LSU_Stogies Poetry Corner

[LSU_Stogie]

While smoking I like to clear my mind and write poetry, contrary to popular belief it isn't just for girls anymore! haha, if this thread takes off I'll post some more of my poetry! Any criticism is greatly appreciated...this is one of my darkest poems but the best one as of yet...

"Untitled"
By: Mackey

(You have any suggestions for the title, tell me)

Rebellious Tribes
Hide The Unborn Child
Abortionist Tools
Heed Sacred Cries
Remember Where You Came From
Sleep Brings No Relief
Unjudging Ropes Display The Hung
Sweating From The Unsurpased Heat
A Creak In My Neck
A Torment In My Eye
A Headache Past My Brain
Behold My Glorious Slipknot Tie
Death Holds No Boundary
Holds No Promise Of Escape
Untold Limits
Fence In Rape
Genocidal Radicals
Display An Acidic Fate
Vails Of Black
Shroud A Blemished Bride
This Cancerous Emergence
Corrodes Me From The Inside



Mackey

[LSU_Stogie]

aww nobody wants to participate lol

[CIGma_Chi]

Originally Posted by LSU_Stogie

aww nobody wants to participate lol

Good stuff ... disturbing ... but good. But then again, I know absolutely nothing about poetry so take it with a grain of salt. But hey, don't let that stop ya. One of the coolest things about this forum is it's diversity and tolerance ... which really just boils down to mutual respect.

[LSU_Stogie]

It is disturbing, I admit it, but with all the stresses of school and my moms constant nagging, I have to release it in some form.

[miketafc]

I didn't understand any of it -- So it must be very good

I never got past Ode on a Grecian Urn in High School, but I didn't get passed a lot of things back than that I'v come to appreciate more now.

Keep em coming.

[LSU_Stogie]

Another one thats pretty dark...sorry, im not really like this in real life...

"Saint Valentine"
By Mackey

Putrid smell of love's distaste,
dead roses upon a grave,
A defiled waste,
Stole in the night like a heartless knave,
my hand upon your cold, hard chest,
reaching for a heart in which I crave.
Angel in disguise for which I was blessed,
tortured, beaten, and shackled like the rest.

A pungent smell of pure jealousy,
set the mood and provided key.
The aftermath of the defeated saint
left me weary and liable to faint
supported by these balance beams
deaftly ears hear no heed to screams,
A vile of perfume, a solitary rose,
a sign of passion and loathly foes.

[D. Generate]

Originally Posted by miketafc

I didn't understand any of it -- So it must be very good

I never got past Ode on a Grecian Urn in High School, but I didn't get passed a lot of things back than that I'v come to appreciate more now.

Keep em coming.

I really like that Keats poem. The "beauty is truth, truth beauty" idea always appealed to my artsy-fartsy side.

[LSU_Stogie]

"Shady Man"
By: Mackey

The Shady Man
Who has no plan
Walks down the street,
With gun in hand,
He has no route,
He makes no sound,
He just keeps walking round and round,
People try to stop him but they run,
I guess they're intimidated by his gun,
He always walks and goes away,
People wonder why he doesn't stay,
He suddenly stops in the middle of the street,
He raises his gun from his feet,
The barrel stops at his head,
Is he going to shoot himself dead?
The trigger is squeezed at his pull,
A click rings out loud and full,
The magazine is empty, the bullets are null,
He lowers his barrel from his skull,
He continues his walk from town to town,
Hoping the bullets will someday be found.

[miketafc]

Originally Posted by D. Generate

I really like that Keats poem. The "beauty is truth, truth beauty" idea always appealed to my artsy-fartsy side.

Not an expert on poetry or art, but I like both without understanding the real reason why.

One of my favorites is Kahlil Gibran - The Madman, His Parables and Poems

You ask me how I became a madman. It happened thus: One day, long before many gods were born, I woke from a deep sleep and found all my masks were stolen -- the seven masks I have fashioned and worn in seven lives, -- I ran maskless through the crowded streets shouting, "Thieves, thieves, the curséd thieves."

Men and women laughed at me and some ran to their houses in fear of me.

And when I reached the market place, a youth standing on a house-top cried, "He is a madman." I looked up to behold him; the sun kissed my own naked face for the first time. For the first time the sun kissed my own naked face and my soul was inflamed with love for the sun, and I wanted my masks no more. And as if in a trance I cried, "Blessed, blessed are the thieves who stole my masks."

Thus I became a madman.

And I have found both freedom and safety in my madness; the freedom of loneliness and the safety from being understood, for those who understand us enslave something in us.

[LSU_Stogie]

that was real good...