Less than great so far

Maria2394

Literotica Guru
Joined
Feb 14, 2002
Posts
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Here is a little thread to put the poem/poems that you are most proud of. Must be yours, no borrowing.

It's good to dream big
but dreaming small is better
than not dreaming at all



~~~~

Piercing the Labia of Light

Pink Amaryllis, intruder from beneath
soil and sand, usually hidden from sight,

Her succulent spikes were olive green
impaling a blustery, morning sky.

The rising sun was a scorching jewel
on the belly of the body of light, and

Clouds separated, like sea foam departing
as darkness receded, pulling her skin back tight.

The bold sky was taunted, became taut and bluer,
the sun quivered as if exploding,

And wisteria blossoms were amethyst charms,
unleashing a secret in wind’s burly laughter-

Amaryllis has a belt made of diamonds,

And she’ll wear it when the day
falls prey to the patience of night.



:)




this poem is open for constructive suggestions

;)
 
The Yellow Fox

The forest is silent as an image
from a postcard, our only audience
here are trees and falling snow.
As we start to renew the tracks

we made yesterday, I hear sunlight
rummaging through the branches,
following us like an invisible fox
to places that will soon be forgotten.

And as the snow melts, all that’s left is you -
a poem shaped out of things I never
knew I had.
 
It will be interesting to see how each poet sees their own. I won't include any editorial with my post apart from saying I don't know what quality in this piece sets it apart from my others. Perhaps it was the music I felt as I wrote it.

Sonate (ad libitum) a violin


sempre risoluto -
virtuoso mine
your bow flowing across my strings
an introduction to the melody
warming me, seducing my voice.

cantible -
coax the rising pitch from my mellow song
artfully disguising that it's you
who stirs my heart
to seek these notes.

tenerezza vibrato -
as you draw each harmony
hidden within this tightly strung
instrument up from the soul
of the music we make together.

allegro, presto -
each note struck
with dancing fingers and supple wrist,
the heat of fevered performance
exhorting, pleading, needing
your kiss, to make me sing.

a largo, grazioso -
you touch me now,
only to hold resonance in my voice
your timing such, that I cannot fall
from this sustained throb

lento con meno mosso -
exquisitely held in balance
despite the clever counterpoint
of my strings to your bow.

a piu amore quasi troppo -
when it seems my sobbing
ache will pass from pleasure,
through pain, into death
don't let me fade;
poco a poco animato.

a passione vigaroso -
con tempo di valse son fils -

into a final spin
that will lift me elated
up into the paradise of your love.

A poem of mine is never finished, any constructive comments are always welcome. :rose:
 
champagne1982 said:
It will be interesting to see how each poet sees their own. I won't include any editorial with my post apart from saying I don't know what quality in this piece sets it apart from my others. Perhaps it was the music I felt as I wrote it.

Sonate (ad libitum) a violin


sempre risoluto -
virtuoso mine
your bow flowing across my strings
an introduction to the melody
warming me, seducing my voice.

cantible -
coax the rising pitch from my mellow song
artfully disguising that it's you
who stirs my heart
to seek these notes.

tenerezza vibrato -
as you draw each harmony
hidden within this tightly strung
instrument up from the soul
of the music we make together.

allegro, presto -
each note struck
with dancing fingers and supple wrist,
the heat of fevered performance
exhorting, pleading, needing
your kiss, to make me sing.

a largo, grazioso -
you touch me now,
only to hold resonance in my voice
your timing such, that I cannot fall
from this sustained throb

lento con meno mosso -
exquisitely held in balance
despite the clever counterpoint
of my strings to your bow.

a piu amore quasi troppo -
when it seems my sobbing
ache will pass from pleasure,
through pain, into death
don't let me fade;
poco a poco animato.

a passione vigaroso -
con tempo di valse son fils -

into a final spin
that will lift me elated
up into the paradise of your love.

A poem of mine is never finished, any constructive comments are always welcome. :rose:



hey champ:)

I love this poem. Thanks for posting!


I think you could lose the "up" in this last part. Since "lift" implies "up".


a passione vigaroso -
con tempo di valse son fils -
into a final spin
that will lift me elated
(up) into the paradise of your love.

~~~

my poems are never really finished either :rose:
 
Maria2394 said:
Here is a little thread to put the poem/poems that you are most proud of. Must be yours, no borrowing.
I don't know that I would say it's the one of which I'm most proud (a fond father loves all his children, even the less attractive ones) but I like this one quite a lot, because it's silly.

I like silly, I guess.
 
Tzara said:
I don't know that I would say it's the one of which I'm most proud (a fond father loves all his children, even the less attractive ones) but I like this one quite a lot, because it's silly.

I like silly, I guess.


LOL :) that's great! where is the dog? :D

I would be proud of that one too


:rose:
 
Maria2394 said:
LOL :) that's great! where is the dog? :D

I would be proud of that one too


:rose:
Reduced to snips and snails and puppy dog tails, I fear.
 
Well, the poems of mine that I tend to like are often those that others don't. Not the fancy prodosy juggling pieces, but the simpller ones.

I can't possibly pick a favourite, but here's one of them:

Trainspotting And A Girl

Local transit at night,
every town puddle of random lights
greets the weary to open eyes.

Passing by,
they roll across her face
cling to her doe eyed fancy,
polished coat buttons
and lip gloss,

but leave me, unstuck
these days.
 
Maria2394 said:
hey champ:)

I love this poem. Thanks for posting!


I think you could lose the "up" in this last part. Since "lift" implies "up".


a passione vigaroso -
con tempo di valse son fils -
into a final spin
that will lift me elated
(up) into the paradise of your love.

~~~

my poems are never really finished either :rose:
At first I agreed with you but then I remembered the syllable count; con tempo di valse son fils - I take as meaning, in waltz tempo and spinning the music upwards in a grand finale. I needed 24 metrical feet in English and a statement that this love is heavenly in nature, not earthy, thus paradise must be "up" to fill both these requirements.

That's the problem with older poems that don't have written notes, I forget the initial rationale behind the way it was written. Thank you for pointing this out, it reminds me of when I obsessed over syllable count in all my poems.
 
champagne1982 said:
At first I agreed with you but then I remembered the syllable count; con tempo di valse son fils - I take as meaning, in waltz tempo and spinning the music upwards in a grand finale. I needed 24 metrical feet in English and a statement that this love is heavenly in nature, not earthy, thus paradise must be "up" to fill both these requirements.

That's the problem with older poems that don't have written notes, I forget the initial rationale behind the way it was written. Thank you for pointing this out, it reminds me of when I obsessed over syllable count in all my poems.

ya know, at first when I read it, I was thinking it had to do with syllable count, honestly. I just am not good at form at all, so usually hesitant to offer any type of crit or suggestions. I love the poem, and i am grateful you explained why you did what you did. Its good way to learn :)

:heart:

maria
 
I also like this one of mine, since it's about one of my favourite poets

Plath

I.

You caught a wild salmon
and watched it’s blackened
carcass drip over the coals

The stars watched you eat
away the last of your innocence

But you never noticed

II.

You once caught lightning
and stored it in a bell jar.

You stood mesmerized
as it danced and slowly died
in the vacuum

But still you stood there,
watching.

III.

Snow brushed its hand
against your green shroud
as you were carried out.

The night uttered a silent
eulogy as your ashes were
scattered

but no-one could hear you
still weeping.
 
ooohhh!! vampiredust, that gave me chills. good work :) thanks for posting

:rose:
 
A little something

Hi! Relatively new around here, but I'll try to stick around a while longer :D

A poem already published here (I hope it's ok). I post this one because he shows a glimpse of the very core of my being, and thus, my writing.

Some of you may have already read it ;)

Nemesis

Air crispy today
Ice on the wall, sun in the sky.
Foggy breath.
All is so calm, so calm.
Who would ever thought
My nights are violent ones.
Full of fights, full or frights.
The good memories
The bad memories
My memories are running in my mind
Crying,
Shouting,
Pleading,
Cursing.
Yelling at me for things undone
For thoughts un-acted upon
For images, stills of imagination
Empty of meaning, empty of life.
I’m my own Nemesis
Slashing my own being
Torturing it at night
When the guard is down.
Why sleep?
Why sleep at all when all I ever see
In the night
Are tortured images of my mind?
Tell me you monster!
But the monster in me never answers
He sits there, full of contempt,
Waiting for the night to fall upon my body.
Can’t let this happen.
Not again.
Can’t let him win.
So I battle, night upon night
I fight the monster in me
For I am my own Nemesis.
 
hey Prince :)

Thanks for posting your poem. It sounds like you are a tortured soul. hugs :)It is just fine that it was published here already. I just wanted to see poems that people are rather fond of, that they wrote. It gives me a glimpse into their souls, muawahahaha


just kidding...

oh, found another of mine, it is one I posted very early in my LIt days and I havent altered it but perhaps the removal of some unnecessary punctuation. I know this sounds vain, but I love to read this one, over and over, it probably isnt all that great, but I cant believe I wrote it, funny, huh

anyway-

Dyppan

do you ever feel as wasted as I do
by unwavering thirst for the morrow
or do you enjoy the flat saccharin after taste
of yesterday's delirious
i-think-i'm-in-love-with-you lies?

single sentence postcards
cancelled by frustration
delivered on wings of invisible winds;
I know they are there because I can hear them
tickling the chimes by my koi pond


undulate! diverge! dip! rise!
touch all the places you wished you could
when you squandered the chances you never took
evade, fly straight, no detours
no! not through her wood

don't you know you lose part of your soul
when you force yourself to split and moan
or deviate past a single limb
so you can go on
pretending your breath is nothing more
than a subtle summer breeze
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

as always, constructive crit is very welcome and will be considered :rose:
 
My favoritist poem by me ever

(version 3,026)

Lady's Blues in Winter

Lady in winter
thin, stooped, diminuendo
head bent, nodding forward
holding on almost gone
almost blowed and gone
like the last few leaves rasp and
flutter before they drift
crumbling
blowed and gone


Lady in winter
flutters through the room
blues cupped in her weary voice
fragile bones flutter almost gone
smiles at Papa, Count, and Sweets
Little Jazz cocks an eyebrow
winks, sets his hat back neat
as Lady flutters by


She drifts past the piano
almost gone, head sways
in swing time, fingers snap,
specter smiles sits
sings and blues is back
voice rasps and slips
drags behind the beat
in sinuous satin
rife with curving slur
knowing eyes bright
in love in vain
knowing blues ain’t nothin
but a pain in your heart
lady slides blues almost gone
smooth smoke blues
slide deliberate to the break


Her sentinels stand spraddled
axes bend bodies back
lips curve to metal almost gone
blowed and gone
sweet swing time
subsumed by the shape of jazz
shifting to a dissonant future
Bean, the aging patriarch
Frog, the soft heart
blow sweet fading almost gone

Then Prez indifferent
to time or custom
stands apart
anachronistic in time
a master at once
on it and outside of it
almost gone yet still insistent
Prez stands before her
battered by time and custom
but never defeated
blows timeless

Prez blows holding on
impeccably flowing backward
to Harlem bright with promise
mad with music
clanging with rhythm
love locks between them
lady’s eyes widen, head nods
eyes lock on distant past
Prez smiles big eyes for Lady
love flows between them
locked in blues before the fall of time
almost gone
 
Um....a correction. I just paged through a backup directory on my puter and found one I'd forgotten.

This is my favourite ever, because it's an experiment that paid off. And while writing it, I learned quite a lot about the mechanics of abstraction.
Plus, it looks cool. :cool:

a bitter bit

i'm
a
bit

an
on

cut
off

by

an it

that
sits

silent

between

a this
and a that

on the spot

where I'd fit

if it wasn't
for it

that made this
and that split

leaving me, a bit
here with just this

and that over there,
the that that I miss

when the it, that abyss
stole my that, cut me off

flipped my bit, killed my on
strayed away, left me this

blocked my path to that that

so i switched to an off
by collision with it

once an on
now an off

still
a
bit
 
oh My gosh, Angeline, Liar, thank you both so much for posting these.

Ange, I do remember reading this, and thinking how long, how hard you must have worked and then realized how effortless you make it look. :heart:

really, is that revision 3000+ ? IM just curious because some of my work, like the frog poems, well, I try to "fix' them and then lose the essence so I get frustrated and leave them alone and then get angry at myself and dont wanna look at them for ages..


Liar:) I see the abstract you soeak of, but that , in the poem, is totally understandable, and understated. I love it. Thanks for sharing:)

:rose:

maria
 
Maria2394 said:
oh My gosh, Angeline, Liar, thank you both so much for posting these.

Ange, I do remember reading this, and thinking how long, how hard you must have worked and then realized how effortless you make it look. :heart:

really, is that revision 3000+ ? IM just curious because some of my work, like the frog poems, well, I try to "fix' them and then lose the essence so I get frustrated and leave them alone and then get angry at myself and dont wanna look at them for ages..


Liar:) I see the abstract you soeak of, but that , in the poem, is totally understandable, and understated. I love it. Thanks for sharing:)

:rose:

maria

Well maybe really version 20 or so. :)

I know it needs punctuation and maybe some line shifting, some verbs may be off cause I keep moving stuff around lol, but it's elegaic for me and very meaningful. Others have commented well on it in its variations, but I just love it for the music, the jazz and those lives.

Your Dyppan is gorgeous. Your talent rolled off the screen from the very start.
:kiss:
 
I like this one of mine:

Fishing on the River Thames with Dad

Shoals of sunlight
swarmed in the bottom
of the net. I imagined
fish being there instead,
not this junk every cast
brought in:

wire squid, grass wigs
and parts of a wind-up
owl. I could still hear it
twittering in the wind,
still trying to flap its rusty
wings. Another lure, son

you cried, rummaging
for plastic fakes. Hanging
it at the end of our makeshift
flag, you cast it in the empty
river; expecting them to accept
our surrender. But no-one did
that day.
 
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