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Ben writes poems and stuff
Posted:
Tue Sep 30, 2014 6:30 pm
by Bezombia
Posted:
Tue Sep 30, 2014 6:36 pm
by Bezombia
poem #1:
"The Seeding"
However we walk when we are alone;
Waiting and waiting for rain to fall.
But there are no clouds where we are standing
And there are no mountains for us to cross.
But we are still waiting for the seeding
And all of the rain will water the lifestyles
So most of us wait and wait for an answer
An answer, no question have been asked
And so the end rises not in the east
And sadly, softly, the old cry the least
So many love has folded the crease
And in the end all things will cease
poem #2:
"Not the Same"
Rusty Chain
Over Brain
Not the Same
Marked Deranged
Only Plain
Not the Same
Can't Explain
Rearrange
Not the Same
Feel charade
Serenade
Not the Same
Maybe I'm Changed
Out of Range
Not the Same
End of Days
Gone Insane
Not the Same
Not the Same
Posted:
Tue Sep 30, 2014 6:40 pm
by Bezombia
Poem #3:
"On the Wing"
Stepping off the train I see
A reflection looking back at me
Just water on the ground is all
But something in my mind falls
Quickly walking down the street
Trying not to slip my feet
Keep my eyes down, don't look around
Never once make sound
A blur of people whizzing by
Unique in nothing, just can't try
To fly, I sigh, knowing it's a lie
But still I pass the hours by
A destination constantly changing
A sea of faces rearranging
A life in the hands of a few
But nothing here is really new
Not to good at length or pacing
But standing alone my heart's racing
A gasp, a breath, a mark, a glimpse
But years have passed since
I stepped on the wing
Posted:
Tue Sep 30, 2014 6:47 pm
by Ulrenon
oh god
the artistical wonder seeps from you like
pee
much good Ben, very wow
Posted:
Tue Sep 30, 2014 6:48 pm
by Bezombia
Ulrenon wrote:oh god
the artistical wonder seeps from you like
pee
much good Ben, very wow
thank you, thank you
i try
Posted:
Tue Sep 30, 2014 6:48 pm
by Ulrenon
Bezombia wrote:Ulrenon wrote:oh god
the artistical wonder seeps from you like
pee
much good Ben, very wow
thank you, thank you
i try
im kidding haha jokes
you suck at everything
Posted:
Tue Sep 30, 2014 6:50 pm
by The New World Oceania
Ulrenon wrote:Bezombia wrote:thank you, thank you
i try
im kidding haha jokes
you suck at everything
ha ha we got him good bro
Posted:
Tue Sep 30, 2014 6:51 pm
by Bezombia
Ulrenon wrote:Bezombia wrote:thank you, thank you
i try
im kidding haha jokes
you suck at everything
thanks mate
really inspires me to write more
Poem #4:
"More"
Sitting in an earful of corn
Waiting for the blowing of the horn
Trying to understand sporks
Ah fuck it, I'll just use forks
Posted:
Tue Sep 30, 2014 6:51 pm
by Ulrenon
The New World Oceania wrote:Ulrenon wrote:im kidding haha jokes
you suck at everything
ha ha we got him good bro
Hey, go away m9, only I can bully Ben.
Now your just being mean. It's only nice and funny when I do it. >:L
Posted:
Tue Sep 30, 2014 7:12 pm
by The New World Oceania
Ulrenon wrote:The New World Oceania wrote:ha ha we got him good bro
Hey, go away m9, only I can bully Ben.
Now your just being mean. It's only nice and funny when I do it. >:L
bruh
Posted:
Tue Sep 30, 2014 7:14 pm
by Ulrenon
The New World Oceania wrote:Ulrenon wrote:Hey, go away m9, only I can bully Ben.
Now your just being mean. It's only nice and funny when I do it. >:L
bruh
wot
Posted:
Tue Sep 30, 2014 8:00 pm
by Respubliko de Libereco
Dat amphimaceric/cretic monometer, tho.
Posted:
Wed Oct 01, 2014 3:30 am
by Bezombia
thanks for the feedback erryone
Poem #5:
"Boats, parts I-XII"
Boats
B O A T S
stoaB
Boats Boats
Boats
Posted:
Wed Oct 01, 2014 8:36 am
by Ainin
Bezombia wrote:thanks for the feedback erryone
Poem #5:
"Boats, parts I-XII"
Boats
B O A T S
stoaB
Boats Boats
Boats
This deserves the Nobel Prize for Literature. It's so deep.
Posted:
Wed Oct 01, 2014 12:21 pm
by Anollasia
I like the first and third ones.
Posted:
Wed Oct 01, 2014 1:46 pm
by The New World Oceania
Looking over them, I've actually noticed that certain stanzas seem to be better off alone than in relation to the poems they're in. For example, the first stanza of the third poem is a great image and contains a lot of meaning alone; have you considered writing shorter poems?
That is, not ones necessarily about boats
Posted:
Wed Oct 01, 2014 1:51 pm
by Bezombia
The New World Oceania wrote:Looking over them, I've actually noticed that certain stanzas seem to be better off alone than in relation to the poems they're in. For example, the first stanza of the third poem is a great image and contains a lot of meaning alone; have you considered writing shorter poems?
That is, not ones necessarily about boats
The problem I usually run into is this:
-I get a great idea for a poem, and the words start flowing.
-I quickly write down what I come up with. This'll usually get me a stanza or two.
-I then run out of immediate ideas, but want to do the first stanzas justice by continuing the poem.
I'll usually write the first 20% of a poem in three minutes and then the last 80% in thirty.
Posted:
Wed Oct 01, 2014 1:53 pm
by The New World Oceania
Bezombia wrote:The New World Oceania wrote:Looking over them, I've actually noticed that certain stanzas seem to be better off alone than in relation to the poems they're in. For example, the first stanza of the third poem is a great image and contains a lot of meaning alone; have you considered writing shorter poems?
That is, not ones necessarily about boats
The problem I usually run into is this:
-I get a great idea for a poem, and the words start flowing.
-I quickly write down what I come up with. This'll usually get me a stanza or two.
-I then run out of immediate ideas, but want to do the first stanzas justice by continuing the poem.
I'll usually write the first 20% of a poem in three minutes and then the last 80% in thirty.
Keep what's important. So much depends on a red wheelbarrow...
Posted:
Wed Oct 01, 2014 1:56 pm
by Anollasia
Bezombia wrote:The New World Oceania wrote:Looking over them, I've actually noticed that certain stanzas seem to be better off alone than in relation to the poems they're in. For example, the first stanza of the third poem is a great image and contains a lot of meaning alone; have you considered writing shorter poems?
That is, not ones necessarily about boats
The problem I usually run into is this:
-I get a great idea for a poem, and the words start flowing.
-I quickly write down what I come up with. This'll usually get me a stanza or two.
-I then run out of immediate ideas, but want to do the first stanzas justice by continuing the poem.
I'll usually write the first 20% of a poem in three minutes and then the last 80% in thirty.
I usually have trouble trying to end a poem. Is it too long or is it not long enough? That's what gets me.
Posted:
Thu Oct 02, 2014 5:00 pm
by Bezombia
Poem #6:
"Emotionless"
Like a spider sitting in a web
Of fantasy and symphony
Emotionless
An amazing story of an amazing man
Doing amazing things in an amazing land
But at the end of the day I'm still sitting here
Trying to look out, trying not to feel
Emotionless
But in the morning every day
I still wake up and I still say
"No, now it's different"
But even I know I'm just playing
Pretending to be something I can't
Because I know you'll never be with us
I'm still sitting here emotionless
And into the sun I still gaze
Remembering a time filled with better days
On the thought of freedom my eyes over glaze
But still my mind is split in frays
An outward smile, an inward choke
A pleasant while, a sinister smoke
But learned over time to ask for less
Onward forever
Emotionless
Posted:
Thu Oct 02, 2014 5:07 pm
by Bezombia
damn that one was good
let's try that again
Poem #7:
"Emotionless, II"
In my hand the sunlight beams
Fall through my fingers in tattered gleams
The shell of a man internal screams
But perfectly fine outward he seems
The great facade of a modern tale
Of serious problems in a serious world
And a real person forever doomed to fail
And focused forever on just one word
Emotionless
The static face of man ever changing
In a great long story of how the words are rearranging
Looking through the glass front of my eyes
Waiting to the promise of bluer skies
Day after day I awake in tears
Not sadness, not fueled by love or fears
Cries of empty containers with
Hollow tears from a man emotionless
Posted:
Thu Oct 02, 2014 5:17 pm
by Bezombia
And now for a change of theme
Poem #8:
"Cloudless"
Cloudless I can see your face
Hovering in front of me
And clearly I can still see
The way that things might have been
But any fool with half a head
Could tell that you would end up dead
Chasing ghosts of the past
A state of mind that cannot last
And yet I still awake every
Day to your eyes, I see
What never was and what never could be
But somewhere deep inside my brain
Beyond the mangled and insane
A single call reminds me every day
And cloudless I can see you form
Calmly walking out the door
..That was a metaphor
The taste of your sweet scent
Still resonates inside
Although I know full well
It's only in my mind
With twenty years under my belt
What I would give to have felt
Then what am writing about today
But cloudless I can see...
Posted:
Sat Oct 04, 2014 2:40 pm
by Bezombia
Poem #9
"Crying"
As I watch the years flutter by
Enough hate to kill a guy
Clouds begin to fill the sky
And I still can't make up my mind
In my self-created cage
A dying soul harbors no rage
And even if I cannot see
I think I know what will be
For sleepless days bring sleepless nights
I see myself just outside my sight
For spooky happenings bring no fright
Anymore
Recognizing all that's mine
Is broken but strangely benign
And although sadness consumes my mind
Haven't cried since nineteen eighty nine
Posted:
Sat Oct 04, 2014 2:49 pm
by Bezombia
Poem #10
"The Pill-Popping Pendulum"
I once knew a man named Brute
He really was quite a hoot
Stomping feelings under his boot
And strutting around in his suit
And Brute knew a woman named Sharon
Who wasn't really keen on carin'
If the birds sang she'd try to scare 'em
Who'd meet her, nobody would dare 'em
But nobody knows
Which way the river flows
And nobody smiles
For less than dime
And the heat of the moment
Won't light the bonfire
And the rage of the day
Can't pay the bills
Now Sharon's father was named William
The kids, well he'd try to kill 'em
They don't know what was wrong with him
But now he just speaks to the tin
And up on the mountain where nobody lives
The distant scream of joy persists
And although they tell ya nobody kills the kids
The wise men will insist
And nobody knows
Which way the sun goes
And nobody cares
For the dares
And the heat of the moment
Can't start forest fires
And the rage of day
Is whatever you say
Nobody knew the man named Done
He lived up high and all alone
He'd never answer his phone
But he did manage to write this poem
Posted:
Sat Oct 04, 2014 2:53 pm
by Bezombia
last one for now:
Poem #11:
"A Brief History of Hate"
All around
The people make eye contact
But nobody really sees each other