EVERYONE: - Complete Poetry-junction-sumption-function. PIP (Poetry-in-progress) update - 06-21-05

[tyger]

Yeah new locale for the rest of my poetry. I can't post each one in a different topic. It'd clutter it up. Here's something I wrote right now after critiquing the poetry of others, and after shit that's happened today...or yesterday now.
~
Cafe AMERICANA
I don't know what you mean
When you call me Americana
today. You say I have alway
an ethnicvibe-frantic panting
on me. BUt not today you say.
What do you mean, when say I
don't feel INdian today?
Cafe AMericana? You with that those
eyestallion looks and maria-maria
grace of sunset and sunrise storms
What do you mean, when you say
I look different? I can smoke
cigarettes today and with you at that?
ANd I look different? Americana
that is. I've got things going on and on
in that little brain of mine. telling me
spelling me, things-
scaring-scarring-starring-staring
me in my face. My father had a heart-ache
today. I say in the end. and you apologize.
But what do you mean I look different today?
~

LOve & ROckets

 

[Blackjack Gabbiani]

That is very awesome. But did you mean to do the random capitalization? I rather like it.

 

[MistyRocks]

nice poem Tyger. I like your style alot.

How long have you been writing now? Have you had anything published yet?

 

[Barb]

Very good. If you haven't entered any writing/poetry contests, you should.

 

[Fig]

This one is so totally weird. I don't know. It just feel that way ^^;

I can'T quite think of what to say, except, again, what I said earlier. These really are meant to be heard, not read. (Of course, that's what I've pretty much always felt about poetry).

 

[tyger]

I'm on a spoken-word roll these days. Comments first, then to make a list of fics to read on the board. I haven't commented to any of you people. I feel bad. time constraints and all. But I do promise I shall read yours and more soon.

Gabby: I don't think I meant for the capitalizations. But, I think I like it as well. =)

MR: I've been writing for a long time now. I'd say since I was seven or eight. Although, everything before college was crap. hell, even all the writing in the first year of college was mostly crap. Not that these last two years have had me put out awesomeness. It's just been more of my hand finally finding a good glove that fits semi (or at least one that stretches to fit my hand ^_~ ) I haven't published anything in the line of fiction so far. But, I have a few english and psychology papers that have been published. Yay for stuffing my CV. =)

Barb: I've entered competitions and sent stuff in for publication. Except for one publication thing that's in the works right now, I"ve mostly been rejected. Oh yes, I'm hoping to get an anthology book of my poetry in the works. I've been talking with a small publisher.

Wolf: It's wierd because it's fueled by personal problems and emotion. I can honestly look at this stuff now and wonder why I even wrote it. I like what i've written, but that backstory just confuses me a bit. Yes, these do need to be spoken and heard rather than just read. I'm too self-conscious to record somethign though. =P
~

Now a new work. Based around a flitting little online conversation I've been having for the last four years with a friend/something.
It's called "You hear", which in itself is funny for the textual messaging world of yesteryear that i still belong to rather than all this crazy video and voice messaging.
~
You hear
~
We dance around each other
with created melodrama.
You and I-- baby, who else?
We'll talk every once in a while,
decades in the middle-- bramble,
dustballs, and time-worn clothes
tearing up that time-stream by.
We'll chit-chat, flit-flirt
around-about-or-fuck
each other out. forgeting-skirting
what's the actual issue though.
yes, We can dance around each other,
sure baby. but no more. you hear-
No more of this melodrama.
~

 

[tyger]

Haha no reviews. sad. sad very sad really. oh well.
~
I wrote this a while ago when I was hungry and roaming around the campus. I saw some dog-shit in front of New Pride apartments. The closest school buildings were the theatre, teh construction site of the science building with it's auditorium and the music hall. There had been a shooting at the apartments ages ago. THus the name.

Shit-Smeared-Concrete-Dinner-Theatre

I'll kill you softly, kid.
Bathing and anointing
you with Coke a Cola,
Gin and some Absinthe
First.
Bashing your head out
Smack-Dab on Shit-Smeared
Concrete Walls while listening
to Dinner Theatre, ears splitting
from the nosebleed section of Yankee
Stadium, in the middle of all this
Stink.
I'll kill you softly,
I'll kill you softly, kid.
Maybe add in a dash of lysergic to that liqueous
mix.
I'll kill you softly, kid.
it's a promise to you.
I'll kill you softly, kid.
I'll kill you!
~

Love & Rockets
Tyger :No-seriously-I"m-not-a-psycho: ofdanyte

 

[Blackjack Gabbiani]

Man that's good. I wish I could write like that when I'm writing full-psycho Bishasu. Or, y'know, anyone.

 

[tyger]

Gabby: I write like that every once in a while. I don't think I have that much creativity at all times to write anger like that. That was ANGRY ANGRY. this coming piece is just indignance.
~
DRINKING,RINKING, STINKING
~

drinking, rinking, stinking
my house up
i'm living it out of the pizza-box.
it meaning it. it meaning end all
and be all. it meaning life.
paying with a master-visa-amex
legs up on that couch, living
it out of the pizza box,
wiping my ass with dominos
coupons and grated parmesan
from pizza hut. drinking, rinking
stinking my house up. That's how
It is, and you can't come
to this place of worship,
that's right. my house,
and throw my pizza-box out.
Not how it works.
So watch me, drinking, rinking
stinking it up. it being life.

~

Love & Rockets
Arun K.

 

[Fig]

*shakes head* I really don't have the mindset for modern poetry, I think. I guess it's good - it seems so - but...I just dunno. It does nothing for me - then again, modern "art" rarely does, wether abstract painting, or whatever else.

 

[tyger]

Wolf - As I've said before, it's just something I"ve been trying out. I don't know. It's just one of those things where i'm not sure if this is what i want or if I must go back to what I've done before.
~
Well for all those (one) of you who still read. Here's another one. It gets its origin in a short story by Steve Stern called SHimmelle fly-by-night. I just took a few references from it and added other mythologies as well. I'm not at all satisfied with it because I waited until I finished the story before writing this. I should have stopped and written it, but I didn't. I lost that spark that i was waiting for.
~
Babylon speakeasy
--
Ahhh Ahhh AHhh
the angelss scream rhapsodies.
The mean dwarves lie in wait below
asking, and luring past Vallhalls
and Elysiums to the next-door doom.
There sitting by rock-jawed stone golems
and the wolf-fenris, Munnin's munched
by a wing-less Huggin who leaves to fly-by-night
attached by string-pig-tails to the dove-legs
and pidgeon-claws. But, how does a pitch-black
Kain-made raven leave the speakeasy of Babylon?
How does he leave the heavens and take a right
at main street and fifty-second to get to jehennom
and yama's paradise? Weighed down by the import
and drawls of memory and brother-flesh,
it's the karma of frig and Baldur's dash
into the lot to know if he'll eat Fenris's flesh
or die at mistletoe and brother's malevolence?
~~~

 

[Timarelay]

Not terribly fond of the first or the last(not a mythology person), but rather like the ones inbetween, especially You Hear, as I told you on AIM ^_^

 

[Barb]

I like the 'Drinking' poem. It has a despondent, almost angry feel to it and reminds me somewhat of the poetry Dorothy Parker wrote.

 

[tyger]

Tima - You hear, haha I like it myself. Although ire seems to reek of some sort of stereotypical spoken word poetry. I'm not fond of the last one I wrote myself, and Cafe Americana was more of an emotional thing. I'm not really sure what to think of it myself.

Barb - Aww, you flatter me. you compared me to Parker. that's too much. Serioulsy, See, I'm blushing =P. Although, I hadn't meant it as a despondent piece, it's interesting that you read it in a despondent way. I now only read it in that light rather than the original meaning I had given it.
~

Well new piece. It'I wrote it a few minutes ago and I 've done one revision of it, however I'm sure to do more reviews. This is mostly an almost first draft. Please critique and review.
~~

It's one a.m in the morning
leaving sleep deprivation behind
closed mercurial doorsteps
and single mother-raised girl
dreams. After that caffeinated
aftertaste, I"m loving it all,
with animation-extravaganzas
to watch, dancing liveried
showgirl routines stretched
to ad infinitum and beyond.
It is the crazy eyed
Peyote inflictions granted
to a sleep-deprived
man hated by Morpheus.
I'm sorry, lover-god of dreams.
~~~
Love & Rockets
Arun K.

 

[tyger]

no replies... oh well.
~
Press into the Jugular for words. That's what this is all about. Ever had a finger press into your jugular in such a way that it cuts into your voicebox and that general area. Ever tried speaking with a nasal tone while having this done to you? Ever tried singing? Well, that's what this song/poem is about. Singing it in that sense.
~


Jugular Drawl
-

I ain’t gonna lie to you
--baby.
I ain’t going to steal from you
Oh sinner child of mine.
Soooo, tell me how.. tell me when,
And we’ll sit and talk again
and again of things that have come and gone
and will come still.
Cuz… I’m not gonna lie to you – bayeee-B.

I won’t steal from ya
--child of mine
I won’t mess with ya
--My dead loves.
Cuz, what’s mine wasn’t ever mine
and so I ain’t got no right to take or give…
not mine to steal or fine
….tune.
So, come and sit with...
We’ll talk and drink and live in sin
Maybe dance in to chin.
But…But..But I’m not going to steal from you – chaaaaaaald

But I swear to you.. .I swear to you
I swear my lies and grave dust to you.
Not gonna lie to you
Not gonna lie…
For you.
Not goonna’ steal from you
Oh sinner-sinner of mine.


~
Wrote this watching pokerstars II on FSN, and a bit while watching some racy dating show on Spike.

 

[Blackjack Gabbiani]

You should record that.

 

[tyger]

That's possible.

This isn't the best recording for this piece. Cuz, it's done by me. I can't do this song justice. IT sounds like a donkey's bray. Self-deprecation... I turn it into a fine art.
~

it's rarred up because apparently vb doesn't allow you to send out mp3 files through attachments.