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Poetry Collaboration Thread

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posted on Dec, 23 2005 @ 10:52 AM
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Originally posted by Voidmaster
An ode to you I write today,
But what does it matter, its passed away,
Borne away on the tounges of man,
Buried here, in no-mans-land.

None but I talk of your hair,
Your beautiful golden, silky hair,
Nine but I speak of your face,
A gem of gems, a goddess grace.

None but I speak of your form,
slender and soft, beauty not norm,
None but I whisper of your eyes so blue,
A shocking, beautiful, distinguished hue.

None but I proclaim your beauty,
None so mightily,
None but I proclaim your beauty,
None so loyally.


Where-in lies her leonine grace
but in the contours of her face?
A gentle smile, her eyes like jade,
in red hair framed...a serene glade.

Counting freckles on her milky skin,
I'm forever lost in devotional sin.
Enraptured by those charming spots
upon round cheeks and various plots.

Why is it then, that I can't get past twenty
When counting slowly through those fields of plenty?
Is it just because she will not wait
while I, such treasures contemplate?

And then moves so quick to plant a kiss
and I, as her lover, would never be remiss
to pass upon a chance to accept this,
that sugar sweet moment of supreme bliss.




posted on Dec, 7 2007 @ 10:27 PM
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Remiss and sorrow
go hand in hand
as the dreams I have shared
grow dim by the light

A love forgotten
in the waking world
returns each night
with slumber's embrace

My Love!
...
my love
...

My heart races
my mind screams for release
from this pain
this torment

The agony of this world
gnaws at my very soul
which I have sworn to you
for you

and yet

...



posted on Dec, 8 2007 @ 07:38 PM
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enjoyed reading these, so i thought id give it a crack a light hearted one at that if not immature


rock star from afar an uneducated cryhme

gripped by the hook, moved by the bass
dancing to the rythm, smile upon my face
hairbrush for a microphone, mirror for a fan
fantasy for a stadium, the world will here me jam

music nearing climax, creaking of the floor
rock star on a roll, one eye upon the door
as the handle turns, the dream fades away
another ordinary person, another ordinary day



posted on Dec, 16 2007 @ 02:05 PM
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Originally posted by masqua

Where-in lies her leonine grace
but in the contours of her face?
A gentle smile, her eyes like jade,
in red hair framed...a serene glade.

Counting freckles on her milky skin,
I'm forever lost in devotional sin.
Enraptured by those charming spots
upon round cheeks and various plots.

Why is it then, that I can't get past twenty
When counting slowly through those fields of plenty?
Is it just because she will not wait
while I, such treasures contemplate?

.
And then moves so quick to plant a kiss
and I, as her lover, would never be remiss
to pass upon a chance to accept this,
that sugar sweet moment of supreme bliss.


I'll try this but be warned I'm better at just thinking one up instead of going off another poem already written

"Summer Memory"

She's beautiful like a flower sprouting in the spring
Her eyes sparkle like diamonds on an exspensive ring
With red hair flowing gracefully in the summer sunrise
I'll never forget my encounter with her warm surspise

Her lips were so soft and sweet with just the right bliss
I fought with my inner strength just to give them a kiss
With a face of an angel and an ocean of freckles to see
My heart longs for those precious summer memories

With the winter season upon me and the cold winds blow
The thought of her warm touch helps my blood to flow
She may be gone now but my dreams of her smiling face
Takes me back to our summer and that special place



posted on Dec, 27 2007 @ 11:49 PM
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I don't often do free verse, but I thought I'd sprinkle some in here... It should serve as a juxtaposition to the content of the previous poem. It was written during what I consider my "conversational" phase.

***

Learning What to Overlook


The night before the nerves
In my left leg went awry,
Sending pain signals without reason,
I had a strange dream:

I was in a diner, and by chance,
Two women I once knew
Were talking together at a table
Not far from my own.

They looked at me as if hoping
To see some concern or consternation,
Some indication of curiosity or fear
Written on my face.

Instead, I smiled and flashed
The two-fingered victory salute
As Crowley advised Churchill
To do to Hitler and the Nazis.

As I paid my bill and left the diner,
I kept my eyes forward and thought
Of Lot, fleeing his condemned city
For the relative safety of the world.

/tn.


[edit on 28-12-2007 by teleonaut]



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