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Open Poetry #7
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Addressing insects.
| Open Poetry #7 |
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Addressing insects. |
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brian madden Member Elite
since 2000-05-06
Posts 4374ireland 
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I am pagan in mind of skeletal flesh shackled to gluttony's frame. Present with all social ideals, though unbalanced torn from baptismal purity to the world corrupt. For sake of knowledge I have had myself violated, learning only to pillage in emptiness. Kneeing down on torture stone not pray but with pity plead. I need the escape of pleasure without consequence. Beneath the shrouds bury boredom, sleep of agony still I am restless with no clean rooms for morality. My soul screams penance in vain for the AntiChrist resides in man. Hung in the gallows of Church love, shrink as the sins of my life are screened for insects against the shadows of a crucifix. In the murmurs of the sermon my skin creeps as insects crawl between. My exposed flesh shrinks as it is lowered into the scales of sacredness. Worth weighted discloses only vacancy. Kiss the feet of the priest; offer up myself for redemption. Suffocating under the weight of infinite eyes inspecting my very fabric I cry for an end, even condemnation. Before family they hold my trial; a spectacular account of decadence for me, they seem to frown upon the very nature of human existence. The insect thought is a linear machine, void of all worthless distractions of our condition. They exist as a unit marching towards a single focus, They are the perfect servants of religion. I stand as an inadequate in silence at Their mercy for an eternity existing as Their purgatory every second addressing insects. ------------------------ "Isn't it enough to see that a garden is beautiful without having to believe that there are fairies at the bottom of it too? " Douglas Adams. "Here chewing your tail is joy" Richey Edwards |
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Janet Marie Member Laureate
since 2000-01-22
Posts 18554 |
Hung in the gallows of Church love, shrink as the sins of my life are screened for insects against the shadows of a crucifix. In the murmurs of the sermon my skin creeps as insects crawl between. My exposed flesh shrinks as it is lowered into the scales of sacredness. Worth weighted discloses only vacancy. Kiss the feet of the priest; offer up myself for redemption. Suffocating under the weight of infinite eyes inspecting my very fabric I cry for an end, even condemnation. Before family they hold my trial; a spectacular account of decadence for me, they seem to frown upon the very nature of human existence. The insect thought is a linear machine, void of all worthless distractions of our condition. They exist as a unit marching towards a single focus, They are the perfect servants of religion. I stand as an inadequate in silence at Their mercy for an eternity existing as Their purgatory every second addressing insects. ------------------ WHOA!!! hey Brian, dont hold back hon... say what ya really feel.  wow!! as you told me... push the limits, ask the questions, challenge the poet and the reader. once again...you go deep and my head hurts. I think I better get use to it. LOL later poetic prophet jm |
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Nan
Administrator
Member Seraphic
since 1999-05-20
Posts 21191Cape Cod Massachusetts USA |
You're really good, Brian... I'd suggest that if you haven't taken note of H Arlequin's work, that you go out of your way to do so - You'll really enjoy his writing....  |
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Marge Tindal 
since 1999-11-06
Posts 42384Florida's Foreverly Shores |
Brian~ Man, you guys are BUGGING me ! And where's the Balladeer when you need him? On a serious note - Deep, contemplative writing. Probing with quixotic questioning. You have immense talent, my friend. ~*Marge*~ ~*The pen of the poet never runs out of ink, as long as we breathe.*~ noles1@totcon.com |
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Aimster Member Elite
since 2000-02-19
Posts 4297Charlotte, NC |
brian-- wow this was intense and very deep!! i think i need to read it a few more times cuz i read it twice and both times went WOW! this piece is really really good but im kinda tired. think i'll read it when i'm more awake lol.  superb job my friend!amy "Kneeing down on torture stone not pray but with pity plead. I need the escape of pleasure without consequence. Beneath the shrouds bury boredom, sleep of agony still I am restless with no clean rooms for morality. My soul screams penance in vain for the AntiChrist resides in man." Powerful VERY powerful stanza!! ~Live today as though it were your last but prepare for tomorrow as though it were here~ |
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Balladeer
Administrator
Member Empyrean
since 1999-06-05
Posts 25505Ft. Lauderdale, Fl USA |
Brian, if this poem means what I think it means, it is a brilliant poem. If it means something other than I think it does, it is a brilliant poem. |
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brian madden Member Elite
since 2000-05-06
Posts 4374ireland |
Aw thanks Janet, sorry for all the migranes, I promise to be more gentle in future. Thanks Nan, I will look for H Arlequin's poems. Thank you for the suggestion. Love the bug graphics, I could spend all day watching them. Marge,thank you. I am gald you like my poetry. The feeling is very mutual. I know I am in good company on this site. thank you Aimster, Thanks Balladeer, I would love to hear your interruption. Thank you all. < !signature--> ------------------------ "Isn't it enough to see that a garden is beautiful without having to believe that there are fairies at the bottom of it too? " Douglas Adams. Small Black Flowers That Grow In The Sky "You have your very own number They dress your cage in its nature Once you roared now you just grunt lame Pace around pathetic pound games Wanna get out won't miss you sensaround To carry your own dead to swing your tyre tricks Wanna get out here you're bred dead quick For the outside, The small black flowers that grow in the sky They drag sticks along your walls Harvest your ovaries dead mothers crawl Here comes warden, Christ, temple, elder Environment not yours you see through it all Wanna get out won't miss you sensaround To carry your own dead to swing your tyre tricks Wanna get out here you're bred dead quick For the outside, The small black flowers that grow in the sky Here chewing your tail is joy" Richey Edwards [This message has been edited by brian madden (edited 05-22-2000).] |
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insect Senior Member
since 2000-04-22
Posts 1014 |
That's a hell of a poem! I think that maybe they exist to exist. But I am only human despite my name. Pleasurable read. I wonder if they have any emotions in the world they live in? Could they be a growing evolution of some higher existence for their existence, in this expanding free to live in universe? Anyway I admire them. |
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brian madden Member Elite
since 2000-05-06
Posts 4374ireland |
Thank you insect, The poem was not exactly about insects. It was more of a metaphor for religon. I think insects may just be organic machines but in the grand scheme of things so may we. I admire some insects, butterflies especially but I hate flies and wasps. I wonder if they have any emotions in the world they live in? Could they be a growing evolution of some higher existence for their existence, in this expanding free to live in universe. Some very interesting questions and I am tempted to give my answers but this a poetry forum, and I think people here are sick of hearing my thoughts on life LOL. I know I am. All I will say is that insects seem to be at the peek of their evolutionary stage, if they evolved any further we would have real stiff competition. ------------------------ "Isn't it enough to see that a garden is beautiful without having to believe that there are fairies at the bottom of it too? " Douglas Adams. Small Black Flowers That Grow In The Sky "You have your very own number They dress your cage in its nature Once you roared now you just grunt lame Pace around pathetic pound games Wanna get out won't miss you sensaround To carry your own dead to swing your tyre tricks Wanna get out here you're bred dead quick For the outside, The small black flowers that grow in the sky They drag sticks along your walls Harvest your ovaries dead mothers crawl Here comes warden, Christ, temple, elder Environment not yours you see through it all Wanna get out won't miss you sensaround To carry your own dead to swing your tyre tricks Wanna get out here you're bred dead quick For the outside, The small black flowers that grow in the sky Here chewing your tail is joy" Richey Edwards |
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netswan Senior Member
since 2000-03-28
Posts 1369Washington |
Brian this is a masterpiece of poetry art. The subject too profound for me. I do not understand religion and idolation and praying. Do not feel uncomfortable about the peace my soul shall have. Have no belief in superstitions ----and am content with life, allowing people to believe what they want to believe provided they are not hurting others. I find religion a fantastic subject, and cry for those that cannot release the bonds that have made them feel some how sinful, evil - off to hell and that sort of stuff. Makes me sad. Yet, on the other hand on the spiritual side and see people worshipping happily in peace - and reveling in their God and feeling nurtured. I can feel at peace with that, too. Other than putting in my 4 cents worth, I find this poem - very well written, yet agonzing ~netswan |
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