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take the moon
Feb 12, 2011



im on the net me boys posted:

I submitted four poems to Poetry Magazine. Now to wait seven months.

gj

top of page poem

obsessive compulsions destroy animal love


i'm my toxic context
casual causal
slips past the mesh
forges riverbeds

they cling to ankles
their gibbous guts
live, nourish
blaspheme, bleed

break the barriers, disuse the used, loathe the selves, dance through teeth, claw without bone, tear with your voice and die together

e2: so i just got accepted into a free e-zine for a poem about a goon meet with a p low ratio of pubs to subs, which i put down to the efforts of this thread. not naming it cuz doxxing, but i'm p hype considering this threads awk start, so ty goons

take the moon fucked around with this message at Nov 13, 2018 around 01:50

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left_unattended
Apr 13, 2009

"The person who seeks all their applause from outside has their happiness in another's keeping."
Dale Carnegie

I haven't written (bad) poetry since high school, but then my best friend went and died on me after 16 years of being my missing puzzle piece and participant/encouragement/instigator to all of our shenanigans. He was born with a broken spine, but he never let it slow him down. It doesn't have a title yet.



Born
broken
but lived

full.
Never
say die.
Did you know?

Too soon.
Gone.
Come back.
We weren't
done.

left_unattended fucked around with this message at Nov 14, 2018 around 15:23

take the moon
Feb 12, 2011



left_unattended posted:

Born
broken
but lived

full.
Never
say die.
Did you know?

Too soon.
Gone.
Come back.
We weren't
done.

thank you

take the moon
Feb 12, 2011



teavolved

i felt my heartbeat on the sheets
that kind of means time is flowing?
precepts grown interlude psychic pain
i am tired of rain
tired of snow
tired of morning dew
because waking hurts and coffee chills
too layered worn too wired to gloss glass
glossolalic nightmares can't be put to page
break
we've been orphans too naive to be parents
we've been left alone
your situation matters raised by subway stations
heaven's sake
hell's soju
does it unpretty your moon?
does it smog over?
so you can dream it close or away
i swallow it
i talk over it
i chase it
and it pierces

take the moon
Feb 12, 2011



e: embarassing

take the moon fucked around with this message at Dec 25, 2018 around 20:13

Nahrix
Mar 17, 2004

Can't afford to eat out

im on the net me boys posted:

I submitted four poems to Poetry Magazine. Now to wait seven months.

I hope you get every one of them!

Sulla Faex
May 14, 2010

No man ever did me so much good, or enemy so much harm, but I repaid him with ENDLESS SHITPOSTING


Plaster Town Cop

Nahrix posted:

This is awesome. My humble suggestion would be to make some very small changes on the third verse:

Oh, what an underhanded gift is
A Midas touch, this

thank you! i'd completely forgotten about this one and i definitely need to go over it again. the only problem with your suggestion is falling out of the metre, but there are a few things i dont like about the poem that i want to rework anyway, so i'll add it to the list and check it again properly when i get the energy. speaking of, ive just finished another rework of a poem i'd left aside for a couple months, and i'm really appreciating the time in between to distance myself from what i'm trying to say (and how impressed i am with myself for saying it) vs what's actually there and what the medium requires to work

e: i just realised this thread is open to the public and i might want to submit this one to a competition, so ive edited it out for now. sorry!

Sulla Faex fucked around with this message at Nov 27, 2018 around 12:24

take the moon
Feb 12, 2011



Sulla-Marius 88 posted:

e: i just realised this thread is open to the public and i might want to submit this one to a competition, so ive edited it out for now. sorry!

im sorry i missed it

e: embarassing

take the moon fucked around with this message at Dec 25, 2018 around 20:13

Sulla Faex
May 14, 2010

No man ever did me so much good, or enemy so much harm, but I repaid him with ENDLESS SHITPOSTING


Plaster Town Cop

yeah alright, i was looking into a few competitions and apart from being too poor to chance the entry fee on a beginner level poem, it's all just prose now, and form poetry seems out of vogue. no point whatsoever. so here's what i've got so far - just for you, op!

This old town

Black-bruised limbs in rotting trees
Hold no birds and bear no leaves
Long gone the gale that howls and wails, now
Silence stalks enfeebled breeze.

Hollow houses creak and sway
Hallowed halls of walled decay
The roads well-worn, cut through the thorns,
Wend and bend, let no man stray.

Nothing grows in this old town
Save the ghosts who gather round
The effigies and shrines divine, like
Motley weeds in hostile ground.

Gruesome puppets fed false word
Twisted recall, lines absurd
A bitter farce, this comfort sparse of
Sterile womb for hopes interred.

Countless steps carved in the road,
Hewn from guilt, narcosis slowed,
Have built this tomb, in debt to whom
Surely no more steps are owed.

Shackled thoughts for freedom yearn
Flame-starved streets await their turn
With jealous hands, these holy lands
Time has set at last to burn.

So let the kind cathartic flame
Bare the lies behind the claim
That breeds ill sleep: if needs be deep,
Fate might yield to human shame.

Roaring heat devours all
Courtless thrones whose ancient fall
Was set in stone, despite the groans of
Disgraced king turned common thrall.

Falling ash forms final cast,
Lays these ghosts to rest at last.
Fear less the curse of gods adverse -
Man's worst hell lies in his past.

Now the lonely footsteps lead
Past the boundaries, past the weeds,
Where banished night cedes morning light:
Tantalus, from prison freed.

take the moon
Feb 12, 2011



it looks like a lot of effort and craft went into it. it passes the "better than anything i could ever write" test for sure. this

Sulla-Marius 88 posted:

Countless steps carved in the road,
Hewn from guilt, narcosis slowed,
Have built this tomb, in debt to whom
Surely no more steps are owed.

is my favourite verse. narcosis is a sweet word, obviously bringing to mind necrosis, implying a deathlike trance or psychoactive decay. you obviously have a gift for this, so i would tend to your flowers of etymology games and tight rhyming.

i wouldn't pay to sub a poem, tho im kind of sailing on the do it for free get yrself out there boat rn. i think for sure theres a spot for this super sweet form poetry, just scour the internet imo.

thank you

fields

aeons of psyche
blunt fist
leashes petals to butterflies
they float over deep
reflections
find solace with others
then mountains shift
flood
last time they sigh and gash
cut up
a delven earth and coma wings
shift to rustled sheets
give in
tumeric spirit
a haze, a mist, a shimmer
the convex falls into warpaint
crows unkept hybrids of selves
thatching eyes and waves, bleed
drain them and cry leaves in smoke
grass blades and clouded sky
proto synthesis, dissolve chems
stray wolves and toxic souls
feel light, thinking of light, deep
water, aged bones, lost memory
frighten and hold love for amber

vein

caged in mirrors, bones, skin, broken
solar burns disease and torn eyes
real, degrades, sugar pale, left alone
walking is balance and headrush
knifed at edges. scour at, aura
spit at godheads, break daughters
what did it feel like? never words
world birther, world bearer slept
visions of medusas

take the moon fucked around with this message at Dec 14, 2018 around 02:16

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CatStacking
Jan 9, 2010

~A Purely Preposterous Pussy~


I wrote this to help cope with the end of a 7 year relationship. I was driving back home and the title and a few phrases just kinda popped into my head. Iíd love any thoughts!

The Haunted Heart is Home

The hallway is empty and cold,
It echoes only of residual memories trapped in time like amber.

The windows are broken and dull,
Somehow dead but all seeing at once.
The wallpaper is tear stained, or is it just water that changes the colour?

Every creak and groan brings hope,
A warm spot that could be your homecoming.
But Iím told that hope and hauntings arenít real.
And itís all just the wind.

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