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My Poetry Thread


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#1 jpi332

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Posted 06 May 2021 - 07:55 PM

I Am

 

I am a grey rock

Solemn and faceless,

An icon unto which the sisters

genuflect and bow

Upon the creek bank's rugged top.

 

I am a hard place to fall

With an aged granite shell

And old lava fillings

I'm holy, holy in the name of the Law.

 

I am indestructible.

 

But floods start from waves

Which are controlled by the wind-

Wheezing gasps sent from most high

Coughing carbon, heaven shaved.

 

All empires must come to a fall.

The titanic came to a sink.

The Tower of Babel tumbled.

Kingdoms crumble when they grow tall.

Augustus left as Rome's last link.

 

Landforms change

From the erosion and waves

 

Dust to dust

Rock to pebble

Life to death

Rise to fall

 

Amen, so it must be.


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"Funny but it seems I always wind up here with you,

nice to know somebody loves me"

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


#2 jpi332

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Posted 06 May 2021 - 10:24 PM

(deleted)


"Funny but it seems I always wind up here with you,

nice to know somebody loves me"

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


#3 secretsister

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Posted 11 May 2021 - 12:51 AM

Really great poem. Clear in its meaning yet concise.
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#4 jpi332

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Posted 21 May 2021 - 10:53 PM

Really great poem. Clear in its meaning yet concise.

Thank you so much, that actually means a lot to me


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"Funny but it seems I always wind up here with you,

nice to know somebody loves me"

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


#5 jpi332

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Posted 23 May 2021 - 09:59 PM

"It Will Be Hell"

The valley of hell is darker than a California sky
The more I walk into it,
the more obscure it becomes
As arrows are hurled at me,
faster,
faster.
They cry,
"turn around, we won't cease
until you do".
But I refuse

Earth, bury me.
Flames, consume me,
Nature, do with my rotten corpse what you will.


Go? I would never.
Stay? I should die.

The spears become sharper
Like saber-tooth tigers gnawing at my back
before leaving my meagre spine upon the open flame.

Tonight, I may very well die.
But my ashes, they will rise,
Somewhere above the Hills of Tara,
Where my mother's mothers lie.

I will join them, it is there I will remain.

Igne Natura Renovatur Integra,
Earth is replenished by flame.

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"Funny but it seems I always wind up here with you,

nice to know somebody loves me"

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


#6 OpaliteEgg

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Posted 27 May 2021 - 12:56 AM

I love your poetry. The last one provoked such intense imagery in my mind. It was like a prophetic dream. 


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#7 jpi332

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Posted 27 May 2021 - 09:17 AM

I love your poetry. The last one provoked such intense imagery in my mind. It was like a prophetic dream.

Thank you so much omg :))


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"Funny but it seems I always wind up here with you,

nice to know somebody loves me"

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


#8 jpi332

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Posted 04 June 2021 - 12:19 AM

This ones from the hypothetical perspective of an Egyptian King’s servant. It was customary for them to be sacrificed at the same time that the king passed away.

“The Pharoah’s Courtesan”


The first day, I was brought to the palace
Of sandstone and marble,
The bricks were placed by the heavens
Like gods upon their thrones.
I am in the center of
the center of the world.

The porter leads me through chambers
Doors open, I needn’t say a word.
Eyes bow, mouths hush
The chatter of the gold plates
hitting the spoons is
the only conversation I hear.

I lie my back upon a purple couch
Upholstered with the finest silk of Orient.
The legs are covered in
Egypt’s purest gold,
Ra’s child born from the rocks.

All is well, I am at rest
With bread and ruby grape wine
And excess, excess, excess

The tenth night mirrored the first
The todays were continued into the morrows
Time was a passive onlooker
Shining her warnings on the ground


Month of Octavius, day, the 15th,
My master returns home from Canaan
In a wooden box.

Warrior, leader, king,
God defeated-
Appendages strewn about like
a ravaged dog in a fight.

That powerful nothing,
That omniscient dark....
If he must lie six feet under,
I deserve twelve.

For a fortnight,
the funereal events continue.
On the last morning-
My last morning-
I am awoken
Before the evening star has closed her eye
By a somber maid
And the shrill singing of her silver bell.
My eyes are heavyweights.

Yet try as I may to will myself away
To let sleep return,
To return myself to
That summer daze-
That upholstered couch
That cradle that seems
a century, a world ago,
I remain.

Duty. Her silvery scream
Beckons me to the grave.


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"Funny but it seems I always wind up here with you,

nice to know somebody loves me"

 

 

 

 

 

 

 



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