Horrid Poetry

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  • Mr.Taxi Trix
    Senior Member
    • Dec 2000
    • 1273

    #31
    When I saw you there was a music from an unseen band
    Your zipper seemed to wink at me, it called out to my hand.
    I wanted then to play with you, and have you on the floor
    in that small dressing room, and then to take you one time more
    out on the stage where all would love to see it, friend and foe
    and we would give new meaning to the old phrase "standing o".

    Comment

    • Mr.Taxi Trix
      Senior Member
      • Dec 2000
      • 1273

      #32
      C. Bird

      A silver-haired finambulist is walking on the wire
      beneath a whispered moon of silent round.
      She draws a breath which causes her to focus on the fire
      which wheels around her balanced body, listen to its sound.

      It is the dialogue of wind and motion, speed and light
      the music of our unseen ritual dance.
      Its yellow roar continues in this magic circus night
      and listening invites a subtle trance.

      Trance of torches in her hands, reflecting inner glow,
      of balancing, of mastery, of time.
      Of all those silent secrets still unspoken she still knows
      A trance involving body, soul, and mind.

      Belittle it and be right, though your thoughts are cheap and fake.
      Continue where you're shoulder-deep entrenched:
      but as we stand and watch and love and yearn and want and ache
      our lives get ever closer to full spent.

      And, unapologetic, on the night fire sings and sings
      its whispered strength propelled through windy shifts,
      as underneath her foot the tightened wire gently brings
      her angel weight on skyward, skyward lifts.

      Comment

      • Mr.Taxi Trix
        Senior Member
        • Dec 2000
        • 1273

        #33
        I'm ten feet up this morning, watching people's heads.
        Tall, yeah, but two cups of coffee short.

        And they're waiting, in a line, to get into the festival.
        Because now, they need to go through security,
        to be screened before they play.

        Threadbare Liberty, unseen, sheds another gauzy layer.
        Until, at last, certified safe, they saunter.
        Deliberately asleep. Why should today be any different.

        Comment

        • Butterfly Man
          Senior Member
          • Dec 2000
          • 1606

          #34
          Horridly Conceited of Me


          Woke up early this morning, thoughts in my head swarming,
          thinking of just how to say

          The things I’ve been privilege, in our small little village,
          to have earned on my walls on display

          The plaque from Shizuoku, the coin from Kyushu,
          my poem a fan did crochet

          The trophy from Halifax, the People’s Choice chosen act,
          from Cornerbrook ticking away

          The hats from the Pier, all three that appear,
          with metallic colored inlay

          Darling Harbor's Number 1 act, Kingston’s superfluent plaque,
          and four medals from the IJA

          But the things treasured most, if I’m allowed one more boast,
          are not found on my resumé

          Woodhead’s strongman from Boston, Gazzo’s Academy Award pun,
          “King of the ‘80’s”, cum laude.

          Comment

          • Mr.Taxi Trix
            Senior Member
            • Dec 2000
            • 1273

            #35
            devilstick poem.

            Hey look up at this stick floating here in the air.
            See the motion described in its spins.
            Let your mind empty into the flow, if you dare,
            Let your worries dissolve into grins.

            You're an integral part of this firespinning play
            your attention is why the stick flips.
            If you listen, you hear flames are singing away
            Tickling air with bright flare on the tips.

            Comment

            • Evan Young
              Senior Member
              • May 2001
              • 1002

              #36

              Comment

              • Butterfly Man
                Senior Member
                • Dec 2000
                • 1606

                #37
                The Butterfly & The Dragon

                Ten stories higher than the moon,
                followed by a butterfly...
                chased by a dragon...
                a bright balloon rose into thin air...
                (an orphaned wish in the middle of a dream)
                Fragile and alone...
                (a string no hand held)
                a lost bus ticket riding to nowhere...

                The butterfly was a juggler,
                (crisscrossing solid tears, to the delight
                of frightened musicians)
                The dragon was an inverted actress,
                (breathing terror, she exhaled courage)
                a sort of soaring library in the sky
                (“checking-in” fear and lending strength)
                courting the balloon and praying it no harm...

                They flew as strangers...
                ...yet the butterfly was not afraid,
                he knew there was truly nothing alien
                in the universe... and besides...
                his beauty was his breastplate...
                his laughter was his lance...
                a winged warrior battling sadness...

                They sailed above the orange...
                ... and passed below the black,
                playing with a dream...
                She and he...
                ...like planets orbiting ordained ellipses,
                had committed dreams, separate, never to touch...

                Yet, even in knowing that the others path was also,
                alone... (in the dark)
                somehow made the voyage less frightening
                and the next turn about the sun more hopeful...

                I pray their balloon never pops...
                -Vito-

                Comment

                • Mark Wess
                  Senior Member
                  • Jan 2002
                  • 115

                  #38
                  the poetry here hasn't been nearly bad enough lately. He're is a poem I just wrote for my chemistry teacher. It's in iambic septameter, which I made up based on iambic pentameter to write this poem. Enjoy

                  One Day on an Atom

                  “Another day to orbit!” said the proton pleasantly,
                  quickly receiving his reply while moving randomly.
                  Another little particle was flying ‘round near by
                  “There’s no use in a day like this when your as small as I.”
                  Electron was always the first to see the darker side.
                  It seemed that every comment that he ever made was snide.
                  “Is it not a lovely day?” the proton asked his friend.
                  “I am not getting involved.” The neutron said again.
                  Then all at once there was a burst of strongest energy,
                  Electron was nowhere in sight and now ‘twas two not three.
                  The atom felt all wobbly and the friends were very sad,
                  the two were not as stable as the three that they had had.
                  The neutron wept indifferent tears but then was comforted,
                  “Don’t worry friend he’s never lost, for somewhere else he lives.”
                  And sure enough not far away the electron had replaced
                  another sullen whiner with a pouty little face.
                  This sad electron darted round, without a place to stay
                  until he turned his little gaze our favorite atom’s way.
                  The proton seemed to grow much brighter on seeing the dot
                  “If you are negative my friend, then I’ve got just the spot!”
                  And so it seems that with these two the opposites attract
                  the proton courted Electron Two with charm and lots of tact.
                  And soon it was as if they had not been without their friend
                  the tiny little atom now was stable once again.

                  ~mfw

                  Comment

                  • Butterfly Man
                    Senior Member
                    • Dec 2000
                    • 1606

                    #39
                    Now that is one great poem!

                    I feel elevated into a SP3d orbital...

                    HIOAg awaaaaay

                    Comment

                    • Mr.Taxi Trix
                      Senior Member
                      • Dec 2000
                      • 1273

                      #40
                      I saw you there, your body small.
                      expectant, I thought,
                      "she's the one".
                      Dressed in black. Rebel lady.

                      I picked you.
                      shimmered you through
                      other potentials
                      and onto my shoulders.

                      Where you sat and shat
                      all over our humble show.
                      Your disintrest and fear
                      dominating.
                      My 7 minutes of power
                      crushed to a lame lame three.
                      Whiff of pity in the air.

                      Begging the questions.
                      Did sweet charisama cheat you?
                      Do you hate me?
                      Why, oh why, did you raise your hand?

                      Comment

                      • Mr.Taxi Trix
                        Senior Member
                        • Dec 2000
                        • 1273

                        #41
                        I do not wish for that day
                        we were surrounded by smoke rings made of water.
                        we were swimming through the summer sky.
                        holding hands, swimming.

                        I do not wish for those hours,
                        or a glimse, through fire, of your eyes.
                        I am teaching stones to float.

                        [ 11-02-2003: Message edited by: Mr.Taxi Trix ]</p>

                        Comment

                        • Airborne Dan
                          Senior Member
                          • Dec 2000
                          • 101

                          #42
                          Symphony on the moon
                          incubating enormous whispers
                          music falling fast through
                          rock and shadowed void
                          tickling sunbeams and
                          changing nothing as it aches and searches
                          for the music of the spheres

                          it vibrates its luscious diamond
                          it pounds against it's silver home
                          only one may hear it now
                          reflecting through the clouds
                          in a golden forest of delirious mist and
                          swimming in a blue and misty spring

                          now asking for the love
                          of the woman gowned in sunshine
                          she tells him we will play in rain, shadow
                          and lakes of diamonds you and I
                          to a garden in the summer sky
                          dancing a tango to the
                          symphony on the moon

                          Comment

                          • Dead Wood Records
                            Senior Member
                            • Aug 2003
                            • 159

                            #43
                            Know it was just dust dust one of those times
                            You thought the whole world was coming down on you?
                            But then just in the nick of time when you were right on the edge
                            Something just turns up!

                            From No-where: Especially if you took the chance

                            Comment

                            • Clapchap
                              Member
                              • Feb 2002
                              • 71

                              #44
                              Like it leave it
                              I've heard them say.
                              Elegant violence
                              stampeding your way.
                              Lasso your soul
                              'round the neck where it's tender
                              sell it on ebay
                              to a big spender.
                              "Price's no problem"
                              They'll say with a nudge
                              money under the table
                              past their store bought judge.

                              Eric

                              [ 11-08-2003: Message edited by: clapchap ]</p>

                              Comment

                              • Dead Wood Records
                                Senior Member
                                • Aug 2003
                                • 159

                                #45
                                Cast me into the shadowless night
                                A flight of passion
                                A place where the dreams just swish and turn
                                Find me a place where the parrafin tastes of beautifull wine
                                Then make sure you'll remind me of of not making just one more flame.

                                [ 11-08-2003: Message edited by: Dead Woods Music Agency ]</p>

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