Constant noise tempts us like the sirens of old,
where we indulge and participate in a never silent world.
Words streamtogether as we quicklyspewthem
our mouths forgetting the space bar underneath our tongues.
How often I hear speeches to inspire us
Rattle on like some unwinding stream
as if it were a natural spring of thought
which would never cease to exist.
How often I hear complaints and inputs
at a quickened pace as metal music is to blues-
note after note after note after note
an array of sixteenth notes strung together with no room for rest.
How often we forget
that the strongest part of the message
the silence between the
Wow. I wish my experimental poetry was this good. I love how you play with grammar and words in a way that creates a visual artwork as well as the message it conveys. It reminds me of e.e. cummings. I am not sure if he is a huge inspiration for you but I have always envied the style because it is tough to pull off and you nailed it here.
I love this, especially the walk on hues tidbit and color blindness... because I am color blind and relate haha. Every aspect of this poem is wonderful. Great job! I feel as though you have progressed greatly over time!
Quote by Phazon
"The smell of your words..."

That sounds really really really really weird to me.

Smell. Words.

I just don't make that connection I dunno.

I loved the Smell of your words... it reminds me of a line from Steve Roggenbuck poem "make something beautiful before you are dead" which is " bring cookies and juice and we're gonna eat them both"

As for the poem, I thought it was great. You do a fantastic job of breaking away from cliche through little tweaks that is highly effective
I love this. I haven't been around for like a year and this is the poem I read first and now I feel as though my expectations are too high to read another.

The brilliance! I love your effects with the periods. "" and "st.ranger" were my particular favorites.

This Here.
This Now.
This Everywhere and Within.

This is the Moment.
What are you seeing?
What are you feeling?

"This(?)" is the question you must ask at every solitary this.

This - your Heart.
This - your Mind.
This - your Being.
This - This.

This is the point of Time that never will be.
This is the point of Time that never was.
This is This.

What to
do with
Thanks a ton for your review... the harsher the better. When I post on here these days, it means I feel like it is lacking.
Please give me honest criticisms. This will be for a meeting at work to practice public speaking and will be used as a performance piece. Let me know what you think! (C4C)

Edit Version:

If I were to paint a picture of my visions,
It would not consist of four walls and a roof.

It would consist of angles undefined~
I would paint the final frontier
and the interconnections
between the stars and you and I.

I would paint lines
-Mismatching Lines-
that would connect my arteries
to the horizon and allow the water
to flow through my mind

I would paint a rose
with myself curled up inside its silk-red blankets for warmth…
but I would trace the thorns; which drew my blood
as I failed and failed and failed again,
until my red trail seeped into the petals at the top.

I would paint grandeur-
stacked high with books
rather than apples.
I would paint all roads from Eden-
all ending in fields of roses-
embracing me with their warmth and violence.

I would paint infinity.
I would paint what it means to exist.
I would paint divine vision.
I would paint this.

Original Version:

If I were to paint a picture of my visions,
It would not consist of the room I stand in.
It would not consist of four walls and a roof.
It would not consist of tables, chairs, and pens.

It would consist of angles undefined~
I would see the final frontier
and the interconnections
between the stars and you and I.
I would draw a picture of lines

-Mismatching Lines-
that would connect my arteries
to the horizon and allow the water
to flow through my mind

I would paint a rose
with myself curled up inside its silk-red blankets for warmth…
but I would trace the thorns; which drew my blood
as I battled my way to the top.

I would paint life itself
and the painting would lack one seemingly important thing:

I would paint
I read and I hear many words
but too often those words are not but mere careless words.

I live for when the words mean something more.
I live for when the words tickle my tongue as I speak them.
I live for when the words perk up my ears as I hear them.
I live for when the words leap off the pages to hug my eyes.
I live for when the words take the hand of my brain for a dance in my cranial ballroom.
I live for when the words lift my body upon their wings and soar through the soul of the universe.

Those are the rare occasions that define life,
and as the words fritter away into the withering of time,
they leave me with the desire to join them.

You are the only human on Earth
who speaks with only the meaningful
and I must sit here and listen
as each word,
each last attempt of life,
forces itself through your vocal cords
until all that remains is death.
Quote by Aoh legend
I think you mean Calvary.

thank you both for your input. I agree the title is a bit revealing of the ending. I can change that to Tears On Cavalry... Cavalry being the hill of Jesus' crucifixion
Legend says Mary cried
upon these grounds
while she watched her son
march towards his death.

And there you are,
my love, my flower,
standing upon holy ground
planting your blessings.

The roots of your beauty
crawl up the mountainside.
I hear my footsteps
guide me to your petals.

Looking down upon you,
my Lily of the Valley,
I am lured to taste your tears
and die.
Quote by mr.******
i didn't get to see the first version but i like this version.

the metaphor may be a little obvious like hippieboy said but it takes a nice unexpected turn with the whole digging it up and throwing it through neighbor's window. i also like the ending.

thanks for sharing and any chance i could see the first version?

Sure, here is the first version:

Life doesn’t give you lemons;
you need to plant them,
water them,
fertilize them,
and ripen them yourself.
-and sometimes it won’t work-
Sometimes bugs will eat them,
        damn fruit flies.
Sometimes the lemon just will not ripen.
Sometimes the winter will destroy the tree,
        so try not to plant it in the north.
Sometimes, you may have forgotten to fertilize it.

So go ahead and plant your lemon tree.
It will be worth it when you drink
that first fine glass
of home-made
Thanks, I knew this needed work and wanted to get some feedback and you hit the nails on the head!

I edited it and would appreciate your thoughts on the new version.

Life doesn’t give you lemons;
you need to plant them,
water them,
fertilize them,
and ripen them yourself.
-and sometimes it won’t work-
Sometimes bugs will eat them,
	damn fruit flies.
Sometimes the lemons just will not ripen.
Sometimes the winter will destroy the tree,
	so try not to plant it in the north.
Sometimes you may drunkenly stroll over to it and dig the tree out of the ground and throw 
it through the neighbor’s window because your wife had an affair with him and you felt like 
sending a “strong” –very alpha male- message, that ultimately backfired as you got sued for 
vandalism… and then lost all the rest of your money through divorce.
	Maybe that one is just me.

So go ahead and plant your lemon tree.
You may be surprised by what you use it for.
Quote by culex-knight
Don't know if I like the somewhat explicit "to you."

Otherwise, <3.

I second this motion. I found it a little bit odd and unusual for you to include something a bit unnecessary as it would be assumed anyway. I can see how it might add some other direction by specifically saying you mean something to others somewhere else, maybe as a shot to her. I just think it is either over-thought or under-thought.

But yeah, great work on the poem
Sounds like an interesting idea to me
I may be stupid, but I am unsure as to what the message is. Is it about resisting growing up or conforming to society?

I would perhaps expand upon it and add a middle verse that brings in more detail.
I like the context here, and the poem/story definitely manages to pull in the reader and capture his/her/its? attention. I also loved the part where you messed with the word "remembered" although I think that part would have been even more powerful if what followed it played on the word "red" a bit. Perhaps shifting to another matching color "and blue ... "

            My own                         						your
           h      								            h
          ea								                    ea
          rt                    							    rt

         is 				p  s					              o
					e  e					              ve
       o				r   p					               r
      ve				m   a
       r				a    r
					n     a					               h
					e      t  				               er
      h					n       i					       e.
     er					t        o
      e -     				          n

				rivers er-       -ng skin cells
			of tears,			carving valleys
		Two sets					on our faces.
			    When will the canyons be finished?
thanks Eccer. It is a work in progress, but more in the style of Pipeline
You know, countless hundreds and hundreds of billions of years ago, some star -a soul- , somewhere in the universe brewed all the necessary ingredients for life and exploded

and after years of quantum mechanics taking a magical foothold on these strange particles, forming crimson stars and exploding limpid stars and forming large chunks of ice, rocks, black holes, planets ... and even more stars into the solar system,

Earth began to form and due to the uncanny coincidences and improbabilities of all the asteroids hitting (and missing) Earth at the exact right times, it began to form the heart of life.

All the star-stuff generated within a time lost into the infinities of time and space, began to form its greatest creation as years of violence, droughts, floods, volcanic ash, and earthquake were but a prerequisite to years of food, of water, of beautiful survival and eventually after this long process sprouting out fishes and reptiles and birds and ... mammals. We started to come along and make love to establish our never-forgotten footprint in the universe -& the multiverse.

Then humans traveled across the globe breeding and inhabiting in all the far reaches of the Earth until, a century ago, my grandfather came off a boat from Ireland.

And down through his line, I spawned and my entire life, I spent wandering the world. Researching, learning, loving, and feeling - and perpetually doing. Through heartbreaks and failures (and loves and successes) all permanently changing the course of my life to make this one moment, a seeming - infinitesimally small - chance of impossibility... an inevitable destiny to be fulfilled...

now we do the sex.
freedom ever anything more
than to be free to love her?"

Awesome line. I thought this poem was very well written and flowed nicely. The ending gave me a nice giggle as well. This could correlate to The Revolutionary War where France helped America against England... but could also correlate to WWII where America went into France physically and then became the dominant world power, replacing England.

Either way, I like it.
vintage, I love how you organize your poems so effectively. The structure of your verses really paces this well and adds to the quirky nature of the poem. Also the recurring usage of "hello" was a very nice touch and gave a whole new meaning to the word at the end. Thanks for sharing.


What once was stolen,

shall always be returned.
Thank you, this was the first time I ever experimented with punctuation in this type of manner so I was just kinda throwing shit at the wall and frankly I wasn't feeling it too much either. I figured I would post and see what people said.

My personal edit looks like this:

Must I draw everything out for you
so you can see my words in visions?

I refuse like a –…||
Personally I like this because it is almost like a physical wall, as well as stopping a train of thought.

Well, that doesn’t matter much. Does it?
How I refuse.

All that matters is: I do.

Now go away, my “>lovE>”
Before I betray you again
Congrats on WotW

Definitel deserving of it
I liked the style, the mashingofwordstogether, the spacing, etc. It really gave the piece a nice disjointed feel about it which fits the message of the poem itself. The references to Nazi Germany were good, although I agree with the assessment of the Hitler line previously mentioned. I particularly loved "reicht".

However, I will say the constant references to Nazi Germany made me begin to question whether it was you or the narrator who had cancer and compared its spread to Nazi Germany or if you were saying Nazi Germany was a cancer. I don't know if that made sense or not. But the focus of the poem became unclear to me, at least.
Must I draw everything out for you/
So you can see my words in visions??

I refuse like a –…||

Well, that doesn’t matter much. Does it?
--/ How I refuse.

All that matters is :: I do.

|} Now go away, my “>lovE>”
Before I betray you again
Quote by hippieboy444
derp. my bad.

it is your bad. and you are a ***** because of it.
When you repeated the word "asunder" I was thinking, such an odd word to happen to come up twice in a poem... this had to be done on purpose.

And then I continued reading and saw you continue to mimic the first verses.

It gave a great effect to the poem of "layering and circling" and made me feel as though I went in a circle, yet somehow this circle is not the same circle I was in before.

I liked the works man!
Yeah, I think I remember people using manifest as well frequently... I have to find a way to use the word flibbertigibbet... hands down, most poetic never-used word. Vonnegut used it in Slaughterhouse-Five and my first reaction was: I must find a way to use that in everyday talk.
disparate.... I have seen this word so many times on poetry forums in the past month... it is like the word of the month meow. Maybe I should write a poem about the frequency of which disparate has appeared.

That aside... you have a great way of capturing emotion in such few words. This is one of the things that makes you a brilliant poet and an inspiration to many others.

Who are your favorite poets?
this is a great poem. I particularly love when people experiment with grammar and spacing... something I haven't truly tried yet.

Question: How did you get this to give you the exact spacing? I tried posting a poem like so but the spacing was the point of it and that was obliterated... which obliterated the meaning of the poem itself. What is the code?
Quote by hippieboy444
this is a great example of the prose getting in the way of the poetry. everything in this piece is stated and not shown or illustrated, which is a fatal flaw in poems. this is not to say that you have to be abstract and non-declarative to write poems; but rather, i don't think a poem can really stand on its own if all it is doing is moving the story along, so to speak. with this piece, i feel that way: all the moves you make move us down the path but without stopping to admire the flowers, or the views, or the complexities of such a journey. this reads like a narrative more than an expression of a narrative (can i even say that?), and i think it falls in on itself because it lacks an awareness of what surrounds the narrative.

jesus. hope that makes sense.

but even more, there's a lot of weak work choice here. many of your phrases and words don't seem deliberate, or they don't elicit the effect that i feel you're trying to elicit. other times, you come out and simply state what's going on, a la "let the thoughts flow." that's an extremely weak way to express such an idea. you could paint an image, or evoke a scene, or a feeling that comes from such a state: to announce that idea so obviously feels like we've crept up upon some rare animal sleeping and then you barge in with a megaphone. perhaps more tact and deftness to the phrases and words could tighten this up.

i apologize if this comes across overly harsh. i don't mean to demean your writing or you nor your ideas. as well, feel free to tell me to fu.c.k off. it's just my opinion. maybe i don't love it, but that doesn't matter if you do.

thanks for the read. cheers.

Hmmm... agree to disagree

I do appreciate your criticism, I have been experimenting with styles, and this was one of those experiments... perhaps a failed experiment

Or maybe the style just doesn't connect with you... who knows? That is what I find so wonderful about poetry.
Crack my knuckles.
Crack ‘em twice.

Loosen the fingers.
Let my thoughts flow

Guide me! Guide me!
guide me through tragedy.

I am in love.
In love with the darkness.

And I live my story –
Within this and only this.
Does it actually reference Catcher in the Rye in any way... I have never read it nor do I know what it is about either. I just don't seem to be grasping what the "dream" actually is describing. To me, it feels like you are referencing something (likely the book) in some way that is over my head.

That being said, I find this to be a rather beautiful poem. It has nice diction and I like how you pull the humming back into the equation later on.

Also... What is the Code you are using and what is it doing? I posted a poem recently called Overplayed... And I cannot get it to replicate the spacing in my word doc at all.
It is the progression of a relationship between myself and a woman.

Unfortunately it doesn't have the spacing I used in my word doc. And I don't know how to make that work here
(The underscores represent empty space in the poem.... I couldn't get it to replicate my word doc)

June 21st, 2009
We make our way to our table for two
A second date _________ something special
Is brewing between us _____ I feel it when
You start to talk. You say a few words and
Then you stop.
_______________ A slight pause before
You continue on with the rest of your sentence

During that slight ___________ Hesitation
I feel your thoughts brush my heart
Dusting it off __________ Making it clean and whole and
Fresh again…


August 12th, 2009
“Happy Birthday my _________ birthday boy.”
You flutter your eyes as you move in to
And you move your body against mine
You begin to remove my ________ And I
- I remove your _______ And we

__________Our first time

June 9th, 2010
A year has passed since we had our first date
The smell of __________ roasted duck
_____ Fuels the air with a scent of
______________________ Reminiscence




October 3rd, 2011
Get it….. ___________________ OUT
I just want to finish your sentence when
You pause. ______ I am
____________________ Annoyed

May 10th, 2012
“I can’t ________ I just can’t ________ Believe you!”
I managed to roll my eyes five times during each
_______________ Intermission
So what? It is clear we can’t have fun anymore.
We throw a party ________ and end up yelling
______ I make up with you,
_______________ The only way I know how

____________ Our last time

May 13th, 2013
I make my way downstairs with my bags
One look back ___________ Even a second look
I see the tears start ______________ Your pretty
_____ Blue eyes ________ start with just one stripe
Tracing down your cheek.
____________ And then a flood soars down your face
You continue… silently… no words are needed

Your sadness told me everything and yet
_____I feel empty __________ Emotionless

What I once found adorable has now been

___________________________ Overplayed
Thank you! Yeah I am not too satisfied with this poem and I got frustrated because I wanted to expand it but then I dropped it haha