Writing Ten Poems Regurgled Raw

[Mitch]

[size=1] Ten poems here. Written just now in rapid succesion. I got pretty devoid of what I was writing in the last few. But the rest were decent.[/size]

[b]I[/b]
i love thee
in some fashion
that i wear

what be it
that hugs my body tight
the frame enwrapped
bones and light

what be it
that wears me
in this dight
for when it is flesh
and ripe bruise
that is when
and there is then
found colorful hues

[b]II[/b]
some days wear i boxers
and jeans faded flare
blue as sadness carries its care

some days i wear shirts
most loose askew
wrapped round lankily
not showing off
my beauty's frame

some days wear i faces
that wear upon mine face
that feel like make-up
powder and paste.
mannequin be i
faceless face lined.

mannequin be i
faceless face lined.

[b]III[/b]
my body naked
is a machine
pump-pumping
the joints careen
the bolts swing
and there be time
pendulum being.

my body naked
is mine own
undesecrated
flown.

and there i wear it
much as me
while deeper in
monsters breathe.

my body naked
is a machine
pump-pumping
those joint careen.

puncture mine skin
drain tward the flesh
deep inside deep duress
my body naked
i see.

[b]IV[/b]
ribs and bone
white polish
shone.

flesh hunkers
hugs th' sides
helter-skelter
skeleton frame.

therein there tamed
machineofbones
mine own slave.

putten things upon
layered deep and drawn
cutten now then slaughter there
all i am is bones bruised rare.

cutten mine cloths
cutten mine skin
bleed profuse therein
skin mine ripeness
tempted taste
eaten it all
do not haste.

then there be
ribs and bone
shone.
then there be
machineofbones
mine own slave.

therein be
machineofbones

yet still
flesh hunkers
hugs th' sides
and whereto
do i pry.

skin me now
then therein lie
deep and dormant
prime.

for machineofbones
am i.

[b]V[/b]
in th' begin' there was none
then blackness seizured.
an' there it began.

a lifeless form was made
built?boltered?framed.
inhumane?urbane?mundane.
and therefrom it was all made.

dressed here and there
th' blackness was dressed fair.

wore he now the light
an' hues o' colors lurkened slight.

a green?
a white?
a yellow?
a red?
all many much more
colors there were bled.

the blackness felt most fine
decorated he was sublime.
an' he was given feeling
an' emotions seethed.

the anger risen?
the peace interred?
the lone felten?
the horrid bared.
the feelings synapsed
combined then retract.
an' emotions seethed.

most of all
as time went forth
blackness came lone with want
and with his nothing and with his all
he built forth a figure tall.

thereupon he built within
deep dresses and wires and tendons thin.
till had he built his whim.

and O what lack?and O what great?
therefore stood a figure gape.
with wide eyes and cheeks so thin
and innocence very grinned.
an' emotions seethed.
an' in incubation the figure made.
hindered, slaved.
till it was its own new color brave.

it was colored
most differeing.
and it flashed and flashed.
an' emotions seethed
while in his blackness
blackness be'd.

thereupon the figure made
grown and feigned
was hurten with the way things were
and was but a smear for blackness to upturn.

blackness took him unawares
smoting down him to bare.
and in the act and in the ways
the figure was much bruised.
till wounded he died.

a bruised smear
wounded to a hue.
and still that form lingered
even in death.
for what it had been and what it had done
still had breath.
an' emotions seethed
as blackness grieved
the most strange sadness he believed.

and blackness cried
till his tears hit thereupon the bruised smear.
and blackness saw the wet dead with fear
till in his sadness he could not refute
his want of another to brute.

then there was made
another figure there.

another bruised smear
to have his fare.

in th' begin' there was none.
then blackness seizured
an' there it began.
an' there it ended.

[b]VI[/b]
comet carnage incarnate
hit upon me thine console
bore into the earth
th' head like a hole.

comet i see thine tail in th' dark
smoking round wanting home
come down thee comet
come down lone
with not a lover nor a need
but with inevitablity obscene.

comet comet in the night
cometh down thine fright
come come in the night
cometh down, cometh the light

cometual the delight
cometual the idle blight
comet you be
th' most right.

comet carnage incarnate
hit upon me
thine console
bore into the earth
th' head like a hole.

[b]VII[/b]
i sing to you my friend alone
the song most sung the most beloved

i sing to you as i sing to myself
and sing to you like sing you
deep inside you feel this way
i know it my friend and i shall write it here today

i smell the leaves of grass
the grass that grows
i feel it neath my feet
and neath my smell

deep here in the grass
its death has already began
and one can tell

deep here in the grass there is yet water
and the stuff that gives it life
but one day it shall not see this, nor the light

so my friend i sing to you
i sing to you my friend alone
the song most sung the most beloved

i sing that there is no purpose but what there is
and there is none there be or is
but deep inside us all we must live

just as butterflies are most serene
and the trees growning are most pristine
so are we but we are not so green
for we take to our devices cold and hard
the technology that has been made.

what has been made cannot be unmade
but only sheltered and effused
drawn back and held to hard
and something made makes things eased
but too much goes to the point of no need.

so my friend i sing to you
telling you that you must live
live as other have lived
live as the grass has been
and there you will find no hope within
but a hope that living is living then.

[b]VIII[/b]
we don't need to multiply
we don't need to grow
we don't need the flowers
we don't need the road

i crossed my math with my crucify
i killed the weeds with a pull
i beat the flowers to bruised fulls
and i cracked the road that i have worn

my feet are undaunted
my hands are thin and veined
and my mind has been broken
and framed.

when i find it all
i will find the question
and then it will be asked

and there shall be a beautiful answer
for a beautiful question

and death shall teeter
and shelter from the storm.

[b]IX[/b]
have grown hairy
with the age
given new visage to haze

with this sign?this bade
i wear me blossomed soon to fade

and when i wilt
i will drain
and when i wilt
i will drain.

have grown hairy
the thorny nest has begun
spidering down its lung.

want to numb
blunt the candid dumb
feel it going to another
going down the way

and when i wilt
i will drain
and when i blossomed
i felt engrained.

have grown hairy
with the age
and with this given
i shall fade.

[b]X[/b]
x marked the spot
on the way i was gone
the map was thin, my hands cold in the snow
and there was treasure, but it was unknown

the past was written
on the map
the x fingering me in the eye
shooting me point blank with its vision
its cry

the past is a big gaping hole
and i climbed back in it
the monster still lived in that abode
and in there i was eaten by him
and found it was larger than i'd ever known

the past is a gaping hole
and i can't help but go back
for the treasures there
like a pirate that has lost his way
going bout stumbled in the rain.

x marked the spot
on the way i was gone
and i climbed in the musty hole
and since then have ever been gone.

[Mimmsicle]

[COLOR=firebrick][b] I [/b]
could be read as though you're talking about a pair of jeans/boxers.... or the shape of a body.

[b] II [/b]
shows that there is more than the one side to someone. sometimes our own faces can be foreign to ourselves.

[b] III [/b]
hm... well. I'll tell you in person what I thought, when reading this. It has a really raw, passionate feel about it[i] *nods*[/i]

[b] IV [/b]
the first poems and this one, were all spot on. this felt very you and that is the best I can explain it.
[b] V[/b]
felt as though you tried to blend darkness with dazzles of light, which didn't set to well, in my mind. it confused me, as how I should read it. maybe it needs further viewings...

[b] VI [/b]
felt repetative and didn't really speak to me. it spelled out desctruction and the longing for something to oblitorate you. which, I presume, a comet would be most suited to do.

[b] VII [/b]
felt a little uneven, but the latter part really stood out and outshone itself. a bittersweet lullaby, trying to convince itself about things it doesn't believe in. but still, shrugs and "accepts" it and moves on....

[b] VIII[/b]
a refusal. tearing down the things laid before you, not wanting them.

[b] IX [/b]
felt different, upon a second reading. you went from almost sweetly in VII - to harshly pushing yourself away in VIII. and in this one, there's a sort of blend between the two.
you don't dismiss completely, but at the same time there's no hope whatsoever.
you state the facts and that is that. bluntness in bittersweet disguise.

[b] X[/b]
no, can't take this one in.[/COLOR]
[color=indigo]
I'm no good at reviewing, but I tried. Sometimes the best feelings cannot be translated into words.

- Mimmi[/color]

[wiccansamurai]

I loved it, Mitch. You were saying a lot more than what you were saying right out, if you know what I mean. I can't see much wrong with these. I think my favorite was VII.

Sixy, just what are you trying to say?

[Guest sixthcrusifix]

no offence, but ITS A POEM you idiot! Its about my gramma and i just wrote it like mitch did, What did it look like to you? A shopping list, Why the heck would a samurai be wiccan anyway, thats your first problem!

PS: I really wish you WOULD just fade away... For good!

[Semjaza]

[QUOTE][i]Originally posted by sixthcrusifix [/i]
[B]no offence, but ITS A POEM you idiot! Its about my gramma and i just wrote it like mitch did, What did it look like to you? A shopping list, Why the heck would a samurai be wiccan anyway, thats your first problem!

PS: I really wish you WOULD just fade away... For good! [/B][/QUOTE]

Please stop being an moron. You're testing a lot of peoples' patience around here. You come in Mitch's thread and obviously do a thinly veiled parody of his work. Do you think people here are stupid enough to believe that is all there is to it? Whether or not it's about your "gramma" is irrelevent, because guess what? This isn't a thread for [i]your[/i] poem. Make your own and stop being insulting.

You might not want to listen to Mitch (whom, despite some of his overzealousness, is generally within his right considering he is a mod of this very forum), but I can very easily remove you from here entirely if you're going to act like a five year old. I suggest you start listening to someone.

[wiccansamurai]

[QUOTE]no offence, but ITS A POEM you idiot! Its about my gramma and i just wrote it like mitch did,[/QUOTE]

What ever you say. Mitch seems to put a lot into his writing. Don't flame it. I don't even see what aspect of it you were flaming.

[QUOTE]What did it look like to you? [/QUOTE]

How you tempt me! Okay, it looked like unintelligent crap that didn't belong anywhere near Mitch's writing.

[QUOTE]Why the heck would a samurai be wiccan anyway, thats your first problem![/QUOTE]

As long as names are obviously an issue, (for some unknown reason) yours is mispelled. I'm a wiccan. I do a little practice sword fighting. What [I]is[/I] your point?

[QUOTE]PS: I really wish you WOULD just fade away... For good![/QUOTE]

How unoriginal!

Mitch, please stop me before I get really angry.


EDIT: Thanks, Sem.

[Guest sixthcrusifix]

I am Sorry, I didn't mean to say those things to you, Somhow i know that the damadge is allready done, But i get a little wierd sometimes, And when I am angry about somthing at home, Writing helps. And yes i have ALWAYS known that my name is spelled wrong and i have never wanted to change it. I also ment every word of my poem and It was in no way a parody of mitches. I had an abusing granmother named jhonny nell frittle! I wauold never make fun of someones work in a poem. If i didn't like it, i would have told mitch straight out, Like i know he would tell me.