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We can i will be needing funding to carry out some projects i want to do with ttpoems.com
If we could get help from some companies we could release a poem book and also have some prize money for the best poems.
 
I love this thread too much, I have to put this here first, let it stay for a while..

Subversion.


I've come to defile what I've held sacred,
No qualms, keeping calm while decoding her.
Slowly, I shed all the layers as she stays still,
In rapt anticipation of what will occur.

I must, but resist the urge I feel most,
Subversion must taper my errant thought
I'm not here for that, should not care for it,
My perversions tempered, I'm overwrought.

Yet still writhing within me this twin I've
Contrived from her (named , nursed - grown and cherished) ,
Lives free clouding my only true memories.
Choked down inside, ( broken and cursed), all have perished.

I'm here to destroy what I've fetishized.
Damming my delusion, fixing its end.
But these obessesions possess me, sick miscreations
Suppress good intentions, leaving anguish to extend...

Through her eyes I feel myself suffering,
Her voice massaging my shattered ideals.
Her small talking infused with concern and pity.
I crawl away too weary to fight my ordeals.

Learning to relish the disappointments.
Most days a bit less sick in my insides,
Becoming complacent, pleased with minor control
Or better at containing the pain my soul hides.

Merely skin contact and I'm sunken in,
Held back must not make tendrils of my limbs.
Apart now, not too close to feed on her calm warmt.
Away, unable to act on my wicked whims.

She cares not, needs not know why I cringe.
I wont spill, must kill the myth still thriving.
Sharing in my suffering will destroy us both.
Only on inhibition we continue surviving.
 
my donkey dear

oh how do i remember yet
and very proud i used to get,
like a little king i sat upon ...my ass

And when through rough roads we trod
and gets himself all into mud
There i'll take my tub in hand
and wash ...my ass

When seated upon his springy back,
my little whip i used to crack
Then i'll take my whip in hand
and crack ...my ass

Boys too so mean and trick,
at least to hit him wit their sticks
Then they'll take their heavy boots
and kick ...my ass

My grief for this was so sincere
because i love my donkey dear
So come wit me my friend
and shed a tear
and kiss ...my ass
 
Where do I go?

Honour bound,
ways of old.
My heart shivers,
bitter, cold.

Winter comes,
alone again.
Grasping, yet,
hurt, pain.

Trying so hard,
throwing away,
Feelings, love,
night and day.

Dark witches,
fate, destiny.
Sleepless cries,
It's only me.

Dreamless bed,
lying dead.
Closed eyes,
goodbyes!

I can't see,
I don't know.
Lost, once more.
Where do I go?
 
Note to self.

So strong in unsupported convictions you build
Miniature devices of vices made to keep
You perfectly subjugated subdued and free
In soma sleep. Hungry, you retreat to the heap.

Your flawless world grows like seeds on hydroponics
packaged into portable delusions ready
For distro but they all deny you profit no
They dont dare dive into your fanciful eddy.

How does it feel to puff on your own filth and choke?
Being the only one to hold his head far up...
Orifices- psuedo enchanted places?
Prepare yourself and embrace failure when you flop.

Knowing your personal demons by name and rank,
Do you truly expect divine providence from
The one you betrayed and defied, denied, disowned?
Only you face fire when conflagrations come.
 
Patience


The warrior sits,
with blade in hand.
His crimson steed,
on bloodstained sands.

Within his being,
a fire burns.
For battle and war,
his heart yearns.

Gazing beyond,
knowing his fate.
Peacefully,
patiently, he waits.......
 
Thats a short but really good poem it really takes your avatar the poem
 
Why does everything you write feel so epic? lol So cool.
Click to expand...
......lol.....thanx....I'm a really big fan of Lord Of The Rings..... I read the trilogy about 12 yrs ago and probaly read it about 6 times....... i was hooked and soon after I started writing.....I'm also a big fan of Norse mythology,and the samurai....so i guess most of my stuff would relate to such tings.....
Thats a short but really good poem it really takes your avatar the poem
Click to expand...
....yep....lol....dat does happen wen yuh go to see LOTR: return of the king.....and wen Legolas come out all d girls only bawlin and wen Arwen on screen all d fellas shoutin and wen d dwarf show up ,one man bawlin on top he lungs..."killer!".....lol....
 
Leecher.


Tears as a fist grabs a soul from a sanctum.
Entrails and blood left pointing to a culprit
Who gloats in the glow of this coveted prize
Oblivious, ambivalent, unwilling
To release it to familiar constraints.

It grasps at solace and holds fast its own hope
It's own home, it's old past, rejecting its new
Entrapments. It is not yours, It, hurts to share.
Like a domineering parent my offspring,
My issues, I crave to feel their false comfort.

It is very unkind to deprave a man
Of the complaints he has laboured to maintain.
Suffering the suffered to come unto you.
You are an aggressor in the guise of a
Healer. Fixing with care but not permission.
 
On waking...


Complexities grow, thriving, as odds become rife,
Possiblities trend to the exponential.
But He wont breathe yet, not to speak it into life:
Handfuls of silica stifle on potential.

Artist's hands safely driven by an engineer's mind
Soothes and smoothes granules to create true curvature
Deftly, stones into bone, torso and tissue defined.
Like music, rhythmic trimmings close the overture.

A detailed double helix inscripted by hand
From base pair to genome to phenome encoded.
Compressed into densities a finite strand.
A cryptic kernel now waits to be downloaded.

First decision theory then free will hard wired
Into synapses, coupled with self awareness.
Thought, perception, senses, all that, is required.
All constructed and trapped by a Master's finesse.

A machine without cognizance is not a soul,
With no respiration this hardware has no role.
He draws close respires into your null frame.
You rasp a gasp awake "My God.. " .. that is His name.
 
On paper

These words degrade the paper as they write
By failing to suppress and condem desires
That spill and dry with spotty ballpoint ink
And coagulate like blood as hope expires.

She will never grace these words with her gaze.
Or smear them with her crying, or quell
The wails of a soul in isolation
Fighting mobs of anguish, losing to the riot.

This page is shunned by unused potentail
Reflecting the losses of the scribe's inactions.
Worth nothing in its pretense of meaning,
Gaining no ground in it's pre emptive retractions.

His vain musings resolve no consequence
In their ineffectual deliberations-
Cognitive seizures, repeated scribblings,
Redrafted lines, detracting considerations.

They are born of barely creative fits,
Poorly guarded symptoms of hypergraphia
Going unread into insignificance,
Words like chaff growing increasingly chaffier.

Semantics and syntax will never be
Twinned by her interest in what has been written here.
He will not be spared the disparity,
She will not read to see or understand to care.
 
cool
 
Entry

Her probings are welcomed into
Your sacred inner privacies
Where she relishes your release
From self defeating fantasies.

Unhealthily breaching your skin
So she can step inside to wear
You down into constituents
And feed your hunger; feel your fear.

Like eager goosebumps to the palms
Wanting to divine your being
And reconcile flirtations with
The fragile child she's seeing.
.
But keep your dark soul chained down
Wrapped in iridescent gift garb.
In a dungeon for the malformed
Unable to unleash its barb.

Push her back hard, safely an inch
Beyond an arms lenght sparing her.
Else consumate her purity
With your pain, pointless tearing spur.

Fallacious to assume you are
Saving her by denying wants,
And you wonder in martyrdom
Why a dying need always haunts.

She keeps cutting the callous hide
Breaking into an empty husk
Injuring the epidermis
Only to find you dull and brusque.

You justify your fears and claim
That all you own to share is woe
And you shut out the threat of hope
And beg of God she will not know.
 
WOW Rau these poems are sooooooo damn good. i think you need to publish these..i knw i will support you
 
Runner.

Dull iron fetters chafe marrow through flesh
Blood bonds with rust and scarlet with maroon.
Fumes of necrosis trail a single file
And pollute the lungs of a dead platoon
That will carry on, even to the dearth.
Carrion, without the comforts of earth.

From the putrid mass rises dissonance
Dissidence as a pulse throbs out of sync
Eyes grasp at greenery and life outside
The death march to decay in this chain link.
Shackles clank emptily on trodden stone
As a broken body drags on its own.

Harpooned by freedom and reeled in by hope
She steels away through an enlivened path.
Alert in intoxication by life
Her bellows taunt at her past to loose wrath.
Echoes bring none. She is truely reborn.
Her free footfalls will hit haven by morn.
 

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