Poetry thread

Samatha:

Chasing sunset’s last embrace

I paddled hard to cleave the sea

Your heart was of Eastern rays

You were never meant for me


>Don't fall in love guys, its a meme

Submit a request ask if I may
Ponder what I'm about to say
What is truth but what you believe?
The question I ask tends to deceive

Wander through dreamland aimlessly
Purposeless is your path to be
Blinded by veils, weighed down by chains
Unknowing god of your domain.

Take it all in unquestioning
Care not what truth blasphemy brings
Knowing inside you have no name
Turbulent thinking it does tame

A pitcher of reason does convince
sip; think that god does not exist.
Finish the drink and you will see
He's not where you thought him to be.

Behind the curtain does he lie
To cross the curtain you must die
Lifting the curtain brings to view
The stage where it rests was built by you

Be it not oak or willow tree
Metaphor forgoes clarity
Ponder once more what I may mean
When I profess that life's a dream

every moment a round marble
expanding or contracting in size and clarity
in proportion to a sense of wonder
which I occasionally recall
through a long forgotten smell
gleaming letters on a book spine
sunlit luminescence of page corners
echo of a soft voice in empty stairwell
shadow of swaying branches on the wall
electrified fingertips on sympathetic fabric
the sudden voice of a crow breaking a nostalgic reverie
paths trod in decade old dreams brought into focus at the edge of a pier
the candle flame's tiny window into the sun
unexpected approximations of eden dancing just beyond our daily periphery
coaxing each other to appear amid our confusion, giggling at the seams

>>9321131
Nice, the ol green room behind the stage

>>9320622
Old tendencies tend towards a kind of ill
In mind, a sickly lack of grace succumbs
Each man unmanaged by his own habits -
Farewell to momentary lapses; go.

Apropos of Thighs

The glass door opens
to homely incense and distortion.
washing the floor, dents from
ten years ago still fresh with dirt.

If what brings me here eludes me,
then it hides in my head.
undetected sub-scent, wildly rings
intensified by nearby strangers

I give her money and her product is mine
after banging my head till the rind,
the divine spins and needles glide
slow like honey with sweat bead shine.

She tells me about her man
in the low voice of a child.
cold sweat paralyzed hands
hold her swaying hips
over an insecure stomach.
I've had nothing to eat
and hunger wakes me up.

If I pull my hair out my scalp will go
bleeding blues and dry wine.
this drink in my hand is not as fine,
but it is the sixth
and the night will go on.

Round the drunkards go,
Buzzards not far behind;
Leaders lead, workers woe,
Blind leading the blind.

Insipid procession of mankind,
Thoughtless drones, burning coals;
Heartless hogwash, keep in mind-
The parasitic trolls.

I was in my room
When a fly appeared
and I caught it
With my bare hands

It fell on down,
And buzz-ed around
As if it was
In a trance.

It buzzed round, and around
The wooden floor-ed sea
Its incessant buzzing,
Had got me to cussing,
I put it out of its misery.

'Twas sad as sad could be.

I thought of the albatross,
and the snake;
And the evil choices,
That men hath make.

It lay there dead,
And motionless on the floor,
There was nothing to be done
Anymore

Did I give him another chance?
Did I do a favor for him?
But who gave us that power,
are we their gods?
Just because of our frame?

(not finished yet)

>>9320622
This is great.

>>9320622
Is this about psychedelics? Not bad OP.

>>9321131
Nice, sounds like Frost. Keep it up OP, I believe in you.

i wish i grew up with someone
it could of been anyone
a dad, mom any kind of love
food being cooked on the stove
is that what family is?
i dont think so, it's a miss
missing home, i wish i felt that
i couldnt wait to leave and put on a hat
made me feel free and like a thug
never felt love, never felt a hug
but it wasnt a big deal
i was occupied selling marijuana in seals
but i felt the walls closing in on me
what a sight it was to see
noone to guide me i dropped the books
age of 10 selling bags i didnt get looks
it was normal in our neighborhood
which were less neighbors and more hood
wish i had another chance at life
seeing people succeed filled me with strife
what if i had what others had
so whenever i saw my reflection i didnt look sad
maybe it was just how i was born into this world
my ancestors were enslaved and sold
didnt have much of a chance anyway looking at things
all i saw was the money and the cha-ching
people didnt know how it felt to be broke
they didnt see the fiends that smoked coke
i grew up with it i learned to accept it
its just a matter of fact you get hit with
but i wish everyday i didnt go down this path
its so lonely and so dim, i hate feeling wrath
for what i could have been
and for what i have become

>>9320622
Actually good. Well done, OP.

>>9323088
I'm sorry, it's a shitty translation. But the poem is beautiful.

>>9321131
this is really good, best i've read on here

>>9321131
Amazing

A dim cruel black void lies before us all,
A bottomless pit that cannot be crossed,
That manifests in an eternal mental trawl.
The sad failure of language to accost
To truly bring forth the wealth of wisdom.
I must play that infernal game of words
To prevent that damned and twisted schism
We must endeavour to get the veiled passwords,
The axioms that underpin a concept
And the stark intent which they are being used.
To compose the unique separate context,
We are liberated and not confused,
Only then may we get a slight appreciation of the tongue
But I am trapped inside this cerebral iron lung.

Seasons come and go
Rock is weathered by the flow
From dust new shall grow