ZEFRANK.COM - message board

ZEFRANK.COM - message board (http://www.zefrank.com/bulletin_new/index.php)
-   FICTION PROJECT (http://www.zefrank.com/bulletin_new/forumdisplay.php?f=17)
-   -   Poetry Thead (http://www.zefrank.com/bulletin_new/showthread.php?t=1063)

Deviate 02-10-2003 02:39 PM

Poetry Thread
I just figured it'd be a nice place to submit some of the stuff you've done outside the Fiction Project.

Drop your poetry here, read, comment, etc.


nycwriters 02-10-2003 02:51 PM


zenbabe 02-10-2003 05:57 PM

As the currents of life carry me away
I look at all that passes
All the waste
All the despair
All the lonliness
The waves carry me away
I go deeper
Deeper into your soul
Drowning in your eyes and thoughts
The waves
They take me back
Back away from you
I try to talk to them
But they dont hear me
"Fall I say"
"Fall, fall, down into your own earth"
"And let me fall into mine!"
But they don't hear me
Their anger overpowers me
And I am covered once again.

noxxville 02-10-2003 08:26 PM

Please forgive me...I wrote this when I was 12 and it is the only thing that I can contribute to this thread....

persistence prevailing,
the spider begins to feed.
its prey was fast,
and it cleverly sped by.
but when it wasn't watching,
the spider caught the fly.

Deviate 02-10-2003 10:53 PM

this looks a little different without the right spacing...

she lives in dreams
of lonely men
who hide their eyes
from the light
palming green
pausing for a brush of flesh

girls with closed eyes
over a wall of mirror
against a pole

she wears blue
fish skin
like false water
it clings to her breasts
heavy with alcohol
bought by strangers
sucked dry
on the rocks

her arm is around my back
neon ripping at her hair
tearing at her smile

gillter on her eyes
flashes from the chasing lights
reflects upon her mirrored eyes
hiding the fractured glass
that traps her
deep inside

poised over coffee
over years
she had talked about tomorrow
and now
drifting faintly above the din
she speaks in slurs
about the private party
at her apartment

a bark
from a heavy man
and she says she has to go

i feel her skin
almost frictionless
against my cheek
and with a quick kiss
she tells me she misses me and
"i'll call"

if she rememebers my number
if she remembers me.


masterofNone 02-10-2003 11:53 PM

new york bar*b*que
to pigeon holes
and collection bowls
and things that bump and bite

to asphalt tiles
and necrophiles
and beasties left and right

i hate you too
you sordid zoo
and do so
quite precisely

you raped my father
and killed my mother
and did it
all so nicely

i love you ma
i miss dad too
i really couldn't be
more blue

it's society that
knocked you off
and gave you both
the screw

written in 10th grade... makes my appreciation of AgentSmith more understandable now don't it?

beckstra 02-11-2003 01:32 AM

first, two comments...then two of mine...

noxxville - that was awesome. you sure were a smart twelve year old :p

dv8 - hon, that was awesome. the imagry alone...yowza


intrigued by she sound of castonettes
echoing through the city streets
excited children run to windows
peek through closed drapes
the cobblestone streets are lined with fire and flowers
ignoring the spectacle of color is impossible
the air is alive and bustling with ritual
rustling with vigor
eyes are alight with each glimpse of magic
tension is enigmatic yet enthralling
alighting curiosity
people flock to the streets
driven to be alive
men tip their hats and women move their hips
music plays
voices laugh
smiles glow
the sun is forgotten
the night hums into existence
sings people into movement
people dance like fireworks against the night sky
the children whisper and giggle to one another


Aurora Borealis
like the tie-dyed cotton mumu
resting softly on her shoulders
the dark soft-colored fabric
flowing down around her ankles
the sky is dark and rich with
sky-lit fantasy for miles
and all I can seem to do is stop and stare

the stars like paper beads
against the color-washed thin cotton
hang above the ground in fashion
as do the beads around her neck
the moon is barely hidden
just behind the gentle colors
like her tiny frame is hidden 'neath the gown

and I am overtaken
by the dancing in the sky
as are the people gathered 'round her
watching every step she takes
I am caught up in the life of night
it holds my captive mind
and her sandals clatter further down the street

amanda 02-11-2003 04:31 AM

Awesome work, all of you. This is the latest one I could come up with- it was originally posted in Paper, but it's the only one I have to show for the time being.

Two Dimensions

Waspmade, handmade, machine.
Sails boats, wings air
flutters to the celebrated ground below.

A reed in Egypt becomes
a read elsewhere.

Priests script of enlightened paths unfolding.
Nations and fingers, races and hearts bleed
Souls burn, as do books
yet volumes speak to minds crumpling.

Drying tears, fibers tear.

Map me, and I will distort the world.
Treaty me, and I will shape it.
News me, and I will reveal it.
Money me, and I will make it spin.

This is how
tea is caged for a diving expedition,
trails aren't lost,
and the honeymooned remember fragility.

Deviate 02-11-2003 12:57 PM

collaboration communication
i just threw this together after reading the entirety of the thread. so many images floating in my head.

it is night
and i am dancing
light against the darkened sky

hiding from society
behind tenement walls
cowering tall on a bed
or fire escape balcony

wearing a cotton mumu
and a necklace of stars

i have a sister
window dressing
tapping over freedom

i am a spider waiting to eat

i am a child waiting for a name

i am trapped in lights flashing

i am drowning
and am saved
by the sound of my own voice
and a map
unfolded from
Sailors and Egyptians alike

it is night
and i hear a party
in the cobblestone streets
and float from my perch
to join.


Deviate 02-11-2003 07:40 PM

"the definition of

i thought as i
plunged myself
into the trash bin,

"must be something
quite similar
to this."


noxxville 02-12-2003 02:08 AM

I like that one Dev. Very Nice

moel 03-08-2003 02:44 PM


nycwriters 03-08-2003 03:20 PM

Nice Noel.

Frieda 03-08-2003 04:06 PM

i love it noel! thanks! :)

sbraiden 03-13-2003 05:22 PM

apprehension ...

(mp3-formatted audio to accomodate both highspeed and dial-up modems)

Spoken Word - Free Verse. From the "Keeper" anthology.


apprehension ...

things done, and undone
a thought half formed
a word half spoken
i can't seem to move
beyond this place where i'm fixed

afraid if i do
that i'll miss something real
what i have been waiting here for
and i know it
the taste of regret
is an everborn memory apart
from any other sense
i possess

a subtle friend in dark nights
when i'd rather not have to decide
for fear i'd be wrong

i'd be wrong once again,
and again i'd regret my free will

as long as i'm able to choose,
i'm able to choose wrong
and that haunts me beyond
any one thing i could
possibly put into words

only that
there is a distant and lingering consequence
that comes to mind
in a vengeful and darkening place
that is thick with a taste
acrid like bile
salty like adrenaline rushed to my veins and it's taste on my tongue
coarsing to pummel me forward and out of harm's way once again

so i sit here
in this half-cracked cacoon
hid from the world
only to the extent that
there is no possibility of
anyone walking by windows on third floors
yet exposed to the passing of birds
and the flapping of wings matched in time to
the beat of my heart
the guiltiest pounding incessant inside of my head

blue and white shadows
are flickering here on the wall
in some half-painted moon cast up
by glimmers from a silent tv

i see ocre and squash
lined on window sills off to the east
hear cats knocking can lids and
hissing at footfall below

a baby is crying
and i wonder
does she know
of the difference between happy and not?
or is face and noise only
means to meet need?

and why have i complicated
so very, very far beyond just that?

-- sue braiden.

sbraiden 03-13-2003 05:29 PM

Golden ...
"Golden" - from the "Keeper" anthology.


it's the sun settling like a russet peach in the summer grass
and knowing that in a million years
you could never spill it's richness onto canvas brushed.
it's the smell of earth after rain when you breathe its heavy musk
and sigh to think that of earth's sweet cinnabar there'll
never be a way to say it so.
i see you watching, smile.
my foot seems far too slow to take me there,
for in a million years
i could not put to words this clench
i feel when i steady myself
and cannot catch my breath.
you are the ache,
the knot,
the sigh,
the moan,
the moving moments painted on my face
when ___ i ___ stand ___ still.
you are the sistine, piscene, unseen cathedral of muscle
that beats in my chest.
you are the memory of a future thought,
the echo of a life not lived,
but longed for without patience, without end.
you are the one sure path
that a million years of instinct
burns from soul to soles.
and so i walk.

sbraiden 03-14-2003 08:58 PM

Beginnings and Ends ...
"Beginnings and Ends ..." -- from the "Keeper" Anthology


That I am not loins,
nor rib,
nor heart,
not even what connected they make up.

I am a collection of thoughts,
bound by values and love,
that, unwrapped, spill out and
into other lives, mixed and swirling,

Cease, these limbs, but
not my soul.

It is the beginning of my life,
and not the end.

It is the beginning,
where I spread out in veins of
and thoughts
and ideas
that have infected those people I love,
and even those
who have despised me.

It is those things that I have changed in them
where I live on.

This is my immortality.

That what I
and did
and loved
becomes a part of so many living things,
and will continue across lives like a ripple,
making another
and, boundless, yet another.

It is there in those ripples that I live on,
my energy magnified and alive
and moving
and unbroken,
my essence still vital and alive.

These are my circles.
These are my hundreds of lives.

beckstra 03-22-2003 01:46 AM

got a call from some office
the phone was covered in dead skin
held it two inches from my face
made it pretty hard to hear
but the muddy crust
on my shiney plastic reciever
shuddered through me
like an open sore
took the windex to it
the dead skin smeared around
didn't wipe away completely
mixed amonia and water
then it was gone
and so was i

lapietra 03-23-2003 10:05 PM

you are very beautiful
you have glad eyes
and a smile that hasn't seen itself
you hear what is said
and what is not
and you hear not what is wrong or right
but what is and could be

you are


a sweet flash of energy
that passes in front of the world
so that they may be nourished by your
forever and always newness

and that those seduced and torn
by the world
may wonder
and that those pure and awake of heart
may follow

beckstra 04-04-2003 01:58 AM

My Stroll Through Suburbia
faded car alarm sounding in the distance
take a step and the sidewalk has ended

Gus Segiro's RV is parked in his manicured yard
behind the white picked fence
and the neighbors are surely dying of a heart attack

the Miltner's carport is empty
no monster Escalade marching over us
icey cold steel sparking dollar signs in rubber rotations

blonde Ted is cleaning out his mini pond
dead fall leaves and melted mud cling to his hands
he rests his chin on the blue plaid johnny collar shirt shoulder

pass the first magnolia bloom on the block
and you've begun a brighter adventure
with Mr. Smith and Maggie and Daniel playing hide'n'seek

the newlyweds down in 402...the lovely little log siding
walk with their hands tied together in red fleece
and trailing Jack with his russell terrier smile

the sun, being placed on a dimmer switch, is fading
soldier streetlights blink the beginning of night
the tudor's timer starts the sprinkler

faded car alarm sounding in the distance
take a step and a new sidewalk has begun

lapietra 04-04-2003 03:06 PM


beckstra 04-05-2003 12:58 PM


ambo 04-09-2003 01:28 AM

Seemingly Sane

Destiny and I have made a pact
I will deny his existence
And he will remain silent

Do not scoff
For I have entered the arena
Waiting for the cheers to come like a wave
Surely they will see my intentions
Such good intentions

Morning has come like a song
Both end and beginning
I beg for time
As I move forward, forward
Never glancing back
I am stitching my quilt
This is fine work for a mortal

What’s that you say
That hump on my back
Right there
Are you sure
I cannot seem to see it from any angle

I ask for the impossible
Secretly hoping for the improbable

Spring, come without winter
Step on my disasters
Oh, for a savior
Free of charge

Copyright 1999 Ambo Lovely

lapietra 04-10-2003 06:20 PM


Originally posted by beckstra
Oh! :)
I just loved that. :)

beckstra 04-15-2003 09:47 PM

Oh. Thanks. :)

Cicatrice 04-16-2003 12:41 PM

a gift
A word in your ear
a thought in your head with a word in your ear
hear it now, don’t fear
a word in your ear
a gift
lift your eyes and ears
for a gift
an idea
inching in you ear it's injury to insult
incoming ideas
idle ideas inviting
citing series of procedures
watch walls wash in over ears
washing years of tears in and in
deep down
deep down dark drums
darkening deepening deafening
a word in your ear
hear it now
a gift

nycwriters 04-17-2003 03:05 AM


laughingbuddha 04-17-2003 08:54 AM

This is all i can contribute...wrote it some time back when I was really down

I am a lost soul
One that resides in a black hole
Nothing shall escape my grasp
Not even light can hope to evade my clasp

The Sun that lights up the globe
gives up that last bit of hope
And retires to give way to the dark
Where in the moonlight we hear the wild dogs bark

I am a lost soul
One that resides in a black hole
Nothing shall escape my grasp
Not even light can hope to evade my clasp

laughingbuddha 04-17-2003 09:03 AM

What is what, Who is who
Isn’t the world a mirror unto you?
What you see is what you discover
It’s no use running, there is no cover

laughingbuddha 04-17-2003 09:06 AM

I had a dream... a crazy dream
I imagined myself sitting by a stream
Waiting for the stream to become a river
I felt my body grow cold and shiver
I said this is strange
You are way out of range
I spent hours sitting there
Waiting for a maiden fair
As the day passed by
Weary grew I
But hope I did not lose
Because that was mine to choose
On a day of suffering, I drowned in pain
That is when I realized the gain
You look behind in regret
But forget what you get
Now in the morning, I lie awake
Thinking in the reverie’s wake
I had a dream… a crazy dream
And all I did was sit by a stream

Ganymede 04-29-2003 12:38 PM

Dangers of Drag
Trochaic quatrameter sonnet

My small hand stretched slowly upwards
Snatches at the sodden leather
One small hand slid further downwards
Holds the rest of me together
Beige thoughts, smoothing over top
“Just walk calmly, don’t succumb”
Clear glass thoughts slit, slide, and drop
Raw and ragged, blood and cum
Grab a wall, just keep on moving
Balanced on two broken heels
Nothing left to keep on proving
Never mind what pride reveals
Trust and hope have passed away
Drained of blood and naiveté

Needs work, I know, suggestions? (Please?)

Deviate 04-29-2003 07:15 PM

upon first read it was very enjoyable. however, in order to give accurate criticism i'll have to disect it. hopefully i'll get to this tonight...


Ganymede 04-29-2003 08:37 PM

ta, I really apreciate it.

moel 04-30-2003 09:00 PM


Deviate 05-01-2003 05:47 PM

sorry, Ganymede, i haven't gotten to it. let me see if i can tonight ;)


Ganymede 05-02-2003 03:01 AM

Deviate, if you do this it'd be an imense favour, watch me actively not bitch about trivial details, whenever you can get to it is wonderful

Deviate 06-15-2003 12:54 PM

lol. still haven't gotten to it. i'm so unreliable.

oh, and this was a blatant attempt to bump up this thread, or thead as it's been named. i just didn't want people's (and my) poetry to be lost in the shadow of another thread....

beckstra 06-15-2003 09:47 PM

Bah. Bah on you. ;)

Cicatrice 10-18-2003 09:56 PM

I've been slamming more these days, if you don't know what slam sounds like this won't come off like it's supposed to.

I picked my shortest and cleanest one:

hippocratic hypocrites are guarding over us
eyes on the prize they're watching out for us
‘cause our health is their welfare
and welfare whores don’t get given bus fare
out of this glass fish bowl
‘till they’ve had their fair share
shared our brains out to every tortoise and hare
racing off down the rabbit hole
with the phylum, order, and genus
of each issue that’s issued out to us
digging what they want from our brains
just so they can bury it "properly" again
trying in vain
to put square corners on our pain
still they may be tidy but they’ll never be clean
unless they scrape out our insides and build us over again
and I still object to that shame
‘cause when they look in my eyes
I don’t see the prophets or the wise
I see the kids who ****ing theorise
about life under the big top
and they don’t know when we’re going to pop
but the theory still scares them into trying to stop
the hop skip and drop
of our diagnosable thoughts

rapscalious rob 10-26-2003 09:33 PM

More bitter than black coffee with no sugar, no cream.

Here’s a different med poem, but more silly:

Common Cold

Go hang yourself, you old M.D,!
You shall not sneer at me.
Pick up your hat and stethoscope,
Go wash your mouth with laundry soap;
I contemplate a joy exquisite
In not paying you for your visit.
I did not call you to be told
My malady is a common cold.

By pounding brow and swollen lip;
By fever's hot and scaly grip;
By those two red redundant eyes
That weep like woeful April skies;
By racking snuffle, snort, and sniff;
By handkerchief after handkerchief;
This cold you wave away as naught
Is the damnedest cold man ever caught!

Give ear, you scientific fossil!
Here is the genuine Cold Colossal;
The Cold of which researchers dream,
The Perfect Cold, the Cold Supreme.
This honored system humbly holds
The Super-cold to end all colds;
The Cold Crusading for Democracy;
The Führer of the Streptococcracy.

Bacilli swarm within my portals
Such as were ne'er conceived by mortals,
But bred by scientists wise and hoary
In some Olympic laboratory;
Bacteria as large as mice,
With feet of fire and heads of ice
Who never interrupt for slumber
Their stamping elephantine rumba.

A common cold, gadzooks, forsooth!
Ah, yes. And Lincoln was jostled by Booth;
Don Juan was a budding gallant,
And Shakespeare's plays show signs of talent;
The Arctic winter is fairly coolish,
And your diagnosis is fairly foolish.
Oh what a derision history holds
For the man who belittled the Cold of Colds!

-- Ogden Nash

here’s another:

The Germ_

A mighty creature is the germ,
Though smaller than a pachyderm.
His customary dwelling place
Is deep within the human race.
His childish pride he often pleases
By giving people strange diseases.
Do you, dear reader, feel infirm?
You probably contain a germ.

-- also Ogden Nash

All times are GMT -3. The time now is 03:43 PM.

Powered by vBulletin® Version 3.6.5
Copyright ©2000 - 2020, Jelsoft Enterprises Ltd.