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PostPosted: Fri Mar 30, 2007 12:03 pm
by Zarn Ishtare
So, as long as I don't lose interest in the next hour or so, I'll be writing something; something great.

T.S. Elliots "The Wastland and other writings" is the best thing I've ever read. Go Metaphysical poets!

PostPosted: Fri Mar 30, 2007 1:59 pm
by Zarn Ishtare

the vehicle prostrated

upon the back of our ingenue, our tragedian.

the glasses were stained, but not shaded

the black fedora was crumpled and broken

The Wasteland sprang from his hands

a thousand pages on the april gusts

from the hands of the Somnambulist

And the son of the son thereof

The fickle dove rose above the sorrows

from the perch of one who saw no tommorows

the body of our ingenue, our tragedian

as he lay

a halo of life flowed and faded

but he lay still


unbent and unbroken

he rises

eyes clear

they (the) crowd sympathizes

and cheers

calling "Oh Herculean Peer!"

"Defy for us mortal fear!"

PostPosted: Fri Mar 30, 2007 6:58 pm
by Althaia
ooooooooo neat one zarn by the way you haven't forgotten about the bard thread in goofoff have you??

PostPosted: Fri Mar 30, 2007 8:52 pm
by USSRGirl
You like T.S. Elliot's The Wasteland?!!!!!!!!!!!! I take back every bad thing I ever said about you. Oooh how I love T.S.'s depressing pyschotic poetry. Have you read the one about the hippo that gets raptured?

Anywho, nice poem. Tis meant to symbolize the fearlessness/enduringness of poets/artists in a world where they are increasingly fading perhaps? Just my interpretation. The line "the glasses were stained, but not shaded" seems to imply that art/poetry/spirit is dying but not dead.

PostPosted: Sat Mar 31, 2007 10:18 am
by Anna Mae
Zarn wrote:I'm going to go search for Jesus. I'll let you know when I find him.
What do you mean by that?

PostPosted: Sat Mar 31, 2007 12:46 pm
by Zarn Ishtare
Anna Mae wrote:What do you mean by that?

Exactly how it sounds.

Temmy...Well, I suppose it could be that, but I was more thinking of the disturbing, almost lovecraftian feelings behind the poem...the poem is only there to get acess to those feelings, I suppose.

PostPosted: Sat Mar 31, 2007 3:11 pm
by Photosoph
Great poem; I really like how it ends. Lol; of course I'm not saying that as in 'I like the fact that it ended' XD, but rather, I like what happened in the last couple of lines 'Our Herculean peer!" etc. ^^

I like the first part too, but I have to admit that grasping its meaning and understanding a lot of the 'big words' :sweat: was a bit above me.

PostPosted: Sat Mar 31, 2007 3:12 pm
by USSRGirl
Hmm well... all poetry is open to multiple interpretations. Cthulhu! Aww! :: Huggles my creepy little possessed Cthulhu plushies ::

PostPosted: Sun Apr 01, 2007 12:21 am
by Zarn Ishtare
Her hands like flowers extended upward towards the sun

her hands are battered, blue and dun

her cries have shattered, glass and night

her shadow extinquished light and sight

propped up pillows, the ingenue

endures the excrutiating avenue

of hospitals

and the smell

of people

sent to die.

De Luit "Sarah, Sorry" ("Version First")

PostPosted: Sun Apr 01, 2007 12:26 am
by Zarn Ishtare
Giving up

The legions laid to rust

Centurions bust upon the stairs

as the mansion of time repairs

to reflect the conquerer coming after

stronger that night, higher than laughter

Where Romans trampled

tender steps have come behind

Where Power was

Penance was left behind.

And he rode behind

and comforted each in turn

And spread fire into mouths

so others might learn

when he

was gone.

"The Nails that follow Iron Feet" (Conquerer Comes After), De Luit

PostPosted: Sun Apr 01, 2007 12:29 am
by Zarn Ishtare
The dying eyes of those who cannot smile

kiss me with their sight, winsomly appraising

a cheerful beggar in rainbows clad

image offset by a dreary tone

and shadowed, remorseful saxaphone

what ate the light and rushed the day

How Could it? "No, I could not say."

Unbridled Mixing Metaphors: Explained Not, De Luit.

PostPosted: Mon Apr 02, 2007 12:57 pm
by Zarn Ishtare
every tear left unshed

every time I looked down

never seeing the skies above

always drinking the poison

always breathing the fury

always living like this.

God, take these broken words and scattered thoughts and make them a prayer.

Did I worship an inside God?

Is my Savior located in my throat?

Have I worshipped the rising and falling of my own spirit?

I am curious

does God reside merely in my mind?

When shall I look outside of myself

when shall the prison walls no longer bind?


PostPosted: Mon Apr 02, 2007 4:50 pm
by Photosoph
Wow. More amazing, thought-provoking poetry, Zarn.

PostPosted: Wed Apr 04, 2007 9:54 am
by goldenspines
Yes, indeed. More wonderful, thought-provoking poetry. I like the first one in your last post the best (I'm assuming they're separate). It has a nice rhythm to it.

PostPosted: Thu Apr 05, 2007 8:30 pm
by USSRGirl
Very interesting. Chaotic yet thoughtful. ^__^

PostPosted: Mon Apr 09, 2007 4:58 pm
by Anna Mae
In the third line of "Sarah, Sorry" I would eliminate the comma, assuming that you mean that glass and night have been shattered by her cries.

You have a good message in "The Nails that follow Iron Feet" (Conquerer Comes After), and I especially liked the phrase 'The legions laid to rust.'

I also appreciate that last poem you posted (I assume it's all one). The first stanza is a nice idea. The second line of the second stanza also caught my interest. And, I am baffled by your ending.

PostPosted: Mon Apr 09, 2007 7:00 pm
by Zarn Ishtare
To explain what it meant..hmm. I don't really want to. One can only cry out through the silent passages of language, trying to capture the feelings of the lack of understanding, the feeling of being overwhelmed by unknowing, of standing on the cliff as the wave of light rushes to meet you, the end of all things behind....


PostPosted: Wed Apr 11, 2007 10:54 pm
by Zarn Ishtare
“Nonsense Words: Of Prestidigitation.â€

PostPosted: Thu Apr 12, 2007 12:45 pm
by Althaia
:O zarn you are a De Luit fan too SWEET!! me and my dad read those some timesi like Waifs and Strays i think its called

PostPosted: Thu Apr 12, 2007 2:00 pm
by Photosoph
You know I love all your poems, Zarn -but after reading “Christ Mythologyâ€

PostPosted: Fri Apr 13, 2007 7:09 pm
by Zarn Ishtare
Actually, Raven, I had no idea that was someone's name.

Photo, I really don't know how I got better. I figured different things out, I read different things, I got inspired by different things. I took a few words from a song, made a poem from them, I listened to music and wanted to write like that, etc, etc.

PostPosted: Fri Apr 13, 2007 7:56 pm
by Althaia
you didn't :o*is shocked* if you don't know him go to your public library and ask about Charles de Luit i believe

PostPosted: Sat Apr 14, 2007 9:26 am
by Zarn Ishtare

PostPosted: Sat Apr 14, 2007 1:09 pm
by Zarn Ishtare
Romeo enters the tomb. They Fight. Paris Falls.

PostPosted: Sat Apr 14, 2007 5:27 pm
by Althaia
xD Zarn like your poem but the romeo thing was random

PostPosted: Tue Apr 17, 2007 10:08 pm
by Zarn Ishtare
Raven wrote:xD Zarn like your poem but the romeo thing was random

It was.

to explain, "Simplicity" was originally an odd continuence of one of my first poems in this thread, "Dust And The Moon". It sort of grew out of it, then was cut off because it had nothing to do with DATM.

I've been re-discovering alot of old poems that I never posted/finished, so I'm working on a few, or putting some out to see how people like it.

Simplicity is one of my older poems, if one looks pre-thread through my poetry, you'll notice the style is the same, long, dragging langauge. I would have a thought, then write the thought, then extend really dragged, but it was interesting.

PostPosted: Thu Apr 19, 2007 12:50 am
by Zarn Ishtare
"I sit inside the walled town,

observing the wintry flakes

as I stretch upon my pallet

the downy tears wet my reed seat

as the noiseless winter upon me falls

like a beggar sitting in his castle walls."

"Winter In A Walled Town", De Luit.

"I gnash my teeth of glass

as I dreamt of laying about in bed

I wandered the pathway ethereal

trying to find the thought

unruined by the passage and colors of time.

"One Bed, Two Worlds" De Luit."

Like streamers in the air

As confetti on the breeze

So I throw this world away.

"Everything Is As Ribbons In The Air", De Luit.

"I'm watching the purple pour from the parchment

yes, that grape-spilled desire only fortifies the stain

the color of kings pressed from the paper

rolling from the pitcher to a new container."

"The Flowing Colour Purple" De Luit.

"Light kissed clouds play about my perch

My feet firm on the mount of Isolation

Peaking down at the world around me

At this time of night, I need some contentment!

But all is calm in solitude's spire

All is quiet in the Loneliness of the evening

If you reached your hands towards my peak

All you'd grasp is sunshine

As these cotton-ball rain clouds pass me by

running like water from the broken vessel

flowing like thoughts from a broken mind

I reach down

and grasp all around

and with a sigh, I try and pull it down.

But no one can touch me in this world without love

no arms towards my mountains, hands raised

no voices pierce the cold spaces in the crevices

I figure myself alone in the mother of snows.

As the air escapes me

as the snows fall down on my peak of isolation

I try and grasp the light

and my hands, swallowing it

envelope me in night."

"The Clean Mountain" De Luit.

"But a breath against my neck

a whisper in the snow-fall

the slightest embrace from the winds

and I am set back to wondering again."

"End of Clean Mountain" De Luit.

PostPosted: Thu Apr 19, 2007 1:16 am
by Zarn Ishtare
I'm posting this, my first Best poem, what I believe to be my oldest GOOD poem. It's been on these boards before, but with the readership I've currently accrued, I think it's ok to post some old stuff on here...and this is particular poem is sorta the grandaddy of all my other ones. I've never quite managed to write in this style again, and honestly, I haven't really tried.

Well, here it is, without much need for introduction....

The song of the StormCrow..."

This Crow Flies South

Storm is raging outside.

What is in the midst of it?

Who dares to fly?

It is the STORMCROW...

Child of Thunder, Brother to Lightning, A companion to the Winds...

See how he battles with the storm, flying straight into its heart.

How does he fly with such winds about him? How does he survive?

It is in his blood...For he must fly, Fly with his other-self, fly with the storm...

For to fly in the midst of the tempest is his Destiny.

Arashi no Tenshi, Blood of Ancient Storm, Master of black wings, Fly.

Kiss the Storm Maiden, embrace the bitter showers. Race the Clouds, touch the Stars,

And finally, Finally...Find Home.

The Song of the Stormcrow...Flight without Wings, Sight without Eyes, Tell all truth, Banish all Lies.

PostPosted: Fri Apr 20, 2007 1:07 pm
by Photosoph
Very good. I actually liked all the short pieces; there's something so neat about reading something succint, but thought/imagination-provoking which starts and ends so quickly, yet says so much.

I've also noticed that I enjoy how you put your titles at the end of the pieces -it almost makes for another line, or expansion/explanation on the poem. It's cool.

'The song of the storm crow' is definitely effective. Its vivid, striking imagery, with such... what's the word... hmm... something like vividness with the clashing sound of thunder with lightning, if that could be caught up in a word... is really striking. A beautiful, engaging poem, though my only critique is that the first two lines are quite slow and lack the impact of the others, especially as an intro. Other than that, it's a beautiful piece, very well written and, like I said before, engaging. ^_^

PostPosted: Fri Apr 20, 2007 8:30 pm
by USSRGirl
I think I remember reading Song of the Stormcrow before. Curious, how long ago did you write it? The style/feel seems to be more mythology and less contemporary than your newer poems. Not that contemporary is a bad thing.