The cherubs taunt with undying intensity
As these wingless angels fall;
Castrated and loathing,
Thinking of their possibilities and talents wasted.
They die dreaming;
dreaming of something other than destruction and chaos,
something other than war and bloodshed.
The evil rise up,
while the paragons among us sit in silence.
Our leaders take a course in futility and insolence
While we're plagued with pestilence.
And while you look down the barrel of a gun,
and annihilate your reflections;
It's humanity that's dying out,
It's us that shall fall.




I rhymed three lines in a row without noticing. Completely unintentional lol.

You hold your breath as you go under,
as the world warps and twists before you;
distorted...
Senses sharpen, as the piercing sounds of guilt fade away.
You become aware of your vulnerability,
Your mortality
Is fading fast.
You force yourself further down, desperate.
The air escapes your lungs,
You feel light headed.
You can't take it.
Not long now though...
Jarring upright, breathing heavily.
Disapointed.
The warped, translucent world before you solidates.
Your sorrows return.
You try again.
Failure. Like every other aspect of life.
You condemn yourself.
Tears escape their prison and run free, flowing freely.
Thoughts travel rapidly.
Idea.
Tied under now.
Feeling as before.
Darkness.
You see yourself, aware of your naked state.
Aware of your beauty.
Admiration.
Hope.
You open your eyes with renewed vigor.
You try to move but you can't.
Your translucent dreamworld has become your prison.
Your attempt to end your sorrows and guilt ended you.
I felt you breathe, and then you stopped.

Written by whatsacow on 08.12.2010 at 11:29

Curiosity, a force of intensity;
The soul years for answers.
The heart is treacherous,
Prone to desire...
The brain is weak,
The body powerless
To the woes of mystery,
Bound to possibilities and "what if's"
What if there was more than merely an 'I'?
What if that 'I' were prefixed with a "you and"?
What if the plague of misery and lonelyness subsided,
and together was all we were...




The cherubs taunt with undying intensity
As these wingless angels fall;
Castrated and loathing,
Thinking of their possibilities and talents wasted.
They die dreaming;
dreaming of something other than destruction and chaos,
something other than war and bloodshed.
The evil rise up,
while the paragons among us sit in silence.
Our leaders take a course in futility and insolence
While we're plagued with pestilence.
And while you look down the barrel of a gun,
and annihilate your reflections;
It's humanity that's dying out,
It's us that shall fall.





You hold your breath as you go under,
as the world warps and twists before you;
distorted...
Senses sharpen, as the piercing sounds of guilt fade away.
You become aware of your vulnerability,
Your mortality
Is fading fast.
You force yourself further down, desperate.
The air escapes your lungs,
You feel light headed.
You can't take it.
Not long now though...
Jarring upright, breathing heavily.
Disapointed.
The warped, translucent world before you solidates.
Your sorrows return.
You try again.
Failure. Like every other aspect of life.
You condemn yourself.
Tears escape their prison and run free, flowing freely.
Thoughts travel rapidly.
Idea.
Tied under now.
Feeling as before.
Darkness.
You see yourself, aware of your naked state.
Aware of your beauty.
Admiration.
Hope.
You open your eyes with renewed vigor.
You try to move but you can't.
Your translucent dreamworld has become your prison.
Your attempt to end your sorrows and guilt ended you.
I felt you breathe, and then you stopped.

First poem- This one's very thought-provoking, which seems to be a theme for you lately. (Only two technical mishaps occurred in this one. There's a typo in the 2nd line and a misspell in the next to last line, although the misspell could be an interesting deviation deliberately used. I did so on one of my poems, quite deliberately, so you may be able to keep this word the way it is. I kinda like it that way. Also, you're not the only one to ever spell lonelyness (correct spelling: loneliness, according to the dictionary, with no alternate spellings) this way. There are some 133,000 hits for this spelling. Interesting indeed.

But let me get back to the meat of the subject. Your poem. Your character seems to be suffering from lonelyness (deliberate spelling) and also seems to be reflecting on some event that caused a rift between him and this other important person. Very emotional writing, leaving the reader with a why.. and a wishful dream... Great job on this!


2nd poem - wow! This is really excellent, both retrospective and imaginatively visual. It is filled with emotional turmoil, as well, but it is almost wistful in the way that it is written. It is also both intense and wishfully soft. You can almost see feathers falling in some imaginary wasteland...And the end is just so sullen, so positively final. This is truly excellent writing. A high five to you on this! Great work!


3rd poem - This is a very adept description of what I imagine it would be like to try to drown yourself... suicide... the desperation of failure.. and the need to escape the unending turmoil of the soul. Each line is a new imagining, a new struggle... Your reader clings to every word, but the last line is by far the most striking, piercing the imagination and the human psyche... "I felt you breathe, and then you stopped". Up until then you were speaking as a silent observer, but then suddenly you enter the poem, and then everything stops abruptly. wow! What a striking ending. The best! Your talent is truly shining now! Superior writing skills! Excellent!


Well, I have a million things to do tonight. Keep writing, guys! I'll see you soon!


Your adoring fan,

Raging Dreamer

Confined

Wind is blowing tears away
The sky, darkened clouds rule from above
Wind is blowing thoughts away
We lose sight to the rain

Cold and numb, is there not worse?
Life itself is a curse
The cruel truth of our existence
We fade one by one in the distance

I, the rational being
I live with no meaning
I negate the obvious
My curse of being conscious

Slaves to our wielded mind
We fail to accept that we're confined
The irony of this
Is it not amiss?

Written by Cyroth on 12.12.2010 at 11:27

Confined

Wind is blowing tears away
The sky, darkened clouds rule from above
Wind is blowing thoughts away
We lose sight to the rain

Cold and numb, is there not worse?
Life itself is a curse
The cruel truth of our existence
We fade one by one in the distance

I, the rational being
I live with no meaning
I negate the obvious
My curse of being conscious

Slaves to our wielded mind
We fail to accept that we're confined
The irony of this
Is it not amiss?

Well it was good to see that I wasn't the last post on this thread for a while. I like browsing through and seeing your names as the last post
That means something new got added. This makes me happy.


The poem itself is rooted in deep analogy. The first stanza seems to introduce us to our backdrop of sullenness... But then the 2nd stanza gets to the root of the analogy. That life is cruel, and each of us fades, as we die and our memory is forgotten.
The third stanza is more personal, and speaks of the viewpoint of the writer, but this has more of an argumentative meaning, since the writer calls it a curse to be so.

The first two lines of the last stanza are indeed the most profound, that we are slaves to our own thoughts. This can be taken in any manner of meaning, but the essence of it is, we can only see what we wish to see, and no further. Then you point to the irony of it all. It is indeed ironic.

The last line seems to be a struggle... you're both searching for a rhyming word and a way to end the poem, but this line seems a bit awkward and yet not.. it's sing-songy so the sound of it is strange to my mind but overall, this is a very nice poem, quaint in parts, and profound in others. Nice one!



Well, I will end this post in honor of Chuck Schuldiner R.I.P. We miss you brother. May your legacy live on in us!

I have finally written something again!!! I couldn't sleep last night so I tried to use my time.. I won't publish it here right now because it's still a draft full of weird syntax, I want it to be a little bit better.


Hmm.. This is a completely useless post indeed.

Corridors fade to ash,
Trees morph and change form.
Screams and voices echoe and pierce;
Eternity seems so far away...
Vessels emptied.
Walls run red and close in...
Relfections with a mind of their own...
Silent yet still cannot hear my thoughts,
As it is more deafening than sound itself.
Children laugh in the merriment of their sordid torture.
The dystopian dynasty of endless abyss-worthy nothingness
has merely begun.
Startled by the dead,
lost, hanging, lingering...
Showing all what we are,
We are them.

OK, it's still not corrected, but here is the last thing I've written. This is certainly not the best thing I've ever written but at least it kept me busy for a while when I couldn't sleep..




The rush of a train crushing your brain
Leaving you scattered, breathless, destroyed, restless
Tomorrow seems far away, there's no light of the day


When all the lights have gone down
And you got your goodnight kiss
Tucked in a warm feathered bed
Check what's under the mattress


'Cause when finally midnight comes
It's all fear and crackle and hiss
No matters how well your prayers were said
All you've got is your mind in a mess


The rush of cold sweat, that's all that you get
Try to close your eyes, fight away Her spies (don't believe her lies)
Uneven sounds in the dark, clad shapes over the arch


Dare pushing the door, stare at Death in the eyes
All your demons are drumming on your skull
Hellish masquerade of the thoughts in your mind
Someone please, get this circle broken!


Turn on the light if you think that it's wise
Hope your soul is so strong, that the pain it will lull
Take comfort in that you won't see 'cause you're blind
The Lady of the Night knows all of your burden


Alone you carry the load, alone you must walk this road
Travel the land of Insomnia, fight demons of Dementia
But alone always, forlorn always, dying always

Written by whatsacow on 14.12.2010 at 06:26

Corridors fade to ash,
Trees morph and change form.
Screams and voices echoe and pierce;
Eternity seems so far away...
Vessels emptied.
Walls run red and close in...
Relfections with a mind of their own...
Silent yet still cannot hear my thoughts,
As it is more deafening than sound itself.
Children laugh in the merriment of their sordid torture.
The dystopian dynasty of endless abyss-worthy nothingness
has merely begun.
Startled by the dead,
lost, hanging, lingering...
Showing all what we are,
We are them.

Why is it the first thing I spot is a typo? Lol! I take my job too seriously...I do know, however, that the spellchecker on metalstorm does not like british english...

Anyways, on to your poem...This is an extremely interesting piece, which seems mainly based on visuals, which seem like some sort of nightmare you had, since everything seems really distorted. Numerous things shape-shift as well. What a strange and frightening vision. Kinda reminds me of some of the dreams I have on a regular basis.

Written by Wilkinson on 14.12.2010 at 22:18

OK, it's still not corrected, but here is the last thing I've written. This is certainly not the best thing I've ever written but at least it kept me busy for a while when I couldn't sleep..




The rush of a train crushing your brain
Leaving you scattered, breathless, destroyed, restless
Tomorrow seems far away, there's no light of the day


When all the lights have gone down
And you got your goodnight kiss
Tucked in a warm feathered bed
Check what's under the mattress


'Cause when finally midnight comes
It's all fear and crackle and hiss
No matters how well your prayers were said
All you've got is your mind in a mess


The rush of cold sweat, that's all that you get
Try to close your eyes, fight away Her spies (don't believe her lies)
Uneven sounds in the dark, clad shapes over the arch


Dare pushing the door, stare at Death in the eyes
All your demons are drumming on your skull
Hellish masquerade of the thoughts in your mind
Someone please, get this circle broken!


Turn on the light if you think that it's wise
Hope your soul is so strong, that the pain it will lull
Take comfort in that you won't see 'cause you're blind
The Lady of the Night knows all of your burden


Alone you carry the load, alone you must walk this road
Travel the land of Insomnia, fight demons of Dementia
But alone always, forlorn always, dying always

I know what you mean when you're not satisfied with a work, but indeed, writing is writing, and it's good for us. Keeps things even and allows us to relieve our thoughts and worries, however random, onto the page.


The poem itself seems ALMOST as though it were written by a madman. That's very interesting indeed, since madmen can utter some of the strangest and most fascinating things ever devised by the human mind. I noted the interesting pattern you presented with your stanzas as well. 3 4 4 3 4 4 3 with each triplet rhyming twice in each line, with the exception of the middle line, which rhymes three times, except for the last stanza. It almost seems like a terrifying children's tale. Something you would tell your kid to make him/her behave and wrap up tight A truly fascinating piece nonetheless. It does seem to need some work, but it's good indeed that you wrote something.

While you were working on this, I was working on one of my own, which turned out pretty darn well. I'm pleased with it at least, so it's good progress, since it's been hard to write anything I was pleased with in a very long time. Things seem to be flowing better anyways, thanks to all of you guys. Keep up the good work!


My head hurts and I've got work coming in, so I'll go for now. It's been a frustrating weekend, to say the least. Will see you all again soon. Take care!


Raging Dreamer

Havnt been here for a while whats a loit of nice works we got here

Whats - what a nice work, lil pfilosophical work, hard to analise it if I dont know what make you wrote it, this is good, can be quote in opening part of mysdtical apocoliptical film

Soul - what I lost
Its awsome,remainds me my type of writing and its be good to read in lil early time of year, october, ot perfectly maches, fallin leafes, now snow, did I miss, no there next year to

Soul - good one, but my advise is those part works post all in one or one by one, because I read same time I and II now after longer time III I lost it , it can be perfect poetry for doomy muisc, album whit title Poetry

Whats - Borded, one more ghood funeral doom whit dark touch, but I didnyt like title, it didnt fits there , IMO, I would use Dark Traqvillity insted of Bored, but its only my thoughts , every story has roots , if you have it then bored fits

Next one again pfilosophical, lil how I feel right now, lil love, anti love,. pain but its only smart part of great work, perfect poem for doom metal

next one is good to,

Soul - Storm Of Doubts
Maybe weuird but I see lady aproching me, she's half death, but still looks good, to sleep or not sleep whit her, tampation is huge, and then there storm of doubts .... wird example but thats what came in my mind reaiding it

whats - awesoem works, deep pfilosphical thoughts. I like it all seems be written in +/- same time,

Soul - good one

Wilkinson's to

PS in end it was lil harder read I cant do poems so many good once in so short time, I was lil away from poetry in last weeks, it hepens, seems now Im beck, till ... never know

Another 3 poems wrote by me long ago.I think they go hand-in-hand because of the "My", signifying something more personal. Also the transition from one to another kinda works, so enjoy:

My fairytale

Is there a meaning to this day?
Is it you who gave me a way?
Hope sinking through my fingers
My happiness that forever lingers

Is it you in those shades?
Come closer as this life fades
Carry my soul high above
All in name of this love

Bring me to my knees
Make me feel at ease
But all of this is not true
Not even you

A figure of my imagination
A lifeless loving intention
As I bid you farewell
My fairytale

My final hour

Hollow sky above of me
Can't you see my agony?
Sing your harmony to me
Mother Nature's tranquility

Waiting for the final hour
I have left no power
And let my soul fly away
There's no other place for me to stay

Too much suffering I bared
For the ending story that makes me scared
The reflections of the past
In my memories they ever last

Silence of the night
Filling me with fright
Too many questions in my head
Oh so much I wish I was dead

My world

Oh weeping world, I can not get a hold
I fall, but where I don't know
Waking up on a field of snow
Oh, so cold

Inside my head
I took these steps
Nor wind, nor snow could stop my steps
Because inside of me I was living dead

I could not be touched
Pain was non-existent
I could stop breathing and still be living
Then I realized I had everything

But all ceased in an instant
And people over flood all-around
The noise of life, the screeching sound
In which I drown

What are dreams?
The things that bring false hope...
Curses.
The things you hold so tightly you crush them.

What is hope?
A taunting,
a tearing apart
A promise of torment

What am I?
Failure.
Empty.
Pathetic.

Destiny, the building blocks of misery.
Pitiless and merciless, I thrives on the soul,
Providing more burdens with every stone cast.

The void. Where I want to be...

Free Man's Love

There is a lady walking down a road, she is slovly aprouching
Im not shore me or eternity
There is young woman breathing quaetly whyle hiding her face
She whispered in my ear before say goodby:''Only Free Man Can Love''

I know a man who sell starts to the moon
And bought moon from the stars
I know a man who knows where star children are sleeping
And in slilant sleep they saying:'' Only free man can love''

I know a place where rivers makes ice and ice makes rivers again
It is a place where man can read sighns
A place what evil can not recah
Where you can understand why only free man can love

Only free man can love , Free from
greed, envy, anger, hate, jeluasy and evil thoughts

@Bad English: very impressive, although it has it's confusing moments because of the grammar issues, I like it very much.

Written by Cyroth on 18.12.2010 at 09:12

@Bad English: very impressive, although it has it's confusing moments because of the grammar issues, I like it very much.

Grammer well it will bee changed soon

Seems you guys are getting some really good inspiration. I want to read through everything but I've been working some extremely long, harsh shifts at work and soon will be going about 36 hours with no sleep, so I wouldn't do any of you justice by trying to do reviews or comments when I'm this exhausted. I will try to get to them over the holiday, since I have the 24th and 25th off work with both jobs. Keep up the awesome work guys. I've gotta try to get some sleep now. Take care all and have a great holiday.

Raging Dreamer

I'm getting some of my poetry published! I have to choose 4 poems to send into a local magazine to be published... can anybody help me choose out of the ones I've posted?

My latest creation and maybe, the most profound and beautiful I ever done

Frozen field of life

In the arms of this thin veil of white powder
I'm freezing, I'm dying?I'm feeling
As my soul depraves under the eventide
Snowflakes ride the winds of winter

I yearn to fall slowly to this earth
To my grave, a blanket of snow
Roses to color the blank scenery
Winter, the queen of my misery

My ears numb, but I hear odes of a violin
Slowly cold touches my skin, I'm dressed too thin
So cold, like the earth beneath my feet
My tears frozen, I cannot weep

5 hours passed since midnight
I find myself still alive, thou I'm not sure
My eyelids heavy, this cold is torture
I may not survive to see a new daylight

I've resigned any salvation from this white death
And at last I can't feel any more sorrow
Still inside I'm not hollow
Oh no?I gave my last breath?

Awesome work man, poetry is clesning, poetry is like whisky and sex, less you have it better satifaction and taste you get from it, this work proves it, exelent job, dark frozen poem, I need only look outside

Sanity's Demise

Dreaming of the dead, the malevolent spirits of the past,
That haunting, the persistant wrapping.
Knocking on the walls of my mind, eating away at my sanity.
A cracking noise in the distance, a paralysed youth...
autistic in emotion, and plagued with ill will and spite.
The ground opens up and swallows everything I have worked for.
And your gaze passes through me like an apparition through a wall...
My heart beats fast but not at all as I dine with the skeletons in my closet,
and the structure of the bridges are unmoved by a flame...
The past can't be buried, it refuses,
It taunts relentlessly.
Its guiles pierce and twist and draws blood that doesn't weep, but gushes,
running a river of torn hearts, tears and swallowed pride,
It forks around you, you're untouched by my pain, as if you can't see it,
even if you are the cause...
You are oblivious to your tongue and body, off in your own mind,
while the empty shell seeks and destroys.
You cannot begin to understand the damages of a smile,
the striking blow of a look,
or worse still, grating of flesh that is ignorance to my very existance.

Brief but concise....


The Cry Of The Hopeless Children

Their curse began at birth,
nature of life is relentless to them
hapiness is light years far away,
sealed deep in their dreams

No roof, no place to stay,
no sparkle, without aspiration to pray,
only fear in their eyes,
unimaginable torments in drops of tears

Every few seconds one falls,
into the embrace of infertile earth,
the earth that is ruthless to them,
in all aspects of survival

A bad consolation,
after every day of temptation,
is what they got,
is what they do not deserve…

Written by Cyroth on 17.12.2010 at 17:06

Another 3 poems wrote by me long ago.I think they go hand-in-hand because of the "My", signifying something more personal. Also the transition from one to another kinda works, so enjoy:

My fairytale

Is there a meaning to this day?
Is it you who gave me a way?
Hope sinking through my fingers
My happiness that forever lingers

Is it you in those shades?
Come closer as this life fades
Carry my soul high above
All in name of this love

Bring me to my knees
Make me feel at ease
But all of this is not true
Not even you

A figure of my imagination
A lifeless loving intention
As I bid you farewell
My fairytale

My final hour

Hollow sky above of me
Can't you see my agony?
Sing your harmony to me
Mother Nature's tranquility

Waiting for the final hour
I have left no power
And let my soul fly away
There's no other place for me to stay

Too much suffering I bared
For the ending story that makes me scared
The reflections of the past
In my memories they ever last

Silence of the night
Filling me with fright
Too many questions in my head
Oh so much I wish I was dead

My world

Oh weeping world, I can not get a hold
I fall, but where I don't know
Waking up on a field of snow
Oh, so cold

Inside my head
I took these steps
Nor wind, nor snow could stop my steps
Because inside of me I was living dead

I could not be touched
Pain was non-existent
I could stop breathing and still be living
Then I realized I had everything

But all ceased in an instant
And people over flood all-around
The noise of life, the screeching sound
In which I drown

Well, let's see if I can get a little commenting done. It's been a long, harsh holiday season and I'm really glad it's over. The holidays are so hard for me. I always get extremely depressed and overwhelmed with responsibilities. But I need to try to get back to what's important. Let's see how many poems I can go through tonight.


My Fairytale - Hmm this one's interesting. It's pretty straight-forward though, in a way. Seems to be lacking in some emotion that you were trying to portray. It could be because it's an earlier poem. I went through the same thing when I first started writing, but the meaning is there.

My Final Hour - This one was a bit better on the emotional part. It had some imagery and very mild atmosphere, with the song being mentioned and mother nature's tranquility. You should lengthen this type of poetic 'monologue' (if you will) and delve even further into building an atmosphere so crisp you could feel the leaves cut your fingers as you read. Still, I loved your mention of the reflections of the past and your memories. Good emotional expression!


My World - Again this is very good emotional expressionism. You started with some good atmosphere, and that was good. Perhaps you could expand on that, and mix it with this emotion you were feeling? I love the emotion though. Seems like you were feeling isolated in a way like when you're in a crowd, but you don't feel like you're a part of it. Then everything comes swarming in and it's just too much. You feel crowded. It's like.. we... when we are the depressive personality that we are, we almost enjoy our depression and loneliness, because it's what we've become comfortable with. It's what we've become accustomed to. I know this feeling all too well.


In all, it was interesting to see the progress you made between the three poems. Keep working at your expressions and environments. Would like to see you pull me into a world of your own creation, so that I could drown within your words.

Written by whatsacow on 18.12.2010 at 02:02

What are dreams?
The things that bring false hope...
Curses.
The things you hold so tightly you crush them.

What is hope?
A taunting,
a tearing apart
A promise of torment

What am I?
Failure.
Empty.
Pathetic.

Destiny, the building blocks of misery.
Pitiless and merciless, I thrives on the soul,
Providing more burdens with every stone cast.

The void. Where I want to be...

In this poem, it seems that you are desperately ejecting any sense of positive emotion, because of some pain you are feeling emotionally. You don't want to feel. You wish to be numb. It's almost with madness that you are writing the words. They border on the insane and your condemning nature reveals the pain in your soul. Am I on the right track?

Don't be afraid to use the words 'these' and 'those' in your poems to make them crisper and more personal and real, rather than using an ambiguous 'the'. I believe it would help with the emotional part. Otherwise, this is a very painful expression of some very real mental anguish (or so it seems). I like to read these types of things, genuine expressions of whatever you're feeling, nomatter how they come out (even slightly insane). Good work!

Written by Bad English on 18.12.2010 at 02:11

Free Man's Love

There is a lady walking down a road, she is slovly aprouching
Im not shore me or eternity
There is young woman breathing quaetly whyle hiding her face
She whispered in my ear before say goodby:''Only Free Man Can Love''

I know a man who sell starts to the moon
And bought moon from the stars
I know a man who knows where star children are sleeping
And in slilant sleep they saying:'' Only free man can love''

I know a place where rivers makes ice and ice makes rivers again
It is a place where man can read sighns
A place what evil can not recah
Where you can understand why only free man can love

Only free man can love , Free from
greed, envy, anger, hate, jeluasy and evil thoughts

Have you ever noticed, that when you go to make a post, if you read what you write before you hit the post reply button, there are red lines under a lot of your words? Right click on these and they will give you suggestive spellings for what they think you are trying to say. This might help you a bit with at least the spelling part of the English, and you don't even have to be good at it that way.

Ok now that i've gotten that out of my system lol... sorry if I offend... On to your poem...


This is a very interesting one, filled with visuals and mild paradoxes. I quite enjoy the visuals actually. They are very strong due to the way you worded the story :there is a lady, i know a man, i know a place... all of these bring the visuals up front, making them very crisp. Great job on this! I felt very at peace when reading it. Keep up the great work!

Written by Cyroth on 23.12.2010 at 01:21

My latest creation and maybe, the most profound and beautiful I ever done

Frozen field of life

In the arms of this thin veil of white powder
I'm freezing, I'm dying?I'm feeling
As my soul depraves under the eventide
Snowflakes ride the winds of winter

I yearn to fall slowly to this earth
To my grave, a blanket of snow
Roses to color the blank scenery
Winter, the queen of my misery

My ears numb, but I hear odes of a violin
Slowly cold touches my skin, I'm dressed too thin
So cold, like the earth beneath my feet
My tears frozen, I cannot weep

5 hours passed since midnight
I find myself still alive, thou I'm not sure
My eyelids heavy, this cold is torture
I may not survive to see a new daylight

I've resigned any salvation from this white death
And at last I can't feel any more sorrow
Still inside I'm not hollow
Oh no?I gave my last breath?

holy crap man! this is amazing! The visuals and atmosphere are so perfect and encompassing. Aside from a few ever so minor grammar issues (which only need a minor tweak), this is just a simply amazing piece. Perhaps your best! I love the detail you used for your descriptions and the way you used all of your senses here. This is what i'm talking about when i refer to building your environment. This pulls the reader in, where they are then your captive. You can then relate to them whatever you are feeling, because they are a part of the atmosphere, the environment .. you create. The emotional aspects are also well-worked in. You did a fantastic job on this one! Congrats! I loved this! Keep up the amazing work! I'd like to see more like this from you!

Written by whatsacow on 29.12.2010 at 11:17

Sanity's Demise

Dreaming of the dead, the malevolent spirits of the past,
That haunting, the persistant wrapping.
Knocking on the walls of my mind, eating away at my sanity.
A cracking noise in the distance, a paralysed youth...
autistic in emotion, and plagued with ill will and spite.
The ground opens up and swallows everything I have worked for.
And your gaze passes through me like an apparition through a wall...
My heart beats fast but not at all as I dine with the skeletons in my closet,
and the structure of the bridges are unmoved by a flame...
The past can't be buried, it refuses,
It taunts relentlessly.
Its guiles pierce and twist and draws blood that doesn't weep, but gushes,
running a river of torn hearts, tears and swallowed pride,
It forks around you, you're untouched by my pain, as if you can't see it,
even if you are the cause...
You are oblivious to your tongue and body, off in your own mind,
while the empty shell seeks and destroys.
You cannot begin to understand the damages of a smile,
the striking blow of a look,
or worse still, grating of flesh that is ignorance to my very existance.

Wow! Again you never cease to amaze me with your ability to draw me in with your words! This one seems to have the perfect mix of emotion and atmosphere.

Line 2 - wrapping should be Rapping (like knocking on the door). wrapping is like putting something around something else...like wrapping a gift... or wrapping your arms around someone... It's not uncommon so don't feel bad.

Aside from that and a minor misspell in the last line, this is just an ultra-amazing piece.. I love your use of metaphors and how you use the environment to describe your emotion. Each line is a freshly written visual with emotion blended to perfection, just like a fine cup of coffee - to perfection.

Seems like this was written about someone from a past relationship that you haven't been able to get over yet. She's with someone else and it's driving you crazy? At least this is what I can sense from it. I could be wrong.

Awesome job on the poem, nonetheless... Keep up this really astounding work! You're starting to really blossom as a poet, not that you didn't already kick major ass at it!

Written by Abattoir on 01.01.2011 at 15:48

Brief but concise....


The Cry Of The Hopeless Children

Their curse began at birth,
nature of life is relentless to them
hapiness is light years far away,
sealed deep in their dreams

No roof, no place to stay,
no sparkle, without aspiration to pray,
only fear in their eyes,
unimaginable torments in drops of tears

Every few seconds one falls,
into the embrace of infertile earth,
the earth that is ruthless to them,
in all aspects of survival

A bad consolation,
after every day of temptation,
is what they got,
is what they do not deserve?

This one is oh so true for so many children in the world today. Really good description of their plight. Makes the reader really feel for these kids. Good job!

Written by Raging Dreamer on 02.01.2011 at 09:31

Written by whatsacow on 29.12.2010 at 11:17

Sanity's Demise

Dreaming of the dead, the malevolent spirits of the past,
That haunting, the persistant wrapping.
Knocking on the walls of my mind, eating away at my sanity.
A cracking noise in the distance, a paralysed youth...
autistic in emotion, and plagued with ill will and spite.
The ground opens up and swallows everything I have worked for.
And your gaze passes through me like an apparition through a wall...
My heart beats fast but not at all as I dine with the skeletons in my closet,
and the structure of the bridges are unmoved by a flame...
The past can't be buried, it refuses,
It taunts relentlessly.
Its guiles pierce and twist and draws blood that doesn't weep, but gushes,
running a river of torn hearts, tears and swallowed pride,
It forks around you, you're untouched by my pain, as if you can't see it,
even if you are the cause...
You are oblivious to your tongue and body, off in your own mind,
while the empty shell seeks and destroys.
You cannot begin to understand the damages of a smile,
the striking blow of a look,
or worse still, grating of flesh that is ignorance to my very existance.

Wow! Again you never cease to amaze me with your ability to draw me in with your words! This one seems to have the perfect mix of emotion and atmosphere.

Line 2 - wrapping should be Rapping (like knocking on the door). wrapping is like putting something around something else...like wrapping a gift... or wrapping your arms around someone... It's not uncommon so don't feel bad.

Aside from that and a minor misspell in the last line, this is just an ultra-amazing piece.. I love your use of metaphors and how you use the environment to describe your emotion. Each line is a freshly written visual with emotion blended to perfection, just like a fine cup of coffee - to perfection.

Seems like this was written about someone from a past relationship that you haven't been able to get over yet. She's with someone else and it's driving you crazy? At least this is what I can sense from it. I could be wrong.

Awesome job on the poem, nonetheless... Keep up this really astounding work! You're starting to really blossom as a poet, not that you didn't already kick major ass at it!

Yeah well sorry, but i'm to happy ATM to write more poems. It could be a while lol

The girl with the watering can, restoring life to the dead,
Echoing vibrance into those that she touches;
And igniting fire in the crushed and desolate.
Her stare is cold, yet hypnotic,
Her pose is strong, and yet she is frail.
She bares her gifts, and sings hymns of the equinox,
A time of new life, love, and loss.
Tragedy still looms, but with her, it's bearable.
With her, it means something...
The girl with the watering can, running nearly on empty,
How many can she save before she withers herself?
Before that contageous smile fades,
And she returns from the dust which she came.