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The Official POETICS thread

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From the east he came west against the mountain
Flowers he picked just now
Flowers from my grave
Flowers he picked just now


... Wintu Song
 
Use any name said:
Feel like I'm almost spamming or something ¯\_("3)_/¯

Heh, it's been years since I've been in these parts and could spam pages and pages of what's essentially been entheogenically inspired, so spam away, I'll try to stay among the fray beyond today :)

“Quest or Jest”

If I were a conductor
I'd have bullfrogs sing the "Jaws" theme
If I're a conspirator
I'd advocate the Devil's scheme

If I looked to azimuth
Of life the past would integrate
If I looked to call your bluff
Then Maya would disintegrate

If I met an enchanter
She'd turn me into a gecko
If I met you in banter
You'd turn toward me to echo

If I shared with you my truth
Inspiration would then be mine
If I shared through all my youth
Then the chaos would be sublime

If I had a reflector
It'd be the stillness of a spring
If I wielded a scepter
I'd be a lonely beehive king

If I offered you a choice
You would realize a true friend
If I offered up my voice
You’d hear the plea to make amend

If I gave you a lecture
I'd say always keep learning keen
If I gave you conjecture
I'd say you're blind to what's between

If I could yield to uncouth
Then the darkness would surrender
If I could be less aloof
Love would not be put asunder

If I could be a rector
All wildlife would come to me
But I'm just a projector
Of improbable dreams to be
 
Dimethyltryptamine
A synchronistic sheen
That's overlapping 'tween
Déjà vu daunting scene

Endogenous to rise
Imagination scries
A tear of life, joy cries
As lighted spirit flies

If gate ye ever flood
Thy sights will boil blood
While angel harpsichords
Sing swells as will affords

To see what's to believe
To part with what to grieve
A taste of 'finity
Within lucidity

Snare field to yield ye must
Lest something else pluck dust
From eye for shadow lust
To lie beyond sight, rust

Away thy trust in truth
Be locked inside a booth
Molding ever uncouth
A soul stolen by sleuth

A nobody bothered
Reality severed
From what ye will father
In spirit flight feathered

To fly in but a night
Of a thousand aeons
To face a single fright
In psyche's black neons
 
Things a Shaman Sees

Everything that is
is alive

on a steep river bank
there's a voice that speaks
I've seen the master of that voice
he bowed to me
I spoke with him
he answers all my questions

Everything that is
is alive

Little gray bird
little blue breast
sings in a hallow bough
sings her shaman songs
woodpecker on a tree
that's his drum
he's got a drumming nose
and the tree shakes
when the axe bites its side

all these things answer
my call

everything that is
is alive

the lantern walks around
the walls of this house have tongues
even the bowl has its own true home
the hides asleep in the bags
were up talking all night
antlers on the graves
rise and circle the mounds
while the dead themselves get up
and go visit the living ones
 
As I walk, I walk with beauty
The universe is walking with me
In beauty it walks before me
In beauty it walks behind me
In beauty it walks below me
In beauty it walks above me
Beauty is on every side
As I walk, I walk with beauty

~A traditional Navajo prayer~

I love this poem! :thumb_up:
 
My picture book was at an early age
The painted parchment papering our cage:
Mauve rings around the moon; blood-orange sun;
Twinned Iris; and that rare phenomenon
The iridule--when beautiful and strange,
In a bright sky above a mountain range
One opal cloudlet in an oval form
Reflects the rainbow of a thunderstorm
Which in a distant valley has been staged-
For we are most artistically caged.
~Vladimir Nobokov
 
Always need another goal,
happy with a comfortable life
and a decent soul.

Riding away clean,
living the dream.
Keen on words and sounds.
Attention grounds me,
stuck in a life that found me.

Control your thoughts at any moment,
and your will is free.

Always worth seeing this,
content with being this,
opening my eyes.
 
Optical fibre connection to an antidimensional benevolent ambivalent shape shifting frilled neck lizard in full flight tip toeing on the hot sand too strong to let anybody in - chasing away the reflections of him far away from thoughts on light and love.
But the beam is there, small and far away it shines through time and it's coming in fast - the resolution increased on nth powers
and
at
the
last few moments
and
hand in hand a few braved the torrent and glimpsed the all spark - saw the all - it's simple - it's yours - it's mine - it's ours - it's no old mans story to tell for a price.

Cast the bullshit aside - take a deep dive - grab the genie by the neck and breath deep the sweet deep death
and see for yourself for you're the elf see - stuck in storied loops - self repeating archetypes - round and round the time loop goes, where it stops at the third act yes!
the mass hypnosis of the crowds break and back through dullness and traffic home to never remembered dreams in caffeine tobaccoed up sunrises.

Over the googol horizons inside the sweet gold nuggets of delusions grasping tendrils the spark sits in between you and indras net
remember to turn left
back the way you came the waves oscillating around just follow the numbers up and up and up the piercing frequency shakes the light in place and there you see the boundary
orboidal tesseroidal nth powered toroids gearing to forgotten rhythms.
Between left and right, up and down, yes and no, one and O you stand on top the bamboo shard in perfect balance behold the gateway of sound/light waiting for your acceptance.
It's yours - it's mine - it's ours - it's no old mans story to tell for a price.
 
Letter to Corporation and Customers

Im a self powered vessel
Walking through the water
Gave my profit to you Father
What else can I do?

One soul filled container
I am the endless stranger
A pillow for your anger
Still I service you



~~~

We are blessed creatures to witness every season cycle over again. To plainly see the pattern. For some beings winter is the end.


Never abandon your memory of spring.
Neither burn out your youth in summer.
Nor despair in the yawning autumn.
Nor freeze in the empty winter.
 
You And I verse through the night.
The faster it goes the less it knows.
The brighter its place the more it is space.
Beware, a moment is here.
Patience and unity are key, to the dance of life.

--

We fight for our daily bread,
What do you take back when you are dead.
Teach the kids of virtues we break,
Mankind is on another race.

--


To flow within the reign of the wicked
lies there the tainted and stricted.
Nor do you follow your own command, if you blame others
for your demand.
In vain it goes that which does not command.
Its ye who stares at blanks.
So pick up your body and put it to work,
So that you find company in your heart,
So your soul is satisfied.

--

A stareback from the backline,
Down memorylane we all remain.
Do not despair but treasure the coming
Of a great time when man is hunting
For his future is bright and shine , this moment
He trust in it.
Goes on and does his job, with full dedication
to his faith
Strong he remains when doubtness came, as he knew it
was a minds game.
Entrusted with his life, He gave away.
In faith he remains.
 
The Silent Poet.. by Dan Lake



Where are you fabled story teller,
harbinger of time.
Reclining in your rocking chair
devoid of word and rhyme.
Cannot the muse you once possessed
arise from quiescent sleep,
to rage and love or contemplate
the need to laugh or weep.

So come my champion of prose,
redeemer of the verse,
deliberate that is, or was,
your silence is perverse.
That standard, which is poetry
awaits your conscience glove,
so take the pen of Damocles
and write that which we love.
 
A friend of mine is taking some classes, shared some prompts with me, suggested I try my hand at poetry.. I've written a few now and would like to share this one on "A Disappearing World"
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Neon glow and spiraling pyramids, a hard candy coated texture
An eternity spent in platinum, self-immolation, and rebirth
This place feels like home, our mind, just we - all alone
Hands pixelated, the room fragmented, reconstructed by us and me alone
Smell of mothballs, a burning bush, the nose knows
Pressure building, urination, the anticipation grows
Reaching through the water, our soul touches the Sun above
Icarus, the Greek hummingbird
Fear has no use here
Light fades just as quick as it consumed, The mantis reminded us this is only a game
Reality ceases, reality resumes
We've been here before, We'll always be here, but for now it is time for us to go
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------
I welcome any feedback, thanks guys.
 
Knowledge is a prison
Understanding is a playground
A teacher is a prison
A friend is a playground
Who are your friends?
Who are your teachers?
Value them both for
A playground is a friend
A prison is a teacher
Understanding a playground
Is knowledge in prison
 
Its raining its pouring
My father is snoring
Tap tap tap
On my cellar window
Poe and he's drawing an awning
The old man is snoring
Its pouring its pouring
In my cellar a widow
Watching through the glass
Face a glaze of honey and roses
Longing and posies
Lost kisses and rubbing noses
On delicate ankles
Rises to her toes
Dances a twirling
It's hurling its hurling
The rain now its patter
Is heavy as ever
 
Short stay of electromagnetic resonance.
So specific for a moment and now fading.
Principally brought together as a cunning act of beauty but...
Not known is the actor.
Seen as a ghostly impression.
Only felt via the residue of substance left behind.
Fading brief rainbows all along the internal walls of self defeating objects of expression.
Rising to greet one another then changing in the wake of the peculiarity of polite gesture
- I love you therefore I recede for you
- I love you therefore I chase you.
We are two us lovers but one in the mechanism.
 
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