Welcome Guest [Log In] [Register]
Welcome to The Fictional Woods. We hope you enjoy your visit.


You're currently viewing our forum as a guest. This means you are limited to certain areas of the board and there are some features you can't use. If you join our community, you'll be able to access member-only sections, and use many member-only features such as customizing your profile, sending personal messages, and voting in polls. Registration is simple, fast, and completely free.


Join our community!


If you're already a member please log in to your account to access all of our features:

Username:   Password:
Add Reply
Some new Poems
Topic Started: Jul 8 2011, 08:53 PM (6,270 Views)
Thomas Hounds
Member Avatar
Apprentice Sith Lord
[ *  *  *  *  *  * ]
Some have a home, some don't. I have three to share. Two have been placed in my second book of poetry, (which I'm about 30% of the way through with) the third is brand new and I'm unsure of where to place it, or even if it's worth placing somewhere. I'm kind of weird and nerdy with my references. I even wrote one poem that starts off describing a scene in conjunction to the destruction of several bosses from Zelda: Ocarina of Time and then went on to start writing about Osama Bin Laden.

The Picture Over the Bed

One week in Tucson. For conferences on post-
war Japanese Literature. The hotel room
is dark; the paneling is dark, the thin
starched sheets are dark, the lampshades
yellowed. But the TV is new and loud,
and the air conditioner is brilliant, the Schopenhauer
of its species, powering subarctic temperatures
in the midst of mid-July Arizona.
This hotel room is the companion
of this loner who doesn’t engage in the drinking/camaraderie.

The picture on wall depicts a
lone wolf, a coat of dust baked
onto its fur by the sun, the image
snapped at the moment it howled to the desert—
howl, howl, howl, don’t change on me.
I hear it in my dreams, where I’m lost, disoriented,
the disheveled stars in my sight, saguaros on the horizon
and search in the emptiness for the howler
and realize that I am the wolf; it is my cry.


A True Song of Innocence

“You can’t do anything” he says, rubbing blood into his face
to treasure the scent of it. “There’s nothing like the fear
of a friend—who asks for help and is scared to see
what help looks like. Can you run? Run run run away?”
He lifts his hand, his face streaked darkly, “I doubt it.”
The boy with the smooth, round face backs off from him,
avoiding a severed arm and the remnants of a human
eye. “Come on. I’m what you want to be: careless,
unfettered by the existences of others—I’m innocent,
that’s what innocence is after all, cold brutality
that has nothing to do with right or wrong—I’m perfect.”
One hand hanging limp, rocking at his side, the other
half covering his face and airy grin, he slinks toward
the boy.
______“Do you want my confidence?”

*Underscore to keep spacing from being messed up.

Captain

Ride a pillar of
flame into midnight blue
sky—the kind of greatness
that only money can buy;
I want my two dollars,
storming like a hurricane
like tears in spring rain:
I want to be bad,
everything I’m not…is
everything I want to be.

Unmarried at fourteen,
unloved at seventeen,
at the edge of the point
when one becomes a diagram
of annotated influences,
an accidentally carved statue
frozen in defiance of the spirit.

Give me a drink of
ultra-divine water and let
me take over and rule.
Life will make you shoot
your eye out. Wear a glass eye.
A mirror for the world.
Offline Profile Quote Post Goto Top
 
Deleted User
Deleted User

I really like the last one, Jake, :) .

Why don't you post your haiku sequence? It's my favorite thing out of everything you ever sent me.
Quote Post Goto Top
 
Deleted User
Deleted User

Or the magnolia/azalea one?
Quote Post Goto Top
 
Thomas Hounds
Member Avatar
Apprentice Sith Lord
[ *  *  *  *  *  * ]
I'll go for the more personal, but in need of more tweaking, Septets for the Dead Prince sequence, which is more eastern than my haiku's, in my opinion.

Septets for the Dead Prince

A wary Seraph
slipped and crashed
out of the dogwood in bloom.
It broke its left
wrist, a clumsy snap.
Afraid of heights,
a careless child.

At nights he hid
from the dark,
a green rubber snake
—a replica of Satan—
wielded as a whip.
Cerberus sat grumpily
at the bedside.

Bamboo, thick like
tapioca, crying with
early morning dew.
To hide there
from God, from
multiplication tables;
inner-city Jungle.

Blackened barefoot feet
trot along summer asphalt
with slushy popsicles, their
condensation dripping, sizzling
on the road, hot as Barbara Eden.
The summer of the rat-
eating pythons.

It rains. Water rises.
Streets become canals,
murky waters lapping
with oaks leaves
and grass clippings.
Wade on through,
go play Spyro.

Perched high in the magnolias
he dithers with a flute,
some fearless Cylon.
The songbirds cry
and then die, old
desires dropped and broken,
buried in the gravel.

He is the last knight
of Hyrule, with his
giant sword of fire—
his power is the space
between the triangles.
The bonfire gleams
in the shadows of his eyes.

Infatuated with pocketknives
and the sight of his own
blood, he splatters it over
the skeletal sink basin.
He loves to splash in
puddles after the rain,
hopscotch with bandaged hands.

The Barking Dog Symphony
comes on at night.
It wards off villains,
who flee, their capes
fluttering behind them.
He wants to learn to fight:
1001 ways to kill.

How does one love
a world that cannot
love back; held
like a pencil,
people write their
opinions all over
your face. With sharpies.

It was a battle
of water, unceasing,
against rock. Aged, it
was left soft and silty.
The valley grew outward,
thick with trees. A city
emerged: houses and streetlamps.

He studied German by moonlight.
He went to school.
His heart said:
all this work will leave
you empty in the end.
Wahrscheinlich könnte dass sein
aber, glaube ich? Glaube ich?

So, then, buy him a house
for his soul. A house
that is sterile and framed
in medication and silicon.
Deep, deep in the light
of time. There is no
innocence in the rock.
Offline Profile Quote Post Goto Top
 
Deleted User
Deleted User

Thomas Hounds
Jul 8 2011, 09:11 PM
a green rubber snake
Speaking of rubber snakes:

http://s11.zetaboards.com/thefictionalwoods/single/?p=8052750&t=785217

LOL
Quote Post Goto Top
 
Thomas Hounds
Member Avatar
Apprentice Sith Lord
[ *  *  *  *  *  * ]
Liam
Jul 8 2011, 09:25 PM
Thomas Hounds
Jul 8 2011, 09:11 PM
a green rubber snake
Speaking of rubber snakes:

http://s11.zetaboards.com/thefictionalwoods/single/?p=8052750&t=785217

LOL
that's a wonderful observation Liam.
Offline Profile Quote Post Goto Top
 
Deleted User
Deleted User

Hands off, cock-monger. It's mine, :P . I've already decided which novel I'm putting it in...
Quote Post Goto Top
 
Thomas Hounds
Member Avatar
Apprentice Sith Lord
[ *  *  *  *  *  * ]
Liam
Jul 8 2011, 09:28 PM
Hands off, cock-monger. It's mine, :P . I've already decided which novel I'm putting it in...
I didn't know you were writing a novel. Heh. You always talk about your creative spark isn't very active.
Offline Profile Quote Post Goto Top
 
Deleted User
Deleted User

I am obviously joking with you, :) . I might finally finish my historical novella this year, with God's help, but no novels on the horizon just yet.

I'm surprised at the speed with which you're spewing them out, :P .
Quote Post Goto Top
 
Thomas Hounds
Member Avatar
Apprentice Sith Lord
[ *  *  *  *  *  * ]
Liam
Jul 8 2011, 09:55 PM
I am obviously joking with you, :) . I might finally finish my historical novella this year, with God's help, but no novels on the horizon just yet.

I'm surprised at the speed with which you're spewing them out, :P .
Not fast enough...I have so many other ones I'd like pursue. It's taking discipline just to stay focused and finish the one I'm on.
Offline Profile Quote Post Goto Top
 
Deleted User
Deleted User

Why don't you turn them into short stories instead? I have a feeling this would give you more range and momentary focus.
Quote Post Goto Top
 
Thomas Hounds
Member Avatar
Apprentice Sith Lord
[ *  *  *  *  *  * ]
Liam
Jul 8 2011, 10:02 PM
Why don't you turn them into short stories instead? I have a feeling this would give you more range and momentary focus.
No. I hate to say this so vehemently, but I tend to despise the limited scope of short stories. I almost can't write them because I feel so limited and restricted, and, have been, in total seriousness, writing fiction almost entirely from the perspective of novels since I was 7; which is to say I have always written fiction with that very wide and free frame. Short stories are not comfortable for me, and I tried that once and it was a failure, ended up just being a good set of notes for future novella or novel, but not a short story.
Edited by Thomas Hounds, Jul 8 2011, 10:10 PM.
Offline Profile Quote Post Goto Top
 
suzannahhh
Member Avatar
Forum junkie
[ *  *  *  *  *  * ]
I liked the third one best

nice to see some new activity in this your writing thread!

more
Offline Profile Quote Post Goto Top
 
oneofmurphysbiscuits
Member Avatar
marmalade modernist
[ *  *  *  *  *  * ]
yes, the last one's my favourite too
Offline Profile Quote Post Goto Top
 
Thomas Hounds
Member Avatar
Apprentice Sith Lord
[ *  *  *  *  *  * ]
oneofmurphysbiscuits
Jul 9 2011, 08:00 AM
yes, the last one's my favourite too
I'm surprised that it works for you, but pleasantly surprised. It's curious how the work we often feel isn't our best is the very work that other people like the most.

The second poem interests me the most, but I want to change it a bit, there are parts that feel weak, and of course as the starting poem in a series that makes up one of the sections in my new poetry book, it needs to be a firm foundation. Perhaps you had ideas?

The last poem, Septets, is my favorite though, however it also flounders in places and there are certain stanzas I'm wanting to scrape and start over with (the thirteen septet sequence is very important to me in this project). The ending fouls the whole thing up.
Offline Profile Quote Post Goto Top
 
oneofmurphysbiscuits
Member Avatar
marmalade modernist
[ *  *  *  *  *  * ]
i think it's less a curiosity.more part and parcel of the stuff of writing, Thomas. I often have no clue as to what works and doesn't, and i like that - i'm always saying this but only because it's true - i think it's a positive, or put it this way and so as not to be prescriptive - for me, my stuff, it is.

This poem has a certainty, line of sight, and economiy of means because of, i like it very much
Offline Profile Quote Post Goto Top
 
Thomas Hounds
Member Avatar
Apprentice Sith Lord
[ *  *  *  *  *  * ]
oneofmurphysbiscuits
Jul 9 2011, 06:47 PM
i think it's less a curiosity.more part and parcel of the stuff of writing, Thomas. I often have no clue as to what works and doesn't, and i like that - i'm always saying this but only because it's true - i think it's a positive, or put it this way and so as not to be prescriptive - for me, my stuff, it is.

This poem has a certainty, line of sight, and economiy of means because of, i like it very much
Thanks. I'm not that great of at doing the necessary tweaks, sometimes it takes a tough editor to make me reach my full potential as it were.

Here's a brand spanking-new poem, since I felt very morbid yesterday...

Phobia

I am afraid there will come a day,
when I am afraid to go to sleep;
for fear that I may not again wake.

As a child,
sleep
scared
me.

It made me____lose control.
It was
more akin to dying,
and I wanted to always be.

edit note: does internal line spacing never work? is everything automatically flushed left?
Edited by Thomas Hounds, Jul 16 2011, 09:18 PM.
Offline Profile Quote Post Goto Top
 
suzannahhh
Member Avatar
Forum junkie
[ *  *  *  *  *  * ]
Quote:
 
does internal line spacing never work? is everything automatically flushed left?


irritating as all get out
isn't it!

that's why Biscuit and I have started
using attachments
Offline Profile Quote Post Goto Top
 
Thomas Hounds
Member Avatar
Apprentice Sith Lord
[ *  *  *  *  *  * ]
suzannahhh
Jul 16 2011, 10:45 PM
Quote:
 
does internal line spacing never work? is everything automatically flushed left?


irritating as all get out
isn't it!

that's why Biscuit and I have started
using attachments
Hmm. That could work, though I tend to organize my poems away from single files cause it's a bloody mess otherwise.

If I could impose questions, I'd like to know if the lack of certain forms of punctuation in this next poem, which felt important to me writing it and still feels important, is a turn off or turns it into something awkward and bewildering for a reader who didn't write the damned thing:

The Alley’s Requiem

i came to the city
it’s tall and it’s lost
warm i feel so warm
i wish the shadows
did not run from me
i'd like to be a shadow
flattened against the floor
untouchable by all
but the light—and light is
hard to come by:
the streetlamps are all broken
by angry moths
the shops are always closed
the restaurants are bright
but have no doors
stray cans scrape against concrete
in the wind’s Symphony in D minor
Opus 8 ‘The Alleyway’s Song’
and no shoes dampen the feel
of terra beneath my feet
and luna is always in my sight
a cat limps, a steady drool of blood
from out its mouth
it refuses to be touched
the hungry taxicabs
—sleek and nefarious—
watch it, headlights
blinking in_____anticipation.

i hop along,
on one foot
to the next
singing:
what is up?
what is down?
what is nowhere

to be found?

--

I write a lot of poems, but sometimes it takes a while after the fact before I get a sense of which ones are good and which ones are worth while. (Even then I don't seem to have a lot of luck getting the good ones, the ones I feel succeed and that I like, published). I feel that is at the top of one of my good ones for some reason...
Edited by Thomas Hounds, Jul 17 2011, 01:35 AM.
Offline Profile Quote Post Goto Top
 
oneofmurphysbiscuits
Member Avatar
marmalade modernist
[ *  *  *  *  *  * ]
you have a good eye and ear, Thomas. Just keep looking around, attending to the things, the "stuff" that works for you, that's what matters. I rarely have an idea whether or not mine work, but that really doesn't matter. And i'm way older than you are and i think for a time (no names, no packdrill :) ) there were some people who didn't understand or quite believe me when i said that, then they realized that i'd been saying the same thing for far too long for it any kind of posturing :P Just keep at it and try not to worry about the other stuff; play, but play seriously, because you do have abilities and you have something that you need to do right by. And i didn't mean to write at such length here, but i appreciate your willingness to be candid about your own poetry, so i thought i'd do likewise :)
Offline Profile Quote Post Goto Top
 
DealsFor.me - The best sales, coupons, and discounts for you
Go to Next Page
« Previous Topic · Your writing · Next Topic »
Add Reply