid the mimic rout,
A crawling shape intrude!
A blood-red thing that writhes from out
The scenic solitude!
It writhes!—it writhes!—with mortal pangs
The mimes become its food,
And seraphs sob at vermin fangs
In human gore imbued.

Out—out are the lights—out all!
And, over each quivering form,
The curtain, a funeral pall,
Comes down with the rush of a storm,
While the angels, all pallid and wan,
Uprising, unveiling, affirm
That the play is the tragedy, “Man,”
And its hero, the Conqueror Worm.


I read Poe's poetry every Halloween, it's a tradition Smile That and a screening of Rocky Horror Picture Show Thumbs up
 
Godsmacker
#5 Posted : 9/6/2015 2:36:00 AM

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Last visit: 16-Apr-2018
I enjoyed reading your poems and hope to read many more. You got my upvote Thumbs up
'"ALAS,"said the mouse, "the world is growing smaller every day. At the
beginning it was so big that I was afraid, I kept running and running, and I was glad
when at last I saw walls far away to the right and left, but these long walls have
narrowed so quickly that I am in the last chamber already, and there in the corner
stands the trap that I must run into." "You only need to change your direction," said
the cat, and ate it up.' --Franz Kafka
 
Jakup
#6 Posted : 9/6/2015 7:05:24 PM

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Location: Around
Thanks guys.

And Metanoia thanks for showing me "The Veils of Maya." That's an amazing piece of work, I had never even heard of George William Russell.
Always
 
silent_presence
#7 Posted : 9/14/2015 1:34:47 AM
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Here's an ode to dimitry....
(Wrote it as a rap song actually)

Very happy

Sick and tired
Of my old damn ways
So caught up and wired
In these games I play
With the world outside
And my sisters and brothers
But mostly with myself
With God and the others

Living a lie, I try
To fake a state
With this mask I wear
I mostly manipulate
I turn you into other
And the we into the me
I even turn my own mother
To a secondary she

How could it be
that this child that was me
Turned into this cold
selfish power hungry fiend
How could this love
that I once gave for free
Turn into this hunger
I feel so desperately

When I scream here and wonder
If I'll ever work this out
I dont understand
If I should cry or fuckin shout
I feel im brimming in my anger
And swimming in my doubt
Where is the promised heaven
That the christ was talkin about?

Chorus

Instead waiting for the future
In all honesty
I'd rather step into the now
and smoke some dmt
Blast off to the realms of the unmanifest
Feel the truth in my soul
and the love in my chest
I ain't never gonna catch up
while running at this pace
unless I realize the love
that Inhabits this space

So you see my friend,
there ain't no you and me
There's only fields of awareness
and eternity

So blast off, blast off
Smoke some dmt
Blast off blast off
Smoke some DMT! <3
 
 
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