Poetry Forum

Gabe - all messages by user

1/19/2014 9:30:01 PM
In Death we become something more	In Death we become something more... A rebirth of sorts where we are born again Just as babes frail and weak in their new skin; And as we are remembered we grow... And grow... Till those who recall are no longer. But by then we are immortal For we have become the grass and a part of the rest of you 1/17/'14
2/4/2014 8:59:46 AM
I rage to the wind	I rage to the wind, But it does not listen. For it howls It howls all it's song and sin 2/02/14 edited by Gabe on 2/4/2014 edited by Gabe on 2/4/2014
2/20/2014 2:06:30 PM
Goodmorning Sunshine	Goodmorning Sunshine You fill me just... With your priceless advice I 'Come Out and Play'. And when I see your "pretty boys" I try to have fun, But when you're around me it's starting to show. And all I can say is, I gotta get away from me Cause you've started to grow Hate 2/14/'14 edited by Gabe on 2/20/2014 edited by Gabe on 2/20/2014 edited by Gabe on 3/11/2014
2/28/2014 8:33:20 AM
In Death we become something more	Thanks for the review, I appreciate it. Sorry, I haven't replied sooner, but I have been busy with other things. I just want people to understand that as some religions teach us when we die we only change from one state of being to another...thus we are never truly dead and gone. Thanks again for your kind words -- gabe
3/11/2014 12:06:08 AM
Goliath's brother sends a letter	My Dear King, Has time been good to you? Do the snows of the winter-man make you think 'What could have been', When you slew my brother did you think of us... Your God-- your Father-- is not mine, But did you not break His laws? So why should you be sung on high when you should burn down low 3/7/'14 edited by Gabe on 3/11/2014 edited by Gabe on 3/11/2014
4/14/2014 1:36:25 PM
The N word	Going to work when at work I was one morning-- It was me and this old man, colored and shriveled by the sun. He was mad, crying it was me n' those "like" keeping him n' "his" down, Saying I was a "rear-hole" in a word. So surprised I was I said something I never should-- Something my father never would-- And that old man shutup like a clam The "N" word 4/13/'14 edited by Gabe on 4/14/2014 edited by Gabe on 4/14/2014
5/2/2014 7:40:06 AM
When you look up in the sky...	When you look up in the sky and you see those floating lights going side to side and up and down and not in a straight line…it’s cuz them UFO people are drinking my profits. And you and yours are arresting me for just makin’ a little shine but not goin’ after those extra-tarrestrials for flying drunk is crazy. You need to get them people from Area 51 and Roswell to investigate cuz you’re killing my way of life. I’ve written to the NSA about this, and they haven’t said a thing…and just between you and me, I knows they spying on everyone’s phone so when people send them nudie pictures of themselves to each other and stuff and those sext messages I’d like to know whose lookin’ at those cuz I’d like to too. But anyways, its E.T. and his homo friends drinkin’ my profits and flyin’ around without turn signals or nuthin causin people to hurt themselves cuz their lookin up at ‘em flying drunk and the only reason they haven’t hit anyone is cuz we ain’t grown wings yet. So please get Mulder and Scully, and that one-arm man on the case and let me go home. Cuz I ain’t done nothin’ wrong our founding fathers wouldn’t have done. When you look up in the sky... 5/1/'14 edited by Gabe on 5/2/2014 edited by Gabe on 5/5/2014 edited by Gabe on 5/5/2014
5/27/2014 10:12:19 AM
To hear the sickle reap	What is it like in that moment before the end-- When the abyss stares at you through and through-- I'd think you'd not know-- To hear the sickle reap To hear the sickle reap 5/25/'14 edited by Gabe on 5/27/2014 edited by Gabe on 5/27/2014
6/9/2014 9:46:17 PM
A Sign of the Second Coming-- Yeats	Know the Beauty of tomorrow began in the past-- And it must last through today, Suffering the indignities at hand. And then you can see out of Spiritus Mundi A shape with lion body and the head of a man, looking out with gaze blank and pitiless-- The Nightmare that slouches towards Bethlehem to be born... And Terra says he is coming Yeats's poem the "Second Coming" was about WWI and how it was the war to end all wars, only now we know better. Really WWI signaled an end of fighting of one era to the beginning of another, and this horrified Yeats as the latter was so very bloody. Frightened him in a way that he wondered if man had not lost sense of himself, and I try to extend Yeat's vision of a spiritual nightmare into an environmental expression-- especially in the last line. A Sign of the Second Coming-- Yeats 6/9/'14 edited by Gabe on 6/9/2014 edited by Gabe on 6/9/2014 edited by Gabe on 7/3/2014 edited by Gabe on 7/6/2014 edited by Gabe on 7/10/2014
7/7/2014 12:06:34 AM
To hear the sickle reap	I really do appreciate it when people take the time to give me their opinion," Thank-you for that." Now why did I use the word "to" instead of "when"... because the narrator or poet is pondering these thoughts to themselves. In poetry, nothing has to be grammatically correct... nothing has to follow a set of meters... in poetry all that matters is that you feel are understood by others, and by writing you were able to release some piece of yourself from your "Mind's-Eye" down onto the written page. To me writing poetry is like writing a song, if I didn't write it that way it was because I couldn't hear it.
7/7/2014 12:12:18 AM
The Loneliness does end	The Loneliness does end-- But to the emptiness you will go again. Unfortunate is that lot-- But it only hurts the living, not to those that rot 7/3/'14 edited by Gabe on 7/7/2014
7/7/2014 11:02:24 PM
To hear the sickle reap	True-- you do not need anything at the end of a line of poetry, but when I write 'the greater the mark, the longer the stare...' That even though I write in free verse there is a hidden rhythm in my poems if you say them aloud to yourself. If there is no mark at the end of a line, then you just shoot on through to the next. Yet, if there is, say, a comma, then you take a quick breath-- like a one/eighth rest in music (if I remember right). If there's say a dash at the end of a verse, then you take a greater pause with the greatest being the period. That's how I write. I'm not like Frost who will write whole reams of poetry without writing one thing at the end of his verses-- and he made great poetry but awful music. Writers-- very unique writers can tell stories on paper that can be as boring as spit, but they hold you so tightly so strongly that you are addicted to reading page after page of their work. This is because they can write music down with words that just sing to you. For me one of these writers is Bill Bryson, and his ideas of a good book bore the hell out of me. He wrote a book about where did we get all the names for everything in the United States. Good Gawd! And I bought it! And I read page after page-- me... I'd rather read up on Frank Miller and his "Sin City" or Batman in the "Dark Knight Returns"! Yet, there I was learning that as Americans the reason so many states have cities and towns of the same name is because basically our forefathers weren't very imaginative. To this day whenever, I'm at a bookstore I always ask about him.
7/9/2014 10:15:08 PM
The Loneliness does end	I don't like using a word more than once unless it is an article as 'a', 'an', or 'the'. Lonely sounds too much like loneliness, though sometimes I will use words that sound like other words in poems. Yet, that doesn't happen very often. As for L3, you're right I didn't need it, but what is art without the artist trying to put their own little signature on a piece. I like my poems to rhyme-- it helps me to remember them better. This is so I can call up a sick verse in my head at the crack of a whip, or woo a pretty girl with a sweet little 'Lady' poem that I wrote. I have a head injury so memorizing and reading are two very difficult things for me-- rhyming helps me to overcome that.
8/4/2014 7:39:07 PM
My Script, Tolkien	I have cut a Simril-- From the darkened grounds of Terra I made it... Chipping away at the coal-block, Picking till red my nails became, With hammer and chisel striking. And if my aim was true A light would shine through, a silvery hue-- Iluvator's Beauty... Many to it have I shown-- I even presented it to my Lords and Nobles Way back when, But never did I see it again My Script Tolkien 8/2/'14 edited by Gabe on 8/4/2014 edited by Gabe on 8/4/2014
9/10/2014 8:34:32 PM
Lady	Lady, You make me hurt-- With nary a glance you kill me-- Your Beauty is as the stars in heaven... Only the gods can touch 9/6/'14 edited by Gabe on 10/21/2014 edited by Gabe on 10/21/2014 edited by Gabe on 10/22/2014 edited by Gabe on 12/3/2014 edited by Gabe on 12/4/2014
9/10/2014 8:41:57 PM
Nearer the end	Nearer the end... When memories burn like gold Where life has lost its luster and things no longer matter-- This is a place of thought. Remembering the things you have done and left undone... Where the skirt so short goes all the way up to her Quack! 9/6/'14
10/21/2014 5:36:09 PM
Lady	True, the phrases are trite and tawdry, but that's what girls like... No longer are people interested enough to take the time and understand a sonnet or a poem of length. Many times just writing in the simplest of words people forget themselves and are disarmed of the masks they wear...
10/21/2014 9:38:02 PM
Lady	Lady, I cry, and I cry, and I cry For I want you to want me-- And I shudder when I look into your eyes Fall all I see is Beauty (And I can see me inside thee) 10/9/'14 edited by Gabe on 10/21/2014
10/21/2014 10:54:54 PM
Nearer the end	If you have ever lusted or had want for something, then it can be plain to see how some things burn in your memory... as that pretty blonde you saw briefly just jogging across the road-- she didn't even see you-- but for some reason she stays in your head. Or that pretty necklace you saved your money up for, only to lose once you left it in your jacket. Gold is something that has always burned in men's minds as it has always been lusted after and wanted for... When things no longer matter sometimes we wonder still "what if", and so you think of things you did and didn't do. This is usually at some point long after when we are closer to the end than the beginning. So we may ponder what could have been if you hadn't and so forth...The surprise at the end is ubiquitous-- each to his own-- it could be life, god, nature, love, or loved-one. It is open to each one's own interpretation.
12/3/2014 10:30:34 PM
Lady	Lady, The Silence of your Beauty is deafening-- Every moment that I breathe, every breath...is for you. And though bittersweet is the pain that you are not with me At least it is for me to keep 11/20/'14 edited by Gabe on 12/3/2014
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