26 December, 2011


I've done my best to try and understand poetry this semester. I've attempted to write in different forms, not just the easy rhyme scheme that everyone loves. So here is my attempt and I will start you off easy just to show you how much of a poet I am not. Unlike other poets, I shall give you a hint in a picture of what my poems are about.

Better Than A Beat

He is not a Beat,
Without beard.
Sucker in place
of a cigarette.
linear lines.
No martini, but
coconut rum
"Must art be
abstract to start
a revolution?"
Too old.
Moldy ideas.
Nobody listens.
Into the cannon
with his work!

Conversations With a Monster

Mangled faces take time to heal.
A stitch here, a scar there.
Makeup covers pale grey skin.
It's natural they say, to cover the decay.
An old man's wants are a young woman's worst nightmares.
We don't use makeup sir.
It's not for us, but only those queer folk.
We are a different bread of human,
somewhere in between and never able to
cover up.
Sex is beyond us.
Looks keep out company,
even a simple conversation.

Sex Wax

The board is heavy
He slaps her ass
The boy is ready
For sex and wax

She arches back
And opens wide
He takes a chance
And rides her high

Of foam and blue
The white wash falls
He read too soon
There go his balls

Inside the pipe
He slips around
She squeezes tight
He almost drowns

In bay he floats
His body limp
She gives him push
He washes in

On sand he lay
She waves away
Just another day
Rollin' in the surfers hay.

Sleep Induced

Fluffy blue cotton head.
Comfort eyes,
Dreamy dawn wakes his face.
Stony arms weigh down heavy lids.

Anesthesia clouds the foggy air.
A broken wing and set to foot.
Moving legs,
alley ways,
run away.

Neon red with blue shadows chase.
Endless walls, to sky,
from ground.
Brick face, breaking yellow and orange.
No escape,
dead end,
collapsing door.

Core of Existence

Infinity sets the light of a diamond
The star is dwarfed white
Spiral orbit spells doom

Tilted axis swirls the season
Blue moon escape, travel round wonder

The bang is black, expansion infinite
Red, dead no pulse

Time is the eye, all relative
Yellow collapsing, bending
Rocky, icy core of the ring

Slave of the sphere
A horizon unknown

The negative is a selfish dance
Reveal until it's time

Where the Gold Lay (A Sonnet)

The beast is dead, his claws now cracked, no breath.
In fight he fell, one victim for the proud.
On fields men kill, the great, the bold, till death
and climb the dead with woe. Knight takes a vow,
a token of true fondness. Gazing blind,
death's stare is but a day, a week, a year
and still love keeps the fake of powdered mime.
In dreams she peers in crystal balls. No cheer,
no sound, she screams, his beat of heart is wrought.
In time the scars of dreadful past will stitch.
The day is far she keeps him close in thought,
in breast. Her bones now ache the burning itch
of tells when rock with stone are forged and crushed.
To stop a crown the Gold lie down in dust

1 comment:

Cap said...

Those were really good. I think it is hard to write coherent poetry. Much harder than the abstract stuff that comes out of Plath. But poetry where the reader can relate because of coherence and understanding and tone and meaning is, I feel much harder because you need to organize your thoughts into a stream of conscious and not into a drug induced word orgy.

Very good job!