Writing Thread (All Forms)

[alexryb]

cassette

analog twitch

in the speakers of a sad boy

riding

the burning amplifier

into feedback-induced coma

where

horses of noise lick

ears like children hunting an arsenic popsicle.

[Hogtown]

great stuff everyone.

We watch the skies

to see beyond the clouds, hopeless anticipation

waiting for a signal, hope of some sort

so deep within us, an urge to kick off our shoes,

let free a cry, bolting with childhood glee

away, through deep green fields

We watch the skies,

to see beyond the pale blue

our hearts lit up,

the sting of lightning,

the curse of thunder warms our ears

childlike foxes bound through the rough

we sit tired and beat

collars loose, belts tight

sweat warms our back

We watch the clouds swirl

the anger and resentment of the skies

looking down upon us, waiting

soft rain, the only true connection

between us and them

We wait in cold professionalism

to serve those that justify their work

we are not given such a chance

we exist only for them

smile, struggle and serve

We watch the skies

an urge rising, a deep pressure

warm feet meets cold, wet pavement

muscles bound, hot breath

breaking free across splashes of green

no longer a child not allowed to touch,

sinking our feet into the bunkers, tramping across the greens

our feet touching,

testing

nervous

free

We sit, minds racing

teeth sunk into our skin

the beauty of our surroundings demands our attention

no longer content

scarred beauty wishing to be touched

not swung at

our pockets empty, our minds rich

we are not so lucky

so for now, we watch the skies

[Hogtown]

maybe we can get some more people putting stuff up?

[jyoni]

maybe we can get some more people putting stuff up?

Not me

Enjoying the read though.

[james nicolas]

haven't written anything in forver and when i did i wasn't very good

anyways, i went and found my old notebook so i might aswell post something from it

..but they go unacknowledged

trees whispering amongst themselves

perhaps we could all communicate:

"I'm glad we are all joined,

here and together"

don't just talk for your tongue's sake

always with a reason

your breaths here are numbered

ripped out from your mouth

you never deserved this (a voice)

i hope you make it through the winter

and as you struggle to survive

have faith,

the sun will rise

[Tyro1]

Since I started the thread I thought I better contibute.

This is something I wrote quickly for the purpose of thread, so I hope no-one feels presured to post anything that is polished or even proof read, as I have done neither to the below...

----------------

I was eating my discount sushi on the irregular shaped board walk. I had bought it up the stairs at the market. I wasn’t really hungry, but I had nothing else to do. Boredom is a recipe for eating, but that is never a cure.

I sat down on a box made from the same boards as the pier and looked out over the water. The bus driver said there was a college on the other side, but I didn’t really care.

I sat my camera down next to me to take a photo. The boards stretched into the water like a giant beach of wood. It didn’t look like where I was sitting, but I liked it all the same.

I accidently dropped the sushi container and it sailed over the edge with a gust of wind. I looked down at my plastic boat, it floated carelessly. I wondered where it would go.

As I walked back up the stairs through the lower levels of the market, I promised myself I would never eat discount sushi again.

Yesterday, on the radio, I heard about a place called the North Pacific Subtropical Gyre. It’s an oceanic gyre that rotates clockwise and consists of four prevailing ocean currents. The circling motion draws in marine debris. Here sits a mass of plastic flotsam estimated to be the size of Texas. I wonder if my sushi container ever made it to the elephant graveyard in the sea.

---------------

[jyoni]

It wasn't until she rustled back into her cotton dress that I realized just how hot and funky this day was. Damn this chick smells earthy, I thought to myself, peeling a few dark tresses off my chest. I was tempted to say something out loud and start a tousle. A breath before speaking was all it took to shut me up; I was pretty "earthy" myself. I watched her bare heels wink out of the room and bit my tongue.

Three summer days without power -- it's enough to test any relationship, however new or old. Tempers flare, makeup is useless, showers are almost useless, normal people turn into sweaty, glowering, half-dressed beer gulpers (Woodpecker cider in her case). Home becomes like a hell, a damp punishment waiting at the end of the day, very much a prison complete with a cellmate. However, in this case the prison cliches are usually welcome. I forget who said this: If it's too hot to eat, you sleep; if it's too hot to sleep, you fuck.

...don't really know where to go with this...

hope noone hates it

[lakes]

It wasn't until she rustled back into her cotton dress that I realized just how hot and funky this day was. Damn this chick smells earthy, I thought to myself, peeling a few dark tresses off my chest. I was tempted to say something out loud and start a tousle. A breath before speaking was all it took to shut me up; I was pretty "earthy" myself. I watched her bare heels wink out of the room and bit my tongue.

Three summer days without power -- it's enough to test any relationship, however new or old. Tempers flare, makeup is useless, showers are almost useless, normal people turn into sweaty, glowering, half-dressed beer gulpers (Woodpecker cider in her case). Home becomes like a hell, a damp punishment waiting at the end of the day, very much a prison complete with a cellmate. However, in this case the prison cliches are usually welcome. I forget who said this: If it's too hot to eat, you sleep; if it's too hot to sleep, you fuck.

...don't really know where to go with this...

hope noone hates it

Enjoyable, i can relate but feel differntly. Nice writting tho.

[jyoni]

Enjoyable, i can relate but feel differntly. Nice writting tho.

I came home drunk.

add something.

[Sais]

up

-------

ten

[Halifamous]

The only way to take a proper study break from math is to write something:

Summer makes wrecks of us all. It blurs the clean and crisp, it takes them in and projects hazy waves from their straight, clear, lines. We're together here, pushed inside by the oppressive sepia of sunlight through unburst clouds. We sit in clattering subways, sucking great gouts of recycled air. It tastes like dust and lungs, but it doesn't taste of sweat, and it is cold. In these little containers we skip miles of hot tar street, until we emerge again to shuffle on to our destinations. Sweat runs in glancing beads down our backs, collecting behind our knees, and finally, flowing salty rivers to the oceans in our shoes.

We're an odd pair, she and I. We rarely talk to anyone else, so our strangeness is contained by our closeness. No-one sees it but us, and it grows in our proximity. Like air being closed in a compartment, the more we are together, and the closer we are, the stranger we become, until the confinement is too small, and the pressure is unbearable. I found her one day, in the crawlspace above the stairs, asleep.

I asked her what she was doing, and she said.

"I found a pocket of cold air, it's probably been here since the winter, don't let it out, I'm not leaving until this beastly summer goes away."

And that was it. She took all of her meals there, I'd cook soup in the ratty little kitchen, the steam sweating the room to an overpowering temperature, then I'd take ice and cool the bowl until it felt like the temperature of running water, and then I'd bring it to her there.

[lawlercopterz]

I got bored and tried to write something for the first time in ages, it's unorganized and messy but it's not too bad.

Waking up early enough to catch the first glimpses of the sun peeking its head above the eastern horizon was no longer one of the few simple pleasures in life; it had become his reason to wake up at all. The onslaught of old age seemed to massacre everything in his life he had held dear and worked for. Now, at the brittle age of 73, the old man was left with nothing more then the memories of a life wasted waiting the the moments in between time. For him, time was not the direct progression of an infinitely long line stretching far out into the distance, but rather the always fleeting moments of when he felt the most alive. It was the moments the sky burned red before pounding his small hut in the middle of a desert with oppressive heat, and the place where the sun fell into the horizon before darkness enveloped every aspect of his primitive, rural existence. As a young man, he had often contemplated what it would be like to be blind, and had subsequently decided that his life would no longer be worth living if he could not behold the beauty and mystery that unraveled before his eyes each morning, and each night.

[alexryb]

Where's the love?

apartment #1

banks

leak consumables

& i live (so much faster).

hours progressing

like flood waters receding..

slip,

slip, slip.

the

piggy empties

& i promise to try (harder).

veracity departing

like flood waters receding..

slip,

slip, slip.

[jyoni]

used some of it so I took it down

[ant_icon]

bump...i'll post something soon. i'd just hate to see this topic die.

[julianREE]

i was an angry depressed hardcore kid. humor me.

i hate the pretense, hate the facts

hate everything its just the way i act

i'll fuck things up, close my eyes

stop caring till the day i die

i'll just put on a shit faced grin, nod my head won't let you in

lose lose situations are the only options i see

i'll punch the wall break my fists, scream until my lungs give in

but nobody will hear what i'm trying to say

breaking mirrors, cause the person i see is not the person i want to be.

[shaqPERALTA]

a line from a classic poet Shakespeare

From King Lear- "... we will all laugh at gilded butterflies..."

[jeepster]

Matt, get @ me on FB, I need you to read something over for me - fresh eyes and perspective are needed for edits.

[C0C0]

some oldies from '05 - '06

the paradox

sometimes love isn't Shakespearian,

nor is it ethereal,

sometimes kisses are memories,

chained to thorny veins,

and full of accepting

what is.

----

he-

whispered

to my thoughts.

come, hither.

strange girl

in a cab

with drowsy windows.

rain implores,

as it pokes

through creaks

of my mind,

come back

home.

--------

yellow

pissy warm

memories of us

first love

lips locked

fluids exchanged

between lips

hard fists

please,

don't choke me.

----

N! = N * (N-1) * (N-2) * ... * 1

N! = N * (N-1) * (N-2) * ... * 1

a nonet:

reminds me of freshman finite math

for humanities majors that

can't stand the sciences, but

there is poetry in

multiplication.

factorials

always lead

up to

1.

[stayhandsome]

free form insecurities disguise clumsy words for clumsy worlds.

where time is like a locomotive and we're tied its fucking tracks,

with the sun on our backs, somethings you just can't fight.

[jeepster]

Something I wrote the other morning -

"Bed"

She lies in my bed. Her tense, small frame flickers every time she nods into a deeper sleep, further clutching the navy comforter to her blouse of the same shade. Her lips are full, and if she hadn’t created her cocoon, she would be trembling. Her eyes dart around under the shade of her lids and I look at her, wondering what she sees.

She shifts. Her body remains small and taught in the silhouette of the comforter, but her breathing never increases: always steady. She is unspoiled. Her hair is unkempt and messy, but clean and glossy – nothing is artificial, nothing lost or taken away and replaced with new flesh: she is her own and will always be just that.

I want so badly to hold her, but as fool’s rush in, I’ve kicked down a door on a life already in motion. I feel guilty, everywhere and anywhere, and my elbows and knees ache for what I did. Does she know the pit that sits in my stomach, the feeling of truly regrettable agony? Maybe, but I choose to lay the blame on myself. It’s just how I am.

Her breathing is soft and steady and she is comfortable and in this moment I am happy, elated, jubilant, and undeniably sad all at the same time. The three outweigh the one, but the latter sits on my conscience as a shadow of a doubt; a splinter in the mind’s eye. I cannot see beyond it, but I do not have to worry about it as I look back to the bed. She is still sleeping.

[原料かば]

great one to bring this back

[jeepster]

great one to bring this back

was that to me? thanks a lot if so!

[dino might]

a couple from last night and this morning-

"My Father"

My father

My foe

My mentor

My antogonist

My superior

My hero

My scapegoat for self-loathing

My reasoning for improvement

My villian

My subordinate

My rock

My all

My nothing

My self

"The Shakes"

The shakes

Are they a symbol, a sign?

My genetic predispotion to alcoholism

Demanding attention?

The shakes

Are they a psychosomatic sensation?

My perception of feelings in my gut

Making itself known?

The shakes

Are they weighing on me?

My harbinger of doom promising

To win the war?

Who knows?

Who wonders?

Who really cares?

Not I.

"I Drink My Beer"

I drink my beer

I check the weather

I manage my calendar

And wonder what to do with myself

Musing over my doubts

Over my insecurities

My paranoia, check, check, check

All still there

I think of my friends

I think of my lovers

I think of our discrepensies

And wonder where I stand

If only our feelings were mutual

If I could just smoke a fucking blunt

If things made any sort of sense

I wouldn't be writing this garbage.

"Yesterday"

Yesterday

She bit my lip

She kissed my cheek

She took off my shirt

She tore away my pants

She told me she'd fallen in love with me

She forgot to mention

She called him twice

She never thought

She hurt my hope

She never knew

Yesterday

Today

I got out of bed

Dressed

And left her

Alone.

[dino might]

pretty stuff jeep. i watch michelle's eyeballs do the same thing

[Hella Hyphy]

some things i found in an olllldddd journal, just thought i'd contribute:

Following forthwith is an account of an occurrence most abhorrent

As the doggerel has been sifted, sorted, expounded upon and finally

Fit for human consumption.

A befuddlement in linguistics;

Verbs of ill repute and

Much maligned nouns.

In plainer words, sir,

we place a dictionary on the chopping block.

My language splintery.

Born on a small farm is Wessex County, for a great deal of my life I have known the hardship and backbreaking agony of agriculture. The grey on grey of my existance has left me a bitter and withdrawn individual, shying from those around me and rarely ever greeting the touch of a woman.

I often like to think of myself as a stylite saint, but is this not human nature, to wallow in one's sorrow? Isolation can do this to a man, and it is neither beneficial nor healthy.

My psychologist is an inept and infuriating man, he speaks in riddles and I often wonder who, between the two of us, is the patient. His answer to all problems is a repetitive mantra, "Fuck Hoes. Get Money." I NEED MORE THAN THOSE FOUR WORDS! My outburst shocks me, but i decide it needs to be pursued.

[jeepster]

pretty stuff jeep. i watch michelle's eyeballs do the same thing

thanks brother

dig the line in "The Shakes" about the blunt

very you haha

were those for your poetry class?

[dino might]

Nah, we don't even get to write our own stuff in that class, just analyzing other peoples stuff just felt like writing some poems

And I have to lay off it now for a while, that's why I felt the need to include the blunt part, I'd really really like one right about now

[dino might]

That lines from "I drink my beer though" not "the shakes" yo

[jeepster]

you dry? shit, I thought I'd never see the day.

My b, also, bold your titles hah

I have reams of poetry lying around. I'll throw some up sometime.