wildsweetone
i am what i am
- Joined
- Feb 1, 2002
- Posts
- 6,809
sleep well dear. enjoy your day and enjoy working on your poem. 
Same Title Challenge - Wasted
- Thread starter wildsweetone
- Start date
wildsweetone
i am what i am
- Joined
- Feb 1, 2002
- Posts
- 6,809
counting down the moments
BooMerengue
Literotica Guru
- Joined
- Mar 15, 2002
- Posts
- 5,456
WSO?? I sure hope you're a forgiving soul. I have 7 lines out of 19 for a Villanelle. I promised myself I wouldn't do it unless each line was perfect, and I'm a far cry away. So I might not be here tomorrow...
*cringing
*cringing
wildsweetone
i am what i am
- Joined
- Feb 1, 2002
- Posts
- 6,809
i admire you, lovely lady, for keeping a promise you made to yourself.
promise me something in return... enjoy the writing, okay?
...and i still would love to see it when you're comfortable with what you've accomplished.
promise me something in return... enjoy the writing, okay?
...and i still would love to see it when you're comfortable with what you've accomplished.
BooMerengue
Literotica Guru
- Joined
- Mar 15, 2002
- Posts
- 5,456
wildsweetone said:i admire you, lovely lady, for keeping a promise you made to yourself.
promise me something in return... enjoy the writing, okay?
...and i still would love to see it when you're comfortable with what you've accomplished.
big grin!
You're such a pushover!
wildsweetone
i am what i am
- Joined
- Feb 1, 2002
- Posts
- 6,809
you'll keep.
get writing.
get writing.
BooMerengue
Literotica Guru
- Joined
- Mar 15, 2002
- Posts
- 5,456
Yes, Ma'am!
wildsweetone
i am what i am
- Joined
- Feb 1, 2002
- Posts
- 6,809
hey tolyk! i hope your poem's doing well.
time for me to go and make dindins (and dream up something to get rid of a cliche for a certain piece of writing. )
time for me to go and make dindins (and dream up something to get rid of a cliche for a certain piece of writing.
)
tolyk
Checked out
- Joined
- Feb 2, 2004
- Posts
- 45,445
Poem's doing alright, I had a friend help me edit it.. think it's done now. You'll see later (though, it is the 31st now)wildsweetone said:hey tolyk! i hope your poem's doing well.
time for me to go and make dindins (and dream up something to get rid of a cliche for a certain piece of writing.
wildsweetone
i am what i am
- Joined
- Feb 1, 2002
- Posts
- 6,809
Lauren Hynde,
Liar,
champagne1982,
annaswirls, (consider this Reminder 7!
)
BooMerengue,
Remec,
Jennifer C,
BrinkOfDoom,
neonurotic,
Miss Oatlash,
bogusbrig,
echoes_s,
Tzara,
The_Fool,
PatCarrington,
sandspike,
average_gina,
bluerains,
tolyk,
Belegon
welcome Belegon i look forward to reading your poem.
wow, so much poetry to read!
Liar,
champagne1982,
annaswirls, (consider this Reminder 7!
)BooMerengue,
Remec,
Jennifer C,
BrinkOfDoom,
neonurotic,
Miss Oatlash,
bogusbrig,
echoes_s,
Tzara,
The_Fool,
PatCarrington,
sandspike,
average_gina,
bluerains,
tolyk,
Belegon
welcome Belegon
i look forward to reading your poem. wow, so much poetry to read!
echoes_s
Literotica Guru
- Joined
- Nov 23, 2003
- Posts
- 1,592
we post the poem here?
Wasted
Tattooed knuckles
repressed in anger,
expressed in momentum,
beat dramatic scenes
of violent swarming throbs.
Harsh scions
of senseless thrashings
too long remiss,
rigid and inflamed
charred revolutions.
Scarred constitutions,
mobs chanting hatred
with their feet
pounding pavement,
pounding superseded,
same stated, x-rated,
hated, belated
days gone by,
misdeeds into
innocent bystanders.
Misunderstanding,
fleeing from fear
into terror,
towards the heart
of obsolete
Misappropriation,
now hit delete
so this too may become
repressed, wasted
then repeat history.
Wasted
Tattooed knuckles
repressed in anger,
expressed in momentum,
beat dramatic scenes
of violent swarming throbs.
Harsh scions
of senseless thrashings
too long remiss,
rigid and inflamed
charred revolutions.
Scarred constitutions,
mobs chanting hatred
with their feet
pounding pavement,
pounding superseded,
same stated, x-rated,
hated, belated
days gone by,
misdeeds into
innocent bystanders.
Misunderstanding,
fleeing from fear
into terror,
towards the heart
of obsolete
Misappropriation,
now hit delete
so this too may become
repressed, wasted
then repeat history.
impressive
Literotica Guru
- Joined
- Sep 11, 2003
- Posts
- 27,372
Wasted
Tokin' female -
boilermaker bitch trippin'
over salty tongues of tequila
basted breath; the worm
squirmin' as kamikaze kisses
rock the cash bar.
Liquor, lick 'er,
never been sicker
of trash talkin' bicker
in a cold cunt's daquiri dreams
The elder bury whine
'neath the burning blunts,
and a slower gin fizzles
through the crushed ice tease.
In toxic, hated prisons
the bong blows peyote prisms
across fade dead to black
and blue bawled reign bows.
Can a bliss haze
blanket mimosa memories
until tomorrow is burned
out and blasted back
to fresh fleshed free fall
fucking?
Want not the wasted knot
of a weed whirled whore -
strung out hash gash
drifting through a long lost life.
Tokin' female -
boilermaker bitch trippin'
over salty tongues of tequila
basted breath; the worm
squirmin' as kamikaze kisses
rock the cash bar.
Liquor, lick 'er,
never been sicker
of trash talkin' bicker
in a cold cunt's daquiri dreams
The elder bury whine
'neath the burning blunts,
and a slower gin fizzles
through the crushed ice tease.
In toxic, hated prisons
the bong blows peyote prisms
across fade dead to black
and blue bawled reign bows.
Can a bliss haze
blanket mimosa memories
until tomorrow is burned
out and blasted back
to fresh fleshed free fall
fucking?
Want not the wasted knot
of a weed whirled whore -
strung out hash gash
drifting through a long lost life.
Last edited:
sandspike
Really Really Experienced
- Joined
- Sep 20, 2002
- Posts
- 413
Wasted
Two cold coronas
with limes down each neck.
Jo knocked them over
when the surf rod bent.
Soft sand is a sponge,
the brews disappeared.
Just two clear skeletons
and imprisoned limes.
Two beers were wasted,
small price to pay.
Life had been tasted,
another great day.
Two cold coronas
with limes down each neck.
Jo knocked them over
when the surf rod bent.
Soft sand is a sponge,
the brews disappeared.
Just two clear skeletons
and imprisoned limes.
Two beers were wasted,
small price to pay.
Life had been tasted,
another great day.
tolyk
Checked out
- Joined
- Feb 2, 2004
- Posts
- 45,445
Wasted
If feels like it's missing a verse, but here it is nonetheless. THanks for the inspiration WSO.
We started off grand;
love was all around.
Then things began to settle,
become routine.
Passion faded and the true tests began.
Together we stood through
Years of hardships;
Hours spent just talking
through our troubles.
Only the happy memories
held us together
Memories faded away
left with brutal reality
nothing remained
Reconcile? We ask.
Reconcile what?
Nothing's left, it all washed away
Why must it have all been
wasted?
If feels like it's missing a verse, but here it is nonetheless. THanks for the inspiration WSO.
We started off grand;
love was all around.
Then things began to settle,
become routine.
Passion faded and the true tests began.
Together we stood through
Years of hardships;
Hours spent just talking
through our troubles.
Only the happy memories
held us together
Memories faded away
left with brutal reality
nothing remained
Reconcile? We ask.
Reconcile what?
Nothing's left, it all washed away
Why must it have all been
wasted?
Last edited:
bluerains
528 inception
- Joined
- Mar 29, 2004
- Posts
- 2,777
Wasted Dreams
*
Another wicked wave crashes
against a tower of
quiet determination
as the day’s sun
comes undone
Soft sighs and baby blues
watch crude castles crumble
in current’s blind eye.
Rainbow's Riven hands
pluck an olive branch
from submerged sand
Tomorrow peace may come
building another bastion
of wasted prayer
dreaming their castles
strung in illusion
following mournful coos
of now solo dove.
*
Another wicked wave crashes
against a tower of
quiet determination
as the day’s sun
comes undone
Soft sighs and baby blues
watch crude castles crumble
in current’s blind eye.
Rainbow's Riven hands
pluck an olive branch
from submerged sand
Tomorrow peace may come
building another bastion
of wasted prayer
dreaming their castles
strung in illusion
following mournful coos
of now solo dove.
BrinkOfDoom
Virgin
- Joined
- Jul 21, 2005
- Posts
- 20
Wasted
Did Portia cry sweet tears o'er Aragon
To see him lose his hoped for destiny
And choose instead the brutish portrait drawn,
The poem, and blinking idiot that he
Himself became; forbidden to marry,
Or love, or dream of other hearts to woo?
They say this prince was but one of many
Men left lonely, when Portia bid adieu.
It was a lovely game they did pursue.
Did Portia cry sweet tears o'er Aragon
To see him lose his hoped for destiny
And choose instead the brutish portrait drawn,
The poem, and blinking idiot that he
Himself became; forbidden to marry,
Or love, or dream of other hearts to woo?
They say this prince was but one of many
Men left lonely, when Portia bid adieu.
It was a lovely game they did pursue.
PatCarrington
fingering the buttons
- Joined
- Jul 24, 2004
- Posts
- 1,624
Wasted (on a barstool over Delaware Bay)
Each day it’s harder being in this place,
wood my only balance as water
swallows light. Too long I’ve watched
sunbeams drown without thrashing.
But tonight they have a braver slant,
for once. Fire lingers on the bay, lighting
gulls that come at evening to mourn
with me. Perhaps their cry, shrill
as roosters, is just the night crow
of a postponed death. Or is it invitation
to dream? As if I still remember how.
Dusk stares the beaches yellow, sings
the cedar of summer bungalows
burnt orange. It offers time
before burglars sneak in with sacks
to gather our eyes, a suspension until
bag ropes are knotted. My moment
of choice to arrest the thieves
or join them, to make this stool a bed
or grave. When night comes, dreamers
dream. That is their gift, to be selfish
with sundowns. But not all of us
are dreamers, and not all see
a sundown protected by the eyes
and lullabies of yellow and orange.
Each day it’s harder being in this place,
wood my only balance as water
swallows light. Too long I’ve watched
sunbeams drown without thrashing.
But tonight they have a braver slant,
for once. Fire lingers on the bay, lighting
gulls that come at evening to mourn
with me. Perhaps their cry, shrill
as roosters, is just the night crow
of a postponed death. Or is it invitation
to dream? As if I still remember how.
Dusk stares the beaches yellow, sings
the cedar of summer bungalows
burnt orange. It offers time
before burglars sneak in with sacks
to gather our eyes, a suspension until
bag ropes are knotted. My moment
of choice to arrest the thieves
or join them, to make this stool a bed
or grave. When night comes, dreamers
dream. That is their gift, to be selfish
with sundowns. But not all of us
are dreamers, and not all see
a sundown protected by the eyes
and lullabies of yellow and orange.
Last edited:
champagne1982
Dangerous Liaison
- Joined
- Aug 31, 2002
- Posts
- 7,671
Wasted
Psychedelic patterns swept
dust across hollows,
matter blown through
the fabric of time
shredded above
an open window.
Mushroom clouds in a New
Mexico morning; the Father,
his Son, the Holy Ghost
peered through
the gate
at Trinity,
with its glass ground
and burnt shadows
in fertile wombs.
Sow our seeds
through deep space.
Pray they fall
on a newborn Earth,
designed by man,
blueprints by God.
Psychedelic patterns swept
dust across hollows,
matter blown through
the fabric of time
shredded above
an open window.
Mushroom clouds in a New
Mexico morning; the Father,
his Son, the Holy Ghost
peered through
the gate
at Trinity,
with its glass ground
and burnt shadows
in fertile wombs.
Sow our seeds
through deep space.
Pray they fall
on a newborn Earth,
designed by man,
blueprints by God.
Lauren Hynde
Hitched
- Joined
- Apr 11, 2002
- Posts
- 21,061
Tzara said:
Brilliant! I'm almost ashamed of posting this one following that act.
Wasted
It was a slow yellow that crawled from within the filter.
I imagined myself in the eloquent city of colours.
I was stood on a road without paths,
May the impossible live,
May the impossible die at a myriapod's feet
To reread silence.
It's this hand the miracle of time.
And if I can I will write your name
To shout your design across the city
That I burnt down
The burnt cityAnd if I can I will write your name
To shout your design across the city
That I burnt down
The stamens.
Liar
now with 17% more class
- Joined
- Dec 4, 2003
- Posts
- 43,715
Wasted
Look at the ranter rave
tear up the sky, sprinkle
it with tufts of hair
and invectives on a string.
What's your game? A sandbox
masturbation utopia, where
holier than thou is holier
than thy well hidden seams?
Well, so it seems,
when you ramble on my
inertia, a stale blob
in the path of progress.
But all that I can see
is a perspective wasted
on the brick wall of me
in Don Q windmill battle.
And hell yes, we're all
just cattle.
But I'll munch merrily
on my patch of green,
a micro cosmos
between pasture parade
and the last call.
Maybe wasted
in an endless chew,
but pretty happy
with it all.
Look at the ranter rave
tear up the sky, sprinkle
it with tufts of hair
and invectives on a string.
What's your game? A sandbox
masturbation utopia, where
holier than thou is holier
than thy well hidden seams?
Well, so it seems,
when you ramble on my
inertia, a stale blob
in the path of progress.
But all that I can see
is a perspective wasted
on the brick wall of me
in Don Q windmill battle.
And hell yes, we're all
just cattle.
But I'll munch merrily
on my patch of green,
a micro cosmos
between pasture parade
and the last call.
Maybe wasted
in an endless chew,
but pretty happy
with it all.
