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Free-Thought Creative: Poems and Rhymes about ANYTHING...

OnSlaught

OnSlaught

Rising Star
BGOL Investor
Whether it's just me that writes in this thread or anyone else it doesn't matter. It's a thread to vent your thoughts, dreams, visions, nightmares, or just what's come up creatively for you at the moment in poem form.

Oh, and one more thing, there is no subject so you can't really get off of one, but if it does try to keep it related to the content posted.

Anyway, I'll begin with my own:

Dreams devoured by nightmarish visions
Cut from the womb that is ITs mind like quick incisions
From cesareans
IT dreamt it was an antiquarian but woke up out of ITs vision
An antique without a prayer again
But it was the antique road show coming from the television
IT could have sworn life was more than this
An existence that didn't predetermine destiny to spiral down an abyss
An orifice that shouts out aspirations
To change the face of the universe,
the world - this nation

ITs impatience waits for no man that waits for no one
The father's a galaxy that birthed a billion boys but not a son
Raised on dust, gas and light beams
I mean IT was raised on angel dust, paint fumes and pipe dreams

IT all must seem like an illusion that's slowly become reality
But it's reality that's made this world a future casualty
The lies, deceit and greed laid at the feet of humanity
Have been picked up and accepted as normality
Twisting the sane towards insanity

Oh the vanity of it all that does ensue
We all pursue goals, success, a better existence - love to subdue
But IT asks do you know the answer to the riddle - have a clue?
To the meaning of life, filed with strife that is so trife - now there is two
Choices to make, to live life well or take the other stake
To just say fuck it I don't care or let the other's bake

In hell where I'll dwell for all of eternity
But ITs not satisfied with that decision, to it you're part of its maternity
Trying to nurture what it gave birth to and see it forth into modernity
You may ask, "What is IT?" IT is life itself, the everlasting tree
 
Freedom's Plow
by Langston Hughes

When a man starts out with nothing,
When a man starts out with his hands
Empty, but clean,
When a man starts to build a world,
He starts first with himself
And the faith that is in his heart-
The strength there,
The will there to build.

First in the heart is the dream-
Then the mind starts seeking a way.
His eyes look out on the world,
On the great wooded world,
On the rich soil of the world,
On the rivers of the world.

The eyes see there materials for building,
See the difficulties, too, and the obstacles.
The mind seeks a way to overcome these obstacles.
The hand seeks tools to cut the wood,
To till the soil, and harness the power of the waters.
Then the hand seeks other hands to help,
A community of hands to help-
Thus the dream becomes not one man’s dream alone,
But a community dream.
Not my dream alone, but our dream.
Not my world alone,
But your world and my world,
Belonging to all the hands who build.

A long time ago, but not too long ago,
Ships came from across the sea
Bringing the Pilgrims and prayer-makers,
Adventurers and booty seekers,
Free men and indentured servants,
Slave men and slave masters, all new-
To a new world, America!

With billowing sails the galleons came
Bringing men and dreams, women and dreams.
In little bands together,
Heart reaching out to heart,
Hand reaching out to hand,
They began to build our land.
Some were free hands
Seeking a greater freedom,
Some were indentured hands
Hoping to find their freedom,
Some were slave hands
Guarding in their hearts the seed of freedom,
But the word was there always:
Freedom.

Down into the earth went the plow
In the free hands and the slave hands,
In indentured hands and adventurous hands,
Turning the rich soil went the plow in many hands
That planted and harvested the food that fed
And the cotton that clothed America.
Clang against the trees went the ax into many hands
That hewed and shaped the rooftops of America.
Splash into the rivers and the seas went the boat-hulls
That moved and transported America.
Crack went the whips that drove the horses
Across the plains of America.
Free hands and slave hands,
Indentured hands, adventurous hands,
White hands and black hands
Held the plow handles,
Ax handles, hammer handles,
Launched the boats and whipped the horses
That fed and housed and moved America.
Thus together through labor,
All these hands made America.

Labor! Out of labor came villages
And the towns that grew cities.
Labor! Out of labor came the rowboats
And the sailboats and the steamboats,
Came the wagons, and the coaches,
Covered wagons, stage coaches,
Out of labor came the factories,
Came the foundries, came the railroads.
Came the marts and markets, shops and stores,
Came the mighty products moulded, manufactured,
Sold in shops, piled in warehouses,
Shipped the wide world over:
Out of labor-white hands and black hands-
Came the dream, the strength, the will,
And the way to build America.
Now it is Me here, and You there.
Now it’s Manhattan, Chicago,
Seattle, New Orleans,
Boston and El Paso-
Now it’s the U.S.A.

A long time ago, but not too long ago, a man said:
ALL MEN ARE CREATED EQUAL--
ENDOWED BY THEIR CREATOR
WITH CERTAIN UNALIENABLE RIGHTS--
AMONG THESE LIFE, LIBERTY
AND THE PURSUIT OF HAPPINESS.
His name was Jefferson. There were slaves then,
But in their hearts the slaves believed him, too,
And silently too for granted
That what he said was also meant for them.
It was a long time ago,
But not so long ago at that, Lincoln said:
NO MAN IS GOOD ENOUGH
TO GOVERN ANOTHER MAN
WITHOUT THAT OTHER’S CONSENT.
There were slaves then, too,
But in their hearts the slaves knew
What he said must be meant for every human being-
Else it had no meaning for anyone.
Then a man said:
BETTER TO DIE FREE
THAN TO LIVE SLAVES
He was a colored man who had been a slave
But had run away to freedom.
And the slaves knew
What Frederick Douglass said was true.

With John Brown at Harper’s Ferry, Negroes died.
John Brown was hung.
Before the Civil War, days were dark,
And nobody knew for sure
When freedom would triumph
"Or if it would," thought some.
But others new it had to triumph.
In those dark days of slavery,
Guarding in their hearts the seed of freedom,
The slaves made up a song:
Keep Your Hand On The Plow! Hold On!
That song meant just what it said: Hold On!
Freedom will come!
Keep Your Hand On The Plow! Hold On!
Out of war it came, bloody and terrible!
But it came!
Some there were, as always,
Who doubted that the war would end right,
That the slaves would be free,
Or that the union would stand,
But now we know how it all came out.
Out of the darkest days for people and a nation,
We know now how it came out.
There was light when the battle clouds rolled away.
There was a great wooded land,
And men united as a nation.

America is a dream.
The poet says it was promises.
The people say it is promises-that will come true.
The people do not always say things out loud,
Nor write them down on paper.
The people often hold
Great thoughts in their deepest hearts
And sometimes only blunderingly express them,
Haltingly and stumblingly say them,
And faultily put them into practice.
The people do not always understand each other.
But there is, somewhere there,
Always the trying to understand,
And the trying to say,
"You are a man. Together we are building our land."

America!
Land created in common,
Dream nourished in common,
Keep your hand on the plow! Hold on!
If the house is not yet finished,
Don’t be discouraged, builder!
If the fight is not yet won,
Don’t be weary, soldier!
The plan and the pattern is here,
Woven from the beginning
Into the warp and woof of America:
ALL MEN ARE CREATED EQUAL.
NO MAN IS GOOD ENOUGH
TO GOVERN ANOTHER MAN
WITHOUT HIS CONSENT.
BETTER DIE FREE,
THAN TO LIVE SLAVES.
Who said those things? Americans!
Who owns those words? America!
Who is America? You, me!
We are America!
To the enemy who would conquer us from without,
We say, NO!
To the enemy who would divide
And conquer us from within,
We say, NO!
FREEDOM!
BROTHERHOOD!
DEMOCRACY!
To all the enemies of these great words:
We say, NO!

A long time ago,
An enslaved people heading toward freedom
Made up a song:
Keep Your Hand On The Plow! Hold On!
The plow plowed a new furrow
Across the field of history.
Into that furrow the freedom seed was dropped.
From that seed a tree grew, is growing, will ever grow.
That tree is for everybody,
For all America, for all the world.
May its branches spread and shelter grow
Until all races and all peoples know its shade.
KEEP YOUR HAND ON THE PLOW! HOLD ON!
 
She's but a silhouette a dark soul behind a tainted reflection.
the music controls her hips like a snake charmers flute.

I'm taking in as she dances with a guy,through the
flickers of strobe we lock eyes in a depeche mode.

flashing lights freeze time, snapshots because the breeze is fine.
her eyes kill me soflty a lonely death indeed, Only she can resurrect
all the thoughts I intrigued.

Her body is like a rare vase ,rose pedals and thorns.
she moves like the ocean through bad weather and storms.

From the observation tower I could be her guiding light.
But why give wings to an angel that's already in flight?

internal conflict constricts my movements like boa.
as the music controls her hips like a snake charmers cobra.

She's but a silhouette, a dark soul behind a tainted reflection.
But somehow a hidden treasure unclaimed but perfected.

peace fam.
 
Last edited:
Chicago cold. My nose is freezing. Sat on a train with homeless sleeping/
I hope she's breathing. Maybe it'd be better if the chill froze her soul this evening/
Is the world too much? It is what it is...simple human nature/
And if there is a God, then surely he has no room to save her/
Entombed in hatred. Turbans on planes? Sit in our section?/
For our own protection we cross the street from those without our skin complexion/
Flip the tube on to two songs; one ignorant, one talentless/
"Hip hop's dead" he said. True. Call the examiners/
The cause of death was suffocation. It carried too much burden/
But even saying "Hip hop's dead" is dead, so who the fuck's for certain?/
Ingesting the music inspires poetical musings. We're force fed failure/
Born dead? Sail your ship to brighter ports. Let the dawn's red "ok" you.../
I'm not a thug, say no to drugs. Yeah, I don't seem strong/
Never cocked a gun or even owned a knife. I don't need one/
But this isn't hippie talk. The shit we walk is the shit we do/
Idiot fools snap and blast a campus because they got pissed at school?/
You've missed a tool. Knowledge equals power. Ask KRS or Chuck D/
Look outside your Suburban life and cries of "The system fucked me!"/
That's rusty. People struggle daily. The weak still huddle...plainly/
There are those using mud for gravy hoping "Jesus' love will save me!"/
This written piece may be a rant. It seems I can't but sound cliche/
But with so many people speaking the same can you ignore what we say?/
 
She said let's be friends first
Begged me to believe she was really serious
Shrugged my shoulders and said OK
In less than two months another guy
Had gotten the right of way

We are friends and
I do not think of u like that
Is all i now hear while another guy
Uses u and throws u away like a used jimmy hat

You call me all the time
Crying about guys treating u like grime
Whenever u want something
It is me u will always call
Other guys punk you and get to give you the dick
Yet it is nice ole me that you always want to trick

Your body that was so fine
Is now feeling the heavy hands of time
The looks that gave so much pride
Are now fading slowly but oh so surely
So you better rope off a guy early
And do it while u still can
I wish you luck but i know
That i will not be that man.
 
AlexandMorgan said:
She said let's be friends first
Begged me to believe she was really serious
Shrugged my shoulders and said OK
In less than two months another guy
Had gotten the right of way

We are friends and
I do not think of u like that
Is all i now hear while another guy
Uses u and throws u away like a used jimmy hat

You call me all the time
Crying about guys treating u like grime
Whenever u want something
It is me u will always call
Other guys punk you and get to give you the dick
Yet it is nice ole me that you always want to trick

Your body that was so fine
Is now feeling the heavy hands of time
The looks that gave so much pride
Are now fading slowly but oh so surely
So you better rope off a guy early
And do it while u still can
I wish you luck but i know
That i will not be that man.
Click to expand...

:eek: ok ok... i gotta respect that... good one
 
Nice drops from everyone...feel free to interpret what's been written also. Like the thread title says, free-thought creative...

Thinking back - waking black
Back breaking - aching back
Breaking sac - now making
Sac burst - sperm attack

Burst undulating - ovarian track
Undulating crack - life born
Crack DNA - haploid's gamete
DNA secrete - zygote formed

Secrete info - genetic limbo
Info diploid - genetics torn
Diploid split - uterine horn
Split womb - inside dwelling

Womb swelling - 3rd trimester
Swelling feet - placenta festers
Feet wet - vagina measures
Wet dilation - 10sec contractions

Dilation wide - time backwards
Wide canal - pain surges
Canal widens - life's password
Widens hopes - dream emerges

Hopes rise - fear collides
Rise courage - faith purges
Courage subsides - angel's dirges
Subsides death - life victorious

Death sleep - dream back
Sleep fall - fade black...
 
Sorry it's so long...

On the day he opened his mind she opened a vein...
Back track to the beginning.
It was his inning. With limp correct he checked through the club.
Hubbub. Humdrum...dumb fun.
There she was.
Strobe lights catered to vision and stuttered ten of her.
Heaven's words tumble through his mind.
She was an angel, tamed through dance...
But she didn't grind. Didn't shake it. Didn't grab at dick potential in sequential patterns nodding towards the future where she'll "Hold it down, daddy."
She moved, gladly.
Paid homage to the rhythm.
He approached, throat parched.
She was an angel, haloed by a shaft of halo.
"Hey...yo..."
She stopped.
He stopped.
Much to his surprise, she thrust her lips and shut her eyes.
She landed butterfly whispers on his soul.
A second ago she was unknown. Now...his everything.
Fast forward with me...
Dating now.
She'd state that, somehow, poetry touched her.
He rushed her...pushing for her pushing.
X rated.
Never vexed...never hated.
She would tell him of Buddhism, blues rhythms, new fiction, food, living.
He'd talk of nude licking, booze, chicken, crude dicking, two women.
For him she still echoed womanhood in Eden but oven stuck to scheming.
Told her...
"You're dreaming."
She only smiled.
Handed him the miles and miles she'd come in anecdotes, painful tales.
Painted nails.
Heaving bossom.
Can you believe this woman? Perfect in her journey.
There was more to her than whorish punchlines.
And sometimes...
She just wanted him to listen.
Her prison was her past.
Hard times formed scar lines on her persona but his yearn to hold her was folded in dreams of fumbling through panties for fantasies granted.
Fast forward somewhat...
She slept.
He crept.
Opened her purse and pursued her secret treasure that wasn't betwixt her thighs.
To his surprise there it lay.
The Journal.
He read as she slumbered. He thumbed through dumbfounded.
She slept.
He...wept.
And understood. He tasted the bittersweet essence of her angel wings.
She was caged within.
She awoke.
Choked, he cradled her and uttered sorries that roared like Zeus' heartbreak.
She calmed.
"Take it. Read it. You need it."
With that she stood, smiled and kissed his lips, gripped his hips and whispered it..."
"You'll see why I never could."
She turned...left.
He didn't go after. Felt the cold draft of the door shut.
She never slammed, this gentile queen.
Next day. Phone ringing.
The news rang louder.
Open minded, he flung open doors, ran to open ground.
Open mouthed, he opened his soul. She'd left an open hole.
Open casket.
He didn't even hope to mask it. Grief.
He propped the journal on the reef.
And left...
In love and and understanding.
 
OnSlaught said:
Nice drops from everyone...feel free to interpret what's been written also. Like the thread title says, free-thought creative...

Thinking back - waking black
Back breaking - aching back
Breaking sac - now making
Sac burst - sperm attack

Burst undulating - ovarian track
Undulating crack - life born
Crack DNA - haploid's gamete
DNA secrete - zygote formed

Secrete info - genetic limbo
Info diploid - genetics torn
Diploid split - uterine horn
Split womb - inside dwelling

Womb swelling - 3rd trimester
Swelling feet - placenta festers
Feet wet - vagina measures
Wet dilation - 10sec contractions

Dilation wide - time backwards
Wide canal - pain surges
Canal widens - life's password
Widens hopes - dream emerges

Hopes rise - fear collides
Rise courage - faith purges
Courage subsides - angel's dirges
Subsides death - life victorious

Death sleep - dream back
Sleep fall - fade black...
Click to expand...

While this poem is superb enough in its content, it's the complexity of its format that blew me away. The rhyme schemes, the beginning of the next line with the end of the previous. This is really powerful and adds so much to it.

Excellent stuff.
 
The Magnificent Butcher said:
Chicago cold. My nose is freezing. Sat on a train with homeless sleeping/
I hope she's breathing. Maybe it'd be better if the chill froze her soul this evening/
Is the world too much? It is what it is...simple human nature/
And if there is a God, then surely he has no room to save her/
Entombed in hatred. Turbans on planes? Sit in our section?/
For our own protection we cross the street from those without our skin complexion/
Flip the tube on to two songs; one ignorant, one talentless/
"Hip hop's dead" he said. True. Call the examiners/
The cause of death was suffocation. It carried too much burden/
But even saying "Hip hop's dead" is dead, so who the fuck's for certain?/
Ingesting the music inspires poetical musings. We're force fed failure/
Born dead? Sail your ship to brighter ports. Let the dawn's red "ok" you.../
I'm not a thug, say no to drugs. Yeah, I don't seem strong/
Never cocked a gun or even owned a knife. I don't need one/
But this isn't hippie talk. The shit we walk is the shit we do/
Idiot fools snap and blast a campus because they got pissed at school?/
You've missed a tool. Knowledge equals power. Ask KRS or Chuck D/
Look outside your Suburban life and cries of "The system fucked me!"/
That's rusty. People struggle daily. The weak still huddle...plainly/
There are those using mud for gravy hoping "Jesus' love will save me!"/
This written piece may be a rant. It seems I can't but sound cliche/
But with so many people speaking the same can you ignore what we say?/
Click to expand...

Butcher man, I'm not sure if I ever got a chance to tell you but I always admired the flow of your rhymes. The way you dissect it just makes it sound as if you were spittin' in front of me. That's one thing I have to perfect as far as writing rhymes down. It's a bit different when it comes to poetry but I can never really personify my rhymes in written form. Point I'm trying to make, it sounds better in person! lol

Anyway, do you know a dude who rhymes named War-cloud, formally known as Holocaust? You two have similar rhyme patterns, the shit's off the hook.

The Magnificent Butcher said:
Sorry it's so long...

On the day he opened his mind she opened a vein...
Back track to the beginning.
It was his inning. With limp correct he checked through the club.
Hubbub. Humdrum...dumb fun.
There she was.
Strobe lights catered to vision and stuttered ten of her.
Heaven's words tumble through his mind.
She was an angel, tamed through dance...
But she didn't grind. Didn't shake it. Didn't grab at dick potential in sequential patterns nodding towards the future where she'll "Hold it down, daddy."
She moved, gladly.
Paid homage to the rhythm.
He approached, throat parched.
She was an angel, haloed by a shaft of halo.
"Hey...yo..."
She stopped.
He stopped.
Much to his surprise, she thrust her lips and shut her eyes.
She landed butterfly whispers on his soul.
A second ago she was unknown. Now...his everything.
Fast forward with me...
Dating now.
She'd state that, somehow, poetry touched her.
He rushed her...pushing for her pushing.
X rated.
Never vexed...never hated.
She would tell him of Buddhism, blues rhythms, new fiction, food, living.
He'd talk of nude licking, booze, chicken, crude dicking, two women.
For him she still echoed womanhood in Eden but oven stuck to scheming.
Told her...
"You're dreaming."
She only smiled.
Handed him the miles and miles she'd come in anecdotes, painful tales.
Painted nails.
Heaving bossom.
Can you believe this woman? Perfect in her journey.
There was more to her than whorish punchlines.
And sometimes...
She just wanted him to listen.
Her prison was her past.
Hard times formed scar lines on her persona but his yearn to hold her was folded in dreams of fumbling through panties for fantasies granted.
Fast forward somewhat...
She slept.
He crept.
Opened her purse and pursued her secret treasure that wasn't betwixt her thighs.
To his surprise there it lay.
The Journal.
He read as she slumbered. He thumbed through dumbfounded.
She slept.
He...wept.
And understood. He tasted the bittersweet essence of her angel wings.
She was caged within.
She awoke.
Choked, he cradled her and uttered sorries that roared like Zeus' heartbreak.
She calmed.
"Take it. Read it. You need it."
With that she stood, smiled and kissed his lips, gripped his hips and whispered it..."
"You'll see why I never could."
She turned...left.
He didn't go after. Felt the cold draft of the door shut.
She never slammed, this gentile queen.
Next day. Phone ringing.
The news rang louder.
Open minded, he flung open doors, ran to open ground.
Open mouthed, he opened his soul. She'd left an open hole.
Open casket.
He didn't even hope to mask it. Grief.
He propped the journal on the reef.
And left...
In love and and understanding.
Click to expand...

Deep...it's a refreshing change to read poetry from you like that. I definitely was intertwined in the story and I liked the layering of text, deeper meaninng.

By the way, thanks for the critique of mines. Hey, I appreciate it, and will take constructive criticism so don't confuse what you see in the "battle" thread for an attitude. I actually like gettin' feedback.
 
OnSlaught said:
Thanks Iza...waiting for your drop...
Click to expand...

Awww man you and Mag B gonna show me up but I'm going to support with my itty bitty rhyme for now. I do better with prose.:)

I posted this on another forum recently

This phantom trying to steal my breathe
He's looking at me promising death
blow to the ego
laid low sutures in my soul
bloody tears and broken teeth
a testament of this agony
of birth
of what?
of me to him or him to me?
Its only ego seeking his approval
with an apostalic zeal
unyielding and brutal
praying to be better interred

I still love him...

But now i'm inhaling the divine and
exhaling the sublime
and the flesh can't keep contained
this sweet as honeysuckle
moment of my rebirth.
 
The Magnificent Butcher said:
Sorry it's so long...

On the day he opened his mind she opened a vein...
Back track to the beginning.
It was his inning. With limp correct he checked through the club.
Hubbub. Humdrum...dumb fun.
There she was.
Strobe lights catered to vision and stuttered ten of her.
Heaven's words tumble through his mind.
She was an angel, tamed through dance...
But she didn't grind. Didn't shake it. Didn't grab at dick potential in sequential patterns nodding towards the future where she'll "Hold it down, daddy."
She moved, gladly.
Paid homage to the rhythm.
He approached, throat parched.
She was an angel, haloed by a shaft of halo.
"Hey...yo..."
She stopped.
He stopped.
Much to his surprise, she thrust her lips and shut her eyes.
She landed butterfly whispers on his soul.
A second ago she was unknown. Now...his everything.
Fast forward with me...
Dating now.
She'd state that, somehow, poetry touched her.
He rushed her...pushing for her pushing.
X rated.
Never vexed...never hated.
She would tell him of Buddhism, blues rhythms, new fiction, food, living.
He'd talk of nude licking, booze, chicken, crude dicking, two women.
For him she still echoed womanhood in Eden but oven stuck to scheming.
Told her...
"You're dreaming."
She only smiled.
Handed him the miles and miles she'd come in anecdotes, painful tales.
Painted nails.
Heaving bossom.
Can you believe this woman? Perfect in her journey.
There was more to her than whorish punchlines.
And sometimes...
She just wanted him to listen.
Her prison was her past.
Hard times formed scar lines on her persona but his yearn to hold her was folded in dreams of fumbling through panties for fantasies granted.
Fast forward somewhat...
She slept.
He crept.
Opened her purse and pursued her secret treasure that wasn't betwixt her thighs.
To his surprise there it lay.
The Journal.
He read as she slumbered. He thumbed through dumbfounded.
She slept.
He...wept.
And understood. He tasted the bittersweet essence of her angel wings.
She was caged within.
She awoke.
Choked, he cradled her and uttered sorries that roared like Zeus' heartbreak.
She calmed.
"Take it. Read it. You need it."
With that she stood, smiled and kissed his lips, gripped his hips and whispered it..."
"You'll see why I never could."
She turned...left.
He didn't go after. Felt the cold draft of the door shut.
She never slammed, this gentile queen.
Next day. Phone ringing.
The news rang louder.
Open minded, he flung open doors, ran to open ground.
Open mouthed, he opened his soul. She'd left an open hole.
Open casket.
He didn't even hope to mask it. Grief.
He propped the journal on the reef.
And left...
In love and and understanding.
Click to expand...


Dope... very nice flow... I like the use of story telling.. Your choice of line breaks works wonderfully...


Ming Fei Hong said:
[flash]http://www.youtube.com/v/y1qrHUsNT9s[/flash]
Click to expand...

That was HHHOOOTTTTT!!!! all I can say..
 
Ming Fei Hong said:
[flash]http://www.youtube.com/v/y1qrHUsNT9s[/flash]
Click to expand...

Hey Ming, if that's you bro, you got talent. :yes: Hey, go find the thread I started with the Beneath the Surface...I wanted you and a few other's critique, especially since it was your idea in the first place to post ciphers about songs and interpret the meaning.
 
Izayoi said:
Awww man you and Mag B gonna show me up but I'm going to support with my itty bitty rhyme for now. I do better with prose.:)

I posted this on another forum recently

This phantom trying to steal my breathe
He's looking at me promising death
blow to the ego
laid low sutures in my soul
bloody tears and broken teeth
a testament of this agony
of birth
of what?
of me to him or him to me?
Its only ego seeking his approval
with an apostalic zeal
unyielding and brutal
praying to be better interred

I still love him...

But now i'm inhaling the divine and
exhaling the sublime
and the flesh can't keep contained
this sweet as honeysuckle
moment of my rebirth.
Click to expand...

What I say girl, it doesn't have to be a rhyme...shoot, it doesn't have to rhyme. Just thoughts that pass your mind in prose and other related forms.

I like it though...short, sweet and to the point. Emotion evokes such beauty...:)
 
Thanks for this onslaught. I felt my other works was not appropriate for the love & inspiration thread.

Warped & Twisted

Harsh words & violent blows
Hidden secrets nobody knows
Eyes are open, hands are fisted
Deep inside I’m warped & twisted
So many tricks so many lies
Too many when’s, too many why’s
Nobody special nobody gifted
I’m just me, warped & twisted
Sleeping awake & choking on a dream
Listening loudly to a silent scream
Call my mind, the numbers unlisted
Lost in someone so warped & twisted
On my knees, alive but dead
Look at the invisible blood I’ve bled
I’m not gone, my mind has drifted
Don’t expect much, I’m warped & Twist
Burnt out wasted, empty & hollow
Today’s just yesterdays tomorrow
The sun died out, the ashes sifted
I’m still here, warped & twisted

Noble​
 
Was watching the discovery channel the other day and there was a show about sharks. It got the creative juices flowing and I came up with this little piece.


The Shark and His Prey

Nonchalant
Simply roaming
Down into the deep
The journey seeming endless
Further and further down
Away from light
Thoughtless and free
Eyes moving rapidly
Seeking and killing
Everything he sees
Eyes gaze at movement
Movement from far away
Heart begins to race
As he streams toward his target
His victim
His meal
There he is, the nervous prey
Trembling but motionless
"Please, mister. Don't eat me. Don't eat me today."
"Don't bother begging. You can't get away. Without a doubt, I will eat you today."
He smirked
His mouth open wide
Showing his razor teeth
Intimidating
Forcing the helpless victim to whine and beg
"Please, mister. Don't eat me. Don't eat me on this beautiful day."
Mouth opens wider
Showing aggrivation
His patience wearing thin
He's ready to begin
"Please! I beg you! Don't eat me! Today is my birthday!"
His monsterous face turned sincere
"Oh, helpless victim, why do you beg? I'm only doing my job that I do everyday."
Face turns to white
Hopeless and afraid
Awaiting his death
The soon to be victim yelps a desperate plea with his final breaths
"Please spare my life. I'm too young to die. My family lives right over there. You can eat them if you spare my life today."
The beast cracked a smile
Beggining to laugh
leaving his victim in suspicion
Of what he was holding back
"I offer my family in replace of myself. I don't understand why you laugh like you do."
His laugh turned to silence
The cunning expression of his face intensified
"Right before I ate your family, they said the same thing about you."


Noble
 
hellfish said:
Thanks for this onslaught. I felt my other works was not appropriate for the love & inspiration thread.

Warped & Twisted

Harsh words & violent blows
Hidden secrets nobody knows
Eyes are open, hands are fisted
Deep inside I’m warped & twisted
So many tricks so many lies
Too many when’s, too many why’s
Nobody special nobody gifted
I’m just me, warped & twisted
Sleeping awake & choking on a dream
Listening loudly to a silent scream
Call my mind, the numbers unlisted
Lost in someone so warped & twisted
On my knees, alive but dead
Look at the invisible blood I’ve bled
I’m not gone, my mind has drifted
Don’t expect much, I’m warped & Twist
Burnt out wasted, empty & hollow
Today’s just yesterdays tomorrow
The sun died out, the ashes sifted
I’m still here, warped & twisted

Noble​
Click to expand...

Your welcome Hellfish...I really liked this one here, right up my alley. I liked the vivid and morbidness of this one. Keep it up...:yes:
 
Pain
You do not know what it is
A wooden spoon trying to take out my heart
Wielded by a woman who i thought had the part
Of lover, friend and soulmate to the end

Anger
Yes at being made a fool of
Tricked and humiliated in pursuit
Of this thing called love
At myself for believing that you truly were my friend
Now to realize it was a dream that has now come crashing to the end.

Hatred
Do i hate you still?
Maybe i guess
But if i keep holding onto it
The only thing i will know is loneliness
Why? Because in order to hate you turn your back on love
And nobody is worth that
Ask the BIG MAN above

Forgiveness
Yes I can but i will never forget
Some lessons are hard but i am becoming a vet
At seeing the good and the bad
In people every single day
I will continue to look for the good
And hope that the bad will just stay away

Hope
Is something that you should never release
Even when darkness should beckon
I look at the world and reckon
I am surrounded by beauty
I will appreciate it as long as i can
Why? Because it is my duty
To spread some love and give a little shove
To those who wallow in the dark
And introduce them to the beauty
So we can all leave our little mark
In this world we can all shine brighter
Even if there is just a little hope we spark
If each of us have shine together
Then we can eliminate the dark

P.S Pain comes and pain goes
And it may leave you with some sorrows
Light heals but the darkness only conceals
The bruises that we bear
When we attempt our love to share.
 
AlexandMorgan said:
Pain
You do not know what it is
A wooden spoon trying to take out my heart
Wielded by a woman who i thought had the part
Of lover, friend and soulmate to the end

Anger
Yes at being made a fool of
Tricked and humiliated in pursuit
Of this thing called love
At myself for believing that you truly were my friend
Now to realize it was a dream that has now come crashing to the end.

Hatred
Do i hate you still?
Maybe i guess
But if i keep holding onto it
The only thing i will know is loneliness
Why? Because in order to hate you turn your back on love
And nobody is worth that
Ask the BIG MAN above

Forgiveness
Yes I can but i will never forget
Some lessons are hard but i am becoming a vet
At seeing the good and the bad
In people every single day
I will continue to look for the good
And hope that the bad will just stay away

Hope
Is something that you should never release
Even when darkness should beckon
I look at the world and reckon
I am surrounded by beauty
I will appreciate it as long as i can
Why? Because it is my duty
To spread some love and give a little shove
To those who wallow in the dark
And introduce them to the beauty
So we can all leave our little mark
In this world we can all shine brighter
Even if there is just a little hope we spark
If each of us have shine together
Then we can eliminate the dark

P.S Pain comes and pain goes
And it may leave you with some sorrows
Light heals but the darkness only conceals
The bruises that we bear
When we attempt our love to share.
Click to expand...

Alex man, that was raw! I liked the way you spun off of each emotion but yet you kept it all on the same topic. I'm sure you and I have shared in the same experience with love being ripped away and then dealing with the healing process.

On another note though, shit, I'll just PM you on that one....:lol:
 
Going to give this thread a little bump
SOL right now is in the middle of a negative slump
Anger and hatred are on the board being dumped
So anything even remotely positive will be bumped
Saying something negative only proves you are a chump.:hmm:
 
Izayoi said:
Ming that was UNFUCKINGBELIEVABLE.
It added a nice dimension seeing you move with the rhythm of the words.

FreeDumb...wow!
Click to expand...

Ming is like breathing. :yes:

Bredren you know I would appreciate it immensely if you could put dem words down yes. :yes: Thanks sug.


AlexandMorgan said:
Pain
You do not know what it is
A wooden spoon trying to take out my heart
Wielded by a woman who i thought had the part
Of lover, friend and soulmate to the end

Anger
Yes at being made a fool of
Tricked and humiliated in pursuit
Of this thing called love
At myself for believing that you truly were my friend
Now to realize it was a dream that has now come crashing to the end.

Hatred
Do i hate you still?
Maybe i guess
But if i keep holding onto it
The only thing i will know is loneliness
Why? Because in order to hate you turn your back on love
And nobody is worth that
Ask the BIG MAN above

Forgiveness
Yes I can but i will never forget
Some lessons are hard but i am becoming a vet
At seeing the good and the bad
In people every single day
I will continue to look for the good
And hope that the bad will just stay away

Hope
Is something that you should never release
Even when darkness should beckon
I look at the world and reckon
I am surrounded by beauty
I will appreciate it as long as i can
Why? Because it is my duty
To spread some love and give a little shove
To those who wallow in the dark
And introduce them to the beauty
So we can all leave our little mark
In this world we can all shine brighter
Even if there is just a little hope we spark
If each of us have shine together
Then we can eliminate the dark

P.S Pain comes and pain goes
And it may leave you with some sorrows
Light heals but the darkness only conceals
The bruises that we bear
When we attempt our love to share.
Click to expand...

Raw Alexand. give thanks for de vibe.
 
im going to vote for a canidate that will take a stand/ not one who is going off the popularity of her hus-band/you see it goes further than being black/I think obama is ready for the attack/hillary is wack/crying on tv/ call me shovanistic but a woman cant run this country/.............. to be continued
 

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