Blast From The Past

Re: Blast From The Past

In Cheese We Grate





You said you’re a lover of music,
and I found you listening to Frampton Comes Alive.
Then you asked me who Peter Frampton is ?.
You always keep away from my dogs teeth,
but my dog has armour plated heat seeking testicle hunters.
Even my house doesn’t like you,
it huffs smoke as its pipes moan when you enter its stomach,
and the windows ache to crack with helpless seethe.
But still you offer friendship with your stupid split elephant skin.
Then with ping pong eyes rolling back ,
like in ecstasy from chocolate consumption,
you go into your boring self hypnotised twitter,
with me the reluctant victim seeing your coma stretching dribble ,
the globules giving warped reflections of my ornaments ,
and pooling in oily crevices.
Your nuclear forearm wipes splatters away,
but empty table dents feel left out ,
they echo my earlier phone calls to you,
like when I needed your nose scissors to clip my protruding tarantula legs.
I now have a bike to get away from it all.
But you have become the yellow lines when I am bored.
Lets face it ,you’re my unsanded wood filler.

Re: Blast From The Past

I don't really quite know what that second one means, but despite that, I really liked it. Which speaks volumes.

I thought you plagerized these at first because they're a mite too unconventional, so I did the simple thing and google searched parts of your second poem - only to find more written by you on another forum.

I'm impressed. I mean, it doesn't really take much to impress me, but still.

Re: Blast From The Past

Thanks for your reply...your very kind.I didn't know i could be googled i'll try it myself.

Re: Blast From The Past

Ive read your work (Frankenstein). Pretty good. Sorry it has been so long getting back to you, but as you can tell i am a basket case. Have you been published. Direct me to some of your forums, i have the same problem as you, no replies. Well heres another crap poem for you all.




Jumping Screaming Daffodil.





Winding and tying from feet to the neck,
now quit all the crying you quivering wreck.
Like a wiggly worm you squirm and gyrate,
never to know your beautiful fate.


With a quick splashing of green paint,
as you tear swollen eyes roll to faint,
the useless struggle now beginning to cease,
but awake you must be to become my masterpiece.

Stinging petrol all over your face,
yes awaken my art with prestige and grace.
A scream not quite right to my nurtured ear,
so I’ll scream you the screams that I want me to hear.

Pleading with life at the first match that I strike,
just me whipping up frenzy and anger alike.
You standing balancing and hopping to escape,
this finishing touch sees my work taking shape.

Matches in hand and a flick of the wrist,
the whoosh of your head 'voila'! my fingers are kissed.
My beautiful artwork my elegant kill.
My jumping screaming daffodil!.




(art within art)

Re: Blast From The Past

And another.

The Dog and Mustard Seed


There is a pub called the Dog and Mustard Seed.
It has kittens that live in the hollows of it’s front steps.
Their mother fed them from fairy cakes with cherry’s
for a pinnacle.

You can watch them all dancing together at dusk, before
they hide from the hungry beak of a Tawny Owl. Their
jiblets quiver at the whoosh of a wing. But it is a
rustling bag that should pray on tiny minds.

A servant will trap limbs for the sake of violin strings,
and carry the babies off like wailing bag pipes under a
squeezing arm. Here is to teach aristocratic dogs how
to howl at bum notes of cat gut.

Re: Blast From The Past

Could you possibly...I don't know...use less gore in your imagery in the future, please? Talking about war, I understand, but the "jumping screaming daffodil" and the words you used in that one felt totally out of place.

You seem to have a firm grasp of couplets, but the meter is a little uneven. Maybe if you worked on that, I'd like it a little more.

But to hear that you're trying to get noticed across multiple forums...that's something. Are you trying to get published? If so, I wish you all the best.

Re: Blast From The Past

Well, I partially disagree with you, rhythm. While I agree that in parts the words don't quite work. They are rather awkward at parts and actually have a negative effect on carrying the point and feel across. On the other hand, the ones that do positively attribute to the feel and flow are very well placed and help paint the gory image necessary to understand the depth and seriousness her is attempting to portray in the poem.

Overall, I was impressed and can appreciate your graphic yet poetic work. I would encourage you to continue in your work, but take into consideration a little more the way a each word sits in its part and work on making some of the parts equally as graphic, without causing them to lose their flow due to awkwardness.

Re: Blast From The Past

Wow, thanks for the comments... I shall take both of your advice.

Re: Blast From The Past

War Pig




Out of the dark and into the light
All the confusion now clear in your site
Marching a line drawn by a God
Or are you the first where our fathers have trod

The want of a fight the love of a child
A fighting of choice unreconciled

Displayment of power an on going war
Or meek as a kitten with words that mean more
Twisted mind the blame of today
Humdrum speeches with nothing to say

I will go for the fight the showing of might
Written in blood is all that is right
From all that is bad comes all that is good
The last stand of the misunderstood