Poetry

[TBatcho07]

Here are some poems I wrote about my ex ...always fun...I doubt anyone will actually read these..but if you would be kind enough..let me know what you think..I have TONS more...PLEASE share yours as well!!!


All Memories Drown With Time

You are nothing but a memory now
But you won't last forever
Just like my dreams..
You will die eventually
I once awoke with a smile on my face
Now I stay in bed, hidden beneath the sheets
These sheets resemble all I've lost
With each layer, adds more weight to this burden.
Yet I hide like a coward
But like I said before
You are only a memory now
And with this coming storm
I'll wash you away
I want front row seats to the fear in your eyes
When you see me next time
Broken halo dripping with shame
I will be your unsuspected end
Like Noah, I am building an ark.
But I'd much rather watch you drown


Ocean of Regret


These nights seem to last forever
Cold and filled with regret
Take my hand as I jump ship
Abandon this so called home
I’ll carry you while I can
So long as you can swim
Baby, the water is cold
So I’ll keep you close
Hours have passed
Daylight and warmth bid us farewell
I can barely breathe
It’s down to me and you
The water will soon separate us
I have no intention of fighting it
Enjoy the swim
I’ll see you when I get home.




That One Day

Time has become a neglected addiction
A long night now awaiting a tired soul
They say sleep is for the weak
But I’ve been awake far too long
The day was mine from the start
No clouds invaded my sky blue
The prison I often visited
Walls had been removed
Engaged in general chatter
Soft spoken memories
Still no clouds in sight
Only the approaching serenity
On that day something changed
A long awaited sedation set in
My heart wrote in cursive
My mind spoke in pidgin
You were my turning point
The declivitous to my uphill struggle
A bridge connecting our vibrant yet ruined worlds
Time has altered this fog infested path I travel
My faith is abandoning me in my darkest hour
I’m losing the fight I swore to overcome
Twice I have felt cold hands
So much for double jeopardy
The three words you speak in English
Sound like the lingo of the deceivers
This tailspin you have me in
Will not reach ground level.




An Unfinished Serenade

As daylight fades
So do we
Our only purpose is this…
An unfinished serenade
Fill in the blanks I left
With your lie’s
After all,
That’s all you’re good for
As this song nears its end
Part of me die’s
As this song nears its end
Part of you die’s
Finally, no blank spots left
Now we can reflect on our past
We overcame many obstacles
But in the end, you failed the test.
Fill in the blanks I left
With your lie’s
After all,
That’s how you were raised
Fill in the blanks I left
With your lie’s
As this song nears its end
Part of me die’s
As this song nears its end
Part of you die’s
Fill in the blanks I left
With your lie’s
Fill in the blanks I left
Finally, no blank spots left
Now I may rest in peace
For the serenade is no more
And neither are you.



all associated poetry or other intellectual properties are the sole ownership of Ross Kucera, copyright 2008. Edited July 7, 2008 by TBatcho07

[TBatcho07]

Oh cmon >_<...someone else on this forum has to write poetry lol

[Johnny_D]

There once was a man from nantucket.........

[TBatcho07]

BOOOO

[Giant Ninja Robot]

I haven't written in a while but if i find some old stuff i'll post it later tonight.

[Apoc Genesis]

Suburbian Nights

We once lived on an open plain
With seas of grass swishinvg by
We filled our homes with simple things
In plain small home in clear blyue skies

But then we dreamed of red brick houses
Laid neat and tight on that patch of lands
Where picket fences grew with the grass
And shrubs cut gently by out hands

We dreamed of cars, so bright and strong
That boasted pure industrial might
That stood for proud America
Forever using might for right

Now fifty years of dreaming done
And tales of woe begin to show
That from these clean grown suburb dreams
Our greatest fears begin to grow

[Big Boss]

Nights into Dreams

Let's spark that **** ******

while having conversations with the ocean

in dark rooms where infinity exists

You sit on your bean-bag

amidst black lights

Queen of the surfer girls

Speak to me in your native tongue

and navigate wisps of Nag Champa

That’s how you roll

Let us create this night

graffiti art

with reckless abandon

and perhaps we can giggle if we like

I love your pretty eyes

your pretty knives

I am my father's son

and you are your mother's daughter

The low hum of vintage turntables

lulls us to sleep at the end of the night

When I wake up you’ll be gone.


Sin una Alma

I imagine burning bonfires and sparkling embers,

and my dreams ascending to someplace better with the smoke.

I imagine that you are here as well so we may

conspire in our dastardly deeds.

Thick as thieves

Green lights in the distance

telling us that we are in fact insane

Maybe we'll see red on the horizon one more time

They called her "El Destructor"

but i knew her as "sin una alma"

because I don't believe in love anymore.

No one to smoke with,

No one to die with.


and my most recent,
90 Words

Looking at your double sided photograph

cause we all feel happy and sad

Feeling blindly and yearning

for understanding

because blue and orange never

seemed so truthful

I cannot escape this sad face

that is painted onto mine

as tears fall down

Looking up and seeing the archaic rays

of sunshine illuminate imagined lives that never were

and hearing your voice

Hearing my reason

explain to my brain

why I don't have a heart

I've got no more lives left to live

I've got no more lies left to live



all associated poetry or other intellectual properties are the sole ownership of Ross Kucera, copyright 2008.

[Speak_In_Vowels]

ill try to find some of my old stuff cause im a lil rusty lol

[derogatory]

untitled

Milk in my bones...

Milkbone

Wedding Vows

I love you
You're pretty
I want to touch your titty

Please be my wifey
and share my lifey

[Kalutika]

Haikus are easy
but sometimes they don't make sense
refrigerator

[Kalutika]

To be completely honest... your poems are very similar to the angst filled writings of a teenager. I've written the same thing, with the same words, with the same message and with all the same adjectives and verbs.

Sorry.

Hell even Shakespeare wrote them.

No longer mourn for me when I am dead
Then you shall hear the surly sullen bell,
Give warning to the world that I am fled
From this vile world with vilest worms to dwell;
Nay, if you read this line, remember not
The hand that writ it; for I love you so,
That I in your sweet thoughts would be forgot,
If thinking on me then should make you woe.
O, if (I say) you look upon this verse,
When I perhaps compounded am with clay,
Do not so much as my poor name rehearse;
But let your love even with my live decay:
Lest the wise world should look into your moan ,
And mock you with me after I am gone.


We all do it. We get over it then look back and feel happy we were able to get our feelings out on paper.

I will try to dig out some of my more recent stuff if I can find it.

[Apoc Genesis]

i think that haikus
do not go well in english
lost in translation

[TBatcho07]

To be completely honest... your poems are very similar to the angst filled writings of a teenager. I've written the same thing, with the same words, with the same message and with all the same adjectives and verbs.

I enjoy writing about the things I do to be honest.It doesn't matter to me if people see them as being childish or angsty.I write about what I go through,and it all just happens to be about shitty relationships lol.

[Big Boss]

You look lonely by the lake, pt 1


Where do we go from here?

I'll never forget the night we met

...that misty night

and getting drunk on the "13th" floor

on Crown Royal and Old Style

and you showing me your tattoos

I couldn't figure out why you always sat by me

Don't forget the poking,

I didn't like that

You were so drunk

and everything was so right

We didn't really know each other and thats what made it so special

By the lake will always be my favorite place

but you and i will never be there again

But maybe... In my dreams...



all associated poetry or other intellectual properties are the sole ownership of Ross Kucera, copyright 2008.

[Giant Ninja Robot]

thread revival

Untitled

He sat in a forest of dreams and revelation

It was a time of meditation, cool earth between warm salty fingers, tilling the soil for the seed of his mind

The time was ripe for the harvest, years of introspection come to fruition

It barged in as hot air from the bellows, a raw-throated blaspheme was thrust into the peace

The birds singing songs now sound silent whispers of doubt, a hush sound

Do not dream just slumber ever wakeful

Lay among the thorns, let them into side and paw

A hole is a house for a mole or a mouse and a gaping chasm deep throats and devours

Peace within a breath long as none shall follow

Buried in a sea of green, muted rusty trumpet

The earth runs hot and red

Buried

[Giant Ninja Robot]

untitled

Could the ink in my veins explain the toiling waters in me turned weak-spirited futility were it splattered in effigy of my carotid explosion?

For want and desire singing "Hear me you Earth, why have you given me such tough and bitter skin?"

It comes in gurgles and spit, a madman's poem, telling of depths and putrid air

Who will listen to the flower selling puppet, dangling beside freeway exit ramps?

"His jaw is unhinged!" they all scream as one and a panicked stampede of warm flesh and bodily fluids surge

"He's the Good!" say a few

"The Bad!" say most

"The Ugly." says the piss soaked jawbone

[Giant Ninja Robot]

untitled

You can take the man out of the night but the night is in my thoughts

I miss her dark embrace cooling my skin, embers for my soul

One more moondance and I know she sees

A man in a million, a man for her

One more rough hewn bone sculpture, another for her flitting gaze

Winking down from between the clouds, does my reflection hold so much?

I am captive to the oldest curse

How the blind wish to see calling "Master, Savior, Heal us!" and the crickets laugh

They know

Their creeks and chirps tell all, a collective smirking conciousness, an omen of the dark

Weakness never overcome, strength never there

It was made of black silk ties covering my eyes now slipping away and I weep

[wilarseny]

As someone studying creative writing, someone who loves poetry, it's great to me to see people turn to writing. Something to think about with this poems: I think it was Wallace Stevens--though I could be wrong on the attribution--who said, "The tangible world is the common denominator of all our intangible worlds". So when you write a poem with a lot of intangible ideas and expressions, it doesn't mean a lot to another reader because those words mean different things to them. In other words, to express complex emotions and ideas it's necessary to find a common denominator, it's necessary to use tangible images and ground yourself in the concrete and specific.

I could talk about this for hours, but I'll keep it short. To anyone else invested in poetry: who are your favorite authors? Out of classic authors for me, it's gotta be Hart Crane, John Berryman or John Ashbery. Contemporary is a whole 'nother long list.

A couple quick poems of my own:
For B.Q.Q., For S.E., For A.S., For M.B.

Question of the ages: what have you been reading lately? Cities suspended in mahogany,

Cities we walked in under a flaming moon, under dripping streetlights—can the beautiful

Be submerged—can an awning protect us from the meteor? I open the book and begin incantations,

Remembering our sailing song, our flailing inconsistencies, and we ascend. I will never know

If your memory matches mine. This is wrong: you unbuckle the chariot and we burn endlessly

Under Promethean garments. Smoke between your toes: ambrosia for the experienced. My weak knees

Will always lock. You will always lie in a bed of aching unfulfilment.

First Time

The opera ends. I stay seated. The peacock:

a dog with feathers glued to his tail. The lions,




Polish women who leave the theater singing,

Its cold outside but did you hear they found




God. When the sun comes down from the wires

a small man steps out of a hatch. He sang




a beautiful disembodied tenor, believing

the world will end soon. The guards don't notice




me and drink behind a zookeeper's cage

that seems whole only when seen straight on.




The owner sweeps the floor. If I leave,

I'll be back tomorrow in another section.




Behind the back curtain two lovers break up

and it really is the first time that's happened.

Sylvia




Your eyes, & did you know

your own tragedy? Fruit was around

in 1959... cool, non? Every New

England moth would rather be

an Italian one. Open the box,

"but only once per decade," shred

the contents or a widower

will do it for you. You are lucky




we've indexed every year of your life

alphabetically, from air-eating

to turning-burning. And you, the world

at your bed, shrinking the whites

of your eyes, worshiping the sun god

at rest between your breasts.

Letter to Self, In Parts




I.




One self to one's self: mercy/mercy. First:

honesty. Then, acknowledgment of insincerity

as distance over time. Please sign here.

One may record one's identity as indefinite

given one is specific as to one's recipient.

One must then cope with the crisis

of not knowing one's own return address. I

have not known mine for years and as a result

all of this correspondence has been lost.




II.




Above the bar and its 100 identical scotches

there is printed: "The Past Perfect Is Anything

But". The stereo is primal. The patrons are primal

and hairy and some have spears. If I offer

to buy them drinks they tell me Sunday is a day

for writing letters. If I sit down to write one

they throw me out the back. As I write this

I am bleeding and may not make it

home to receive my own letter.




III.




If I say I am sincere you will describe a painting

as a veil: raising up, turning before the mirror,

one will say anything to avoid hearing one's own voice.

Is distance self-imposed? The post office loses me,

another tactic, bending to recognition, smiling

under a magnifying glass. If you hear me,

burn this letter upon receiving.

[Giant Ninja Robot]

Will I like your stuff. Never studied poetry by any means and I'll be the first to admit I stray towards the absract quite a bit. Good advice. Sometimes I just feel the need to let it rip.

More often than not the complex idea I have make perfect sence to me and the further I stray from the basic concept that initially comes to me the further away I feel I get from the deep meaning behind the words

Hard to find the balance for me sometimes, since I write for me and not to communicate with others or for the printed page when I'm really in the middle of it.

[roux58]

Drain your batteries
Recharge (if you wish)
walk fool walk
Cannons firingatwill
Red flowers over (the heart)
give your silence
For its all youcando

Got lots..