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Poetry, Prose and Other Creative Writing

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  • Poetry, Prose and Other Creative Writing

    Quite some time ago I started up a thread in which I posted a bunch of poetry I had written. I did it in the hopes of encouraging others to share their writing, and in the process, generate something a wee bit meaningful on the forums. All of the poetry I was writing back then was big time morbid and full of self-loathing. This time I'd like to hit you with something that takes a look at the bright side. And after you're done reading it, I would love to read anything you have to contribute. Don't be shy. Don't say, "It sucks so I won't post it." If you're into writing at all, share your stuff. If you're not into writing, maybe this thread will encourage you to try your hand at putting some words together.

    Without further ado (a.k.a - lots of babbling), here's my piece. It's actually a set of lyrics, but to me, lyrics and poetry are one and the same. Feedback is cool, but keep it constructive. And that goes for any writing in the thread.


    the best awful

    two decades not knowing where
    i was
    two decades thinking just how unfair
    life was
    woke up this morning, said it's time to declare
    who i am
    just can't make it out there if you aren't aware
    of yourself

    you think you're awful?
    but what if you're the best awful?
    you think it's bad?
    but what if it's so bad it's good?
    you think you're worthless?
    but what if less is more?
    it's time to
    get up
    stand up
    pull yourself off of that floor

    two months since the fog had lifted
    from my head
    two months since the sunlight had shifted
    it's shinin' on me
    took some time, but finally i've sifted
    through the shit
    i see clearly now that i have been gifted
    with happiness

    you think you're awful?
    but what if you're the best awful?
    you think it's bad?
    but what if it's so bad it's good?
    you think you're worthless?
    but what if less is more?
    it's time to
    get out
    stand out
    you've got a whole world to explore
    you're not gonna hold back anymore
    there's opportunity galore
    jasonofabitch loves!!!!

  • #2
    That was a good poem, you should sell some of this stuff, unless it's very personal to you.

    I'm pretty good at creative writing, however, I'm not willing to share it with anyone, lol

    From what I've read on here in the past, you've got great talent.

    Comment


    • #3
      Though I still hate your new buddy icon (bring back the King Crimson!), I really like this, though I would definitely call it "lyrics" rather than "poetry" (for me, there's a really clear distinction- well, not quite. the distinction is that lyrics are poetry- in their own way- but poetry is not lyrics; it's a squares/rectangles thing).

      Ehh, I might put something up later too.
      Originally posted by Ward
      OK.. ur retarded case closed

      Comment


      • #4
        I don't like poems.
        5: Da1andonly> !ban epinephrine
        5: RoboHelp> Are you nuts? You can't ban a staff member!
        5: Da1andonly> =((
        5: Epinephrine> !ban da1andonly
        5: RoboHelp> Staffer "da1andonly" has been banned for abuse.
        5: Epinephrine> oh shit

        Comment


        • #5
          Equations can be just as beautiful too

          Nice Jason.

          Comment


          • #6
            not bad Jason :up: :up:

            heres one, I'm not too sure what to name it


            untitled
            my poverty stricken critisims create, dead sinicisms
            an addiction to alter states, in this game of life I create my own non fiction
            with miscilanious diction my minds in a prision wit lines for kamakazi
            missions

            the flight of my fate I can't stand this wait
            dieing horrible wiccan deaths I'm strapped to an oak tree with chains
            an my sick lookin cape is startin to catch flame my legs goin ablaze
            I black out in a haze plus the smoke I enhaled has my mind erasedd an
            phased

            I gotta rotton egg taste on my tongue I felt like convulsing like a robber in a cop chase
            taking refudge on the arm of a bum as he held me there an poured rum on
            an open gash that was massively biting back every white cell battle attack
            I have an inhabition to free myself from chains of poverty striken
            critisisms
            but you all know we have it in us.. inhibitions to create new chains of
            intuition
            but without jesus you'll never break free poverty stricken critisisms
            cataclysmic constricting altered visions
            headshot images just use your imagination
            theres no first place so no ones winning
            this is the always was an always will be
            satans mission

            what the superior man seeks is in himself; what the small man seeks is in others - Confucius

            http://www.soundclick.com/scck/
            http://www.soundclick.com/johnecarter/

            Comment


            • #7
              [
              ...
              http://www.trenchwars.org/forums/showthread.php?t=15100 - Gallileo's racist thread

              "Mustafa sounds like someone that likes to fly planes into buildings." -Galleleo

              Comment


              • #8
                those are cool
                the price is right, bitch.

                Comment


                • #9
                  Originally posted by Vykromond
                  Though I still hate your new buddy icon (bring back the King Crimson!), I really like this, though I would definitely call it "lyrics" rather than "poetry" (for me, there's a really clear distinction- well, not quite. the distinction is that lyrics are poetry- in their own way- but poetry is not lyrics; it's a squares/rectangles thing).

                  Ehh, I might put something up later too.
                  Actually, when you put it that way (the squares/rectangles thing) that's exactly how I feel about poetry versus lyrics. They are one and the same to me, but only sort of.

                  Thanks for the compliment Peanuts. Now, like I said, don't be shy! Post your shit man. I love reading other people's work.

                  Jeansi, if you don't like poetry, try writing a short story or something. Fiction is fun, dude!

                  Nockm, thank you kindly. I know you're a creative fellow. I'd love to see you contribute.

                  I like it sixtoo, dark as it may be. Good job dude!

                  That was beautiful, bz. Three and a half thumbs up.

                  Hero, I think I was pretty clear when I said no trashing on anyone's writing. Don't be a fucking douche, you fucking douche.

                  EDIT: My avatar's been King Crimsonized just for you, Vyk.
                  Last edited by Jason; 08-11-2004, 05:02 PM.
                  jasonofabitch loves!!!!

                  Comment


                  • #10
                    The amount I care about art is roughly this much:. However in the last few days two things struck me; one is the artwork to the CD Diary by an American called Chris Thompson, and the other is your poem. Good call Jason, it looks like the happy munchies finally kicked in
                    Originally posted by Facetious
                    edit: (Money just PMed me his address so I can go to Houston and fight him)

                    Comment


                    • #11
                      Haha, happy munchies! That's a new one. On a serious note now, big time thanks, Mike. If my writing, or anyone's writing/art for that matter, can touch even one person, mission accomplished.
                      jasonofabitch loves!!!!

                      Comment


                      • #12
                        Song I wrote for a band when I was 13, looking back it's not really that good but whatever (I think I've posted it on these or CoT's forums, so if it looks familiar...it's probably the same thing).


                        These Days

                        These days I feel like giving up
                        I've worked so hard for nothing at all
                        Acceptance is my dream
                        But now I've lost the will

                        What will it take?
                        What price am I willing to pay?
                        Do you think it's strange
                        What people will do for social equality?

                        All I wanted was something to fall back on
                        All I wanted was someone to be there for me
                        That's all I wanted
                        But I got nothing...

                        Acceptance is the key
                        To pure misery
                        Cuz now I see
                        You cannot be happy
                        When you are thinking
                        Someone elses thoughts
                        Someone elses dreams

                        No one will miss me
                        If I choose to leave
                        There will be no flowers
                        There wil be no tears

                        I'll just fade into all the fears
                        Never to be thought of again
                        Originally posted by Vatican Assassin
                        i just wish it was longer
                        Originally posted by Cops
                        it could have happened in the middle of a park at 2'oclock in the afternoon while your parents were at work and I followed you around all afternoon.

                        Comment


                        • #13
                          Roar

                          Breathe. Breathe. Breathe.

                          Shake the ref's hand, shake Red's hand.
                          Breathe. Breathe. Whistle.

                          Lock-up; hand on neck, hand on elbow,
                          Push-pull, push-pull, push-pull
                          Shook, pop, block, neutral, circle.
                          Knee tap, reach in, reach out, side step,
                          Breathe.

                          "Action wrestlers!"

                          Shoot for the leg, Red sprawls out.
                          Hard on your head, hard on your head,
                          Suck in that leg!
                          Head to the side, post your leg, look to the ceiling,
                          Drive.
                          Circle, circle, circle, control- point.
                          1-0 Blue.
                          Hard on the head, hard on the head.
                          Torque that elbow.
                          No give. Switch to the arm bar.
                          Drive Red forward, pull it in,
                          Thirteen, fourteen, fifteen.
                          Whistle.

                          Up.
                          Breathe.
                          Whistle.
                          Lock-up; drive towards Red.
                          Push Red back, push Red back!

                          "Circle Red!"

                          Red circles left, you drive forward.
                          Red steps in, threads the arm, hook, hip, pop.
                          Up, over, down, mat.
                          Grip tightens, spins towards your head.

                          Gasp.

                          Keep that shoulder off the mat.
                          Spin with Red, spin with Red.
                          Must hook that leg.
                          Spin, spin, spin...
                          Grip tightens. Vision blurs. Gasp.
                          Keep that shoulder off the mat.
                          Keep on spinning, hook that leg.
                          Catch it, catch it, catch it, caught.
                          Pull.
                          Belly out.
                          Prone.
                          Breathe.
                          Red circles behind.
                          Three and one.
                          4-1 Red.

                          Wait for fifteen.
                          Be strong, be solid, give nothing away.
                          Hard on your head, hard on your head,
                          One... Two... Three...
                          Hooks on your leg, switches to your ankles.
                          Kick. Kick. Kick.
                          Four... Five... Six...
                          Wait for fifteen.
                          Up onto the waist, goes for the gut wrench.
                          Keep those hips down!
                          Seven... Eight... Nine...
                          Squeezes and drives,
                          Stay off Red's hip.
                          Ten... Eleven... Twelve...
                          Stay off Red's hip.
                          Don't let Red turn you.
                          Wait for fifteen.
                          Thirteen... Fourteen...
                          Pops on the hips, drops the shoulder. Bridge.
                          Down, up, over, mat.
                          Two.
                          6-1 Red.
                          Breathe.

                          Time running out.
                          Red goes for another gut.
                          Tightens his grip. Pops, drops.
                          Bridge.
                          Two.
                          8-1 Re-
                          Stick. Post out that leg, loosen that grip, turn into Red.
                          Red tries to belly out.
                          Stick it. Stick it.
                          Crawl up to the chest.
                          Underhook the arm. Arm around the head. Lock.
                          Squeeze.
                          Two.
                          8-3 Red.
                          Time running out.
                          One.
                          8-4 Red.
                          Time running out.
                          Need a pin to win.
                          Chest to chest,
                          Fire in your lungs
                          Rubber in your legs.
                          Off your knees, on your toes.
                          Squeeze.
                          Time running out.
                          Closer... Closer... Tighter... Tighter...
                          Referee spins around. Checks the shoulders.
                          8-4 Red.
                          Time running out.
                          Need a pin to win.
                          Ref checks the shoulder, whistle at the ready.
                          Hand floating off the mat.
                          Closer... Tighter... Closer... Tighter...
                          Slap on the mat. Whistle. Buzzer.
                          8-4 Red. Blue wins by pinfall.
                          Stand.
                          Raise your arm high.
                          Shake ref's hand. Shake Red's hand. Shake the coach's hand.
                          Breathe. Breathe.
                          Roar.

                          Comment


                          • #14
                            I'm not gonna write anything, but if my impressionist dot painting wasn't enough for you, I'll try to find the story of when I kissed the fat girl that I posted on pallies forum.
                            http://www.trenchwars.org/forums/showthread.php?t=15100 - Gallileo's racist thread

                            "Mustafa sounds like someone that likes to fly planes into buildings." -Galleleo

                            Comment


                            • #15
                              I've been working on making lyrics for the Sandstorm techno song.
                              DELETED

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