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My first real poem Options
Toddey65
Posted: Friday, April 1, 2011 12:37:01 AM
Rank: Advanced Member

Joined: 10/19/2009
Posts: 108
Neurons: 336
Location: United States
Here is a poem I did for school that is a rewrite of "Darkness" by Lord Byron, but I had to make it into a modernist poem, including the destruction and isolation of the Great War.

It is 600 words and I just wrote like hell, I wrote it in one day in about 4 hours or so I just let my imagination go wild.

The Naïveté

There was a war, a horrid one; then worldwide vertigo
The sun fell grotesquely down in the desolate tombs
Of the dead as they wander through the empty space
The empty world, blackened and pitch black,
Day and night were gone, so were the passions
The only passions now were dreadful
The passions empty as empty as the sky,
Passions turn to discombobulation
No moral compass, what is left or right, both are right
Living in their crumbling, dying, fading palaces
Past heroes besmirched, past stories lost in translation
A world lost all cities bombstrucked, all stifled
The humans were farcically impecunious
Dreadfully destitute, with no reality
Men with no love left, men empty,
devoid of feelings, lost in vertigo
A new world with the imprints of a world gone wrong
With a world gone mad, Fighting planes brought their-
fire to earth suddenly and then were gone
The fire encroaches on every human, every creature
Encroaching...encroaching...digesting...plundering...eradicating
Every child being sacrificed to Moloch, profaning the name of the God
Every house in darkness, Hades brings the underworld to us
Man is now wondering why? is there a reason?
Man is but a pusillanimous earth worm in the sea of carnivores
In fear, isolated, encloistered behind the windows
The empty glass that partitions us.
Linoleums screeching as we walk with torpidity
Human meat in place of food, ersatz morality
Humans excoriating each other slowly...
Slowly they are emaciated, left to die
All but beasts in a world lost, lost in themselves
confounded, discombobulated, confused, abandoned, denigrated
like receding ships in the night
Like all masts obliterated by the storm, we are fading because of,
The storm that went and past,
but the world was never the same afterwards
Now we all are slipping on the linoleum floors
Dried out and ready to die...alone
etherized by the prophets of the tao
prophets gone wild, without a muse
Screaming out to the desolate world
Telling us what we need not know
War will survive us after all,
"War will survive you..
But the indigenous will have to die
Leaving nothing left, but immorality,
After all the indigenous died already
that is why are times are ferociously feral"
The world now on the edge, people running around with cameras
trying to photograph everything that had passed and been done
The harm, the grotesque destruction, "let’s salvage the truth,"
Will scream the naive, dying creatures, so isolated from a reason
Ossified, hearts rock solid, bonesmacking hard, impervious
Yet the bad still survives with the imperious animals.
The husbands are nothing but firebreathers
The wives are nothing but icebreakers
But most of all they all are...all of the humans are bereaved.
There was no obviating or abating this isolation
The walls were too fast, as they beset us
Our deportment was plastered, we are animals after all
Uneasy, wondering, thinking, unacting, actless fools
Ignoramuses walk where the world was plastered with bombs
All attempting to keep the aspidistra flying,
Commiting iniquitous acts,
Hair gone wild, unkempt, disheveled, uncouth.
People no longer must look at skeletons for a momento mori
The wicked droit du seigneur of this night
Affectations faded, the purpose of being human is faded
The happiness, optimism, gone like the water
We went from one extreme to the other
the biggest pratfall of human existence has been done
Creatures speak from their navels, they're just titillating
Back to the streets though you see buildings crumbling
Buildings that are ruined,
Crimson is the city, the color of fire
Charcoaled is existence, burning
The sky is invisible to the naked eye
The booming earth is migrating to hell
Faster than the big bang, reverberating through the galaxy
And now earth is as empty as…the universe...


bluecloud
Posted: Friday, April 1, 2011 12:46:07 AM
Rank: Advanced Member

Joined: 8/14/2010
Posts: 361
Neurons: 25
I`m shocked. What kind of school are you doing there in US?
sarah71
Posted: Friday, April 1, 2011 2:44:46 AM

Rank: Advanced Member

Joined: 2/18/2011
Posts: 553
Neurons: 79,784
Location: Turin, Piedmont, Italy
it's a bit baroque, but it depicts pretty much how I feel about the world... if we thought of ourselves as animals (and not as eternal gods), perhaps we would stop this ordeal and live more peacefully
Marissa La Faye Isolde
Posted: Friday, April 1, 2011 8:26:05 AM
Rank: Advanced Member

Joined: 9/10/2009
Posts: 1,647
Neurons: 4,678
Magnificent Poem! Tell me more. Write something else for us to read. Yea :)
Toddey65
Posted: Friday, April 1, 2011 4:28:48 PM
Rank: Advanced Member

Joined: 10/19/2009
Posts: 108
Neurons: 336
Location: United States
sarah71 wrote:
it's a bit baroque, but it depicts pretty much how I feel about the world... if we thought of ourselves as animals (and not as eternal gods), perhaps we would stop this ordeal and live more peacefully


My goal was to be baroque, ornamented, extreme, outlandish.

Thanks for commenting.
Toddey65
Posted: Friday, April 1, 2011 4:31:35 PM
Rank: Advanced Member

Joined: 10/19/2009
Posts: 108
Neurons: 336
Location: United States
bluecloud wrote:
I`m shocked. What kind of school are you doing there in US?

An online school at the moment.
Toddey65
Posted: Friday, April 1, 2011 4:36:50 PM
Rank: Advanced Member

Joined: 10/19/2009
Posts: 108
Neurons: 336
Location: United States
Marissa La Faye Isolde wrote:
Magnificent Poem! Tell me more. Write something else for us to read. Yea :)


I'll keep on writing but I cannot create something like this just everyday, I must have the available time and inspiration, plus it isn't a pure poem I added some elements from my other poems that are small and pathetic compared to it.
jcbarros
Posted: Friday, April 1, 2011 8:36:55 PM

Rank: Advanced Member

Joined: 5/14/2010
Posts: 2,363
Neurons: 9,377
Columbine?
Marissa La Faye Isolde
Posted: Saturday, April 2, 2011 1:56:27 PM
Rank: Advanced Member

Joined: 9/10/2009
Posts: 1,647
Neurons: 4,678
To toddey 65:

I understand what you say about having the time and the "state of mind" to write-- and how life can interfere with your creative inspirations. But do not be so quick to judge your poems as pathetic and small...Not all poems need be
grand. Never destroy a poem you have written. Sometimes one can not see the beauty of one's own soul until one "sees" it much later. Chisel out a sanctuary in your world in which to write. Think of Vermeer, his world was coming apart at the seems. He had a horrible wife and home life, war and political upheavals all around him--yet he painted under extreme turmoil. MY favoriet picture is THE LACEMAKER. Think of your poems as the making of lace...

With kind regards,

Marissa





excaelis
Posted: Saturday, April 2, 2011 10:05:13 PM

Rank: Advanced Member

Joined: 6/30/2010
Posts: 10,965
Neurons: 32,652
Location: Toronto, Ontario, Canada
[quote=Marissa La Faye Isolde]To toddey 65:

I understand what you say about having the time and the "state of mind" to write-- and how life can interfere with your creative inspirations. But do not be so quick to judge your poems as pathetic and small...Not all poems need be
grand. Never destroy a poem you have written. Sometimes one can not see the beauty of one's own soul until one "sees" it much later. Chisel out a sanctuary in your world in which to write. Think of Vermeer, his world was coming apart at the seems. He had a horrible wife and home life, war and political upheavals all around him--yet he painted under extreme turmoil. MY favoriet picture is THE LACEMAKER. Think of your poems as the making of lace...

With kind regards,

Marissa

Another Vermeer fan. Awesome ! Cartesian philosophy distilled in paint.

Toddey, I love the outrage and passion of your poem. The tumble of words is interesting; I get the sense of someone trying to find expression for a maelstrom of thoughts and feelings yet almost drowning in them, failing to find enough words to express his feelings. Running out of words. In this of all languages !

The trick is to make your intellect inform rather than adorn your work. By which I mean a baroque facade will often obscure the fundamental architecture of a building. Let the simplicity of good design speak for itself, and adorn it only where it will spotlight that design. Clarity is always good design.

The only way to change darkness is with light. The only way to change ignorance is with knowledge. And the only way to change confusion is with clarity.









Toddey65
Posted: Monday, April 4, 2011 6:45:06 PM
Rank: Advanced Member

Joined: 10/19/2009
Posts: 108
Neurons: 336
Location: United States
excaelis wrote:
[quote=Marissa La Faye Isolde]To toddey 65:

I understand what you say about having the time and the "state of mind" to write-- and how life can interfere with your creative inspirations. But do not be so quick to judge your poems as pathetic and small...Not all poems need be
grand. Never destroy a poem you have written. Sometimes one can not see the beauty of one's own soul until one "sees" it much later. Chisel out a sanctuary in your world in which to write. Think of Vermeer, his world was coming apart at the seems. He had a horrible wife and home life, war and political upheavals all around him--yet he painted under extreme turmoil. MY favoriet picture is THE LACEMAKER. Think of your poems as the making of lace...

With kind regards,

Marissa

Another Vermeer fan. Awesome ! Cartesian philosophy distilled in paint.

Toddey, I love the outrage and passion of your poem. The tumble of words is interesting; I get the sense of someone trying to find expression for a maelstrom of thoughts and feelings yet almost drowning in them, failing to find enough words to express his feelings. Running out of words. In this of all languages !

The trick is to make your intellect inform rather than adorn your work. By which I mean a baroque facade will often obscure the fundamental architecture of a building. Let the simplicity of good design speak for itself, and adorn it only where it will spotlight that design. Clarity is always good design.

The only way to change darkness is with light. The only way to change ignorance is with knowledge. And the only way to change confusion is with clarity.










I agree with you, but sometimes you like baroque and other times clarity. For this poem I just went with the former and thought it turned out all right.

That is an excellent interpretation by the way. I wasn't really aiming for that, but I see how that is manifested in the poem.
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