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The Official POETICS thread

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It's quietly that the stone steps accept
the footfalls of a drunken angel, and yet,
I hear the sound ringing to my port
and I wait by the waves

as they eat away the docks and hulls
of anticipating ships. And gulls
swarm the air thick as night
and I wait by the wind

as it blows away the weary doubts
of travelers, and hardy sailors about
the swirling water, the hustle of the clouds
and I wait in bed.

She's gone where the water is colder,
the stone and mortar is far older.
The inept Captain ties a knot
and I wait in bed

Morning's gleam still holds the aeolian chill
of yesteryear's wait, steadfast in will.
The waves lap away by me the shore
and I shall search, once again, no more.
 
written on a psilocin trip:

embers outside. I lay on the
couch. solitary motion and
rest. in nighttime, air scented,
naturalistic and virtuous. feigned
virtue, nonetheless, has enraptured.
moon. moonlight. a dance, a
tranquility. open eyes, freely,
wistfully, and in generality,
wholly, just once, and now,
I'll take from you what you
loathe so in those
roaming eyes, so
bound. And you'll

take from me what I
doubt, really, what I
fear, truly, myself and
others, really, that I

care. I do care, really, it's
only a matter of
fear, truly, myself and
others, really, that I

care. I do. You. I'll lose.
You. You know.
I know. You'll try, though,
really. I can tell.

Know I'll never hate you,

know I'll always hate. I'll
loathe all that you
fear, truly, myself and
others, really that I

care.
I do.
 
Tears before they fall are painful
Flowing river dammed and shameful
Drop the cane and now you're able
Flowing tears past breast and navel

To earth they fall and wet the ground
Splashing tiny sodden sounds
Stirred the dust blows up and round
And sweet release you'll find you've found
 
Sullen soft and somber macabre thoughts
Child thrust asunder in the devils waltz
Hurts him deeply yet still he dances
Falling to and fro in the devils trances

He hears sweet singing softly echo
Against harsh light of mocking yellow
Towards it hurriedly he'll go
But another trick played... poor fellow
 
Hark, the soothing night approaches:
Cascading darkness from the heavens.
Now withdraw light, and put flame to torches,
illuminating what the sun cannot.

Look around, and in plain envision:
entities hold now two souls.
The former essence, at sight's decision
gives meaning to these worldly forms.

Always following in perfect mimicry,
dark silhouettes cast by night.

flickering flames draw eyes to gimmickry,
often missing what is right.

The darkness holds an unknown hour,
and thieves and peasants walk alike.

Muffled screams are soon devoured,
upon delivery of killing strike.

Fragrance of eve, sweet in splendour,
knows none other but its own.

As darkness falls, light surrenders
leaving night sole heir, to the throne.
 
Use any name said:
Sullen soft and somber macabre thoughts
Child thrust asunder in the devils waltz
Hurts him deeply yet still he dances
Falling to and fro in the devils trances

He hears sweet singing softly echo
Against harsh light of mocking yellow
Towards it hurriedly he'll go
But another trick played... poor fellow
Click to expand...

This is beautiful :cry:
 
I walked myself across the night
Up and through to great height
To the top of the mountain was my goal
Upon the top I'd sail my soul

DmnStr8
 
Not much of a poet myself, but was feeling inspired and wrote this the other day.

I can see the incandescent
Rays of unending light
Lying dormant in your mind,
Like a sleeping seed beneath parched soil.

I can hear your thoughts
Churning with the intensity
Of expanding black rain-clouds.
And when they collide
There is a mighty crack,
And like lightning comes brief illumination
Which blazes forth
As a recognizable spark in your eye.

But no rain falls.
And still rests the sleeping seed
Like unsown dreams, scattered
Amidst a sea of infertile ground

Beneath scorched Earth
Nothing living grows
 
Daydreaming through my mind
Incredible, ineffable visions that I seek and find
Reaching for Infinity, through imagination
while contemplating corparate image nation.


Are we just consumers or do we live in an I magus nation?
Nay and yay I say, black and white merge together to grey.
Existence constantly transforming, like a child playing with clay.

Thus don't be afraid... Levitate in the inbetween.
 
Journey To The Waterfall


Water wrinkling over stones
Through the valley’s riverside
Gentle brook ‘neath forest boughs
Relaxing lull, and feeble tide

Curving flow on rough terrain
Bustling through the calming trees
Grassy banks erode with time
Eaten by the weald kissed breeze

The gentle brook does travel deep
Past singing birds and joining springs
Current slowly gaining strength
A growing tune this runnel sings

Forest canopy, baring light
Density becoming less
Sunny glades now grace the flow
In meadows deep by white spring cress

A worthy stream of vast expanse
Building heart and running brave
Land now jagged, stone, and rock
Pouring surge through hollow caves

Frantic River, swollen frenzy
So intent on freedom, rushing
Rapids thunder, water white
Native courage, fiercely gushing

Once ‘neath boughs and gently lolling
Now at peak and swiftly falling
 
I wrote this almost a year ago, before i even started researching drugs.. i was just imagining what it might be like to be high.

it is titled: Just Another Escape

Watch the world distort
Objects twisted and warped
The colours swirl and twirl
Like a dress dancing the flamingo
Reality melts away all the pain
Impossibility becomes real and joyous
The darkness let lose all its monsters in fear
Now visible in colour, mottled and grey

When is perception reality
When all you can feel
Is up to interpretation
Is the filter on the lens
Or is it deep in membrane
Which is to be cut away?

Let me run away with you
To where the grass is blue
And clouds float us away
Shall we dance upon the stars
Shall we picnic in the face of Mars
Climb upon my carpet of deception
And pretend

Leave your terrors in the rear
There's no place for them here
Let them feed upon themselves
And watch the blood dissipate in the air
Tomorrow they will rise again

Is the filter on the lens
Or is it deep in membrane
Which is to be cut away?
 
Sitting in this room
my six cornered tomb
Contemplating the usual
Everything and nothing.
Poking poking poke a poke poke poke
When will this poetry thing come afloat?

I dream of the day when silence will come
The mind shuts down, the soul adjourns
To the palace within, the kingdom of God
nodding now, not a care in the world.

Outside there is disgust, death, decay and disgrace.
Cities.
The shit stained cum recepticles of the human race
Street lights bulging out polluting the sky
Hums of half ton killing machines passing on by

I think of the days when silence was there
Out in the forest, alone with the self
Alone at last. Alone and free.
Trapped in this six cornered cell thinking i'm doing well.
I'm a man. Not a zoo exhibit.
Where did WE go so wrong?

Excessive wasting degrading facing
desires within trying to contain.
Flowing like fluids through a semipermeable membrane.
I shut you down but you still squeak your squalid sounds.

Get out. GET OUT I SAY
Thoughts thoughts when will thee go away?
Another day, you always say
another day you will find a way
out the earlobe and into the sky
choking with glee on the pollutants passing by.

Go. Away with you. These thoughts of mine.
Wish to know others you say...
Be social and we'll go away.
Find satisfaction in another
and we'll shut up at one time or another..

Please you sleeze
Don't play that dirty mind game with me.
The only purpose of the social scene is to find a mate
and to go about ruining this very date.
Nein. Sit still you sniveling fool.
Get out of me, I say to you.

I have no need of your people for I am not one.
I am an ape, chimpanzee with a fatal attraction to others
The urge to socialize is a scourge upon man
Distraction distraction out and about again.
You lead me nowhere, you sly dog you.
People have nothing to give me but a day feeling blue.
 
Soil of my soul

Demons grew upon my soul
Relentlessly grabbing hold
To take what is not theirs
My happiness and my cares
They shred and tear and rip away
All that I build each day
Twisting, bending in the mind
Taking light and making blind
Blind, twisted, bent
Back into life I am sent
To carry on upon weak bones
The demon's seeds all were sewn
Into the soil of my soul
To grow again and grab a hold.

DmnStr8
 
Accept the world as a reflection of yourself. You are the world and the world is you. You must change deeply and fundamentally enable for any true change to take place in the world. you must be the light of yoursel.darkness in the world cannot exist where light is. Darkness within yourself cannot exist there either.

forgive yourself and forgive everyone else. free yourself of attachment. We attach our selves to our identity, to our past. We attach ourselves to people and things. We must allow that identity to die. It must be starved out of existence. No attention given to it. It is not you. The false identity must die, enable for the true you to live. You are not your past. You are the consciousness behind the mind. Behind the observer, observing the observer. Observe and do not allow the past to influence your now. Approach each moment as a new experience with freedom of the past. Attention and freedom. Observe and do not judge. Allow yourself to flow.

you are not your future. Accept your life as the one you have created. Take responsibility and know that the future we will only be what I am today. if something is lacking then create something today. Otherwise do not complain for you created it. To complain is to be in on acceptance of what is. Denying the present moment in making the future the higher place. It does not exist. If you want something, anything in life, you must start with one step. Enjoy the step and the next step and the next step. Enjoy the whole process of each moment the matter how simple task. Do not wish for the next moment. Look without labels. Look with attention.if something is lacking then create something today. Otherwise do not complain for you created it. To complain is to be in on acceptance of what is. Denying the present moment in making the future the higher place. It does not exist. If you want something, anything in life, you must start with one step. Enjoy the step in the next in the next and minutes. Enjoy the whole process of each moment the matter how simple task. Do not wish for the next moment. Look without labels. Look with attention.

be attentive of your thoughts. Do not attempt to control them as this will create conflict. The controller and the controlled are the same. Allow your thoughts to pass like clouds. Or like a flower that grows, blooms and fades away. If you watch your thoughts without judgment, without any expectations, there light cast on them. Clear the mind. Make space for thoughts that serve you. Thoughts that create. Thoughts that bring inner peace and joy. Those are the thoughts that are not repetitive nonsense and worry. Watch and know that you are not your thoughts. Your true being is behind all of your mind. You are no thing. You are the empty space. The silence. Your true beauty is that you are a moment between the silence. You are an experience that will be added to the consciousness of everything that has ever been and ever will be. You came from nothing and you will return to nothing. But you will have broken the silence in a unique way.

DmnStr8
 
From childhoods hour i have not been
As others were - I have not seen
As others saw - I could not bring
My passions from a common spring
From the same source I have not taken
My sorrow - I could not awaken
My heart to joy at the same tone
And all I loved - I loved alone
Then - in my childhood - in the dawn
Of a most stormy life - was drawn
From every depth of good and ill
The mystery which binds me still
From the torrent, or the fountain
From the red cliff of the mountain
From the sun that round me rolled
In its autumn tint of gold
From the lightning in the sky
As it passed me flying by
From the thunder, and the storm
And the cloud that took the form
When the rest of heaven was blue
Of a demon in my view

Edgar Allan Poe
 
Do not go gentle into that good night,
Old age should burn and rave at close of day;
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

Though wise men at their end know dark is right,
Because their words had forked no lightning they
Do not go gentle into that good night.

Good men, the last wave by, crying how bright
Their frail deeds might have danced in a green bay,
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

Wild men who caught and sang the sun in flight,
And learn, too late, they grieved it on its way,
Do not go gentle into that good night.

Grave men, near death, who see with blinding sight
Blind eyes could blaze like meteors and be gay,
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

And you, my father, there on the sad height,
Curse, bless, me now with your fierce tears, I pray.
Do not go gentle into that good night.
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

~Dylan Thomas~
 
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