NationStates Jolt Archive

Within the tears
of Joy
Of the pain
Within the tears
Of the smiles
of the way. I want you.

Of the way we love us.
of me my love.
of you.

For Joanna:

Your jim.

Bumping my own thread. Sad.

I still love you Roan

Jim

so do we just post poems here or somthing?

so do we just post poems here or somthing?

Look in the archives. This will be at least the third thead for poets.Catterpillars was first.

Jim SC

Within the tears
of Joy
Of the pain
Within the tears
Of the smiles
of the way. I want you.

Of the way we love us.
of me my love.
of you.

For Joanna:

Your jim.I applaud your use of an alternative syntax structure, I've never been fond of breaking gramatic rules in poetry or writing without a justification though.

I read the haikus
in the archives of nationstates
They, were, like, real bad.
:P

[quote=Big Jim P]Within the tears
of Joy
Of the pain
Within the tears
Of the smiles
of the way. I want you.

Of the way we love us.
of me my love.
of you.

For Joanna:

Your jim.I applaud your use of an alternative syntax structure, I've never been fond of breaking gramatic rules in poetry or writing without a justification though.[/quote


Brreaking the rules are how we create the new language.

And My poetry will be free.

Just as the love in the first post


http://www.angelfire.com/tx6/jimp/images/Picture_20.jpg
Ave Satanis!
Rege Satanis!
Hail Satan!

Big Jim P!
SC!

http://www.magickalshadow.com/daca/

http://www.shelterfordarkness.com/dadv/index.html

[quote=Big Jim P]Within the tears
of Joy
Of the pain
Within the tears
Of the smiles
of the way. I want you.

Of the way we love us.
of me my love.
of you.

For Joanna:

Your jim.I applaud your use of an alternative syntax structure, I've never been fond of breaking gramatic rules in poetry or writing without a justification though.[/quote


Brreaking the rules are how we create the new language.

And My poetry will be free.

Just as the love in the first post


http://www.angelfire.com/tx6/jimp/images/Picture_20.jpg
Ave Satanis!
Rege Satanis!
Hail Satan!

Big Jim P!
SC!

http://www.magickalshadow.com/daca/

http://www.shelterfordarkness.com/dadv/index.htmlYes, but in doing so there must be a deliberate purposes. Just as you do not create new words simply to create the world's longest word, you do not defy convention just to defy it.

2x Post

So can you acquirificate a dictionary and definicise the words "deliberate purpose"? Perhaps the author wanted to pointiferizate out a specific emotionaticus or feelingatica.

OUTSIDE

Into your eyes I could fall,
For eternety under the grasp of Gravity.

I could be lost in your soul,
Engulfed by the swirling vortex of passion within.

I could be drowned in your ocean of love,
Being hit by wave after wave of affection and attention.

Yet I am on the outside looking in,
Always contemplating the "what if's" and what not.

All I seek is the opertunity,
That one chance
To be swept up in that vortex,
To dive into that ocean,
To fall into that infinate expanse of your eyes.

Yet I am on the outside looking in,
Forever unable to find the key to the door that is your heart.
So on the outside I shall stay
Until that day
When you bring me in out of the desolate plains upon which I now reside.

-for all those out there who cannot always say what they feel

]Yes, but in doing so there must be a deliberate purposes. Just as you do not create new words simply to create the world's longest word, you do not defy convention just to defy it.[/quote

I think that the original poem said it All.

Jim

So can you acquirificate a dictionary and definicise the words "deliberate purpose"? Perhaps the author wanted to pointiferizate out a specific emotionaticus or feelingatica."A purpose that is deliberate or intentional". I'll ignore what is your pathetic attempt at humour.

poetry is not for other people. it is for yourself; to express yourself in a artistic manor.

poetry is not for other people. it is for yourself; to express yourself in a artistic manor.

manner.

right. i can't spell.

what, no other creative writers out there?

So can you acquirificate a dictionary and definicise the words "deliberate purpose"? Perhaps the author wanted to pointiferizate out a specific emotionaticus or feelingatica."A purpose that is deliberate or intentional". I'll ignore what is your pathetic attempt at humour.

I was using it to make a point, maybe you didn't pick up on that. The English language is constantly changing, words are made and used by people, not defined by a dictionary or any book that tells you how a language is SOPPOSED to be written/spoken. Especially because poetry is such a personal artform, it should be written in a personal manner, showing the speech of his mind.

A language is defined by the people who speak it, new words spring up every day and can be accepted by the speakers of those words. There is no reason to inhibit that, it's the evolution of the language. Admittedly, one should remain coherant and understandable to the rest of the world, especially on a written medium because of the lack of emotion displayed by black and white texts, which is why there is a standardized form of the English language. However, the feeling and understanding in poetry comes less from the grammatical structure and more from the tone and emotion conveyed by the sounds strung together.

You can continue to ignore my "pathetic attempt at humor". I'll try to be less deep and subtle in my future postings so you can better understand it, okay?

Bump. I get the feeling that there are some really eloquent poets out here.

Here's an older one of mine:

Insurance Salesman’s Epiphany


In November, sugarcane farmers love
to see their fields in flames, burning
as if Satan himself had lit the match
that turns the highway from Opelousas
to Baton Rouge into a greasy fog
dense as my tenth grade youth pastor.
I drove through after a day of separating
old folks from insurance premiums
and my conscience from my eardrums.

Traffic backed up into St. Landry parish,
two miles west of hell,
ninety east of a bitchy wife,
and a state trooper told me
the burn jumped into the woods,
so careful, and the smoke’ll clear around Lejeune.

I did five miles in forty-five minutes
and passed the cane fields and forests
that spewed smoke like happy demons,
shoulders hunched over the steering wheel,
and even though my eyes had a death lock
on the faint pink tail lights of the car ahead,
I saw, through the haze of burn and anxiety,
the trees, glowing orange like old martyrs.

Here's an older one of mine:

Insurance Salesman’s Epiphany


In November, sugarcane farmers love
to see their fields in flames, burning
as if Satan himself had lit the match
that turns the highway from Opelousas
to Baton Rouge into a greasy fog
dense as my tenth grade youth pastor.
I drove through after a day of separating
old folks from insurance premiums
and my conscience from my eardrums.

Traffic backed up into St. Landry parish,
two miles west of hell,
ninety east of a bitchy wife,
and a state trooper told me
the burn jumped into the woods,
so careful, and the smoke’ll clear around Lejeune.

I did five miles in forty-five minutes
and passed the cane fields and forests
that spewed smoke like happy demons,
shoulders hunched over the steering wheel,
and even though my eyes had a death lock
on the faint pink tail lights of the car ahead,
I saw, through the haze of burn and anxiety,
the trees, glowing orange like old martyrs.
Have you seen the Masyles Bros film Salesman? It's one of the verte or direct cinema movies of the sixties about door to door bible salesmen. Quality.

Not that that is an insight into your poem or anything...

o-or anything to do with it directly...



I do think it's cool....





I think this is why people stopped showing me thier poetry....

I was just introduced to the Maysles a couple of days ago with "Grey Gardens." Dude, that was some fucked up shit right there. Big Edie and Little Edie are some scary folks. I want to see some more of their docu work, so I'll check out the one you mentioned.

I was just introduced to the Maysles a couple of days ago with "Grey Gardens." Dude, that was some f--- up shit right there. Big Edie and Little Edie are some scary folks. I want to see some more of their docu work, so I'll check out the one you mentioned.
They make Willie Loman look like nothin'....The first time I saw it I had to be convinced it wasn't a narrative. (Though I had just watched a fake out of that nature, so I was a little sensetive.) It's the film that got me into doing docs. My attempt to immitate that style fell flat on it's face doing gamers, but ah well.

bump.

This is a piece a wrote about a year back when I was feeling a little... ah... well, just read it.

Why’d you stop at a red light, let me hit you doing eighty?
You just used your face and put a dent in my Mercedes.
I’m just gonna need the cash you would’ve used to pay for rent,
To call my three mechanics, to fix this freaking dent.
Oh what, you file a 'suit ‘cuz you think that it’s not fair?
Well, I’ve got two lawyers, and I’m just too rich to care.
Now I see, you’re Chinese? Now you get “the chair!”
Why you on the road? Do they drive cars over there?
What the hell, you know you can’t be smarter than me,
Though you work real hard, pulling A’s for all my D’s.
And when I’m old and broke, singin' the same tune,
How you Chinese steal the jobs, and take up all the room.
It’s because of you that I can’t make ends meet!
As a teen I was so rich, now I beg for food to eat.