Poetry

[Calamire]

Miscellaneous poetry ideas can go here. :domo:

[Isis]

I don't know what any of this stuff is: it's all snippets from months ago, bits of poems never written. So you can take, cut up, move around, mutilate, rewrite, do whatever with these bits and pieces.


the horses are unsettled; the bouncing
of one would put me on edge, precise
to the core in my waiting, but the whole
herd? The ground is thunder and sky.
Even hammer-men fear of falling.


backs to nothing
there is a right to invoke the gods
who walk among men, call them up
from their place in their rumbling
herd, a clarion call, low voices
tumbling stones in throats: smooth
jumbled not of flesh




i close the book, stare at the cover:
something foggy, that train station
from the second chapter, impressionist
nocturnal blues amorphous, they want
to diffuse out, smoke up the room


fuck you, homework. i try to refuse
the call of self-importance, expectations
we need but hate because when its hard enough
to just keep your eyes open, who needs
a shove into bright flourescent light?

la tierra de LaLa: poet land. fuego, fire
on the southern plains
of my head.



i hope you've got time to answer my note:
i don't care what that time is, or when it is, or even
how it's shaped (because it certainly has
one of those - some bits of time are as cats,
lithe, not ready to be petted, fleeing
out the flap-door
just when you want them)



as a the sort of person
i pretend i am, i think
i'm supposed to get teary-eyed
behind steering wheels or upon
seeing young men in hospital beds
with the concrete sunset out the window but,
i just can't do it.



in this time you
know everyone, each scrap of face.
Every kid's birthday, times fallen in gravel,
every time you passed that ancient red ribbon
through your hands - it has happened before,
just slightly different barely noticable in fact
until the thousandth, millionth permutation
when the change in clouds, different song
on the radio - when all that
becomes a new time. You will meet the same people again,
and again, and watch them become.

yellowed, strange old advertisements, patient
or not, mother tapping feet,

i do not need help to blow these candles out.

[Skye]

These are mostly scraps of lines I either scrapped or couldn't work into a poem/couldn't elaborate on effectively. Please, take and change to fit your needs.

There was something [exquisite/desperate/dramatic/delicate] in the lay of her hands,
feeble, shirt collars and red lips pressed to perfection.
*

who needs a heart with bass beats for veins?
*

and that night she couldn't remember a single thing he had said
but counted and recounted his stale fingerprints like stars
*

Title: The Sensualists

primeval lightning ignites the fire in our irises,
a large-scale expression of our skin-cell explosions
and we cringe, caught up in the fear and carnality
beating from our impotent hearts
*

I caught a poem under my bedroom window last night,
and, once it was safe, let it amble between my fingers and lips and
back again, until it [...]
*

Title: Nothing Says "I Lust For You" Quite Like Terza Rima
*

smudged-out lips, like a painting with too much noise
and paint
*

eyes like powdered cinnamon
cinder block eyes

[Hypocrit]

I got a few one liners myself. I write em all down and try to put em in random poems if they fit.

sex without the "x"
"se" my speciality doesn't come easy
and it's not your death, my ex
niether is it your reemergence, cause I don't like being shown up

settle this poison on your tongue
taste it, sweet salty rum
let the accident become a divine intervention
let your memories be the subject of this dissection

[Common Sense]

I was trying to continue writing some more slam poems and I came up with this decent line..atleast in my eyes. I'm sure more political poets like Hypo could integrate into their poems. I can't find anything to fit it into.

Leaders outcry to have their morals
Reality hits them
Now on their knees for alleged orals