View Full Version : Aodh's Consensus
Truth
there is a truth in the words of aged old men:
the truth is that life is for the living.
there is a truth in the words of aged old women:
the truth is that a life of waste is a life of sin
there is a truth in the words of the youthful boy:
the truth is that we must live in order to experience life
there is a truth in the words of the youthful lady:
the truth is that chastity in more ways than one can bind and can free
the truth in all of this:
every truth is its own and must be viewed,
alone.
AD
There is a simple diff'rence, between your life and mine,
it's not that you are happy, it is that you are fine.
My mind has many issues, some have seemed to last,
they stem from many places, but mostly from my past.
I think there is a term they use, for people much like me,
I think they call them crazy, before they are deceased.
Once they have been taken, into our Father's care,
it seems we call them gifted, troubled, but most of all,
despaired.
(A somewhat recent favorite of mine)
Anibis
12-07-2006, 07:14 PM
It's very lovely actually. I particularly like your first poem. It manages to nagivate the paradox of 'different views from different ages'. Good work.
-Ibisis
feranaja
12-09-2006, 11:52 AM
I appreciate the fact you work with rhyme, too - good stuff Aodh...
style and content...
fera
Frozen
My carcass lay there frozen,
upon the icy ground,
no one heard my screams,
no one heard a sound.
The agony was total,
the pain refused to cease,
my limbs twitched like a fish,
that had been taken from the sea.
The pain wasn't from an arrow,
nor from a firebrand,
it wasn't from a lashing,
nor by somebody's hand,
the pain was from myself,
because I sabotage,
every part of who I am,
all the good in this visage,
so my carcass lay there rigored,
and my heart refused to beat,
and all the while unnoticed,
because no one heard me scream.
Pointless drivel.
It’s often that while I am
Going through the motions
Of daily life’s monotony
That I become startled
By certain erroneous
Thoughts entering my
Mind. These thoughts
Seem so foreign and
Remote yet I know
Deep down that they
Must be my own for
How else would it be
That I am thinking them?
Often these thoughts
Seem to be of a slick
And pervasive nature
That keeps them slivering
Like fiends back into
My Train of Thought.
How is it that I may
Properly destroy them,
That I shall not be further
Plagued by their intrusions?
Should I dissect them like
A piece of game which I
Have come home with
After a long hunt? Or
Should I instead try
To lock them away in
Some background place,
Some deeply secret safe,
And hope that they starve?
Or should I face them,
Like men, and listen to
What it is they have to say?
In my Heart I would rather
Not to do such but in my
Own ordinary thoughts
Sometimes I think that
Perhaps this course of
Action would be best.
Does not a bully flee
From confrontation
More often than not
And likewise these intrusions
Would flee from my
Acceptance of them?
Hopefully I will determine
A course of action soon,
As sometimes I fear that
If not I will soon be driven
Mad.
D.C.D. or, How I Broke The Bank.
An earthy scent blows upon the ground,
dully reminiscent of field mushrooms and rot.
As the Forest Troll stomps her way through the lands,
ravaging each locale which highlights her many flaws.
There is no peace for her, no solace.
So alone in her world of delusions and hate,
the Troll tries to devour the happiness of others;
it is of no use.
Her lies and riddles do not stand upon the Earth
and she sinks hopelessly down with them.
http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v634/Feroxyhite/Sigils/DCD.jpg
NOTE: Any reference to real Forest Trolls is purely coincidental and is meant to be strictly an expression of artistic and creative output.
Battered Wife, Lost Her Life, Made Up Her Mind To Stay.
And you know that she will trust you,
that's why you hurt her so,
for every word you say?
She'd break a thousand bones.
You know that she won't question,
she'll do it right away.
She never, ever wonders how
(you took her rights away).
She'd break a thousand bones,
she'd do it just for you.
She'll never ever cry
(over your blatant misuse).
You took her rights away,
you tossed away the key.
Her life has since decayed
(you spoilt all the cream).
Over your blatant misuse,
she'll never raise her voice.
She'll never blame your hand,
she gave away her choice.
Blatantly kind and caring
Rough when you need to be
Intelligent and driven in every way
And keeping your life full of good things.
Never going to be the same, now that I've met you.
Had A Date, It Was Great, Kept My Faith, Cuz He Was Safe.
and you know he'll never hurt you,
that's why you trust him so,
you mean more than plenty to him,
(more than just a moan).
he calls you several times a day,
several days out of the week,
but that's just fine because you like it,
(it never makes you weep).
more than just a moan,
you need that much at least,
you replied to his little question,
(being playful, coy, and pleased).
it never makes you weep,
your heart never has to bend,
so maybe he's a good one,
(a real one, not pretend).
being playful, coy, and pleased,
you said just what you meant,
who would've thought it'd fill you with glee,
(to be less happy, more content).
How is living, ain't it grand?
It goes quite nicely,
(if unplanned)
The day was lovely,
had no sex, it wasn't lonely,
(in most respects)
I spent some time walking the streets,
met some new folks,
(kissed their cheeks)
Spoke to Loki, through the mirror,
saw my face shift,
(not cuz of fear)
I'll be changing some things,
you just might see,
returning to the Old Ways,
(to the Sea.)
The Mirror is Broken and I've Stepped Through
The Mirror is broken,
I step't right on through,
I traipsed the dreary landscape,
and shortly I met you.
The local was quite disturbing,
a frightening expanse,
the sky seemed as if it were burning,
the ground made up of hands.
You whispered backwards to me,
in some lost and ancient tongue,
and yet I knew the words you spoke,
those words that meant so much.
I came here for the party,
you knew someday I would,
so you'd been waiting for me,
'till I'd show up and make good.
And so we stand here waiting,
under the brimstone night,
and the ground has gone to quaking,
the hands all so alive!
and as I listen to you,
as you speak in many tongues,
I know I'm home now finally,
in Hell, where it all begun.
Memories
There is feeling to this room,
a penetrating silence.
It is vacant.
No laughter, no whispers,
no tears, no gasps.
Nothing.
We left that room, days ago;
we left it for a new home.
A place where there are no more stains,
no more burns in the carpet,
no more memories.
We have left the room,
left it just as everything which occurred there has left us.
Empty.
Respite
Feel me
Underneath
Clenching my teeth
Knowing what I need.
Make me
Edge around.
Help me not to
Ache.
Relieve me of this
Day.
Retrospective On the Summer of 2006
The forecasts have gone dreary,
for the next couple of days,
the Weatherman's confusion,
has left me in a daze.
The Med Student is missing,
he's looking for a corpse,
I guess I'm not too useful,
and I treat him far too coarse.
The Band Major still wants me,
but he just will not ever be my type,
he's far, far, far too happy,
and all he wants is my outside.
The Bohemian is dating,
Big Red and him are fine,
he doesn't need another order,
of nicely sculpted thighs.
The First Love is off rutting,
she's pregnant once again,
maybe this time it'll be pretty,
instead of like the last one, ugly as sin.
The Roommate thinks I'm boring,
he doesn't like my speech,
it makes him tired everytime,
so all he does is sleep.
The Giggly Woman's tired,
she's tired of my mouth,
it's much too foul for her taste,
and my writing's far too South.
My Dearest Friend has left me,
She thinks I'm just an ass,
My tongue is far too piercing,
she left me for the Grass.
The Doctor has been giving me,
all sorts of brand-new pills,
I take them when I feel like it,
I have too many ills.
My Conscience is so angry,
with all my bad decisions,
I've broken every promise,
and made some new incisions,
but what if in the end,
this is how it's meant to be,
with everyone forgetting,
just how much they wanted me?
And maybe that's just all,
that my life is going to be,
a reminder for the others,
and a living hell for me.
Disparity.
Disparity of mind
is not so nice
when you're insane
and have no eyes.
Learning.
leaves trembling in the wind
are not cold at all,
they are learning to adjust.
Brian.
you said it, not me,
that this would be forever.
and I'm the asshole?
¿Pero, por qué lo hace importa?
El sufriendo de mi cuerpo, pasará.
La tortura de mi alma, pasará.
El rompiendo de mi corazón, pasará.
¿Pero, por qué lo hace importa si mi vida pasará también?
Writing backwards is fun.
Ruomuh htiw, ouy leuf ti gnittel tub
ouy rehtob noisufnoc eht gnittel ton dna
selur nwo rouy yb efil gnivil ekil tsuj
elpoep esufnoc yllatot lliw ti taht ni
nuf si sdrawkcab gnitirw.
Fact vs. Fiction
One is the loneliest number
that you will ever know?
He must not have met "two".
MythMath
05-17-2007, 02:18 AM
:p ...eno 'drawkcab em gnivird' taht dekil erus I
Time
Time, that fiend which preys upon us
piercing and scraping like a dental scale,
filing away at all of us that has accumulated over the ages,
good and bad, removing layer upon layer of what we are.
There is no reckoning with Time, it is not one for discussions;
no Time is a heartless one, a force with no compassion.
Time is no friend and only a foe by its nature.
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