Sinfest

[crossbow]

yay! and hell, gnostics are heretics anyways, what's a little more blasphemy?

[Secret]

There was a time when things were so,
But it has gone away.
There was a time, so long ago,
Of there and then, that day.
The days have flown, each bringing change,
And life lived in a stream,
Until that day as past is known,
And is but now a dream.

Time wears away at bits of life,
What is will be what’s been.
The present is with future rife
And change is time’s strange twin.
The gleaming days and hours pass
And fill the world with light,
That’s gone before it lets us keep
What’s been, despite time, bright.

And when the blaze of light is through,
I’ll take a glass of wine,
And I’ll sit back and ponder then
The passing of the time.
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[Usagi Miyamoto]

"Somebody
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The reward for a good life is a good life.

[Guccipiggy]

Secret: I love that poem. This is incredibly weird because I usually despise poems which rhyme so obviously, but I love it. Great job.

Usagi: the thing I think I like the most of yours is that it... how do I put this? It screams oriental wisdom to me, for some reason. But it's not particularly like that. In any case, great poem

I have no idea how I could have missed this thread before. Here's my tiny contribution:

This Is Why

I danced away from the big-bad-wolf
into a skittle pool of sugary points
and adulation. The evidence
swam before me in colour;
contained by your arms
and the lingering air of something
which is not to be harmed.

Sometimes I sit alone,
between fluffed up pigs and
toy pink pillows,
wondering if one has to sink
low into themselves
to rise ego-victorious from the fall.

You believe it does not matter.
You think of me as your own Venus
in Dolce jeans and
new Manolo strutting jewels,
glamorous amongst the inelegant
characters of your disdain.

He thinks of me at two a.m;
He misses my perfume
when I leave: sweet, dainty
drops of salt-water and fear.

[Secret]

I'm not sure whether I ever posted this... (Oh, and Gucci, you'll probably be disappointed in most of my poems then - I write almost strictly in rhyme schemes, usually abab cdcd.)

How quick the summer turns to fall,
And slow the fall to summer.
How quick the white frost covers all,
As if in nature’s blunder.
How strange that ice refuse to melt,
As dark succumbs to spring,
And cursed the plant that winter felt,
That new earth dost not bring.
Ah, summer lost with golden heart,
And long-forgotten birth,
As darkness tears the world apart,
And earth returns to earth.
The seasons turn and ages pass, in nature’s way sublime,
While humans as its edges grasp, until the end of time.
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[KatiSorensen89]

This one is, as of yet, untitled, and not very good. It's the first poem I've written in almost four years. I was inspired I guess...
______________________________________________________________________________________________________

She holds her own hands at night
Never wanting to burden
Friends and lovers realized only
In a cruel imagination
A distant, aching dream

Promise never lay
Beneath those sheets
Love and Lust
Ancient gods both powerful
And deaf;
A beautiful man
With unassuming eyes
A slinky, clinging temptress
Nestled between their own quiet
Breathing

Apathy would be kinder than
The frantic searching
The hellish rush to find
A passion never lost
A hope never mastered
A love never meant to be found

She curses
Screaming with closed mouth and
Closed heart
Tenderly she kisses her hand
Then kisses her gun
And watches her baby
Die without living

[andrew]

Secret, the first one you posted on this page demonstrates an astounding mastery of language for your age.

Bra-fuckin'-vo.

[Secret]

I didn't think it was that good.
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[andrew]

There are some questionable parts with regard to tense, and one or two places where it sounds like you made a choice to fit the meter at the cost of precision, but it's light years beyond what several people were producing in my college classes (I was a creative writing major, with a concentration in poetry).

[Guccipiggy]

[andrew]

[Guccipiggy]

[Secret]

By that point computers will be able to write everything.

Seriously, if we're predicted to have $1000 computers with the computing power of the ENTIRE FUCKING HUMAN RACE in 50 years...
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[mouse]

ah, but will they have the soul for poetry?

actually, they might, but i wonder if it will be like a human soul.
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aka: neverscared!

[Major Tom]

this future computer will have to be more human-like in physique...with a recognizeable head, torso, hands and shoulders for storing the computational center, the powerplant and interactive functions, respectively...


...the computer's soul will be stored on a chip, appropriately located approximately equidistant from the other three main components -- off to one side where it will not be in the line of fire, should any direct conflict flare between the interactive and computational commands, or computational need and powerplant capacity, etc. -- but, still, where it can properly function as the 'keystone,' the regulator and the balance...


...considering the prime importance of the soulchip, and for the sake of redundancy, a second chip will be installed laterally.


as long as this future-computer has one good chip on its shoulder, it will be just like a human.