Re: Poetic Corner (for the Artist in us)

Here's a poem I wrote awhile ago, haven't really written anything recently. Probably should.

The Rain is the Instigator

The rain is the instigator
The fire is my companion
Burn me alive
Burn me alive

The rain is the instigator
And the sun mocks me
The snow is my foe
But the hail makes me whole

There's a hurricane in my heart
A tornado in my soul
And my mind is a phenomena all it's own
But it's waterlogged and torn apart

The flood is coming
But I forget how to swim
Your savior is coming
But I'm not him

The light is dangerous
But the darkness is blessed
The rain is the instigator
But I am in distress

The fog brings a killer
The mist brings a beast
The rain is the instigator
And we're it's last feast

Re: Poetic Corner (for the Artist in us)

i think i should try and explain how i feel , because you are all good people on here , and put up with depressing old me.
I am full of self loathing, but hope not self pity
and i do have an affection for the odd titty
no one knows, more than me
what a pain i can be
some days i feel like hanging myself from a tree
that people are looking, watching,laughing, staring and talking about me
a lot of you make me feel humble
because i do nothing but rant and grumble
and for you people i want you to know
i respect and admire you so
people like doc pepper, who puts his feelings on youtube in an entertaining way
and has many wise things to say
what you have to go through makes me feel bad
but to know someone like you makes me proud and glad
ol wolfie don't know much but one thing is the best people are on H.M.C.A
And that folks, is what i wanted to say.

Re: Poetic Corner (for the Artist in us)

^^ That's rocked, Wolfie. We love you too, dude. smile

Re: Poetic Corner (for the Artist in us)

Scream of the Eagle, Death of Our Mother by The Creature
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Blood shot eyes
And screaming in the sky
The eagle is insane
Killing us all with the ignorant winds
And the violent rains
Feeding us our God
On blood stained plains

Death is shown through plastic covers
And the people of faith talk with walls
Pretty pictures make fools of us all
While the genius' weep in the funeral halls

The mothers weep and the fathers cry
The children sleep until they die
Eagle flys, she cries
Then she drops from the sky
As our world explodes
With one
final
disappointed
sigh.

Re: Poetic Corner (for the Artist in us)

Zodiac wrote:

Here's a poem I wrote awhile ago, haven't really written anything recently. Probably should.

The Rain is the Instigator

The rain is the instigator
The fire is my companion
Burn me alive
Burn me alive

The rain is the instigator
And the sun mocks me
The snow is my foe
But the hail makes me whole

There's a hurricane in my heart
A tornado in my soul
And my mind is a phenomena all it's own
But it's waterlogged and torn apart

The flood is coming
But I forget how to swim
Your savior is coming
But I'm not him

The light is dangerous
But the darkness is blessed
The rain is the instigator
But I am in distress

The fog brings a killer
The mist brings a beast
The rain is the instigator
And we're it's last feast

Great job, man! Smooth read.

Re: Poetic Corner (for the Artist in us)

apologies but i'm feeling romantic and this has just come spouting out of my head.

My Beautiful Girl, i never can see
Why you have the time for me
My Beautiful Girl, why so kind?
My Beautiful Girl, you know you drive me out of my mind
My Beautiful Girl, i know it ain't easy
sometimes i feel so sleazy
My Beautiful Girl, it's a mystery to me, why one as beautiful as you
Talks to one as ugly as me
My Beautiful Girl,i know i make you feel blue
But please know i'd do anything for you
My Beautiful girl, although we're worlds apart
I want you to know you're always in my heart
My Beautiful Girl, everything i say is true
My beautiful girl, i really love you.

Re: Poetic Corner (for the Artist in us)

A little holiday evil...

Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the lab
Not a creature was stirring, it was too dark and drab.
The plans were laid by the workbench with care,
In hopes that evilness soon would I share.

The rats were nestled all snug in their cages,
With visions of cheese and long twisted mazes.
And Igor in his lab coat, and I getting some crap,
Had just racked our brains on some ingenious trap.

When out on the mountain side there arose such a clatter,
I sprang from the lair to check on the matter.
Away to a monitor I let go a whistle,
Grabbed at controls and armed a tow missile.

The lava on the mountain came down in a flow
Gave off odd shadows to objects below.
When, what to my blood shot eyes should appear,
But a bunch from PETA all drunk on some beer.

With a young skinny driver, so lithe and quick,
I knew in a moment she was gonna be sick.
More rabid than beagles her friend they came,
And she barfed, and groaned, and called them by name!

Re: Poetic Corner (for the Artist in us)

"Oh Darby! Oh, Danny! Oh, Penny you bitch!
Help, Conner! Help Cally! Help Fanny you witch!
To the top of the volcano! To the top of the wall!
Grab the mice! Grab the rats! Grab me I’m gonna fall!"

As dry heaves subsided and they all got their start,
I watched them on screen and dropped a small fart.
So up to the lair-top the warriors they stumbled,
With the bag full of tools, they talked and they bumbled.

And then, in a moment, I heard on the speaker
The whispering and shushing of each little lurker.
As I punched in a code, and turned up the sound,
Down corridor 2 they came with a bound.

They were dressed all in black, from their head to their feet,
It didn’t really matter, as they were all just fresh meat.
That bundle of tools they had in a sack,
wouldn’t do any good when I put them in the rack.

They will all cry with tears on their cheeks!
While I torture and turn them all in to freaks!
They’ll drool from their mouths and down on their shirts,
They’ll cry and they’ll moan with a great many hurts.

The stump of an arm, a hint of sharp teeth,
come from the shadows of a grate from beneath.
It had a broad face and a little round belly,
That shook when it roared, like a bowlful of jelly!

I let that monster loose and set him on course,
And I laughed when I saw him, I love to use force!
A blade in the gut and a twisting of head,
Soon they knew what it was to have dread.

He spoke not a word, but went straight to his work,
And lumbered away with a hitch and a jerk.
This is what happens to any of those,
That get up in my business and stick in their nose!

But this isn’t true, It was all just a dream,
There is no lab and no monster to scream.
I was just sleeping and rose with a yawn,
To yell at those carolers to get off of my lawn!

Re: Poetic Corner (for the Artist in us)

A POEM TO MYSELF
why are you so sad , so mad so angry at life
so selfish to your son and wife
so mean to those you love
you know life doesn't fit like a glove
there are things  that you should be glad
and things you have that others only dream they had
but still you whinge and moan because you have no goal
or is it really because you know you have no soul?
so die you fucker die we say!
you know that it's the only way.

Last edited by wolfman1959 (2010-12-28 08:45:17)

Re: Poetic Corner (for the Artist in us)

.

Last edited by wolfman1959 (2010-12-28 08:43:20)

Re: Poetic Corner (for the Artist in us)

I met a girl and had some luck.
She wasn’t so pretty but she liked to….
I asked her to come with me away.
She said No, because she thinks me gay.
I asked her why.
She said ‘cuz she’s a guy.
And now I am sad and in a rut.
And know why she only took it in the….

Re: Poetic Corner (for the Artist in us)

When you look in a mirror what do you see?
i see someone i don't understand
A stranger looking at me
a stranger with deep, dark sad eyes
someone i always try to disguise
he comes out every now and then
and i know someday i know not when
he won't go away again
i shut my eyes to avoid looking at his face
i try to clear my mind of him without a trace
"you know in time i'll win" he said
" And when i do, you'll be dead"
i wish that this was a dream
that i can awaken from with a scream
will this stop , will i ever be free?
because this enemy is inside of me.

Re: Poetic Corner (for the Artist in us)

Miss Lucy had a steamboat
The steamboat had a bell
Miss Lucy went to heaven
The steamboat went to
Hello, operator
give me number nine
And if you disconnect me
I'll kick you in the
behind the 'fridgerator
there sat a piece of glass
Miss Lucy fell upon it
and cut her little
ask me no more questions
I'll tell you no more lies
The cows are in the pasture
Making chocolate pies.

Thank you.

Re: Poetic Corner (for the Artist in us)

here's another piece i wrote last week in one of my "moods" for want of a better word, and hardly remember writing. hope it don't bore you rigid.

There are people all around, but i feel on my own
All my seeds i feel i have sown
"What's so bad about being dead"?
That's the thought that goes through my head
They call it depression
I have had many a session
I say it's just me
But why should that be?
Nobody sees the demons inside me, that have made their home
Darkness and despair is their payment for the loan
I get all frustrated
I want to die real bad
It hurts so much i wish i'd go mad
I have no thoughts of the future or today
What is the great master plan that makes me feel this way?

Re: Poetic Corner (for the Artist in us)

I wrote this one a couple months ago.

Shopping Mall Nation
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Primitives in a concrete jungle
Searching for fuel of body and the other lost souls
Kicked down by the watchers of "free will"
Scrutinized as they attempt the last thing sacred
The pigs are green and they laugh in high chemical smoke
Freedom with a complimentary pair of handcuffs
The killers are our lovers turned vile
Cages increase with human decrease
While the streets are caked with blood
Drying into the wrinkles of ridiculous history
The gods have a front row seat to the number one freakshow
And they're laughing long after our death
The illusion of freedom of choice is broadcasted into the minds of sheep
and primitives through control devices --
The television, radio, newspaper, grocery stores, and shopping malls.
The nation screams about the differences in sacred soul
And dismisses the similarities in human mind
The agreeing machines raise children
who depend on the illusion and the consumation of the shopping mall nation.
Love in pastel colors and beautiful flowers are projected
Into the minds of this generation's new innocents
Thinking becomes illegal in proportion to the ever binding gadget crave

My mother is me, my father is I
Land of the free, home of the brave, and god on our side
Life is a blessed gift when the ignoramus is consumed with national pride

Re: Poetic Corner (for the Artist in us)

KNOCKING AT THE DOOR


           i walk down that quiet, lonely street
            it seems i've walked for miles with heavy feet
             i see the house
             bathed in  the gloom
             the clouds are gathering
             but it will soon be dawn
             the birds are singing, i think i see a fawn.
             

                I open the gate and walk down the path
                  i knock at the door
                  i wait and stare at the welcome mat on the floor
                   through the glass door pane i see a light
                     it shines through the door and pierces the night
                      the door opens, the light is so bright

                       i see no one but a voice speaks
                        " oh, it's you again, what's this the fourth time?"
                         "Three times before you have knocked at  this door
                           but we could not let you in before
                           now it is your time
                             as i enter i hear a clock chime
                            i follow the light down the hall
                             as i walk i feel my cares fall away
                             the voice says "come David, todays your day"
                            a large shining door ahead opens
                            and i walk in a large room, and i see
                              a large table with people all smiling at me
                             They seem to me familar, and i realise and i break into tears
                      for i reconize my mother and others dear to me they've been dead for years
                       my mum stands and says " my son you're here, no more  pain, come and rest"
                           i look at her, smile and nod my head
                           and take my place at the table of the dead.

Last edited by wolfman1959 (2011-06-04 08:29:55)

Re: Poetic Corner (for the Artist in us)

Love is a feeling that can drive you mad
             
               it is  so good, but can hurt so bad
             
               i love so many, i should be glad
 
               but i feel so guilty that it makes me sad

               i should be happy to love the ones i have and hold dear

               i am and do , but i love others i wish i could hold near
 
                My head tells me it's wrong to feel that way
             
                 My  heart  says you can love them all, listen to what  i say

                 This is the question that haunts and torments me everyday.

Re: Poetic Corner (for the Artist in us)

Not bad, my man, not bad at all!

Re: Poetic Corner (for the Artist in us)

I might have posted this somewhere around here before, not sure, but seeing wolfy's story inspired me to share it:

I'm just the dirt under your feet, a shadow on the wall
I'm words you can't repeat and the bottom of your fall
I'm the itch under your skin, the teardrop in your eye
Your passageway to sin, the darkness in your sky

I'm the rip when you are torn, the love that went astray
The calm before the storm before all is washed away
I'm the voices in your head that no one else can hear
The stranger in your bed that you hold so dear
I'm the knife stuck in your back, the thorn that's in your side
The endless fade to black when all your angels died

I'm the void you thought was heaven, the ending of a dream
The silence from your parted lips when you tried to scream
I'm the future you're expecting and the past you can't erase
The shattered mirror reflecting back at you your face

Re: Poetic Corner (for the Artist in us)

^^ that was great! I loved it.. I never noticed this post, I'ma have to come read all these:)

Re: Poetic Corner (for the Artist in us)

In the East End of London a murder took place

That would change the course of the whole human race

The first murder victim was found dead in the street

There was nothing left except blood, bones and meat

The police found a letter without a name

Soon they were part of his little game

Soon more victims would fall to the blade of ole' Jack

The police knew that he would surely be back

So the next time you watch a horror or mystery

Thank the Ripper for taking his place in history

Re: Poetic Corner (for the Artist in us)

LoudLon wrote:

Miss Lucy had a steamboat
The steamboat had a bell
Miss Lucy went to heaven
The steamboat went to
Hello, operator
give me number nine
And if you disconnect me
I'll kick you in the
behind the 'fridgerator
there sat a piece of glass
Miss Lucy fell upon it
and cut her little
ask me no more questions
I'll tell you no more lies
The cows are in the pasture
Making chocolate pies.

Thank you.

Hahaha:) this made my day! I completely forgot of this until I seen it. I used to sing this all the time as a kid!

Re: Poetic Corner (for the Artist in us)

Jesus Christ superstar
riding on a Yamaha
there are cops but I don't care
cuz I'm wearing bullet-proof underwear
when I die bury me
hang my balls from a cherry tree
when they're ripe
take a bite
but don't blame me if you're sick all night.

I used to sing THAT all the time when I was a tyke.   probably comes as no surprise. LOL

Last edited by deadhorse13 (2011-06-24 17:13:18)

Re: Poetic Corner (for the Artist in us)

^^ is that a real one?! I never heard that lol!

Re: Poetic Corner (for the Artist in us)

I think it is (?)
if it's not, then it's something I came up with at a pretty young age and it stuck in my mind all this time LOL