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Scraps (by JM's specific request)
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Scraps (by JM's specific request) |
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Local Parasite
since 2001-11-05
Posts 2527Transylconia, Winnipeg 
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JM sent me a very persuasive (begging) email about posting my own scraps. I've gone through my stuff, unfinished word documents, little pieces of paper in my binders that started poems but never finished, or never made PIP. First of all, if anything in here seems familiar, it's because often I'll toss my scraps aside and then use a line or image from my scraps in one of my more major works later on. So this is probably where it appeared first. Second, most of these aren't finished, there are gaps where lines might be, there are lines that don't quite end... it's all choppy and I just ended up ditching them, either by losing interest or giving up on them. At any rate, here're my scraps: *** (don't know the date on this one. Just a bunch of stuff I was messing around with during my fear of death. I still fear death if you're curious. Sometimes it's fun to capture a vision of death as a physical place... I mean, hey, theists can so why can't I?) Afterliving Out on the sea of the barren plateau Silken and cottony, chapels of snow Children so noble, the sporelings of sin Singing their scorn to the shadow that flies Skipping so outward but strangled within Nothing to lighten the pins from our eyes Into the valleys, and under the falls Fetuses scratching the uteran walls Limber with vision, but lacking a source Infants that suckle to teats of remorse Frosty and bitten with history's tooth Fallacies glowing in malice's truth Sunshine is mystery, warmth is a dream All in the distance of galaxies far Slowly, their voices rise high in a scream O what vainglorious beings we are *** (a paradelle I couldn't make a sensible last stanza to. I had a few little notes at the bottom of this word doc, possible startings to a last stanza, so I've included them.) Ball of Black Shadows globe of shadows in the sky globe of shadows in the sky casting dark upon the land casting dark upon the land casting globe of shadows in the sky, upon the land, dark creatures of the hidden chant creatures of the hidden chant sending praise unto their gods sending praise unto their gods praise unto the hidden creatures sending their chant of gods one of us will perish one of us will perish at the thought, the shadows deepen at the thought, the shadows deepen the shadows deepen at will one of us? perish the thought. shadows of the sky chant shadows of the land deepen will the dark perish? *** (no real title, I was just ranting on to a girl I was trying to impress... this must have been about two years ago. Had to dig it out of my MSN logs... hehe... Blah at my older poetry, it's pretty primitive. But at least it's improvisational.) came to me in a vision, it did. the gremlin came into my room, and here's what the gremlin said. "you will have the woman that you desire, that is your fate, and your doom." so I hacked off the gremlin's head. with the stains about the place, and the room in a tangle, I left the torso in the sill of the window, to forever ward, and to dangle and then you arrived, in a specter of azure, for my salvation or my punishment I wasn't entirely sure. you spoke to me in whispers, a chill about the air. a spark of heat within your eyes, a squirt of liquid fire in you hair. the ice was the wing on which you rode, the darkness your refuge, and my abode. you told me all I wished to hear, I stood upwright and drew you near a simple kiss was all I gave... and then you left. the gremlin remains, like a valentine that a child would save. his torso rotten, getting old. i've never forgotten your embrace so cold... and still I kiss the air at night... the wing of ice somewhere out there, forever in flight *** (wrote it for french class last year, based on a poem of the same name. We had to write a poem in the same format, about where we'd write something's name. This one's kind of fun.) Ton Nom Dans les feuilles de l'automne, sur l'écorce du érable, dans les lames solitaires de l'herbe, j'écris ton nom. Dans la peau sur les dos du bétail, dans le miel collant de la ruche d'une abeille, entre une daine et son faon de nourrisson, j'écris ton nom. Dans les mortiers de l'acier fondu, sur les dents des dicatators affamés, avec le stylo bille de l'humanité, j'écris ton nom. Sur les corps des paysans noyés, dans le sang d'million de coeurs saignants, sous la gorge utopique que nous essayons d'obtenir, j'écris ton nom. "Progrès." *** (I tried to write a poem about being bored senseless. Then I realized I was late for class and just abandoned it while thinking "Hollow rope? What the hell does that mean?") "Boredome" An hour before the next begins Another see it gone? Ablend between the forest green an artificer's masterpiece of leaves, of bark of mellow/stark of life not lived in truer soil I listen, me, I hear the toil That wrestles knight to pawn An hour before the next begins Another see it gone! The bell confounds my stomping-grounds secretion through the letter And drip And drip Your looser weather feather by miserable feather By mast, aloof, the sails be strung That speak in all convulsive tongue By spit, (word "forsaken" scribbled out) the fluid writer's hung On noose of hollow rope *** (no title. Just a strange little quatrain I found in my Environmental Bio binder. Probably about God, but honestly I can't remember.) Indulge thy sense to draw it in The sculptor of our scars By we, whose hands incite the sin Whose feet connect the stars |
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Janet Marie Member Laureate
since 2000-01-22
Posts 18554 |
Beg????? MothyMOI?????? Naahhhhh ... moths dont beg..they genuflect  rofl ....I JUST LOOOOOVVVVVEEEE GETTING ME MOTHY WAY  I'll be back in a bit...want to inhale these properly thanks for endulging me bug boyyyeeee  Moths dont care if the flame is real |
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Janet Marie Member Laureate
since 2000-01-22
Posts 18554 |
Like a bad rash...Im BAAAAACK hehChildren so noble, the sporelings of sin Singing their scorn to the shadow that flies Skipping so outward but strangled within Nothing to lighten the pins from our eyes ================== whoa...deep deep... those first two lines are soooo cool... this begs to be used in future masterpieces. shadows of the sky chant ===================== how cool is that line and image..so surreal keep this one in mind for future rhymes divine. *S* quote: primitive? nope...and as much as we hate going back and reading our earlier stuff..its a good tool to measure our growth and see our muses strengths and foundations as well...look at all the imagery and symbolism so evident in this piece... your work has greatly matured but thankfully hasnt outgrown your style. Dans les feuilles de l'automne, sur l'écorce du érable, dans les lames solitaires de l'herbe, j'écris ton nom. speak english baby...ENGLISH!! the moth aint biwingual I dont have a clue what this says..but it sure sounds good. *L* Ablend between the forest green an artificer's masterpiece of leaves, of bark of mellow/stark of life not lived in truer soil I listen, me, I hear the toil That wrestles knight to pawn An hour before the next begins Another see it gone! The bell confounds my stomping-grounds secretion through the letter And drip And drip Your looser weather feather by miserable feather By mast, aloof, the sails be strung That speak in all convulsive tongue By spit, (word "forsaken" scribbled out) the fluid writer's hung On noose of hollow rope ====================== rhymes divine--late for class??? seems like a fair trade to me Hollow rope? WAAAAAAY COOL Indulge thy sense to draw it in The sculptor of our scars By we, whose hands incite the sin Whose feet connect the stars =================================== If you dont use this piece of poetry in motion..the moth will haunt you forever more that verse must be given wings to fly. I thank thee on genuflect knee for spoiling me with thy scraps of poetry. I swear upon my muse's meager pen ... never to use wouldst or couldst again. ROFL I owed ya  thanks Bri-guy. Moths dont care if the flame is real |
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bsquirrel
since 2000-01-03
Posts 7855 |
When I read "Ton Nom" I couldn't get the Beatles' "You Know My Name (Look Up the Number)" out of my head. Progress, indeed.  I liked these scraps. They felt equally tossed-off and lived in, and afforded me a glimpse of you in the raw, without all the clothing and shields that measured structure brings. Did that make one cent of sense? In other words: Loved 'em for what they are and what they aren't. .m. |
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LoveBug
Moderator
Member Elite
since 2000-01-08
Posts 4697 |
*looks at the French* EWW, Canadian poetry! But Brian scraps.. should have known they wouldn't be anything less that what his stingy self chooses to post. "Sunshine is mystery, warmth is a dream All in the distance of galaxies far Slowly, their voices rise high in a scream O what vainglorious beings we are" That is my favorate stanza of any of them, I must say. All of these pieces have great talent shining through them, however. Just can the French, ok? Peace I leave with you, My peace I give unto you: not as the world giveth, give I unto you.--Jesus Christ |
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