Styx' Poetry Thread

Discussion in 'Archives' started by Styx, Sep 26, 2008.

  1. Roxas&Sora4E Traverse Town Homebody

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    Female
    Location:
    Does it matter. Stalker.
    19
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    I really liked that one! ↑↑↑↑
    If only people cared...-_-
    Loved it! Good job! <3
     
  2. Styx That's me inside your head.

    Joined:
    Sep 16, 2008
    319
    Reach

    What measure is one's self
    As opposed to everyone else?

    Such a vice, the need to suffice
    Let alone the need to overthrow
    The hangar springs to life for you to greet
    The Blade, The Weapon
    The point to the wicked counterpoint
    A tranquil fury, a verbal massacre
    I write, I write by candlelight
    Wicked scowls guide my vowels
    I write, I write but all is trite

    And your sprint to truth will erode my treshold
    While I stiffen, beguiled by hurt
    Reach, breach and bitterly teach:
    The pattern demands one more overhaul
    At least...

    At least you went the Distance
    The Distance why we breathe
    The same Distance I can't go
    I go far though, too far if I must
    But never there, so never far enough


    Your claws swim closer to the Distance
    Tearing through my crippled resistance
    In my chest grow blasphemous tongues
    That drool sick honor in my lungs
    Nipping every bud of function:
    Innards crushed to a putrid unction
    One is left intact to break
    At some other time, some other mistake
    The organ that pumps no blood but blame
    A h***t unworthy of the name
    Your claws swim closer to the Distance
    Their nails pointing to its existence

    Here I stand, a husk of a man
    I am once again (b)reached
    Lost the screw that held this machine together
    Hearing its beat trail off in the Distance
    In and out and in and out
    And in and in and in and in...


    Comment: Newest addition to my poems. About one who's pride is being shattered by their own mistakes. I don't like this piece much.
     
  3. Styx That's me inside your head.

    Joined:
    Sep 16, 2008
    319
    X Days Left

    This leaf is not coping well,
    Despite seeing spring turn to summer.
    The shift makes fate look all the dumber:
    Stubbornly reviving a verdant shell
    Around a single person's hell.
    This leaf dies young, what a bummer...

    Should I struggle or undergo it all?
    This visible loss of reason,
    This visceral change in season...
    Bleak skies should foreshadow fall,
    My fall...
    But outside summer skies are still a teasin'.

    But this leaf still has places to go,
    Even if leaves are of impact devoid.
    In my recent nightmares I have seen
    A destiny I wish to avoid:
    To turn rotten before passing green,
    To shrivel before my chance to grow.

    Don't ask this sore leaf why or how
    But the weather means so little now.
    I just ask for all the seconds I can get.
    Wind be still, be still as death
    I hear your whistle and beg your breath
    Not to scrape me off this tree just yet


    Comment: This was a past poetry contest entry here. This is one of my poems that are easier to understand. It is about someone who is terminally ill but fights for his life regardless. I hope you like it.
     
  4. Styx That's me inside your head.

    Joined:
    Sep 16, 2008
    319
    It's Poetry Day, and since I haven't written anything new for it, you'll have to make do with this (assuming that I have any readers left at all).

    Amber Jazz

    There's one club in town that's never lonely
    A secret that everyone has heard
    The table's ready for just the two of us
    Me and little Hummingbird
    Things are going rather groovy

    Every couple has its song
    And while I don't think ours is the best
    I try not to listen to the others
    Why would I care for people who are not her?
    For music that's not our amber jazz

    Drunk on compliments, we stylize our love
    Make room for personal tics
    All the pairs have turned to their tables
    And all tables have turned to copper
    Her lips track the verses nearing

    This is a warm kind of darkness
    We discover each other with every note
    I know where she'd hide if she were lost
    In this club, in this song
    In this world without words

    My Hummingbird looks as if she's dreaming
    Catching every spore of a sensitive sunrise
    Passion bedded by the musician's dreary schemes
    Weep for the world
    But savor eachother


    Comment: Romantic poems were never my forte, but I can live with this one. Thoughts?
     
  5. LARiA Twilight Town Denizen

    Joined:
    Feb 12, 2011
    Location:
    The Café Musain
    318
    285
    Your poetry is refreshingly youthful. And I realise, you might scoff at that, maybe youthful is not the word I mean for? It is... it is honest, genuine, and you can ask of no more from a poet. Yes, you've still readers left. I like X Days Left.

    Unintentional rhymes.

    You don't try to be pretentious, I think. And so many try to. It is refreshing, yes.
     
  6. Styx That's me inside your head.

    Joined:
    Sep 16, 2008
    319
    I have these on my dA account so I might as well post them here.

    Neck Eater

    My memories screech ever louder
    As you infest this room of skin
    I let you nail my hands to the walls
    Lest they close in on both of us

    The life was vamped right out of me
    You enticed behind stained windows
    Until a crack fondled its surface
    And I blew the glass shards in your face


    The neck eater disgorges stolen flesh
    That once complied for the need of love
    A woman's tears, a claw finger's beckon
    If I could refuse, I would have done so

    I thrust myself into denial
    Finding you ankle-deep in lonely blood
    The praying mantis prays no more
    What is it that you worshipped anyway?

    Faintly I detect a maiden's hymn
    Incanting all my oaths she heeds
    But let no joyful voice be heard:
    For I am intruded once again

    "Infest me no longer!", I command
    The preying mantis preyed too oft'
    But I dare cry as it shrivels into
    Vermin that begs the hand for mercy


    Comment: Older piece, written in 2008 or 2009, I don't know.

    ===

    Cloud-Covered Moon

    A once cloud-covered moon is now exposed
    Ominously looming fairness
    As an angel's face stamped in loneliness
    Handlessly groping to retrieve its shawl
    To blanket the agony of its aching craters
    The fog that left it is a vacant mind
    Succumbed to the tyranny of liberty
    Haunting its way to directions remembered
    But having lost the light that made it worthwhile

    For the better, they thought


    Comment: Break-up poem. This is newer, but not written today. Hope you like it. Comments are greatly appreciated as always.
     
  7. Styx That's me inside your head.

    Joined:
    Sep 16, 2008
    319
    Knit In The Rhythm

    She’s a cyclone of invisible fingerprints
    Dazzling through, being the finest example of motion.
    Shipping sensuality limb from limb:
    Sentiment’s children on the playground of completeness.

    An aurora of darklit skin knit in the rhythm.
    She deciphers every encrypted beat,
    As a gentle flail, a contagious trance.

    Have mercy on them, have mercy on us.
    But deliver your message and thrive.
    I’ll move aside.


    Comment: Some girls are just sexier than sex when they dance.

    ~

    Fer-de-Lance

    I need this venom: to be loved.
    Shall I do what needs be done?
    Into your will my fangs then shoved.
    I need this venom to be loved:
    Snakebite lies in charity gloved .
    To truly relish what I’ve won
    I need this venom. To be loved
    shall I do what needs be done.


    Comment: My attempt at a triolet. A fer-de-lance is an aggressive poisonous snake.

    ~

    Maelstrom Of Mass

    Some say justice is vacating this world, but I disagree. What mankind really lacks is grace. Good and evil are both abundant here, but they are practiced with the same crudeness. A sin may be forgiven but never overwritten, nor can a selfless act. And thus we become cesspools of heterogenous fact: Chaos.

    “Too much mass, not enough volume.â€
    The inevitable technocratic deduction.
    When heaven and hell are overcrowded,
    They both lose their meaning.
    And who here can say with a straight face
    That they are not contributing to the problem?

    And yet we persist.
    Because we have dreams, we destroy the reality
    That permits us to have them.
    Perhaps some rights should expire upon claiming them.
    Perhaps society just should be that unfair.

    Work shifts, fall in love;
    Have children for all I care.
    Teach them to aim high,
    And to judge a man by his actions.
    Just know that nothing you do is ever innocent.


    Comment: Written on an insomniac whim some days ago. The spiteful tone may well be proof of that.
     
  8. Styx That's me inside your head.

    Joined:
    Sep 16, 2008
    319
    Road To Nowhere

    Dead men tell no tales, but if they did,
    they would revolve around this place:
    a canyon shaped like a demon's grin,
    a rock-solid brown embrace.

    Every thud of the hooves I command
    seems to stir another curse.
    To me and my only friend, I'm sure,
    this crag will be our hearse.

    Arid heat scorches and fries my noggin'
    but my sins flicker all the clearer.
    Why is it that I think of her
    while my doom is sprinting nearer?

    A tavern wench rife with youthful folly,
    who shot winks like twinkling rays.
    My personal gold rush finished, convinced
    to spend with her the rest of my days.

    But the vastness of the west still impressed
    me more than a woman possibly could.
    I saddled my partner in the canvas of the night,
    escaped my barless prison for good.

    I'm certain she cursed my unborn son
    since then, from the minute that she bore him.
    "Men and women will despise him alike,
    but bullets will adore him."

    I knew not where to look or turn
    when guilt is my opponent.
    Hence I follow the road to nowhere
    hoping to lead me to atonement.

    Indeed, drifting isn't what it ought to be.
    Freedom is but a term, no more.
    I sense various twitches underneath me:
    my companion's legs are sore.

    "I'm sorry, loyal friend", I say
    "I'll walk with you on foot."
    Though he still quakes as if hit by bolts,
    kneels in the desert's burning soot.

    Exhaustion legible on his face,
    his neighing reduced to a feeble tone.
    With a heavy stomach I understand:
    from this point on I roam alone.

    At least the sands of the wastes are courteous
    to shield me from the tragedy behind.
    Perhaps I should have stayed with him:
    What is it that I have left to find?

    Remorse beats me, batters and harasses me
    This raging sandstorm has woes to sell.
    These doomed joints click into place
    for one more leap into farewell.

    The images of everyone I ever wronged,
    like ghouls they enter my throat and choke me.
    But it's not my love, son or deceased comrade
    'Tis I and I alone who broke me.


    Comment: Wrote this for a poetry challenge somewhere a while ago. Had trouble meeting the deadline, which hasn't given me the best. I've written better.
     
  9. Styx That's me inside your head.

    Joined:
    Sep 16, 2008
    319
    When I Woke Up I Realised That I Have Nothing To Dream About

    From digitalization
    To material again
    I am awake
    Enhanced, recharged
    Just don't expect me
    To feel better

    My life comes in
    Many versions
    And all of them are dull
    These streets have
    Many shops but
    Inspiration's not for sale

    This city features
    Apartments galore
    Obelisks of gray
    Flatten with their shadow
    I am crushed
    In this killer metropolis

    Me and the city keep
    Dragging eachother
    Through countless mornings
    Disintegrating
    Having
    Break fast for two

    Comment: I wrote this one quite a while ago, and wanted this to have an "urban" feel. Please excuse the long title.
     
  10. Technic☆Kitty User Is Inactive

    Joined:
    Apr 2, 2010
    Gender:
    Male
    Location:
    Indiana, USA
    1,298
    It's abstract, yet you do get your point across about it feeling "urban" It seemed to flow quite easily. All in all, I liked it ^_^
     
  11. Styx That's me inside your head.

    Joined:
    Sep 16, 2008
    319
    I. Yesteryear’s Cradle
    Interlude: Eons Pass
    II. One Skip From Eden
    III. Boundaries
    IV. Violet-Eyed Monsters
    Interlude: Healing Factor
    V. Lonely Blue Pearl

    Yesteryear’s Cradle

    It could have been the breath of the One
    Or maybe it were the wiles of none
    The day that birthed days

    Snap the light, like a twig,
    And make a spectrum spark
    Creation is an aggressive event
    Having more time and space than it knows what to do with
    A feast ensues

    The elementals waltz with one another
    Soon they’ll all be kings and queens
    Sprinkling gems across the expanse

    Soon…

    Eons Pass

    Life is gushing growth
    More than the sum of its parts
    One Skip From Eden

    True
    Rapture
    Lush and pure
    “See who we are
    We are the essence”
    All in its rightful place
    A sudden wind blows diff’rence
    The established vigour startled
    Cautiously welcomes a pompous thud
    A foot of a new creature known as Man

    Boundaries

    Choosing matter over mind
    Has me wondering every time
    If there’s nothing more to find.

    Understanding from start to finish;
    It has me glinting through my limits,
    Probably being good for business.

    I’m striving for an end of daze
    When my fingers split the drapes
    And marvel at what’s outside the cage.

    Boundaries subside before me
    As bittersweet chapters in my story,
    But to the victor goes the glory.

    Choosing mind over matter
    Turned me deaf to idle chatter,
    Absorbing ambition all the faster.

    I swear to have the present sutured
    To its trophy wife named future.
    I’ll craft the jewelry that will suit her.

    To cut the edges like a razor,
    To preserve the welfare of our races:
    That’s why pencils have erasers.

    Violet-Eyed Monsters

    This is love, else we wouldn’t have bothered
    A thirst for your splendor’s secrets, for a clue
    Having our talons tilt the balance
    Devastation just to gaze upon you

    On solid ground our wonders dwindle
    So on the firmament we’ll lean
    Working to soon become immune
    To the inadequacy vaccine.

    Constrictingly thin
    Fittingly slick
    My conscience is feeble and
    The choice not chosen
    Is a harsh mistress.

    There is a heat that will bribe this glass
    To a humbled puddle it will be melting
    The atmosphere we once held dear
    Shall be in dire need of welting.

    I tell the others horrific tales
    Of being just one card in an endless deck.
    I instill fear and hate by being afraid:
    I am the cobra’s neck.

    Beads of a new greed gleam their violet evil
    As we rip the veil off the heavenly bride
    Assumin’ we are therefore human:
    One part self-loathing, an equal part pride.

    This is love, else we wouldn’t have bothered…?

    Folly’s thunder strikes in cycles.
    By the next round I’m sure we will
    Think that he who’s throned on a mount of bones
    Is somehow still king of the hill.



    Through our parallel carcasses we swear:
    We’ll once again be with you.
    Your ribcage grin will transform in-
    -to a hair of the dogs that bit you.

    Healing Factor

    Eons are passing
    Oh, the time this takes to mend
    Forming boundaries

    Lonely Blue Pearl

    She was overcome

    Hues and shapes draw closer
    Resilient remnants checking back in
    They, too, are no longer units
    No longer science
    They embrace the ravished matter
    Work the magic of an untold compassion

    Are you prepared, milady?
    Ready for another round of all-encompassing irrelevance?
    Ready for a torrent of headbutting dualities?
    Shall I bring the guests then?
    This survivor, she accepts
    This demiurge, she is ready

    She has overcome
    (Quiet applause)
    A momentum of matter
    A phoenix made of stars
    In chlorophyll necklaced and beshawled
    Feeling a billion of yesteryears cradle


    Comment: Behold! My magnum opus. Seven poems, one story. CAN YOU HANDLE THIS?!
     
  12. Styx That's me inside your head.

    Joined:
    Sep 16, 2008
    319
    The Ones That Squirm

    What lies on that yonder hill?
    I've heard it's a land with statues of mud
    Where they kneel for black clouds
    And eat bread made of dust

    Shadows of dirt and scarcity
    Slide across poisonous snakes
    Begging not to be bitten
    But being bitten nonetheless

    Once a haven of exhaustion
    There is nothing left to overuse
    A cure for a disease they didn't have
    Turned into a disease that has no cure

    And we sit upon our silver towers
    Celebrate the messenger Guilt
    For he tells us to turn our backs
    And turning our backs we will

    Comment: Old piece.

    ===

    Killswitch

    There are tales to tell
    As implied by clenched teetch yellowed by silence and disbelief
    Sightings of well-dressed men feeding cough drops down a shaft
    To ascertain that the dust remains in place

    A brave intruder wandered into this oblivion
    Shedding their flashlight on prototypes of the apocalypse
    And even though his rope home was hatcheted
    Undead arms clawed their way to the surface…to live the hermit’s life
    Curiosity had broken the cat

    Therefore I say we detonate, become the dreaded emergency
    The belly of the ghast monster that had swallowed the bomb
    Will explode into a treasure trove of booming truth
    Our feet and fingers held upon the tissue flakes to keep them from re-fusing
    There are tales to tell, and we want to hear them

    Comment: New piece. Do you see an evolution?
     
  13. Styx That's me inside your head.

    Joined:
    Sep 16, 2008
    319
    I Refuse

    The body is an observable nothing
    With all its fleshy limiters
    Arrogantly deemed irrefutable
    How dare it pulse me into shirking
    When I’m only halfway there

    I’ll go beyond my inept self
    Incinerate the schedule’s paper brakes
    For if you can be defined in numbers
    Then it’s time to lose count
    I will not be a sum of parameters
    No matter how much truth they hold

    One more lap of addictive torture

    The naked verdict, seasoned in the salt of sweat
    Is that I am still organic weakness
    But within it gnashes an ache betraying
    That I prevailed nonetheless

    Comment: My new mantra for running laps.
     
  14. Styx That's me inside your head.

    Joined:
    Sep 16, 2008
    319
    Wings Like Daggers

    This falcon circles ‘round a shoulder
    He’s no longer allowed to claim.
    I tire myself out twirling, mesmerized
    By a target that used to be more than just that.

    Bless the carnage you left, little one…

    I pluck myself, I hunt myself, I’ll
    Do the damnedest just to keep busy.
    I keep myself in the dark where there is less to fear,
    Obsessing over togetherness,
    Crying bitter tears over the corpse of sanity
    Even though we were never close.
    Would that I could spread these wings
    To anywhere but here.
    Alas, I’m still blocked by this monstrous cage:
    (This ribcage housing guts of little value)
    My daggers are deflected until
    Gashes laugh their red regret.

    Can’t I do this one thing right?
    The time I waste…
    Am I too sore to soar?
    The life I drink…
    I’m molting without hope of new feathers

    Can you forgive this battered bird?
    Hissing, roaring, producing
    Sounds not entirely his own.
    Wheezes scram from his blunted beak.
    Encapsulated and stricken is he, by paradoxal metal:
    The freedom he desires,
    He desires not to need.
    Not being able to leave
    Without knowing he’d be missed.
     
  15. Styx That's me inside your head.

    Joined:
    Sep 16, 2008
    319
    The Receding Wave

    Here I stand, atop a desolate coast
    I cut my toes on coin and pressing matters
    Twisting and whirling like sand in the air
    Pocketsful of folly is what I lay bare
    An offering to a foaming ghost
    They are dragged to its depths as part of me shatters

    I considered a dip, but a furtive dive
    Would see me swallowed, keeled by the tide
    Caught by an onslaught of youthful energy
    And beckoning memories, but eventually
    Mockery aplenty for the way I behave

    No, I could slash the surface to bitter tears
    Only to never find the years
    Stolen by this receding wave

    ~

    Beasts That Build

    Civilization’s pillars are the hairy legs
    Of a creature whose drool congeals
    To glass, concrete and steel
    Even in denial it fights tooth and nail

    We strive for saint or settle for sinner
    Never content that we’re already halfway
    We fear the pleasures we can receive
    The highs we can achieve
    And construct our way around them
    Bricks and bolts and stories and pills
    Permitted indulgence though the veil is thin

    For what is order but chaos frozen in place?
    Sometimes we even leak:
    The thaw is always but a threshold away.
    Our arenas, carved in wood, layered in law
    A limbo for the feral, and a reminder
    To keep natural selection caged.

    And what is trade then, but ravenous?
    Buy, sell, hoard, feast, starve
    Grow or be outgrown
    The system is ever vicious
    But the prospect of coming out on top
    Has stayed our hand in casting it down

    We are the beasts that build
    Clever architects
    Yet slaves to our senses still