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bipolarity; lord byron , george gordon(a variation on)

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posted on Oct, 5 2009 @ 05:11 AM
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stay with me now. this poetry is to be moved. it's in the music forum. though for some reason i don't have enough ats ideas to post on the music forum. why? how do i post this on the music forum? move it please, mods. here goes.
The Marriner’s Blog

To write a definitive line of form
and shape infinite in design in four
or five measures of time.
Just to be safe it could be five.

“All toward the shore” rose the sudden voice
from captain Malanger’s ship the Choice
For the murky bottom
Was as appealing as Gomorrah and
Soddom.

Many made the golden shore before
The air was changed to water though more
Perished in Poseidon’s arms
As did the bouillon and charms.

Our hero’s mood is in constant flux;
Some say he is embodied luck
Others that he is cursed
Still more who say he’s more than well rehearsed.

And though the poem has no digression
Indeed needs no resuscitation
It does like the hero integrate
The Mind, body, and spiritual state.

The meter , rhyme, and pentameter change
Our hero is no grammar sage.
Nor is this poem’s poet.
There is but one Homer; the reader knows it.

Though it would be both good and fair
To Odysseus our hero compare
In resource and in cunning
His wit proves to be quite stunning.

Alas, what becomes of the ship Choice?
And why not give the hero his voice?
Anon he shall speak when it’s time
When lord Juan feels the rhythm and rhyme.

But the reader must first know the secret
Of captain and crew and should keep it
From those who have not read these lines
Or one should spoil the surprise.

Put simply that each soul aboard
To the gallows he is heading toward
By decree of the king of that land
The Choice is a ship of the damned.


Though they live in half life ways
Like chimpanzees they run astray
From tree to tree and all is well
As Byron’s love is there to tell

Not that there is some mystical god
Christians, Jews, those who believe in mosses’ rod
And staff will not sail my sails when
I see them as snake oil salesman.

Dear Juan was one who survived
Though his ship was capsized
He transforms himself all the time
Never again will he be blind.

He is the universal man of love
There is nothing which he dreams of
Except for music wine and females
And epic poems and fear of jails

Juan is you, me, and everyone
The archetype of Karl Young
It is a story of countless faces
So many women so many places


And yes , of course death is around
For death is unexpectedly found
At the moment when one is aware
Of all the disaster that one could bare.

As is the case of the world’s great art
Not that mine is even close to par
An introduction is becoming,
What the audience finds welcomSo this is what the reader sees,
A picture of what this poem will be
Through the eyes of an old soul
Love sex murder and control.

These are elements which are cast
Into the poem. One’s which will last
It’s not the hero which has done the killing
Though he who killed loves gold and shillings.

Enough then of what is to befall
The future , past or predicate halls
One clue is given to Charles Wallace
And Lews Therin. One should seek solace.

Now the introduction will end
And the play will begin to begin.
Sci-fi writers All are damned!
Excluding Jordan and L’Engle, Madeleine

I breathe, I breathe in the air
Is this what it’s like to be born here?
Where? I remember an empire of dirt
Everyone I know goes into the earth

If you could have it, could have it all
Then go away in the end and fall
Losing pants, shoes, and shirt
Reason makes it hurt

She passed today, by my house
She did not stop or look nor carouse
She was with the one inside the hearse
With the dead men and the cursed.

Thus spake Juan though it was faster
Than any line from Zoroaster
About a procession
A funeral march in essence.

Lord Juan believes and can see
Beyond the forest behind the trees
It’s better to have a bush that is wet
Than one that burns or better yet

It’s more spiritual and fair
To have a beautiful pair
Of bi-girlfriends keeping warm
In winter’s pristine storm...

to be continued with chords.


(MOD EDIT: to correct spelling in thread title)

[edit on 10/21/2009 by benevolent tyrant]




posted on Oct, 18 2009 @ 03:50 AM
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I can't believe I mispelled Carl jung gggrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr...



posted on Oct, 18 2009 @ 05:36 AM
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reply to post by dragonsmusic
 


also bipolarity was mispelled points off. metaphorically speaking. anyway. it's just a public forum. that's funny. ats is public. ats in one small percentage of the internet. sure, type in a conspiracy on google and one will get a thread from the ats. it means nothing at all. it's ironic to consider how much individuals and companies spend to be in the top 25 much less the top 5 on a google search. but if you make a good thread, it will come up on google. for example. i typed in mad max and masonry and my ats thread came up as the first . the numero uno . that should have felt great, right? no, it didn't. ats doesn't remind me of anything. ats is like a soundgarden or an audioslave or a thirty seconds to mars song. that's all i wanted to say all along. i mean this # is so beautiful. almost all of it.



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