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PostPosted: Sat May 17, 2008 6:22 pm 
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Angus Young's Gibson SG
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Stephen wrote:
I'm still fascinated by your use of church/cathedrals imagery Tom. Is there any reason they appear so frequently in your poetry? Or is it the grandeur of these buildings you feel brings a noble, poignant meaning to your writing?

I agree with Aurelia's comment about the last verse, but as a poet you must go with what you feel sums up the writing best.


It's a relatively subconcious thing, but I'm often quite fasinated with the idea of religion in literature, and the way it's referenced in so many novels, poems etc.

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PostPosted: Sun May 18, 2008 8:12 pm 
DOLE

Spider kites weaving the air
with webs of chaotic malfunction. It's raining through sunny rainbows.
The heart, held together like cuff-links, is pulsating the clouds
like an artery pumping blood, and spitting shadows
into the dark, threatening job centre
where rehabilitation and shelter are polished like brass halo's
above the heads of drug addicts, prostitutes; scum of Glasgow.

It was much simpler at school. Pocket money.
Drinking in the park with your little honey.

Signing on to what exactly?


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PostPosted: Sun May 18, 2008 8:26 pm 
INTIMACY RESIGNED

You're doing that dance.
Down to your knickers, and the thut-thut-thut
of the slick, sexy grooves of 1975.
Yeah, I love that jive.

Standing over me, kneeling with my head between your legs,
I'm tied to the spell you've put over me.
Witchcraft just began to look a little more acceptable.
Well if you rub that there, then I'm bound to sneeze,
but I'll do my best to keep this pleasurable.

You're doing that dance.
Down to your knickers, and the thut-thut-thut
of the slick, sexy grooves of 1975.
Yeah, I love that jive.

Pulling me inside you, we've made sounds against that wall
that would rival a tribal's drums. HERE IT COMES
in the wilderness nightfall, howling at moons
like wolves, and sticking together with threads
of fluid. Growling at nothing at all,
and everything.


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PostPosted: Tue May 20, 2008 12:59 pm 
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BB King's Gibson ES-251, "Lucille"
BB King's Gibson ES-251, "Lucille"
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I've not written any poems in months... but I was recently hugely inspired by the following......




Kisses

Kisses,
Not stolen,
Freely given—freely received,
Stored in bulk,
Easily accessible day and night.

Uncovered,
the smooth glass jar,
(Larger than our two heads lying on the same pillow as we speak truth with our eyes,)
Contains our love.

Take what you need, what you want,
Whenever,
Day or night.

Take a pinch or a heaping scoopful.
Take,
Eat,
Drink.

You cannot steal what is already yours.


By Peterson Toscano


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PostPosted: Tue May 20, 2008 4:48 pm 
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Angus Young's Gibson SG
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Location: Paris, France, Europe, World, Universe, Solar System, Galaxy
CAROLINE!! :o

Good to see you around :wink: :D

I'd have prefered you to use your own words instead of someone else's after such a long silence, but oh well :mrg:

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PostPosted: Mon May 26, 2008 12:42 pm 
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Angus Young's Gibson SG
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Going Solo

A bottle of wine for one,
Takes longer to drink
Than a bottle shared between two.
And a heart that's as lonely,
As a tree without leaves
Only knows what it's like to grieve.

I've forgotten what it's like to breathe.

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Tom you're a funny genius!

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That's cute, that's cute, that's cute, that's cute, I really love your Tiger Suit.


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PostPosted: Sat May 31, 2008 5:18 pm 
NEVER SETTLE DOWN

Flapping like old leather, a geriatric vampire
mistaken as the insole of a shoe,
I wonder when you'll retire;
It must be soon.

How much longer can you gnaw on female necks?
Get kicks from sucking virgin blood?
You're the old dog with no new tricks,
and it's all beginning to look a little sad.

Hiss at the cross, the moral fibre
which brings people together in marriage.
I wonder when you'll retire;
or how you'll manage.

Your skin is looking pale and pasty,
and there is a slight crook in the way you walk.
I've heard you moan how there's nothing tasty
to wrap up inside your long, black cloak

and how sleeping in a coffin
is not the way you wish to exit.


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PostPosted: Mon Jun 02, 2008 12:00 am 
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Angus Young's Gibson SG
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Disappointed not to have seen any contributions from Rainbow Braces for a while now.

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Tom you're a funny genius!

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That's cute, that's cute, that's cute, that's cute, I really love your Tiger Suit.


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PostPosted: Mon Jun 02, 2008 12:06 am 
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Angus Young's Gibson SG
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Bonded By Blood

I cross my heart and hope to die for you,
Before the needle kills your eyesight blind.
And the darkness that now smothers you,
Shakes your bones against the wind.

I lay my rifle down in front of you,
Before the troubles become permanent.
And the suffering that God puts you through
Is far more than you deserve.

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Aurelia wrote:
Tom you're a funny genius!

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That's cute, that's cute, that's cute, that's cute, I really love your Tiger Suit.


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PostPosted: Mon Jun 02, 2008 8:24 pm 
Gently Devoured

Wasp sting, you turn a bed of roses
into a bed of nails; I'm already in love with you.
Into the lion's den, I keep finding myself
again and again, sticking my head
into a mouth that just wants to chew it clean off.
Clamp those lips open, hold that tongue still.
I'm already in love with you, too late to turn it off.

And now I'm broken.


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PostPosted: Mon Jun 02, 2008 8:31 pm 
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Jimi Hendrix's Fender Stratocaster
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Tom wrote:
Disappointed not to have seen any contributions from Rainbow Braces for a while now.


:lol: :lol: :lol:

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PostPosted: Tue Jun 03, 2008 5:05 pm 
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Elvis' Martin D-28
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Ok so here's my first contribution to this thread :smt023

I've been debating posting for a while because my writing's kind of personal to me so I don't tend to share it, but hey ho!

TWO YEARS

Two years
And I almost wasn't here
Two years
And I just wasn't clear
Anymore

I couldn't find my way out
Until you held out your hand
I didn't think my heart could sink
Any further and
You proved me wrong

I was so tired of believing
I'd given up on the world on everything
You were my only way out
But you let me down

I couldn't handle it on my own
But now my heart is more torn
Maybe some day you'll realise what you did
But you'll never fully understand it

You don't get how lonely this place has been
For me
What's it like to feel so free?
I'd given up on life
I was lost
And I couldn't see

Do you know just how it feels
To have to live these lies?
Was it fun watching my world fall
Apart in front of your eyes?

All I needed was a friend
To help me through
My heart told me no
But I trusted you

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PostPosted: Tue Jun 03, 2008 5:59 pm 
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BB King's Gibson ES-251, "Lucille"
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Thats such a good poem.. well written :smt001


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PostPosted: Tue Jun 03, 2008 9:10 pm 
Ah lovely contribution Rachel. Please don't hold back if you have any more.




Angel to hang

Dirty teardrop
into a stained toilet bowl,
things went very wrong when you took off that halo.
Ugly fire and haunted dream
made me believe in shadowed devotion,
turning it's dark side
on the egg-yolk sun like Mr Hyde. Drunk on his potions.

English ruin,
no castle for a Prince, or gent,
I meant every word I said into your waxy ear.
The vile poisonous smoke
which curls round your ageing hair
will hang you by the neck
and leave your feet dancing on air,
like an angel with no rhythm.


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PostPosted: Wed Jun 04, 2008 7:42 am 
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Angus Young's Gibson SG
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Location: Paris, France, Europe, World, Universe, Solar System, Galaxy
... "like an angel with no rythm"... I like this line...
As usual, your poem is a mix of beautiful poetry in a either sordid, or awkward, or gloomy universe... This is what I often find (and like) in your style Stephen: its ambivalence :smt023 :D

And thankyou Rachel for sharing your poem, which sounded very personal indeed, with us... :smt058

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