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post-modern dreams of a half-filled cup
| Teen Poetry #7 |
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post-modern dreams of a half-filled cup |
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MexicoCityBlues Junior Member
since 2004-01-04
Posts 48The Point of Know Return |
I Where'd it go? What? The Sun......... She told me I could confront the world Thru another’s eyes I love this dream I’ve come to realize Yet I hate this love contradicting hate contradicting love contradicting hate contradicting love contradicting hate contradicting love contradicting hate contradicting love I hate this dream I’ve come to realize Dream Machine “who called this dead to dance?” The spirit of a GOD Hard as a Rock will roll What do I say to a GOD? The World? "the cracks in The Wall, sir, obviously infested infected contorted like wild hair freezing. thawing. balling." The hipster barks I say to you all I’m sick of this love contradicting hate contradicting love contradicting hate contradicting love contradicting hate contradicting love contradicting hate contradicting love Tell me now people of the mind What is electric? electric? electric? poetry of some sort I am the king of the Board Counterculture America Magician of silhouetted words hung by home on the line and free. Help me to teach myself Help me to write, Newfound God of Side, Help me to guide my pen Help me to see II confrontation, Earth Wanderer, Have you seen where time began? Have you preached your sermon dead to the idiot body of Man? What is pain, elder? I want to experience love without pain LIFE without pain (Wanderer, Keep me sane) We all do. but live with the pain brings us closer to Self What is poetry? Electric of some sort; poetry is an out-of-body experience flofloating above auras and the dawn. poetry is to balance on a ball, to fall is to succeed the rules of the pen are different here But the virgin guitar sits in the corner of the room please explain its reason for treason poetry? it waits… ........… ........… as you do, child, Son of the Sun, for words; the guitar waits for a message from GOD today moans tomorrow A-B-C-D-E-F-G notes in the form of spontaneous prose? Musical code of the talented? HELP ME TO UNDERSTAND THE TREES AM I THERE? not yet, more of a movement, child the strings must cry freely freely echo within. the child’s brain mine? precisely and that of another and that of another and that of another and that of another to cry is to scream to write is to scream LOVELOVELOVE a poetic movement may you live love and fortune come with me iii let me show to you, child, lost brother of Poseidon, poetry WE ARE THE ship on an ENDLESS SEA OF DHARMA III I cant see my hands toes… modern-day visionary does not need sight. the poet can feel warmth with the mind (a fire blazing within a young man’s chest,) Blacker than charcoal blind is numb…………………………….. normal? always refer to the leaves we hear there Am I blind to passion? I I I patience, nation’s youthful face panic needs time and space loose fogwinds of spirit can be found. just refer to the leaves refer to the wind but be mindful of the ground Visions of Streams A forest… blessed with subtlety vast and purer than the barren sky I see- you do not see… this, Young Of Ridden Destroyer is the Orchard of Thoughts where where the Garden of Eden roams and the fate of society lies. pick a memory off a tree old old old green? quiet let it roll off the tongue of the pen sense a strange rumble of fingers this, child, is poetry farewell lost within the mind how many times before? but i can feel texas convulsing in the south and i can hear feel her voice burning through chants of dying guitars scream scream scream dream dream dream music musak musique LOVELOVELOVE IV Light; a door? Kerouac waving from the other side Contemplating life in the American Night GOD? Wander of Earth, Open Road, Purple Skies? GOD? "Sorry, Death awaits eternity." Door closes Chorus scream scream scream Entity is of the essence Bring me back home from this Dream World: golden plated streets of Chicago speckled with BLACKites? dream world? She left me with post-modern dreams of a half-filled cup and this this this towering vision of passion and pattern can she be......? Dream Machine Society is war of inner struggle. poems fly by I am scared I am scared Still can’t see the Sun scream scream scream save me Dream Machine GOD drinks his tea |
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lovejunkie Member
since 2003-12-31
Posts 93Indiana |
I've always had my eye on you. You're meant for great things. The Genius lives in you. You're wise beyond your years and no one can say any differently. -Steph |
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muchos Member
since 2003-11-29
Posts 102 |
that was totally awesome. completely intense. i enjoyed this a lot. and its not a basic poem that people generally stereotype. i love your style and the words of it are beautiful. i enjoyed this poem a lot. great work. keep it up!!!!!!!!!!! |
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