For doomed lovers

Two lovers
Never will se light of love
And then hate takes them into grave

Why loved people are unhapy?
Why loved people killing?
Why loved people destroy?
Why loved people are pessismistic?

...For doomed lovers
Better live whit out it
How rott into lover arms

...For doomerd lovers
Better die into hands of doom
How rott into lover arms

...For doomerd lovers
Better kiss unknown lips
How rott into lover arms

Well, as you probably know, due to personal reasons I decided not to end up my collection My Monster so I just put it astray and maybe one day I will finish it. This is something I have written after a really long time, so feel free to tell me how much it sucks (I know, I'm totally out of my ''writting skills'' - like I ever had any lol)

I Loathe Your Angels

I loathe how your words pierce through me,
When you tell a joke;
It looks like my eyes are filled with glee,
But inside I choke.

I loathe the feeling of trusting you,
When I lean on your shoulder;
I sense that you are passing through,
As my soul in writhing is growing older.

I loathe that in your presence I am bare,
And you entwine me with your arms;
Unveiled of secrets with you anything I can share,
And I am stuck in the cycle of your charms.

I loathe that you always find the time,
To be with me, to listen;
Words of beauty or words of grime,
Or just how autumn trees in its sway glisten.

I loathe the look in your eyes that travels through my soul.
When I am joyful or dying in ache;
How always my obscurity you stole,
And never my laughter you did break.

I loathe the songs together we sing,
And I swim into your voice;
.... I am the queen and you are king,
In our kingdom forever we will rejoice....

I loathe your Angels that by you stand,
I loathe my love towards your heart;
I loathe in my eyes you are so grand,
I loathe the feeling of being apart.

I loathe you bring out the best of me!
I loathe every second with you I spend;
I loathe that as I see you, you see me,
And most of it – I loathe that all we had, has come to an end.

Written by: Ines, July 22, 2007

Written by AnGina-- on 21.07.2007 at 18:35

Well, as you probably know, due to personal reasons I decided not to end up my collection My Monster so I just put it astray and maybe one day I will finish it. This is something I have written after a really long time, so feel free to tell me how much it sucks (I know, I'm totally out of my ''writting skills'' - like I ever had any lol)

I Loathe Your Angels


Written by: Ines, July 22, 2007

What is Loathe

Yes i like that colections dunno if I had read all of them but in new forum yes hehe good job

What is Ines?

Written by Bad English on 21.07.2007 at 18:51

What is Loathe

Yes i like that colections dunno if I had read all of them but in new forum yes hehe good job

What is Ines?

Loathe = hate.
Ines is my name

I havent posted a poem in ages, in fact I think the last time I posted a poem was on the old MS. Well here goes, the poemfis personifying god. Which god? I do not not know, if it is even a god that I am not sure of either...I just let my imagination run loose...

( untitled )

Ageless, I stand above
empires of history..
Ageless, I am above the
fables of mans thought..

I feel no regrets,
no guilt for the path Ive walked..
for I am but a witness to aeons.

My perception is clear,
No boundaries contrict my being,
Ageless, I stand.

Mans desires have seen past me,
Mans chaotic destiny, has chosen itself
Throughout the flesh I see no limits,
Therefore I exist.

I have been reborn, since the
beginning of time,
Though I decline rest,
My flame has neither diminished or grown,
For I am the eternal one.

I bear no name,
For man has not seen me,
I fear no label, I am the creator
and I have evolved,
Ageless, I stand.

A Bit Too Late



I fear I may not be your savior
I'm not the one who lives inside of you
It's not so distant
Your thoughts so pure, existed
They kept me up when I was almost gone

But your smile's so un-tasteful
Not to say that I'm ungrateful
I just don't understand why
You had to go and die?

It's true I'm not the man that you'd expect
A man with no known virtues
A man with no respect
It's not a tear
It's this elemental fear
That I really won't be able to remember you

But your voice sounds so distant
Not to say that I won't listen
I just don't understand why
You had to go and die?

All I wanted was to be your savior
To heal you when in pain
To save you just the same
I'm afraid of what the dark has done to you
It will burn me I can tell
But I am willing to conquer Hell
If I could save you one last time
I would

something I just wrote last night:

I wrote this one day when i was feeling crappy

Im Sorry
Im sorry for letting you down; Im just a disgrace
Im sorry for making you cry; now i cant stand to look at your face
Im sorry for not being a better person; I know I hurt you
Im sorry for all the shit i put you through
Im sorry I was ungreatful for all things I had done
Im sorry for ditching you for unnessary fun
I wish i could have lived to say this but im sorry please forgive me
If I could I would have changed for all to see.

FROM THE SYCAMORES

We caressed under the late night of war
Partly in joy for an end
Partly in our well fought passion
That last bomb was the birth of a funeral dirge
It was well overdue

That night I was soon to learn had no death
It fell stagnant somewhere between time and sunrise
Found relentless in our eyes
And we expressed it only as we knew how
?in caution?

We were children raised in the midst of chaos
Still frightened of the falling ash and snow
Searching for shelter in each other
And somewhere that night
?we found it?

Holding hands as we walked
We found only strange glances for hours
Preludes to what would come
I was soon to learn had lost it all
I was soon to learn she was all I had left

I am still haunted there
Part of my soul lies in the rubble of old Britain
And im sure it haunts others there as well
Scarred and broken into the devastated buildings and cobblestone
The image of death instilled in them

I swear that night angels wept
Whispering eulogies in a walking of the streets
Resting among the sycamores to sing the lost to the heavens
I was but a child then
But I understood the sorrow

The death of my parents still hurts
But I have since found peace
Just me and her as we were as children
Kissing in the fields
Calling down the angels from the sycamores

Somber atonement for clutched orchids pale white as is winters vein
Absconded truth for lack of belittlement
Testaments to all carried before winded altars of principle
For God has slept 1000 years before the calm of man
As shall he remain for the desolate burden carried in the breath of the wake
Fortunate as vesperian sorrow on mournings awning
To wretch and cough undisputedly the tar of crippled lungs

Foe anon to call yonder knave of disputed adress
Aside somber repentance harlot youth abound in squalor and delinquancy
Ivy, rows in and rows out of intricacy
Any garden of youth could possess only one narrator of capitulance
Anon, anon
Repent for as it is said it will be given
Blasphemous and unpretentious like anything found in the good books
Classic by treasury

Scarlette
Any such name to conspire dementia, foul foul larceny
Martyrdom calous and vain the rapture within wounds
Damned if i do....damned if i dont
Malicious oh yes so clever fair lass
Lips cast in venom to call the tainted water at jonestown
Fair one in ever so ominous waves of tyranical laughter
Any such fear you cast i feel

Yet, abound in all such glory as any an accident of romantic novelty
Shakespearian and superflluous in all right
To be laden in all slander and a temptress
HA! to be youth
Any such excuse to be young
To take any amount of time and toss it aside so carefree
Id tempt not fate
Not so far as to say i could eclipse any amount of time
Nor the indulgent access of any guilt

Aspirations lacking any such potential to be labeled relevant
Extravagance captured in full repose at glance
A better view of settling moon
A higher sense of cackling fire
Any such perspired sesnse
My Scarlette, pompous and arrogant i do lust
Do the words you seek not lie malignant from my lungs?
Judgement befall
St. Valentines oh you ignorant fool

@MassacreofWords: Hey, welcome back! I recognised your style and username and I remember you used to post poems here quite often some years ago, back when we actually had an active poetry community. Anyway it's great to see familiar talents among newcomers and I'll be looking forward to read new art from you any time.

I have also a comeback to make, with a rather experimental piece. This is one of the very few of mine that rhyme.

The shining

Chosen to hide in the shade
he is constantly afraid because he doesn't believe the lie
which is easier to buy than what is truly ahead
a warning never read to any of them but him:
"don't trust the beam that calls to you from afar!
she's only a man-made star"

But their sun hasn't opened her eyes
somewhere in the disguise they'll be shown a nice surprise
he can't save their lives because the others are in love
with the face that's watching from above
and touching the needs of all those within her reach
while the murder in her mind
is not for the scared one in denial
because the rest of his kind
are too stupid and blind
to the image of death behind that all-seeing smile

*

A sudden flash in the distance
and he no longer listens to the voice of resistance
the seductress is awake, darkness is gone
he has become one with the obedient swarm
tricked by a gentle welcome
movement of wings on his either side
flown towards the end and closer to their bride
his rebellious spirit has now given up the fight
another one has found the light

A body of six legs is breakable from the inside
even small insects are capable of suicide

Untitled
Water hitting the roof;
The sound of rain
Silence;
The sound of her pain
With each drop
It wets the road
With each hit
Her life unfolds
If theres enough rain
It will flood
If theres enough punches
she will taste blood
The louder the thunder cracks
the harder it is to hear
The harder the fist is forced
The more she fears



To those who didnt understand this, im comparing rain to abuse.

Written by Graveheart on 12.08.2007 at 17:18

@MassacreofWords: Hey, welcome back! I recognised your style and username and I remember you used to post poems here quite often some years ago, back when we actually had an active poetry community. Anyway it's great to see familiar talents among newcomers and I'll be looking forward to read new art from you any time.

yes i have returned. i dissapeared one the site layout was changed i was hardly impressed with it. but now that im back i have quite a bit of work i plan to post here. as for the fact that the poetry forum has diminished i plan on contacting some of the old regulars such as zeraphine, and rozz trying to get it back up and running. looks like the tradition of critiqing poems here has dissapeared but im going to start reviewing them and posting my opinions as in the old days.

I've been typing and retyping this in the reply field for almost an hour. I call it:

STABRIELLE

[Exor]cisions cauterized
caught her eye
self-constructive versus de
The taste of copper renders me in rendered apathy

No shock in sin, artistry breaks the skin
She urges to free my restless limbs
For science wrought, it was all for naught
but for rotten wood fueling fire spat upon
Contrivances of weaker men wear thin

Lo the blank-faced lackeys
endeavor to cage this subject of curiosity

Rites and misdeeds of psychotic ease
Worse on the worthless
Them, worth less than the free samples
doled-out for free every other day this week

Heated murk of bloodlust
A red veil over my sight
Muddied glimpses into the glee skin sculpture brought
Alterations made here and there, and then

Nothing but opiated stupor
Stark-raving glad
The orderly never saw it coming
A masterpiece ill-fated to decay
the Dese]creation of a lifeless clod of low-grade clay
By my hand and your edge brought to new life
dripping what flesh binds unfairly
I did it with my knife

Here's to you, Stabrielle
my anus bleeds, but at least
O shimmering tool, a grateful beast
is always close to his only love

(TWO FOR ONE) CHRISTENING AND EPITAPH

Honey Sweat
I have your sweet taste
A sugar discipline in marlboro reds
Fuel for poetic asphyxiation

I feel our children would have been monosyllabic

Your eyes spell a cavern
Backwards and full of accidents
For example your "dog" was "god"
My chest was a revolving door on a revolving loop
I was a waltzing ghost in your bed

A sympton of lonliness is talking to yourself
I wrote an autobiography
...close enough

Blame bad luck for your sad little world
Magnets set at opposite poles for our repelled lips
Your doctor named your womb a casket

I happened to acquire a lighter last night
I burned down all your letters
Every single syllable
Except for one

....for my son

THE PALPUTATIONS

Tiny miscreants hidden upon caustic breath and miscalculations of being "felt up"

Only God could predict heart problems in this sly fuck

Nor could the stagnant breath of evol be caught in palputations

However, when we locked el diablo in the basement the jaxx let out the beat

And God was cast to the will of the wind

*hint hint*

SKY



Silly lover place your hand on my lap

Thought i would say my hand.....lol

This rotten impropriety has never been much for subtletly

Unless you cant letting down cancer victims with style

This ones got PIZAZZZ!!!

Sorry the extra ZZZZZ's were from me overdoing the zaz and falling asleep



I believe it was Neitzsche who said "music is love in search of a word"

LMAO

Music is music....so much for being the great PHILOSOPHER

Ill give you one chance to hold your breath before i try to drown you

....Of course in your own self wallowing!!!



In my life I have found several unmistakable principles

1. Never saying goodbye but seeya later

2. Never be the first to fall asleep (she could kill you, you never know)

3. God is Dog spelled backwards

4. A poet can make a bunch of bullshit sound pretty

Number 4 was directly about me

A SOMEWHAT SEXY DISLEXIA

Sweating out the nite
Desire pumped through perspiration labeled libido
No metaphors for sex

There is no word for sex in this vocabulary
That word is a dizzy ghost tonite
Haunting my tongue
Casper.....but darker
Invisible and hot into the hem of your gender

The Caspian to yonder Calypsso
I hint
Hint at the dead sea
Not to say that wet patch is dead
Rather the fate of many a bored collegian

I apolagize my dear
For NOTHING!

Must one smoldering bedsheet shade?
I should think not
Merely disguises the shape of positions made
Ha im a poet!
Though digress for no longer does a rhyme constitute poetry
....Poverty maye....scoot the r a little....

Scratch that
....aixelsid....

Twin Anenimities
Forsaken emulsions scored in the key of the "fuck you" pitch in my voice
God fell when i failed history
Apparently i was "meant for something more"
FUCK YOU SWITCHFOOT

Standing in the breath of rival winds
Hearts break at the same volume of shovels breaking earth
Grave diggers promiscuous grip on spades
No play in the temper of jokers wild for a full deck
All is fair in love and...something of that nature
I could care less about analogies shakespearian

At this junction of promiscuity in glances paint is thin
Lead based and brittle as proved circa 1970s
Hazards to health
Alas hazmat is bullshit if you understand me
Suicide is vanity and i say dress me up fair fuckers
Ive got places to go in style

Funny...
The person you could always want to meet could come from your own body
An entanglement of "oh shit"
Mistakes were never made so pure
Then again God was never the type to re-print
Im a living typeO
Paint me whiteout divine as all get out and none your business

Anonymous
Not just a mouse of 'anon
Re-draw to stanza one line one
Anenimity for you ignorant and arrogant..oops dont mean to offend
But i do mean to offend on your level
Id just rather you go home after subtle intrigue and pescimism

My name is drawn in july night vision with sparklers
Simple letters absorbed in suffocated light and july air
Performed in the odor of sulfurous spark
Dear God seal me into the eyes of children for their entertainment
Senior VPs beware
My name is drawn in and out of a spectators breathing sight

Trinity Fields

I was a child of his own kind; my father was the lord of the flies,
Made of his flesh and blood; daughter of oceans and skies;
Heretic princess, devil's seed; with burning flames of hatred in my eyes,
To rise upon this pitiful world and lay my hand on the mankind of Christ.

I was made to be wickedness made in flesh; I was made a wrath,
To feast upon the blood of men and convert them to walk my path;
I was made to destroy their innocence and purity in their hearts,
To fill their minds with venom from my poison darts.

As I give birth to these prodigious creatures of night,
My feeble soul is feeding on my endless might;
With each and every of my newborn child made a vampire
I build my own land, my kingdom, my empire.

The weakness glowing in their eyes so easy is to break,
And I indulge myself fin ecstasy when in my grip they shake;
Shake with fear as they feel my bite, feel the death approaching,
Knowing they are doomed to live at night, to never feel the Sun scorching.

My legacy shall carry on and the mankind will one day pray to me,
I will be the empress of this world, the one who has the Hell's Gates key;
Demonized serpent of evil, goddess of obscurity and atrocity,
? And we will dance on our own graves in the name of our monstrosity.

ok guys so now im going to start the critiqueing of poems. since there are so many already left uncommented im going to start with angina's poem and continue from there unless someone wants their poem commented on. if thats the case msg me and let me know.

Angina: Trinity Fields...it seems to me ive heard that title somewhere before, perhaps in another piece of yours somewhere? i love the opening line, well the entire first stanza in particular stands out to me. you catch me with the rhythm of the piece. how you start you come to expect a rhyming verse on every other line then you throw us off and make it every eighth. i truly enjoy the depiction. we've had few pieces like this since the poetry threads haydays. overall very nice

Written by midnight:raven on 12.08.2007 at 19:24

Untitled
Water hitting the roof;
The sound of rain
Silence;
The sound of her pain
With each drop
It wets the road
With each hit
Her life unfolds
If theres enough rain
It will flood
If theres enough punches
she will taste blood
The louder the thunder cracks
the harder it is to hear
The harder the fist is forced
The more she fears



To those who didnt understand this, im comparing rain to abuse.

really good though the last comment wasn't necessary ..

Untitled
The midnight stillness calms the air
The paleness if the mood shines off her hair
The boy turns to see the girls' eyes
Filling up with tears, along with the lies
He wishes he didn't hurt her he now wants her trust
He did it all for lust
He hates the other one
He really didn't need the temping fun.

What Is Death like
Have you ever looked up at the sky
And asked out loud "What is it like to die?"
Is it cold or warm, or no feeling at all?
Is there a light and if so big or small?
Do you walk around wondering if it is true?
Is there someone from Heaven or Hell to come get you?
I guess we'll never know untill our own deaths' due us in
We probably won't know till then.

The Color of Blood
Hve you ever noticed the color of blood
And on how when it doesn't stop it is like a red river flood?
Sometimes in my dreams when the Sky
Is that shade of red, someone is going to die.

This poem will be published at the end of the year in a book called "Immortal Verses" it is also running for 3 cash prizes wish me luck ><

Lusty Love

Oh come unto me my sweet darling
With thy lifeless flesh
Possessed by the demons of the night
An angel worshiped by the fallen ones
The darkness brought by the light...
A flash of hope
But yet thou art shall bring destruction
To those who put their blood upon thee
Those who seeks thy beauty
Condemnation have already found

Thy flesh has been blessed by the holiest of the saints
Therefore thy life has been cursed by the worst of the demons
Thou have no wishes or dreams
No love or hate
No pleasure, just pain
The rain can not penetrate through thy skin
The paleness of thy cheek shall represent the emptiness of thy soul

Unto thee my humble soul asks
What is a life if I can not have thy beauty?

Sky People

Millions of people do exactly the same
millions of people trying every day
trying to reach, reach to the sky,
but all those people do exactly the same
people can fly, but only together
only together they can reach to the sky
and if one of them falls, falls on the ground
they all must follow, follow him down
then I'll be waiting, my feet on the ground
waiting the day
people
raining down from the sky
millions of people rain down every day,
but hundreds of millions wanna learn how to fly

Sheeps

I do what I do, I do what I can
no matter what I do, I do my best

You do what I do, you do what I can
no matter what you do you are still like the rest

We are all a bunch of sheeps
eating grass that grows in our own shit

We are all a bunch of sheeps
running together, away from all that makes us think

We are all a bunch of sheeps
side by side we all eat, shit and sleep

We are all just sheeps
lost in the plains
and day by day every day is the same

Untitled

Tears form in her eyes,
It's not from the pain, but his lies
She hates the fact that he cheats
But she can't say a thing, because when she does he beats
Her until she is down on the floor,
Just so that she can't walk out the door.






What We Say
He tells me he cares,
I tell him I don't.
He says he'll make sure my heart wont tear,
I laugh and say i don't have one.
He asks me if there is anything he can do,
I say no then ask him to leave.
He says he wont even if he has to,
I say spare us both the time.

I just wrote this like 30 mins. ago, how is it??


Harmless Fun
Once again on the run
The teenage kids desire fun
They want nothing but a thrill
Something that will give them chills
But once out on the night,
They don't think twice about fright
That's what they want, is fear, something to make them scream,
Something that will make them think it is just a dream
Until they try to awake, in their bed
Little do they know they are dead.

^ I think it's quite good. Closing line gives the whole a stronger meaning.


@ AnGina-- : I very much like Trinity Fields...




Reverie

Does the magic of perfection
lie in the mist
which enshrouds the lake-shore?
Or in the trees
which rustle gently
in the night breeze?

Does it hide
in the rolling meadow,
serene as if painted
in watercolours
by a passionate hand?
Or perhaps it floats silently
in the night sky...

Surely it resides not
in the cityscape?
Alive with the movements
of the dead and damned...

Does it dwell only
within those who yet live?
They, who need it most,
yet from whom it hides
when greatest need calls...

Or, does it lie still
many millennia dead?
Only its ghost
lending brief respite
only to once again
cruelly steal it away

A vengeance and spite
of its own
vented upon a race
which deserves not
its tender caress...