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the scent of light - Printable Version +- CDBZ Archive (http://alex.zulenka.com) +-- Forum: Out of Character Forums (http://alex.zulenka.com/forumdisplay.php?fid=8) +--- Forum: The Legendary Asylum (http://alex.zulenka.com/forumdisplay.php?fid=133) +---- Forum: Workshop (http://alex.zulenka.com/forumdisplay.php?fid=32) +---- Thread: the scent of light (/showthread.php?tid=5758) |
the scent of light - Vegeta - 11-02-2005 ignore spelling errors, they are not errors. ---- the blueberries push through their skin light shines from our bone, the crystalline smoke forms to hide these mountains your smile forms to hide the truth that truth i always knew but never believed, your true intent of apostasy the true intent of my words and these poems these poems of rain, of sand and concrete. these words i spin into delicate weavings, weavings you wear so warmly the scarf to hide a scar i threw everything i had ever created into this wishing well, yet my wishes were not granted, i was left without my cause and without my roots one quick gust and the snow will fall your tears will fall we traded shells upon this golden grain, lost homes and broken things you were never interested in these things, you never saw the complexity of the simple my life was always the complexity of the simple, the breath of the painter, the dream of the writer. maybe i would travel south for a winter, the frozen earth kills all seedlings i've woke up as a corpse, as daring life lacking soul, in search of something storybook i've found these children's books of complexities, things we'd never learn "How to Love" i never believe capital letters, they are not as important as they lead me to believe, they claim to be leaders, they claim to be strong but they crumble and fall just as easily as i do. i can never be any more then what you see me to be. i am what you see me to be and i can never be anything more unless you let me be. i hate to be shackled by you, by anyone, by clouds clouds that taunt these plants, these school children with false promise of snow, purity that is never seen, purity fowled by uncertainity melted by this careful puzzle these cold ice run through my vein, the ones that still work the sounds you made, your mouth spoke in color, green green grass, bone white and the blue of those jays. it would be simple to scream. shake my hand and say goodbye, you never really mean it. i'm always right behind and you are writing letters. letters to some far off lover, a lover made of glass. the bronze glow of her eyes. turn off the lights one more time. you say you've bled to feel alive, but i know that blood does not make life. you're just a coward, blood you hide behind turtlenecks. i can see the scars from your gils. gils from your life as a fish. of majestic luminosity. the silencing of your stripes. one day you will rise from your bed asleep. you will not call and you will not write. one day you will leave his town. the phone never rings. we never speak. this isn't something i'd call love. i would call it richard. we live in this state of richard. we are alternating train wreck. box up what you still need to read and we'll drive to the cabin. the cabin you first spoke to me. "i am darkness but i am here. if you ever need to find me then close your eyes." you were adamant in your search for leafs. maple, fir and stone. you read stories to trees, because they could not hurt you. not like i could. you were not a paramedic, and you could not heal us. this is not a rain storm of us, this is a rain storm of all. we are all alive. aren't we? the river flows west and our blood pumps incessantly. rain falls from the sky and rain falls from our eyes... but do we ask why? Why? i could never answer the questions, i was too scared to be wrong, i can't be wrong about something so simple. if i were, how could i be right about the gravity of your words. the tastes of this memory. do we really remember or do i just dream? we become ashes and feed the things we love. the things that really live. stars and mars. the matter of being proper. property is nothing to the dead, and nothing to the powerful. truth be told if i could speak. this love is more then my blood. there is more blood to be had, but not more love like this. flowers bloom in our radius. dreams that have not been dreamt are always the most vivid. stunningly vivid. indescribably vivid. i've seen you painting, huddled over a canvas of white, starch white sky you paint. we watched the sunrise from my roof. nothing has ever appeared with such effect. such vivid esteem. except your umbrella. the day i saw you. color in a sea of black suits. i found you and explained my life "I've got problems, I cannot dream at night." you frowned and told me that it was of no importance. dreams can come out in plenty of ways, life is a dream you scream. i love the way you speak about your dreams, i took a train through them, a window with a seat and a view i would never forget. i always forget. we would not change since that day, your hair was now red and my eyes were now darker. bend my writing and read my paint. brush strokes of words and paragraphs of paint. what do your fingertips see in me? you touch my face while i bum a smoke. the scent of your fingernail breaks through the cigarette. cherry red or bubblegum. the label from a bottle clings to broken glass, the way i cling to you. romance was never my best subject. the scent of light - Hellfighter 17 - 11-02-2005 Wow. This has to be the most thought-provoking of your pieces I've read to date. You are very crafty with metaphors, simply amazing about entangling them together. It touched on soem of the things that I am very adament about how I view them, which always helps grasp a reader. I'm trying to think of something bad about it, but it's pretty hard. Nice job. the scent of light - Ashe - 11-02-2005 You shouldn't smoke *slap* Otherwise, its good. the scent of light - Kaden - 11-02-2005 No, he shouldn't drink. >.> the scent of light - Vegeta - 11-03-2005 Quote:Originally posted by Hell Fighter 17 thankssss. you said it was thought-provoking, what kinds of things did it make you think? i'm curious the scent of light - Android-18 - 11-03-2005 It had good imagery, to form images in someones mind, by your choice of words. You used words to invoke the 5 senses. My only problem is I'm not a fan of long things, and after a while the effect of the poem felt less great. Of course, I feel like shit now so maybe that's just me. It's a good style. the scent of light - Vegeta - 11-03-2005 Quote:Originally posted by Android-18 thanks a bunch. i know it's long, i don't know if you've read any of my other works but they are not usually this long. this is probably the longest thing i've written and a while, and plus it's spaced out to be long. but if that's your only problem, then awesome. thanks again for the feedback. the scent of light - Android-18 - 11-03-2005 I'm a fan of writing confusing poems, for the writer there is hidden reason, while the reader can only guess at the true meaning. Playing with words is great ^^. the scent of light - Hellfighter 17 - 11-03-2005 Quote:Originally posted by KoolaMainly stuff I've contemplated before. I won't say which parts made me think of what, but if you ask me I can say later. Such would be why I or others hide behind words. We think of them as being a sign of such romance, and myself have fled to them I admit, but I think that words and peoms and stories are more commonly used as shields, especially love poems to another, and I basically thought of hwy that is. Also, I thought of why we make ourselves give more care than what care is due to others, which leads to us denying how things really are simply for our shot at happiness. That's all I remember right now, but I'm pretty sur eif I read it again I can pick out more, and I probably will later. the scent of light - Vegeta - 11-03-2005 Please do share it. Let me know what they say. the scent of light - Old Dave - 11-03-2005 crazy mofo...word. the scent of light - Vegeta - 12-08-2005 Quote:Originally posted by Dodoria did that ever happen? the scent of light - Hellfighter 17 - 12-08-2005 Is there anyw ay you can put that into stanzas, and I might present it in class, since we have to do an interpretation of a peom for the unit we're doing. the scent of light - Vegeta - 12-09-2005 is that stanza'd enough? --- the blueberries push through their skin light shines from our bone, the crystalline smoke forms to hide these mountains your smile forms to hide the truth that truth i always knew but never believed, your true intent of apostasy the true intent of my words and these poems these poems of rain, of sand and concrete. these words i spin into delicate weavings, weavings you wear so warmly the scarf to hide a scar i threw everything i had ever created into this wishing well, yet my wishes were not granted, i was left without my cause and without my roots one quick gust and the snow will fall your tears will fall we traded shells upon this golden grain, lost homes and broken things you were never interested in these things, you never saw the complexity of the simple my life was always the complexity of the simple, the breath of the painter, the dream of the writer. maybe i would travel south for a winter, the frozen earth kills all seedlings i've woke up as a corpse, as daring life lacking soul, in search of something storybook i've found these children's books of complexities, things we'd never learn "How to Love? i never believe capital letters, they are not as important as they lead me to believe, they claim to be leaders, they claim to be strong but they crumble and fall just as easily as i do. i can never be any more then what you see me to be. i am what you see me to be and i can never be anything more unless you let me be. i hate to be shackled by you, by anyone, by clouds clouds that taunt these plants, these school children with false promise of snow, purity that is never seen, purity fowled by uncertainty melted by this careful puzzle these cold ice run through my vein, the ones that still work the sounds you made, your mouth spoke in color, green green grass, bone white and the blue of those jays. it would be simple to scream. shake my hand and say goodbye, you never really mean it. i'm always right behind and you are writing letters. letters to some far off lover, a lover made of glass. the bronze glow of her eyes. turn off the lights one more time. you say you've bled to feel alive, but i know that blood does not make life. you're just a coward, blood you hide behind turtlenecks. i can see the scars from your gils. gils from your life as a fish. of majestic luminosity. the silencing of your stripes. one day you will rise from your bed asleep. you will not call and you will not write. one day you will leave his town. the phone never rings. we never speak. this isn't something i'd call love. i would call it richard. we live in this state of richard. we are alternating train wreck. box up what you still need to read and we'll drive to the cabin. the cabin you first spoke to me. "i am darkness but i am here. if you ever need to find me then close your eyes." you were adamant in your search for leafs. maple, fir and stone. you read stories to trees, because they could not hurt you. not like i could. you were not a paramedic, and you could not heal us. this is not a rain storm of us, this is a rain storm of all. we are all alive. aren't we? the river flows west and our blood pumps incessantly. rain falls from the sky and rain falls from our eyes... but do we ask why? Why? i could never answer the questions, i was too scared to be wrong, i can't be wrong about something so simple. if i were, how could i be right about the gravity of your words. the tastes of this memory. do we really remember or do i just dream? we become ashes and feed the things we love. the things that really live. stars and mars. the matter of being proper. property is nothing to the dead, and nothing to the powerful. truth be told if i could speak. this love is more then my blood. there is more blood to be had, but not more love like this. flowers bloom in our radius. dreams that have not been dreamt are always the most vivid. stunningly vivid. indescribably vivid. i've seen you painting, huddled over a canvas of white, starch white sky you paint. we watched the sunrise from my roof. nothing has ever appeared with such effect. such vivid esteem. except your umbrella. the day i saw you. color in a sea of black suits. i found you and explained my life "I've got problems, I cannot dream at night." you frowned and told me that it was of no importance. dreams can come out in plenty of ways, life is a dream you scream. i love the way you speak about your dreams, i took a train through them, a window with a seat and a view i would never forget. i always forget. we would not change since that day, your hair was now red and my eyes were now darker. bend my writing and read my paint. brush strokes of words and paragraphs of paint. what do your fingertips see in me? you touch my face while i bum a smoke. the scent of your fingernail breaks through the cigarette. cherry red or bubblegum. the label from a bottle clings to broken glass, the way i cling to you. romance was never my best subject. the scent of light - Hellfighter 17 - 12-09-2005 I hope so; I'm going to force whoever my partner is to do this one, I just hoep we can choose form any poem rather than the list she gives us. |