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[TD1]

The herd is me, I am your herd
The girl is foal and friend,
My hand is steady, true and kind
And I am broken too.

They killed my king with fire,
They slaughtered all my friends,
But when I slipped the net
My mission did not end.

I am the justice no man sees,
I am the blade of truth,
I am an old man lost in time
Whose heart is lost to him.

My coat is heavy on my shoulder,
Heavy on my mind
And I walk all the paths of life
Rage-worn, yet kind.

And I am of your herd! I see
Your outer scars, your children dead
I see the hurt they gave to you
That moulded fair to foul.

I see because I, too, am scarred
And heavy is my sword.
But listen to me now, Greathorse
For Justice is my word

And I will take your case,
And stand to judge your right.
What will it be? Death to the girl,
Or stand to fight?

A Greatcoat brings the King's Law to all.

----

Based somewhat loosely off a book I just read. It was actually a moving scene, if a scene in which a man appeals to a horse can be moving.

[AzyWng]

Not to unfairly criticize, but the rhyming scheme seems a little... Irregular. I can't find a rhyme in the third stanza, nor in the fifth stanza, but in the other stanzas I can find at least two lines that rhyme at the end.

Also, PTW. May or may not post a poem or two of my own which will likely contain even more glaring errors than the poems on this thread usually do.

[TD1]

It was my intention to have it rhyme sporadically. The speaker is not in the most ordered frame of mind, heh. Also, welcome!

[Reelya]

Do songs count as poetry? Too bad, i'm posting my songs. They include complete chords too.

Here's the punk song I wrote today. it's a pastiche of late 1990s petrol-head/garage type punk ala Turbo A.C.s and New Bomb Turks. Basically think all big power chords and singing style as bombastic as possible:

Spoiler (click to show/hide)

Code: [Select]

Octane (Burnin' Rubber)

Verse 1:

C#...
Pump that gas
F#...
Don'tcha know-o-oh
A#...
slam that door
     C#...
Man, you gotta go-o-oh

C#...
An open highway
F#...
burnin' rubber
A#...
You gotta move
C#
like no other

Chorus:

Octane
C# C# A# C# / A A G# A / F# F# E F# / G# G#  C C
Octane
C# C# A# C# / A A G# A / F# F# E F# / G# G#  C C
Octane
C# C# A# C# / A A G# A / F# F# E F# / G# G#  C C
Octane
C# C# A# C# / A A G# A / F# F# E F# / G# G#  C C

Verse 2:

        G#
Put the pedal to the floor
     A#
It's time to roll
        F#
With an Iron Fist
      C#
And a burning soul

G#
aint no time
   A#
to hesitate
F#
losers suckin' dust
     C#
man, they're too late

(Chorus)

(Verse 1)

(Chorus)

Verse 3:

G#
Blast straight through
          A#
You never pay the toll
     F#
both hands on the wheel
          C#
you gotta take control

G#
aint no time
   A#
to hesitate
F#
losers suckin' dust
     C#
man, they're too late

(Chorus)

Of course, the song is about "cars" but it should be clear that it's not really about cars at all. I'm gonna have a bash at recording this soon. It's clearly not the greatest song ever, but i'm fairly confident that this is in fact better than a lot of the shit out there for realz.

I also wrote this horrible song today, which I'm trying to polish as much as possible as a joke. i'm trying for a Franz Ferdinand sort of pacing and singing style with it. I started out thinking I should write a song about "love" but my brain rebelled. Think of it as a satire of how clingy the people in love songs generally are:

Spoiler (click to show/hide)

Code: [Select]

"I still love you baby"
=======================
Chords are played as bar chords with blues-style alternating pinky hammer-downs, e.g the the tab for G# would look like:

-6-8-6-8-
-4-4-4-4-

Apply this rule generally.

Verse 1:

G#
i love you baby
F
i love you all the time
G#
I love you baby
F
so much it's a crime

Chorus (repeat twice):

B                    F#
don't matter what yo mamma say
G#
I still love you babe
B                 F#
don't matter what policeman say
G#
I still love you babe

Verse 2:

G#
i love you baby
F
wherever you are
G#
you could move interstate
F
I'll find you however far

(Chorus)

(Verse 1)

(Chorus)



[Edmus]

I raise your car song a car villanel!
(By Jimmy Andrews)

Intake, Compression, Ignition, Exhaust

I thrill to feel the engine go
The four-stroke's strong and well-rehearsed:
Suck squeeze bang blow! Suck squeeze bang blow!

Especially at the motor show
When rev-head fever's at its worst
I thrill to feel the engine go.

My boyish spirits swell and glow
Propelled by each explosive burst:
Suck squeeze bang blow! Suck squeeze bang blow!

Testosterone commands me so
That even when it's still in first
I thrill to feel the engine go.

The ultimate fellatio
Is guzzling fuel with vicious thirst:
Suck squeeze bang blow! Suck squeeze bang blow!

With dipstick dipped deep down below
In thick oil, thoroughly immersed,
I thrill to feel the engine go.
Suck squeeze bang blow! Suck squeeze bang blow!

[TD1]

I just reread through this thread, and am truly glad I made it. Great work, everyone!



I walked once where the land was fair
And knew the weight of state.
For I am ruler of that land,
Yet for me, it won't wait.
Instead, the bracken grows the hedge
And sparrow wings his way,
And when all's said and done
What's said at night is gone by day.

My heart was heavy, on return.
For I command the law be writ
Yet can't be sure that in those words
There isn't more of greed than wit;
The smallfolk die and I know not,
Enshrined in state am I.
The farmer bows before me while
His cattle in his fields may die.

I enter through my castle walls, and see
My daughter fair upon my throne
A doll in hand and smile on lip.
How can I love her so,
Yet drive my people with the whip?

I enter, yes, and now resolve
The Law of Land shall hold.
Let not the words of Christendom
Ever be said so bold
As those of bud and leaf,
A father's pain, a widow's grief.
To these bare rules I hold,
Upheld by me; enshrined in gold.

[Tomasque]

Great poem. I love it.

[Reelya]

<snip>

Actually I didn't really care for that poem. The reason is that the one I wrote is an analogy for "how to live" (e.g. every statement in it can be read as a statement about living your life in general, and not specifically about cars at all. That's just the surface theme / metaphor).

Whereas that's just a poem about car shows, and literally nothing more. My one is about 80% layered meaning, there are no layers at all in Jimmy Andrews' one.

[Edmus]

I can see the second layer to yours now that you point it out, but I can't see anything that flags the interpretation. Songs can get away with being less concrete in meaning, so that probably doesn't matter. I'd be keen to hear it played!
Your stalker song is pretty funny. Carry through listening to that policeman line, then half a line later it's like, 'wait... Police?' hahaha

Intake compression etc's a bawdy little poem, but I like its comparison of the masculinity tied up in cars and motor shows with that of boastful young-bloke sexuality. It doesn't take itself too seriously, but I think it's a worthwhile comparison. And while the double entendre are amusing, the sheer number of them is impressive. I'd be surprised if you missed them! But they aren't just there for giggles.
Plus, anyone that struggles all the way through writing a villanel is a trooper.
I have a folder of his poems, I enjoy this one a lot:

Spoiler (click to show/hide)

Endgame

When I was seventeen my dad and I
drank chess each evening and played scotch & dry
till, leering at the board with weary eye
one night, a supine bishop he could see:
'He's lying,' said my dad, and looked at me
fingering a queen, as lost in thought as he.

He's got a knack for wordplays. I think he's stopped writing now, which makes me sad.

[TD1]

Was it so easy?
Not to open wide the gate,
Nor even cut a path inside.
No enemy guarded the breach,
No foe-man died.

It is not meant to be easy.
There is to be a
Clashing of the eye,
A sparring wit.

This was a sigh, a smile.
And I was unprepared.
The doors weren’t locked.
Was there even invasion?
I feel no different
Yet profoundly so
To stay, I am indifferent
To leave, I am reluctant.

My ears were deaf
Though cupid flew
I could not hear
His fretted bow.
Was string pulled back?
Have I been struck?
To die of such a wound –
Ha! –
That would be my luck.

For though I’d swear no
Foot gained ground inside
Still, soft as mildew,
Banners furled
I feel a stealth within.
It creeps
And it must be
Coincidence
The beast inside
Reminds me of
Someone I know,
Oh,
Just passing well.

Edit: And this may as well accompany the above, though I already posted it elsewhere.

Hear now the lyrics of my heart
The apple tree with golden fruit
The hidden mountain, standing tall.
The cliff face doomed to fall.

It pierces through the land
In fold and fallow dwelling long
And in that music’s hand
We hear a sieving song.

“Where grows the smiling woods
And badger wheels his way
Where groves of elm are basking
In the daylight’s gentle sway.

“There, there my humble friends
Will hearts once more be free
To gather up their ragged ends
And simply be.”

Then tap your feet in time to it
And hear its glad refrain;
And if you hear it, oh my heart,
Ignore the hidden pain.

[Yoink]

I've been dead some hundred years
My bones lying in this field
And ten-thousand creepy-crawlies
Have made of me their meal.

I asked them why they did it
Why my flesh held such appeal
They said "We're only joking,
"For none of this is real".

@Dwarfy: hmm, that first poem (although the second holds more appeal for a base philistine such as I) reminds me of one I wrote last year. It's not very good, of course, that goes without saying - although I believe it was supposed to be a continuation of an earlier part that was even worse, so eh.

Multitudinous neuroses,
Herculean anxieties,
I do battle with them in your name, once again,
Yet they mass ranks upon ranks in a host without end

Your banner overhead, fluttering in the breeze,
Yet the look on your face, I cannot quite see.
Whilst a hint that you felt the same, would lend heart to me,
Knowing not leaves me filled with a  vague dread and unease.

I shall fight on regardless, though, it matters not
For it is with you that I've thrown in my lot
Each flashing sword sings "she loves me,"  "she loves me not,"
This metaphor's tired but it's the best that I've got.

Not a mere soldier's place, to question his queen
So I shall press on, though my heart it doth bleed,
With the thought of your eyes, and their fires of green,
I'll cut a swathe through my problems and tame the mind's weeds.

...Ow ow ow I think I just sprained my neck from cringing so hard. D'you reckon I could get a day off work for that? Still going to post this, though. Apologies if anyone else sustains a similar injury upon reading it. 

[Tomasque]

Heya. I made a sci-fi game with poetry stuff in it. I haven't gotten any takers, so I thought I'd see if you guys are interested. It's over here.

 On that note, I'll drop some poems here when I get home. I've made a few.

[TD1]

Yoink: that last strikes me more as a cool song!

Tomasque: I'm so sorry you're wandering lost and homeless

Me:
Thorns and berries.
That is what you are.
When the crisp winds blow
Through the barton yonder
You are the chill hard thing
Growing steady, growing green.

The tackle swelters in the shed
And oh! The wary finger's stung
In its attempt to pick the thing
Amongst your barbs.
Black, black as sleeping coal
But round and soft and firm -
The firmament
Is in your lustrous sheen.

Many times I recall
The venture down the hedge
To see your siblings growing proud.
I picked them then.
May I pick you?

[Tomasque]

Tomasque: I'm so sorry you're wandering lost and homeless

Oof. Made me laugh out loud. Here are the poems:

Spoiler: Memories of May (click to show/hide)

The autumn left
as boldly as it came;
upon the wind,
the winter calls my name.

As boldly as
a summer storm in May,
the winter calls
'til I cannot delay.

A summer storm!
I want the snow to melt,
'til I cannot
remember how it felt.

I want the snow
in other months, but here
remember how
a summer breeze is dear.
- - -
In other months,
upon the wind I'll find
a summer breeze
the autumn left behind.

Spoiler: Pyrphoros (click to show/hide)

The windows burn with private light.
The alley is below,
teeming;
whispers, covered,
in the smothered
night.

Voices hushed;
movements rushed.
Without restraint,
the artists make the mind's
dreaming
immortalized
in pressurized
paint.

Mural drawn:
bright as dawn,
to whom desire
that world of luxury's
seeming,
now seen within
Promethean
fire.

But from the highest windowpane,
accustomed to the light's
gleaming,
will the night be
one, unsightly
stain?

Spoiler: Isidora (click to show/hide)

When leaving behind
the marshes and mire,
the traveler's mind
has a single desire.

Arriving at last,
the city's before him.
He senses its vast
many wonders implore him.

He finds all the stairs
encrusted and tiled;
he finds all the fair
women plenty and wild.

It's all that he sought;
it's all he'd been dreaming,
and yet it is not
what at first it was seeming.

The city, in truth,
is that of a bolder
man, here in his youth;
he's arrived, now, much older.

A bench in the square.
When wonders denied them,
the old men sat there;
he is sitting beside them.

Alone and bereft,
they're lost in the mire.
Just memories left,
where had once been desire.

[TD1]

Nice! Pyrphoros is my fave of them.

The sun was burning bright as polished brass
Upon the bonnet of a failing car
Which churned into the spring-time's creeping grass
But never seemed to get it very far.
And I thought to myself, as I looked on from shade
That really, life is from such moments made.
----

My lonely sons upon the twisting road
My burning boys loosed on the road
Do not forget your father's passing road
Upon the lonely, burning road.

I loved you with a frost-like touch
Which thawed come spring and rain
And ever sought to keep you well,
Though doing so could bring you pain.

I taught you all I know of life
And fit the boots onto your feet.
I gave unto my boys the one same wife -
The spectre asphalt, winding street.

And now I think, for some strange reason
That I need to ask for your forgiveness.

But I am gone now, long, long gone
And you are young and strong.
Oh, go, my wayward boys, and walk the way
That saw my failing feet into the grave.

Do not look back. I will not wave.

((Don't worry, I know they're not my best.))