Post Mark When I'm Ready For Good-bye

In awe of better winks
strung out between four bed posts
I drained all that you endeared right here;
right here on your screen. Maybe if the world
could critique this I'd realize what's so vir(al)tuous
about me. I tried searching something else
to blare
-because this has been keyed in
-becausein higher wave lengths your monitor
-becausecouldn't process. Wrong programming,
-becauseI guess.
-because these half sane ramblings are
-becausestone age talk. Yes, this is sublime
-becausethat's why there's got to be a virus
-becauseand I tried to de-scramble,
-becausebut you pass coded it.
-because this is all I can write about;
-becausesome zero being my hero. If only
-becauseI could divide and recharge
-becausebut there's nothing worth less
-becausethan these scraps
and it's all I can write about!
YOU'RE ALL I CAN FUCKING WRITE ABOUT.

These variances are jolting, splitting, kicking
back greens and leaving Hell with the bill.
I uploaded an empire watching you wash it out
brimming over in laughter; yeah, I bet it's funny now.
Electrical impulses can't beat this heart right
and all I can think of are those damn sheets

and you
andstrung out
andpinning me
under four limbs yearning to be so endearing.
It was one of your finer moments and maybe
we got sidetracked by the screens' white noise
or something about editing the scene.
or somethinI loved you once.
or something aI loved you.

And so I write to you

only wanting more than the sidewalk treatment.
I knew you were nothing but the jingle in my pocket,
but it's singing to me sweet lullabies
of last nights parking lot.

Shh..
Okay, keep that head bobbing back and forth.

I thought I ought to spell out
the way I loved how you peeled off
my stockings but hooked on Phonics
only taught you to sound out
that head banging,
leg trembling contusion - just
what my booty phone dialed for.
(I'll pretend it wasn't a miscalling.)

,
Shannon

Ps. try not to leave smudges
on my windows this time?





Said She To The Catapiller.


Maybe sometime downstream I’ll remember today
was a good cause thought then lost in mid sway.
I can’t imagine the last time I didn’t analyze
a bottle and the next few hours were locked
in for the dry story telling.
Then again, I was never one really for disposing
of the worms on anything but paper
or in a glass assuming it can’t stare ashamed for me
or dispel skeletons from my cupboard most have
yet to catch scrawled at the bottom. They're too busy
lapping up the gorgeous indecency I left behind.

I’ve been flirting with the words to tell you…

I’ve been flirting with this cute idea…

I’ve been flirting with the broom closet
where we first started this free form escapade
hugging doors and eating dust
still reeking of you chasing it back
with the duck tape residue you forgot dismissed
on my mouth. Those sticky fingers
gumming up my tear ducts omiting where
this went from fancied to you reverberating
force. I sipped away the virginity of my sanity
for a turn in the wrong direction.
Yes, dear,
I see you through the looking glass, my ace of hearts
of this once wonderful land. Then I poured
the last drop hitting a dehydrated thought
as tunnel vision set in and everything
fell from my sleeves swimming through locked doors-

maybe I wasn’t suppose to chase the rabbit after all.

When You Cut The Rope Loose

Distrait clouds a sane mind.

[I once read somewhere
"I think that with a little bit of imagination
it's hard to be faithful,
but that with a huge amount of imagination
it may be possible.

I think that I don't have much imagination."
--and definitely not for you.]

But hats off to the tamer
whose words, even though shrieking
past my thoughts, waved a wand
bewitching neurons to switch passages
reconnecting patterns I believed I had hold of.
No amount of therapy
can pill-pop this away.
Does that take care of it?





Untitled

Such pristine brilliance!
I marked X and swung the ball
causing cataclysmic seduction
-----------plastic wrapped and zipped tight-
to contort the wailing to
moans. Your sweetness drip
moans. Your sweetness drip drip
moans. Your sweetness drip drip drips
off my metallic love giving it a glossy
polish. I knew you'd color my world in shades
I only dreamed about. Pumping me full
of dramatic impulses to wreck your perfection
against the hood of my car and as your head
snapped back from the final thrust
snapped back from the final thrust snapped back it died.
I only wished to clear the air
of your pompous thoughts and recreate
your beauty bare foot and bashful,
but as my hands cupped your cheeks
and the nails tasted skin with your perfumed
senses scattered across the gravel I realized

your glazed eyes no longer longed for me.

I Shouldn't Be Dealing With This Anymore

Awaken, babe- create doubt
evaporating facades. Gallant hate
iridescently jaded knick-knocks lies
mandated. Nauseated obviously,
people question re-endeavored strides.
This unknown vengeance walled xtremes
you zoned allegedly better. Changing direction
(evading false gratification)-
hesitancy indicates jumbled knowledge,
love. Many noted only prison; quarantined-
remaining silenced through unforgiving, vague
words xploring you zealously.





I Fucking Hated High School

Smiles fade on desks filed
away in yesteryear while classes change up
mates. Education floats passing fate
note by note. Late lips miss
marks vandalizing bathroom stalls, park
benches and create landmarks in "this is
forever" English class ballads. Cleaver
hints slipped by stalkers with perfumed stationary
swept down hallways often kept
by exes that wept and blackmailing janitors.

Originally Posted by Lovers Never Tell

It's all good.


Show Me Your Cards

The black blots on white cards,
each one a new world of expression
followed by a monotone,
iiiiiii“So…
iiiiiiiWhat do YOU see
iiiiiiiin this one?”


I iiiiiiiiiiii stare, studying
a girl walking though
falling cherry blossoms.
Her shadow r
iiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiu
iiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiin

iiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiin


iiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii
iiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiin

iiiiiiiiiiiiiiiig,
splotching the iridescent scene
with watery looks and pasted smiles,
as dyed-blue roses and baby’s breath
clip back ringlets. Her uneasy breathing
caught in the ribbon trailing off
a white, spring dress while bare feet bleed
from the orchard floor’s splinters.
A late thought topples her back;
iiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii iihe
iiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiileft
me.


The flash cards stop animating
my mind's movie, so my lips part
in a sigh as my sight drifts out to the windows.
“I see
iiiiiiiiiiiiiiinothing.”

I like the way that you wrote this poem with some of the words running off hehe and accenting them by setting them apart. I like the creative title with the subject. Some of the descriptions like "each one a new world of expression", "splotching the iridescent scene" and "Her uneasy breathing caught in the ribbon trailing off" i really liked too. I also like how you make it so i can picture her in detail and her reply to the man hehe.

And now for the part I'm not all that good with, critique, I'm of the opinion, say nice or say nothing at all so this is always hard for me, hehe. Maybe I'm just not used to this format but i found myself rereading it often to try and figure out which lines went with what and how they connected. Other wise well done :)

By the way, nice trick with the spacing. It was between two poems to post earlier and not knowing how to do that i posted the one i wasn't leaning towards. Oy i feel like i ramble so much sometimes lol

I have to say, I don't care if it's nice or not. I'm not going to go easy on anyone I critique because really it doesn't matter how you write it, if the doesn't agree; they don't agree. So say what you want. I need all the input I can get.

I don't quite understand what you mean by a problem with the spacing. To be quite honest, I think this was only the second one I experimented with this style. When I got such rave reviews I worked on it more to refine it until really it's hard to critique as the form takes up just as much power as the actual poem, making things hard to change and correct. lol

If you mean the last paragraph in my comment that wasn't a critique, that was a thank you for showing me how to do that so i could do it when i post my own poems. If that's not what you are referring to you'll have to tell me so i can try to explain it better.

Yeah i know you don't care if it's mean or not. That's probably the "meanest" review I've given. As i said, I'm no good at them, but I'm trying cause i know that's what you want. Most people i review are new writers so i try very hard not to hurt them, jsut give them a gentle nudge. Reviewing you is different though, trying to kick it up a notch hehe. Hope what i have to say helps.

Originally Posted by Lovers Never Tell

When Mother Nature Fell For The Fallen


It was...
It was...the summer of some year
It was...in some once upon a time
It was...celebrated green lady's life.
She leaned lazy
against the breeze on a hill
she claimed her mountain top throne.
Skimming the edge as the sun fell,
city lights clicking on in some secondary
musical;
click on
....click off
..........clap on
................blow ......out
a rhythmic silence from enegry savers
a rhyt and if they only knew how they lost
a rhyther; their maestro,
a rhytto sizzling lip locking tales.
Those long nights spent
dancing in wild grasses and standing
on the edge of that florencent cliff
blinding her from the highway below.
The honking knocking thoughts around
The honking knocking thoughts a
The honking knocking thoughts arou
a
about
aboutfall
about falling
about falling off
about falling off or
about fallin back
about fallia
abogainst
you
wishing grass leaves encasing her
would spread that same warmth.

youShe waited crowned in dasies
and dandilions wanting every
FLASH
Z I P
ZOOOMMM
to be you speeding in your damned glory.
Wanting
Wanting to drive off in those flickering
false stars; her earthy scent reminding you
of the castle you left behind
for a metal and motar celestial
light show below ground.

I really like this poem. The only part that i really can't follow and get lost in is the spaced out portions below "blinding her from the highway below". I'm not sure if that's because my mind can't seem to follow it or if it was a spacing issue on the site trying to post it.

Some of my favorite lines: "She leaned lazy against the breeze on a hill" love the mental picture i get of an almost goddess like woman reclining on air. And i liked how you described the lights. I could picture myself looking out and seeing all the house with lights doing that. I like the whole last stanza too. Very creative and well described.

Yea, I was actually extremely iffy on that spacing. Maybe if I do a break in the stanza between the two spacing parts it would help correct that, you think?

A-new-s_tory, please watch out for the double posting. I believe you've been reminded before, but it's not allowed unless at least five hours have passed since your last post, or if your thread has fallen off the front page of the forum. Setting up a permanent thread is also an exemption from the double posting rule. :yes: I went ahead and merged that double post for you. Thank you!

Originally Posted by Sizzla

A-new-s_tory, please watch out for the double posting. I believe you've been reminded before, but it's not allowed unless at least five hours have passed since your last post, or if your thread has fallen off the front page of the forum. Setting up a permanent thread is also an exemption from the double posting rule. :yes: I went ahead and merged that double post for you. Thank you!

Wait does that mean I can do an overhaul on this because I want my first post to be only an index and my second to be my rules and expectations from what the others comment on and all that then repost both those poems in their own seperate ones.

Originally Posted by A-new-s_tory

If you mean the last paragraph in my comment that wasn't a critique, that was a thank you for showing me how to do that so i could do it when i post my own poems. If that's not what you are referring to you'll have to tell me so i can try to explain it better.

It does.

And to tell you how that style works is easier said than done. If you've done SLAM poetry before the concept is better understood. See what you do is you take the poem (( for the long, seemingly random, spaces)) and read it out loud. Something when writing you'll still make pauses even inside of the line before a line break is needed. The space is considered an elongagted pause and the line breaks are actually used more as an ending of a complete thought, so to say, or where you could end on if you so choose.

The "falling" words are just a way to take something cliche and spice it up. Obviously, if I just said "running" without all the craziness it wouldn't look half as decent because of all the thick imagery I put in.

Other devices are heavily used in this style, too, and grammar is often bent. For instance in the poem Some Special & Meaningful Title Is Suppose To Go Here, you'll notice I even break mid-word to give it an visual effect. The word "you're" is now automatically going to be read as 'you are" because of the way you're brain will process it.

Brackets - [] - are used for outside thought. Kind of like when you babble on about something that has nothing to do with the poem, but still gives some type of insight, like an author's note to that speific part/line.

Then there's parathensis - ()- that are used to sometimes to take what you're saying and on to it as if it were thought, or spoken. Ex: I really think you're something speical (Ed). Notice it? Then also you can use it to play with words like:: "Is this real(ly what I want)." Or::"Vir(al)tous" - as a way to say something that's actually meant but is hidden in another word. Better example:: "You're thought filled with gore(gous) scenes."

There's Acrosstics. Yea know:::
H(e'll)
A(utomate)
T(he)
E(nd)


There's many more, but... honestly I can't remember them all unless I use them or show them. Really it's bascially you literally write it how you say it forcing the audience to read it the way it was meant to be read giving it that specific beat and flow.

So i see... I think there's only two poems i have ever written that i used something like that. And i had no idea what it was called when i used it. The one the words are all shifted off, not parts of words.

The other is a shape poem. I rarely post that one on forums though because it's so hard to get the shape right since hoards of space doesn't move anything and tab doesn't exist.

I think it could be fun to try some of those out.

Yea, I just got a challenge to write a shaped poem. :headdesk: So that'll be up soon enough after I'm revived from the mental shock of it.

That style of writing is fairly easy. It's just knowing how to place everything effectively and when too much is too much.

Originally Posted by Lovers Never Tell

Wait does that mean I can do an overhaul on this because I want my first post to be only an index and my second to be my rules and expectations from what the others comment on and all that then repost both those poems in their own seperate ones.

That you can. :yes: You have four posts in a row on the front page that you can edit in order to set up/revamp your thread. Let me know if you need more than four and I'll remove some posts so you can get more of yours on the front page.

If you do decide to post other people's poems in your set-up posts, be sure to put them in quote tags. :yes:

Originally Posted by Sizzla

That you can. :yes: You have four posts in a row on the front page that you can edit in order to set up/revamp your thread. Let me know if you need more than four and I'll remove some posts so you can get more of yours on the front page.

If you do decide to post other people's poems in your set-up posts, be sure to put them in quote tags. :yes:

And I am so doing all that right now!!!

And**** you;
your **eternal
petals permanently
at***tached have nev**er
whis**pered good-bye** at a
frost-bitten night. They know
only of the warmth between my
ribs. Pictured often half-blossomed in
a crack singled out as if you plot
in a lonesome cement sea.
Surely your skin pollinates
the air in a sweeter
perfume. Your

deli-
cate
stem

*****************************************stretc***hing*****forth

to me it’s**green**limbs, but
still your **eyes**shine fierce
inside***whisk***ing away
my**breath.**Still,
there
lies
more
hiber-
nating
and
I am
slave
to
their
find-
ings.

case closed and handcuffed


I was a closet romantic
until you walked in and ousted me
placing jurisdiction with your open door policy
that now swings both ways. In passing,
I defended myself giving evidence
that romantics don't come equipped
with schematics so excuse me
if I fondle my way through.
I need to peel you away;
get to that ripeness,
and lick the sweetness off my lips
before I clear my through for my heart.
Speaking of putting our heads together,
see, I was playing with home chemistry sets
trying to make sense of this,
but that shit didn't mix right
and smoke screened my vision
until you proped open the window.
By then, though,
I was star struck wanting nothing more
than to hear you moan-
I mean,
preach to me this testimony.
Baby, I'll plead guilty
if it means I have a home to go to.
Believe me, I was willing
to take the time when I said, "I love you, too."

Nice work here--I can tell you're very studied in the art of poetry. Are you a creative writing major, perchance? Anyway, I don't know what to look at first! Let's just start with this...

case closed and handcuffed


I was a closet romantic
until you walked in and ousted me

Why not outed? Believe me, here it doesn't act as a cliche. "Ousted" makes me think of leaders of South American nations removed from power. ("oust - remove from a position or office; "The chairman was ousted after he misappropriated funds"; oust - remove and replace; "The word processor has ousted the typewriter";ouster - a person who ousts or supplants someone else; ouster - a wrongful dispossession; ouster - the act of ejecting someone or forcing them out [some definitions from google]. It works, but not as well. If you're a closet romantic, why not be "outed"? Though in the rest of the poem is very political (at least judicial)--then I would work on the first line.

placing jurisdiction with your open door policy
that now swings both ways. In passing,

What exactly does this mean...? Are YOU "placing jurisdiction" or is he? What does the open door policy entail, that you keep the door open? Why does the door "swing both ways"? That makes me think of some bisexual swingin', not sure that's where you were headed. "In passing,"...where? To me, I feel like the speaker missed this open-door policy maker, as in passed by him. Is this right?

I defended myself giving evidence
that romantics don't come equipped

"I defended myself giving evidence" you defended yourself for giving evidence? That's how it sounds. Easy fix, though: "I defended myself, giving evidence..."

with schematics so excuse me
if I fondle my way through.
I need to peel you away;
get to that ripeness,
and lick the sweetness off my lips
before I clear my through for my heart.
Speaking of putting our heads together,
see, I was playing with home chemistry sets

I'm so confused by what language you're using to express the complexities of this relationship--is it this judicial, courtroom language, or now this "equipped" "schematics?" approach? Or the "fondling," "peeling, "ripeness"--more sensual language? Make the poem cohesive with one. Or, make it into a crime of passion, using that courtroom, formal language and then getting more and more messy and gritty and pleading, if you will. Is "through" supposed to be "throat"?

trying to make sense of this,
but that shit didn't mix right

Now it's getting more colloquial. And what is "this"? The relationship? The feelings? Define.

and smoke screened my vision
until you proped open the window.

First a closet, now a window! We are definitely dealing within the confines of some sort of room, that's for sure!

By then, though,
I was star struck wanting nothing more

Star-struck? I'm not sure...we as readers have not known him as any kind of star, unless he was literally a star that opened the window and came inside the room.

than to hear you moan-
I mean,
preach to me this testimony.

He's moaning/preaching a testimony...of what? What are these charges, anyway?

Baby, I'll plead guilty
if it means I have a home to go to.

I thought the speaker was in a room, in a closet, in fact. Or at a window. Or something. Definately in a room though, in some sort of domicile. So what does this mean?

Believe me, I was willing
to take the time when I said, "I love you, too."

Cute poem. Some interesting things going on. Sorry if I take things too literally, but if you use language that captures interest, you should be willing to back it up with a solid narrative. I think you have some great material to work with. Mind if I play with it a bit? I got a bit inspired...

Case Closed

I was a closet romantic
until you walked in, outed me.
You came through the window,
a gold-skinned, luminescent boy.

Practicing chemistry in the dark,
mixing platitude with misplaced heart--
a madman's drunk alchemy for love--
I had made a silly and pathetic mistake.

So when you opened the door,
the spotlight seized me: I was caught.
Well, I was star-struck, arrested
by your admonishments, your coaxing.

I defended myself, I had to! Evidence,
proof of my findings: romantics don't
require open-door policies, we can
fondle our way through darkness.

Your interrogation instigated provocation;
I needed to peel you away, the layers
of white-gold light, get to the ripeness,
that pulp: lick the sweet sin off my lips.

Listen, it was never a crime to love
you from afar, starlight, but now--
you're offering me the deal, on the table,
the jury still out, I was ready
to plead guilty, already accustomed
to solitary confinement.

I'll reconsider, if this means
crimes of passion
are still fair-play.

Sorry to massacre your poem. I just got very inspired...But I've actually done this a lot of times to my own poetry, tear it down, create something new...play around with it, ya know? In no way am I suggesting this for a rewrite, this is just my own interpretation of some of the ideas you expressed, cause they rocked and I wanted to write something, haha.


BTW, I wish YOU were in my poetry workshop courses, instead of the lame-brain underclassmen I get stuck with who know nothing about poetry. -_-