Category: Poets

Poet’s Critique

Killing Time

Noobie user tea-brown
posted 3 comments!

The curtain has closed and dreams have set the stage
I’m killing time and time has its way
She moves so slow, she goes in reverse
There’s no writing on the wall
There’s nothing to rehearse

It’s not a query of a passing notion
It’s not the answer to a rhyme
I’m just sitting here
Killing Time

I don’t want to sit and watch the world go by
If your soul took a breath would it court me when I cry
Yesterday’s words got together to create
And now they bring an unknown fate

It’s not a query of a passing notion
It’s not the answer to a rhyme
I’m just sitting here
Killing Time

Some Centuries

Advanced contributor rembow
posted 34 comments!

Working on music for this but haven’t been able to find something appropriate yet (I welcome suggestions, please). It’s basically a sarcastic song about shallow affection and delusions of grandeur.

You’re prettier than most girls
Got some mirror in those eyes
And it’s a hard place
That you got me in
It’s a sweet race
That i’m gonna win
Just give me some space
Time to make amends
It takes so many dimensions
Just to save a few cents

You got a heart attack
For a happy laugh
Got a handshake like an earthquake
Got me spinning dizzy tales
Make you the queen of wales
But we’re not british
We’re goddamn americans
And we like it that way

You say it once
Won’t say it again
Don’t blame you one bit
If there was a way
I could say the way it is
In less than ten million words
I’d be an almanac
I’d be the king of expression
It’s the answers in question
And you say yes
Every time

I’ll tell you true, I will
If you’re the queen of wales
And I’m the king of paint spills
What does that make us?
What does that make us?
I say we’re made of dollar bills
Wet sheets of dead trees
Cut and dry dyed green
To build a scene
Call it the land of the free
Or a recipe from a bad dream

But if you’re a character in my day dream
And you play the one who’s meant for me
Then who are you supposed to be
The remaining seven days this week?
Who are you when I’m asleep?

If you weren’t crazy you’d be dead
With a hole in your head
Where instinct should’ve been
Was supposed to build a tent
Of illusion to buttress your confusion
I mean our confusion
I mean their contusions
Sweet sympathetic evolution
Blessed distance from my sanity
Deliver me so blandly
From the madness borne of vision
Just take the ticket
Go on, take the ticket

You’re prettier than most girls
Got some fear in those lies
And what a great day
We’ve been born in
What a clean face
I’ll be buried with
Not a thing to miss
Give it a century or two
Just give it some centuries

A question with no answers

Not Ranked Yet riotfyre
posted 0 comments!

A question with no answers.

I need an escape.
The exit measured in milimeters
It’s too far away.
Too far to sway
From this self destructive thought
In this trap my mind struggles, tangled and caught
I try to look ahead and stand tall among the trees
But all I can see in front of me
Is the places and faces that led to defeat.
Will I ever be strong enough to set myself free?
The answer is no

It’s a pay to play game
That I’ve never paid in full.
No one remembers your name
Theres no clame to fame
Split fingers wrap around the final stitch
Theres the wind up, heres the pitch
Do I have the courage to make the final hit?
The answer is no.

The series not of the world
The players aren’t the same
It’s no walk in the park
Theres no coach to blame
Just a broken heart
All the wrecked twisted dreams
Torn all apart
Is the caution flag out?
Is there time to restart?
The answer is no.

The rock and the roll
Tossed in the waves
Lost in a cave
Like a troll
I’ve tried to erase
The distorted face
Of a once perfect slate
Thats been melted by hate
Of acidic tears
Left far far behind
by a soul
Stuck in rewind
Hollow and transparent sight
A foolish ghoul
All you can do is stare.
Will I wake up from this nightmare?
The answer is no.

I take one last look at the world that lied.
The world that told me I’d be fine if I tried
To surprisingly find that no tears have dried.
I feel no satisfaction in knowing I’m wrong.
At least I’ve been right about that all along.
Finger wrapped tight and ready to squeeze
Oh just a twitch and it’s over
Just one twitch please! please! please!
Almost there
Will I ever leave this wasteland of nowhere?
The answer is no.

I’m done sitting here I’m tired and thin.
The deliberation is over the verdict is in.
One more question answered guilty as charged
I never thought self liberation would be this hard.
Do I have the will to fight this pain?
The answer lies to me



Advanced contributor rembow
posted 34 comments!

Sorry about the mumbly voice here, haha, still working on singing and playing AND singing expressively (including enunciation) so that’s part of why this is a demo. Lyrics and song structure, mood and feel are what I’m focusing on. Professional recording, if ever, is a long term goal. Also I’m trying my hand at symbolic storytelling, allegory. This one’s about country music.

My lady’s no fool
She got craft to spare
My sweetheart’s no beggar
Got color in her hair

And if you give her a dime
Slide your change in her slot
She’ll recite you a song
And a show that don’t stop

There was once a time
When her grace and her charm
Made toast out of towns
And gave life to the farms

But my darlin’s no child
Say the notches in her bedpost
Don’t look in her eyes
Lest you turn to stone


What a beautiful song she sang
With that slow southern drawl
You can almost hear
The mournful wail
Of slow, sad steel
Casting lines against
A desert sunset
Stirring memories
Of a time before the ravages

And the town she was born in
Grew up and grew strong
Made a name in the papers
As the mecca of tonks

And the opera they sang of
As grand as it was old
Birthed the Icarus of twang
Mountain wax, home-spun gold

Her passion was plain
To those blessed with eyes
And to those craving drink
A pure shot of life

And still to this day
some radiance remains
Though jaded and faded
Sold, bought and traded

And so was treated
The soulful siren of the southern west
That singing swan more lost than blessed


Then change collected
Like a thief in the night
She got scared or aware
Or just lost in the heart

She gave up her passion
Her unquenchable curse
For the illusion of pleasure
The dark pit of a purse

So now the good ol’ days
Are gone forever
Cold dust in the wind
A dead wheel that just spins
as the sun sets
And her skin cracks
As she fills holes full of time
For dollars and dimes
She remembers the old days
And mourns momentarily
For her forgotten muse
All but lost to posterity
“Too late now!” she scoffs
As she cashes her check
I’ve bedded the banker
And there’s no looking back


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