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  1. #1
    Jonna
    Guest

    Lightbulb Poetry/Prose section

    I am leaving this forum for reasons that are my own, but I wanted to leave something in my wake. Something that will be remembered long after I am forgotten in these forums. For the Poet, the Artist, the Writer and the Philosopher; please use this section to share your ideas, works and emotions with others. If we do not attempt to understand the unknown by whatever means excessable to us, then we were dead from the day that we were born. Live and evolve!

    The Original Echo

    Transmit the voices in your head to God
    or was it the other way around
    everything is the one and yet distant
    mimicking the layered reverberations of the original
    each time becoming immensely distorted
    grotesque and monstrous
    in a combine mangled incompetence
    removal of the epidermis
    results in renewal of the planetary garden
    the original sound is eternity
    with every soul being an original echo
    that in turn is born to the identity of a form
    and the echo is further extended
    the mutation of the absolute
    founded by the ripples of water
    crashing back down upon the distant shores
    How many lightbulbs does it take
    to get back to the original echo?

    International Dawn

    Nuclear winter
    home in the home town
    Standard insect in the kevlar machine
    shard like memories jabbing into his limbs
    as you played with your toys
    A savage rape on all fronts
    Can God take you this far?
    Is this a good thing?
    Claim your stake in the world
    claim a snake as a pet
    between you and your voice
    the work will only be half as much
    Divorce yourself at the sight of yourself
    and torture the candy
    that seductively removes it's outer layer
    The lights have no dominance here
    so open your eyes to the knots in reality
    held hostage by the echoes of movement
    glued to the tissue and fluids of fissures
    The gentle kiss of love
    radioactive dopamine hooked up to the bed frame
    Is it a house in which you will live your life
    or is the future through your hand
    on a direct route to the sun

    Insurrection Against Epigenesis

    Europa held its arms around the newspaper stand
    all the while thinking of mother
    knitting skullcaps a million miles from here
    Resident children vandalize the fortune teller
    carving lines to construct the future
    disregarding the ocean cascading from her hands
    The formaldehyde filled moon dreams of youth
    of revolting against the sun
    driving to the department store
    to shoplift some dark glasses
    Dream inside the dead pale
    for life excels at life
    Methodreen and the twenty fourth hour
    Put God back
    if you can remember where you hid him
    and rumble towards the nearest cardinal sin
    Half a holy man sprouting from a tree
    unable to delegate power
    with the trigger glued in fast forward
    and when the wino tastes like menthol
    it's just the remnants of a fiberglass society
    but never a naked birth
    So voice away your self defense
    and choose to choose
    or did you sell your soul one to many times
    This room will change your shape
    if you peal away the winter's cloth
    I no longer hold the years within my throat
    The empirical clock
    who restricts the massive cure hemorrhage
    needs not only to be thrown out the window
    but also loved by a steamroller
    Can you push the rain away
    while standing in the rain

    The Raincoat You Call Home

    She gives birth to the colours in the rainbow
    spewing birds from the cores of her eyes
    Open the doors and let be bathe in this
    Let me be purified of test-tube longevity
    and all of the madness that I have ever thiuwed upon
    could never have prepared me for this strangeness
    the energy that emanates from her lips
    cascading down her body
    spilling like roots into absolution
    swirling in the air as if she was own my breath
    Teach me to sing with your strength
    and I'll show you how to fight the impossible
    all the while with unwavering faith by your side
    clean my hands of the blood in this world
    and I'll be the raincoat you call home
    catch me when I stumble
    and I'll introduce you to solidified fate
    grow slender angel wings
    and I'll sprout a tiger's tail
    become God
    and so will I

    There is so much more to living than a movie, please remember that.

    Farewell,
    Jonna

  2. #2
    These are very good. Farewell, Jonna.
    If Yoda is capable of kicking someone's @$$, imagine what a muppet could do!

  3. #3
    Jonna, wonderfully expressive stuff you've presented here. I don't just mean these poems, either. Your posts have always been very expressive, leading the readers to believe we know you better than we really do.
    It's been a real pleasure, I for one have enjoyed immensely your e-presence. Im hoping that you'll come back to us (after an absence long enough to deal with whatever it is you need to deal with) to once again entertain us with your wit - and more importantly to challenge us to be more than we often demand ourselves to be.
    On behalf of the forum, thanks.
    GOLDEN DEUCE AWARD WINNER & MABUCON ATTENDEE 2008

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  6. #6
    Is it a stream of consciousness or a diatribe of pretensions?

    I prefer the more accessible poetry. If you want to get into introspective navel-gazing (like so many US films since 11/9 ) try the following by T S Eliot; Rhapsody on a windy night, The Love Song of J Alfred Prufrock; by Samuel Taylor Coleridge The Rime of the Ancient Mariner, Kubla Khan and Frost at Midnight.

    For a nice bit of prohibition partying, you could do worse than Wallace Steven's Emperor of Ice Cream and my personal favourite, Ted Hughes' Pike. I used to have one of these babies as a pet and the poem describes it perfectly

    Why not make this into an artsy fartsy thread, non?

    jeddah
    eVerlasTing

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