Poetry

[karenee]

Oh, no! It doesn't need to be longer.

I think it would be good, especially with the right artwork. My kids would have no idea what a grate was without a picture.

[dgan]

Something dark...don't be concerned...it is not my mind I am revealing.

Emotionless sorrow,
A sadness not explained through a feeling of the soul
Not a mindful lament of the anger I know,
An expression unseen until I've made it so.

Unfeeling anger,
A quiet rage within a beast I do not recognize,
I am not afraid of my own fear or lies,
I am not afraid if, at my hand, someone dies.

Fear unafraid,
It is the pride of my existance in this life,
The exhilaration of my mind breeding strife,
My thoughts unafraid, though my hand fears the knife.

Mind unconscious,
Thoughts mine, but somehow not my own,
Taking even my spirit in the direction I am shown,
My body now a vessel, without me I'm all alone.

Where is my soul, who has taken it to flee?
Even now I feel my spirit writhe in agony?
Where is my hope, it is nowhere I can see?
I am here now but, no, it isn't me.

Please know it isn't me.

(This in no way encourages, condones, or is meant to represent a psychological understanding of a violent person or act. It is a poem, written by someone with too much time on their hands, who also happens to enjoy a little dark poetry now and then.)

[twyrch]

END OF THE ROAD

I've lost my friend tonight
Pain flows through like a sivve
My heart is broken, torn apart
I've lost my will to even live.

I've lost the one I've loved so much
My heart leaks life with every beat
I long to feel that loving touch
A truer friend, I'll never meet.

Why must life be filled with pain?
Why must truth be broken so?
Why must sorrow be my bane?
Why must God always say "No"?

I've lost the love that filled my soul
It's ripped to shreds, lost to the wind
To end this life, that is my goal
I just want the pain to finally end.

[dinadan]

Powerfully moving, Twyrch. I feel the emotion and the smouldering anger behind the words--as well as the doubt and rage at the doubt. This is good poetry--experiences distilled down to their essence.

[twyrch]

dinadan said:

Powerfully moving, Twyrch. I feel the emotion and the smouldering anger behind the words--as well as the doubt and rage at the doubt. This is good poetry--experiences distilled down to their essence.

Thank you Dinadan... I wrote that 5 minutes before I posted it. When I get depressed... I tend to write my best poetry.

[cree8ivone]

Ooooh some nice deep and artistic poems... even a little angst maybe... very interesting. Keep up the great work my fellow poets!

Ok, since we have ventured over to the dark side (hehe), I think I'll join right in on the all the fun



The Flouted Abyss

In the holes below the shadows
At depths uncertain
Death sleeps on the seafloor
Never dreaming
Evermore
Entertain the enchanted mistress
At depths uncertain
She disgraces and disguises
Her softest touch
Grip of vices
Lay your best down there, embalm it
At depths uncertain
In the coldest darkness
Broken oaths now
Beyond remembrance

© cree8iv Productions // Chip Conrad

[dgan]

I like that cree8ivone! Your poetry is so...ummm...poetic. Mine is just blunt. Oh well.

I'll follow the theme. This is poor writing, but I'll feel better when I get it off my chest.

How great is the cost to succeed in this life?
What is the price of the search, then the find?
Where is the goal, can anyone see?
Is it elusive, or is it us that is blind?

I hate the desire for achievement of nothing.
I despise dreams of grandeur, empty and hollow.
I long for something worthy of my soulful endeavor,
Yet, all contradict the small truth I know.

Even my loved ones spite me intensely,
Humility is absent, of vanity there is no end.
The conceit of my own father pierces my spine,
Nobility is gone, replaced by egotism instead.

How great is the cost to succeed in this life?
The goal attained is unique as well as the method employed.
When someone truly knows the quest and succeeds,
He is viewed as a failure, though his life he enjoyed.

[Child of Immanuel]

Well, nine pages after the thread's inception, I shall finally post one of mine. Composed in about ten minutes, only the first stanza is any good; thus, that's all I'll post. My poems are usually angsty, but this need not necessarily represent my state of mind.

Our masks are a prison
Confining you and me
And behind I'm screaming screaming
Can you see? Can you see?

[Child of Immanuel]

I wrote two poems last year based on 'Of Aldarion and Erendis' in Unfinished Tales. I really want to post them, but I can't find them anywhere. :'-( Off to look some more!

[cree8ivone]

to Child of Immanuel...

I write alot of things (poems and other stuff) when I am down or upset. I get very emotional stuff that way. When (or if) I edit it later, I try to maintain the emotion while making it more artistic. You have an imaginative mind. Keep writing. It's good stuff.


cul8r......................chip

[cree8ivone]

to dgan...

Thanks for the kind words regarding my poetry. I try really hard to use the varying frameworks of poetry and prose, so to be labeled 'poetic' is a high compliment indeed.

cul8r...........chip

[cree8ivone]

well here is another poem for you guys - let me know what you think...


Purpose

Through the great pressure
And the great dark
My light shines bright
As I embark

I descend into the darkened depths
Fortified by eternal light
Glowing slow into the harsh unknown
With hopes held high, it’s my delight

Through the greater pressure
And the greater dark
My light still shines
Inscribed, my heart

Unblinking into the blackest ink
Bringing shoals some broken bread
Diving down into the deepest trench
Waters others dread to tread

Through greatest pressure
And greatest dark
My light will blind
‘Ere I depart

Breathing breath into the shadowed sea
Grace like waves breaks over me

© cree8iv Productions // Chip Conrad

[karenee]

Wow! ministry and grace. That was really nice.

[cree8ivone]

Aw shucks!

Thanks Karen.

[karenee]

I like the wistful, longing feel of it. Good job.