Jump to content

Writing A Battered Green Notebook [G]

Ailes de Velour

Recommended Posts

Haha, you thought this was going to be a story or poem called "A Battered Green Notebook," didn't you? Okay, it's not funny. I'm so dumb. =D

Instead, it's a collection of stuff I've written. No matter what it is. And thus, it begins.

[b]Gregarious; Not I[/b]
I don't want to be a social butterfly
To have heart shaped wings of glass
On my shoulders
I don't want to reach the highest mountain
To fall down and end up lost
I don't want to be a social butterfly
Because they all end up squashed
Be reasonable
Never again will I fly amongst them
This snowflake will never bloom
Into a social butterfly
Be reasonable
This garden needs a thousand cages
The butteflies conspire
This garden needs a thousand cages
For them to catch on fire
Be reasonable

(I didn't necessarily say it was a collection of good stuffs, did I? Well, some of you know how I am. Always with the self-belittling.)

[b]Eidolon Now AWOL[/b]
These vinyl wings I lay aside
And watch them burn away
The haunting opera never dies
And keeps the want at bay
Memento mori beckons now
While ever full of dare
The burning trees bleed to the ground
As laughter chills the air
Haunting grounds seem so much more desirable
When we're gone
Haunting grounds are plagued by many spirits now
Though we've gone for good
A breathless choir is buried here
They never make a sound
But epitaphs aren't written clear
Enough to mark this ground
Webs of left behind plans
Of parties never thrown
They're there as ghosts with leaders sans
To make them less alone
Haunting grounds seem so much more desirable...

[b]Today Was a Briny Sea[/b]
Oh, the pressure presses me down
I'm not a switch for happiness
But my feelings don't really care
So why not leave things a mess
It's not who I am
Bring me back from within
Cheer me up, it's sinking in
Draw me close, draw me
Race me back, let me win
All this salt is sinking in
Draw me close, draw me
Never again
Oh my goodness, a blind tear
I'm not here to make a mess
But a violent storm within myself
Is so concerned with happiness
For only who I am
Bring me back from within...
Pull me back from within
I need to be back where I've been
Draw me close, draw me
Race me back, let me win
All this salt is sinking in
Draw me close, draw me
Never again

[b]Greenskinned With Aviators[/b]
It's not easy being green, it's what they say
I don't care for self-esteem anyway
I'll wrap myself in mystery and hide from everything
I guess today's the day to be absolutely green
What more can I say?
There is no good day.
Who cares, anyway?
Catch me, wear me, throw me, land me
Do what you like, I'm only candy
Catch me...
It's not easy being green, it's what they say...
What more can I say?...
Catch me...
What more can I say?...
What more can I say?...
No one likes green candy, anyway

[b]Poetic in Pathosis[/b]
Could it make me more interesting to read about?
Or will it engrave my name on the legend's plaque?
Because these small things make you immortal
Even when death comes to steal you back
Would it make me more aware of what I've missed?
Truly, I don't even realize what I still do
Even through pain, there comes acceptance
Because deadly things can make you brand new
There's nothing wrong with me
It could be wrong of me
To wish there was so I'd be more inspired
Or inspiring the tired, like me
I'm only self-diagnosing
It's not really knowing
To say there is something in me, expired
Or conspiring to kill me
What's the difference between artistic and politic-al?
Artistic and political demons that kill anyway
There is no dissimilarity between the two kinds of death
Because no matter what, they've both killed today
Should it make me more like the noble mythic figures?
Would it make me more aware of surreality?
With hallucinations jarring me awake tonight
Would they make me less aware of true banality?
There's nothing wrong with me...
There's nothing wrong with me...
Self-diagnosed disaster
Self-diagnosed disease
Self-diagnosed disaster
Self-diagnosed disease


Seems to be the only worthwhile things I've got in the battered green notebook...also known as "The Big Book of Something Mellifluous." But I used pencil to carve in the title, so it's hardly noticable. =D

Purely for reading pleasure, if one could call it that. Enjoy, or regret.
Link to comment
Share on other sites

You are now officially in my top 5 poets.

Grgarious; Not I: This one was interesting, not as good as the others but it makes a point. I like the ending bit with the garden of cages.

Eidolon now AWOL: This was so good I was shocked. My god, this is fantastic! Oh, I would like nothing more than to put this to music and listen to it 500000 times!

today Was a Briny Sea: Once again, simply amazing. I love how you sort of had a few lines that string together and then throw in "something" or "never again" it makes a great... formula, if you will.

Greenskinned With Aviators: Y'know, I like to think I have great interpritational ability, but this one totally went over my head. I still liked it though.

Poetic In Pathisis: This one made me feel as though I was speaking it myself, and I could totally feel what you were saying and how you (assuming these are your own thoughts) must have felt. It makes me long for a fantasy world in which I may be something greater than what I am, but this longing has me feel as though I am just being naive and stupid, but I still wish for that world.
Link to comment
Share on other sites

[FONT=Arial]I've got a new one, in a rather brand new purple notebook.

[b]De(sui)cide, 22 Minutes Later[/b]
In a moment of adrenaline
It rushes through your veins
A rite of passage so divine
But can you find the reins?
It shatters in a moment.
Like the glass before your eyes.
Like the bottle in your hand.
Like a sudden sick surprise.
Congratulations, new adult
You've made a poor decision.
Was the moment sucked from poisoned fun
Worth the moment of collision?
Our lives are hundred year ribbons
As frail as spider's silk.
The choice gave you a sharpened knife
And you saw your chance to bilk.
It shattered in a moment
As soon as you chose to fly
And with your freedom did you suspect
That someone was certain to die?
Congratulations, new adult
You've nothing left to decide
Your moment of free intoxication
Was your unplanned suicide.


I think it's obvious what this is about. A comment on one of my lines...it might seem like I was putting in a rhyme for no reason (which it may be) but I was really lucky to find this word.

[b]bilk[/b] - (verb) escape, either physically or mentally.

Yes, I used a rhyming dictionary. xP. I really like this song, which isn't often of me to like my own work. It was inspired by a "Public Service Announcement Prom Promise" I'm doing in Drama at school, in which my group has to make a video about the dangers of drinking and driving. I've found lots of statistics, which is sort of where I got the title. I wrote an original instrumental to play during my video, which was called "De(sui)cide." Because when someone drinks, drives, crashes, and someone dies, it wasn't an accident. It was a choice (and I stole that from one of the kids in my class; xP). So, that's where I got the first part of the title. The second is from the fact that every twenty-two minutes, someone dies in an alcohol-related car crash.

I don't mean to be all SADD here, but hey. I got inspired. *_* Maybe I'll turn this in with my video and get extra credit![/FONT]
Link to comment
Share on other sites

This is a very cool poem. The rythm was strong and clear, always good. It may be my personal preference, but the rhyming felt like you were trying a bit too hard. "Congratulations, new adult" was an apt coice of words, and a wonderfully sarcastic (not sure if that's the word I'm looking for) but fresh look at things on top of that.

Great message, fantastic rhythm. Thumbs up.
Link to comment
Share on other sites

I really liked that, the way you seemed to speek to the reader was... I don't know how to describe it, but I liked it.

"Congradulations new adult
You've made a bad descision"

For some reason I really liked that line. I might have to pick up one of those dictionaries, as your rhymes were better than most I've seen used in poems. Good work.
Link to comment
Share on other sites

[FONT=Arial]Actually, Tical, I just went to a rhyming dictionary on the internet. I feel like I cheated; xP. It was only for that one line, anyway, which I ended up cutting out of the final draft that my group used for the drunk driving PSA in drama.

So, today I'm going to revisit some older stuff that's available for viewing on my band's freewebs site, and possibly other places on the internet. o_O; hooboy.

[B]Mallcora Spain[/B]
Let's take off the mask, maybe there'll be
Some heavy black lashes, dark teardrops times three
And skin so white, it's almost as bright
As maybe a star that shines light, late at night
Let's hide over there, behind yonder tree
We can stare at her and long to tell her of you and me
And that we think she's adorably free
Of all of our laws, of all of our fees
Where's the girl that was here yesterday?
With our shrieking and gaping we scared her away.
Please tell her she belongs at our lovely Walkway.
And when she returns, then we can shout, "HEY!
You're the girl that was here yesterday!
You're welcome here anytime, we'd love you to stay
And be part of our troupe, our clique, so to say."
But our circling and prodding might scare her away.
Let's embellish her soul with daisies, not thorns
The thorns that she claims are the source of her scorns
It's all just assumptions that she is so Core
And that she buys everything from that one certain store
We hide over there, behind yonder tree
The one that keeps tripping both you and me
Tell her we think she's adorably free
From all of our crumbling reality
Where's the girl that was here yesterday?...
She's on both our lists, as a kitten so cute
Just follow our lead to become this astute
We promise you, we guarantee
Just because you're adorably free
From our daily dose of reality
And we can laugh when we all three
Trip over that darn tree.

This one was heavily inspired by Voltaire (who is a quite obscure and talented musician, signed by Projekt Records) and this one seventh grade girl who my friend and I (who I seem to be speaking to in the song) thought was the most adorable mallcore girl we have *ever* seen. Therefore, I wrote this piece to express my interest in this person. Ah, memories.

[B]Singer Scylla[/B]
Scared to death, cowering under a table of security
Sanity ever waning
Lunacy ever waxing
Trying not to look, might turn into a stone effigy
Having trouble containing
The safety that is laxing
Run away from the room
Cover ears from the noise
Stay and meet your doom
Siren will eat you, girls and boys
People lined up in a row, glancing at it's fangs
Sanity ever waning
Lunacy ever waxing
We were so far away, yet still in it's range
Having trouble containing
The safety that is laxing
Lunacy is the pinnacle of fear now

Okay; I wrote this in the SEVENTH GRADE (which was two years ago, and I firmly believe that my skillz have improved since then). It's about this creepy assistant principle at my middle school who sat on the stage during lunch and tried to sing Happy Birthday (more like a strange, toneless "they say it's your birthday, well happy birthday to you"). And, gottstatue, was she freaky. When she came near, shivers would run up one's spine. o_o

Tsk tsk tsk. Oh, Amelia. xP[/FONT]
Link to comment
Share on other sites

[FONT=Arial]Okay, time for some more random stuff that probably have these unbelievably deep meanings, and I just don't know what they are because I was writing close to three AM, and I don't know what I was going for. Anyway, here comes the crap.

[b]Psychosomatic Billy[/b]
Red walls. Nothing more than these halls.
These halls are built of red walls.
Red walls are built of dementia and fear.
Nothing more than reruns and dreams.
Syndicated sleep and hunger.
Syndicated daily life on monotonous TV.
This is your life. This is my life.
This is my night on an ice cold mocha
It's a late night morning without a sunrise.
It's a minor scrape with death.
Everytime you fall asleep.
Sleeping is not for those with a weak stomach.
Neither is Ohio; Ohio is only for the brave.
Because dreams are made of sleep and Ohio.
And everytime you sleep, you dream.
And everytime you dream, you go to Ohio.
This explains why dreams are often unremembered,
These halls are built of red walls.
Painted white with matching cancer.
Red, white, and blue veins carrying yet more red.
Walls, walls, destroy the walls.
Red walls.

The perfect comment on this is "o_O." It's strange, for most every song I've posted on here, I've changed the original title. Haha. I think this one was just me writing what was going on around me and what was on my mind (kids, get some sleep).

One less person who will feed me tonight.
One out of eight million.
The future is a dream created by a wiseman.
The future doesn't exist.
Give your everything to the dream.
Make it happen right now.
Count to ten and you will have everything
but the Future. Wait until sleep befalls you
to have the Future.
It's a dream. Non-lucid and coincidental.
Good luck and goodnight.

"o_O" again. I think this was inspired by me thinking too much about the whole deal with downloading music and how I vowed my band to always be about having fun as a musical group and not getting support off of it (which is half why I'm going to also be a novellist and a Broadway actress whenever I can be). Sure, we'd charge money for concerts and everything, because we need it to support the band. =P But I'm getting off track here.

[b]Light Dot[/b]
You won't be elastic, you'll be surreal
Questioning the point of no return
Taunting like a ship does a black cloud.
So pretty is plastic, where is the appeal?
Rippling above your head.
Haunting like a black cloud does a ship.
They leave me in wonder
What is normal, why does it exist?
A sky torn asunder
Lightning beacon through the myst-
-ery of truth
You won't be amazing, you'll be common
The same face implanted in every head.
Smiling as if you were truly happy.
Do you know where your wishes have been?
Nobody can tell you; it's too late.
Are you ready for a walk amongst the stars?
You'll become lost in the repetition.
For where we are
The stars are all the same
For where we are
It's too late

"o_O" I don't know. I was probably thinking of all those trends that are out there (such as gaucho pants and those ridiculously popped collars) that millions of people do. >=( . I'm fine as long as someone wants to wear those ugly knee-length leggings underneath a miniskirt or what have you, but I saw about five or six different people wearing those one day. Meh.

Okay. I promise something with feeling by tomorrow.

[b]About two days later...[/b]

Hehe, just skimmed beneath my given deadline.

This came out kind of fast, so I might fix it in the future.

[b]Irregular Countenance[/b]
You have seen justification for your
disgusting crime you committed
Should it count that your seeing eyes
Are crooked and bulging from your head?
It's true, it was unfair for you to be born like this
And it's unfair for people to seek amusement
Through your grotesque mugshot
But isn't it unfair for the one you have wronged?
We do not live in a
Crossed eye for crossed eye
Broken tooth for broken tooth
Society anymore
How could this happen to you?
Before you had broken any laws
You were born a Quasimodo of the 20th Century.
You are an adult man with desires
Seeking justification for a crime so impure
Through such an unfair deformity
I'm sorry, sir, life is unfair for everyone.
No more for the ones with mangled faces
Than for the girl who will sing her baby to sleep
Or for the baby that should've been but never was
Are you the baby
Should not have been?
No, sir, life is equally unfair for you and I.

I'm not so sure if I want to start this here, bur I feel the need for this little piece of thought to be explained is kind of high. It's about a man born with either Apert's disease or Crouzon's disease, who committed "gross sexual imposition" in Ohio sometime ago. Someone posted his mugshot on the internet, for reasons I'm not sure of. Maybe it was solely for shocking someone; because it IS shocking - or maybe just for humorous entertainment. I feel disappointed with myself for not being able to look at him, because his deformity is very startling and I encourage people not to go searching for the picture unless you can withstand anything frightening. I was trying to get into the man's thoughts (whose name I don't feel like sharing, because the last time I did someone brought his picture to school and scared everyone in drama class, nor do I want anyone here to go looking for it). I figure that he figured he was allowed to rape somebody, because with his deformity he knew that no woman would ever want to marry him and satisfy his natural male sexual desires (I know that not every man is sex-crazed, honestly, and I'm not saying that they all are. I'm just saying that this one was, which led him to do what he did). I don't really know his whole story...but then again, no one does. I know that I sometimes speak about him jokingly, but I mean no insult to him. While I don't respect him, I just feel sorry for him.

Wow, that seems like a large non-poetic paragraph. o_O;;

I'm all ready getting ideas for a MUCH better version of this, but I really need to get off the computer now. Maybe tomorrow.

Link to comment
Share on other sites

Psychosomatic Billy: Another one that I want badly to put to music. If "I ever start a band, can I use this as a song?

Neverevernow: O_o

Light Dot: Not sure why, but I really like this one. Your poems are so... psychological and thats what makes them amazing and why your my favorite poet. Can I have your autograph?

Irregular Countenance: Meh, I thought this was okay, but not all that. I didn't really get it until I read the paragraph. Id like to see your improved version though.
Link to comment
Share on other sites

[FONT=Arial]I never improved on the previous lyrical arrangement, because I just don't like it. I rarely like anything I write, though, so I don't even know why I bother. This, though, this is kind of nice:


In a heart-shaped room
There is a broken, lonely figurine
In a music box of gray
That stopped playing its sad
Discordant melody long ago
The forgotten are here

Picturesque sorrow
A beautiful portrait in a collapsed frame
In a collapsed gallery
In a collapsed world
Picturesque insanity
A music box ornament, forgotten how to dance
Forgotten how to laugh
Forgotten how to smile
Crestfallen and cynical

In a heart-shaped room
There is a cold, baby candle
In a blackened, dirty jar
That is enormous and half empty
And can never be filled
The forgotten are here

Picturesque sorrow
A field full of brand new, melting snow
Melting the landscape
Melting the perfection
A candle with a withered wick, cannot embrace a flame
Cannot be warmed
Cannot be fixed
Pessimistic and downcast

In a heart shaped room
Where the candle and the figurine live
Neither feel they are were they should be
The wrong music box, the wrong jar
They can't be happy like this
The forgotten are here
They will not go away.


I'm not sure where I got the symbolism from, but I just started speaking the first couple of lines and got inspired. My only problem is that I currently can't think of anything to call it. I refuse to use words that are in the song (such as "Heart-Shaped Room" or "The Music Box and the Candle") because I just don't like doing that. I'm not sure why I am like this, but I am. xP. [/FONT]
Link to comment
Share on other sites

Wow....just, wow. Awesome writing skills, methinks. Total potential, kid. I especially like the last one, "Untitled," if you will. The sad thing is that it hits close to home. Forgotten ones that feel out of place...it's like I was meant to read that one. Here's a title for you, if you want: "Seemingly Never"

Don't ask why I chose those words...they just popped into my head when I read your poem.

Well, looking forward to your next work!

Link to comment
Share on other sites

*Bows to the almight poetry master* I don't know how you do it! Do you give lessons?

Anyway, I love the sort of system you have here. The first, third, and fifth stanza have 6 lines (except the fifth with the sort of "finishing line") and the other two have a small ampunt of repitition. The whole thing is beautiful, with awesome imagery and great vocabulary. It's.... just... perfect!
Link to comment
Share on other sites

[FONT=Arial]I've done it again. This one doesn't really have a title yet, either, but I'm currently trying to record it (it's an actual song and not just a po'me).

[b]Five Gold Pieces[/b]

Woods are for people who think they know
What they want
I don't belong there
Taking a bow with a neckline that swallows
What a wonderful thing
Wonderful thing

Taking it's toll under the spotlight
Vibrantly tonight
Waking from dreams under the blacklight
Ironically bright
Simple little things deserve such gloria
I've never known such sweet euphoria
I'll never forget you
I want to go back, I love you

Bridges are meant to be built so they
Can be crossed
Mine is unstable
Time is quickly passing to my own
Failed protest
Be kind, rewind

Taking it's toll under the spotlight
Vibrantly tonight
Waking from dreams under the blacklight
Ironically bright
Simple little things deserve such gloria
I've never known such sweet euphoria
I'll never forget you
I want to go back, I love you
I want to go back, I love

Are we those people who'll never part?
I don't know
I won't forget you
Please be with me, on my own
Just as ghosts
I love you so
I love you all


It sounds much better in an audio format, trust me. =) Hopefully I can get it done by tonight so I can put it on my band's myspace, and you all can listen (if you really want to, but a word of warning: my voice sounds TERRIBLE).[/FONT]
Link to comment
Share on other sites

[FONT=Arial]Aaah, the vocals came out slightly better than I expected, but they're nothing special. It makes me really sad. =(. Anyway, I've uploaded it to my band's myspace, so the song should be available within a few days. Notice that I slightly changed the song, and that it's title is "Five Gold Pieces."

Now, I don't expect anyone here to know what I'm talking about in the song -- that's because I wrote it specifically about my eighth grade year in middle school. "Woods are for people who think they know what they want" is referring to Into the Woods, a broadway musical that combines fairytales and sends them "into the woods" to get what they want (the baker and his wife want a child, Cinderella wants to go to the king's festival, etc.). I was a part of this musical (the junior version) the summer after my eighth grade year, and it was the best experience I ever had. "Taking a bow with a neckline that swallows everything" refers to the dress I wore as Cinderella's stepmother, which had the biggest neckline I've ever worn. I even made a joke about it, because Lucinda was complaining that I didn't put the gold slipper on her foot after cutting off her heel (ItW is MUCH better than Disney. >=). To this I said, "Well, I had a choice between shoe and neckline: shoe, neckline, shoe, neckli--I'm picking neckline." Because if I bent over, the neckline would droop. And I've got...cleavage. =). So there, that's the story behind it. It's about eighth grade and not wanting to leave my friends. Simple, non?[/FONT]
Link to comment
Share on other sites

Wow, I never would have guessed that. In retrospect, it's amazing how you've taken such a simple concept and turning it into a poem in which one wouldn't be able simply to guess the meaning, that's really good (I think, I mean Im no expert). I can't wait to see your newxt masterpiece. Aso, I'd be honored if you were to take a look at my poem...
Link to comment
Share on other sites

  • 2 weeks later...
[FONT=Arial]It's been a while, hasn't it? I almost lost this thread.

And now, a new one.

I can feel you moving underneath, you know
The darkness ripples in an oh-so blatant way
You're not all that you used to be
Mr. Boogeyman, face the new age of day

No system will you follow
Colliding with the floor
Rejecting what you don't know
I can't see your horror anymore

I can see you cowering and I can smell your fear
Your antics once so frightening will never pay
You're not all that you used to be
Mr. Boogeyman, face the new age of day

No system will you follow
Remove yourself from here
Rejecting what you don't know
You've lost your impish leer
No system will you follow
Colliding with the floor
Rejecting what you don't know
I can't see your horror anymore

(there is nothing to fear except fear itself)

No system will you follow
Colliding with the floor
Rejecting what you don't know
I can't see your horror anymore
No system will you follow
Colliding with the floor
Rejecting what you don't know
I can't see your horror anymore
I can't see your horror anymore
Link to comment
Share on other sites

[FONT=Arial]Yes, all of the "poems" I write are actually song lyrics without the music. And my most recent one is actually about me not being afraid of things I used to be afraid of anymore, like thunderstorms, Salvador Dali (some pictures of him were pretty frightening), and I recently watched The Shining without getting scared (or most of it, I kept turning it off before every tricycle scene). It's more like me proclaiming that I'm not scared of them anymore, and that they should just stop trying. =)

I wrote another one about my annoying friend, but I don't have it with me. I'll post it later, though. Oh yeah, I wrote two songs recently, so I'll post them both later. Yay![/FONT]
Link to comment
Share on other sites

Create an account or sign in to comment

You need to be a member in order to leave a comment

Create an account

Sign up for a new account in our community. It's easy!

Register a new account

Sign in

Already have an account? Sign in here.

Sign In Now

  • Create New...