I never stopped
I bathed in gold and knew no rival
My disfigured heart, no need for love
Lashed on by ravenous will
Devouring pointless joys of this pathetic life
But you

I write a poem you'll never know about
To heal the damage of restraint
A train wreck, truly
The inertia
Keeping my demon's hunger from your throat

I
Left lifeless, lost, imploding
You
Safe

I like the middle stanza especially....good chorus

excellent. H.

Johnny,

Chorus?


Holly,

H?

yes. H.

I see it clearly. H is for Hate.

Yeah, it'd make a good chorus for a song

Oh no. I just always abbreviate in a comment. I'm sorry. I don't hate anyone. I really think this is good. I won't comment on yours if you don't want me to. Holly

H

Johnny,

The "never know about" part?


Holly,

I won't fall for your succubi tricks!


Johnny,

H?

The whole stanza:

I write a poem you'll never know about
To heal the damage of restraint
A train wreck, truly The inertia
Keeping my demon's hunger from your throat

Good read Percival, but why always concerned with demons?


Les

Johnny,

So by chorus you mean the binding nature of the central stanza?


Les,

As to use of the word itself, it's the ripest word I've yet come across to portray the subject.

As to the use of the subject, my life has been little but my "demons" for quiet some time. I was a very happy person once, easy going, free, so forth, and smart as a tack to boot, but that changed, and how. Circumstances, beyond my control, drove me mildly insane, reducing my capabilities to a mockery of what they once were. No longer able to trust my mind, what had gotten me through everything prior, in a weightless manner, has been very difficult. Being removed from the life I was used to, adventure, creation, the new & exciting, beauty, but mostly freedom to do anything without getting in my own way, has been very demoralizing. On top of that, my brilliance still exists, burning away within as it always had, but the tools of it's expression, it's translation from concept, to thought, to action, are broken. I exist in a mental prison, a pattern of thought designed to keep those broken pieces, pieces of high importance in the functioning of the mind, from wreaking havoc on my life. The pieces broken, thus roped off, inactive, greatly reduce my abilities. "Demons" are my life, what I do, I need to return to what I was. My poetry, one of my self-help tools, is thus focused on it.

Don't be silly. You are no monk. H.

Percival, thanks for the explanation. Have you tried therapy of any sort?

Les

Holly,

You're right, monks tend to be passivists.


Les,

Yes, but I'm afraid it's not that simple. As I've said before, it's more physiological, the cogs of the machine broken, rather than psychological, the machine completing a silly task.

But Les, old man, I find it a bit rude to continually question without returning the favor. Tell me, to the purpose of furthering my knowledge, which will be utilized in my self repair, something of yourself. Specifically moments, times in your life, you underwent vast emotional change. I'm rarely treated by anything of such from you, and so have returned the favor over our years shared at the mule.

Specifically moments, times in your life, you underwent vast emotional change.

My greatest emotional change probably occurred in junior high school. It's been downhill ever since then.

Les

Come now, the devil is in the details.

mr p-

interesting word choice, "damage of restraint". been there, done that...and learned the hard way. good to see you sharing your poetry again.

Well, well, where the hell have you been? I thought I'd miss you this spree.

i'm like shoeless joe in the movie, field of dreams....

post your poems and i'll show up.

my noncyber life remains h e c t i c. but don't let me interrupt. i believe that les was just about to fill in some devil details....

i believe that les was just about to fill in some devil details

Yeah, when hell freezes over and judgeing by the global warming lately, I don't think that will be anytime soon.

Les

Entropy isn't what it used to be

Do you mean that in a good, or bad, way?

rweqvb noir[w fpqinew i!

[re:Johnny]

Edited 1 time(s). Last edit at 07/17/2008 09:45PM by petersz.

"darkness appear on its own."

Gabrielle Kreb

Perce, more seriously, the greater mercy is not to offer healing, I believe from my own point of view, when one is oneself damaged. I always delight in what you write, even if sometimes it might be beyond my kenning. Your brilliance remains obvious to me. I am sorry to hear of hard times, but we all share some of that. I ain't got any solutions either and am still learning to survive the 'breaks' in my own life [prison, the asylum, desertion, not in that order].

Peter

Red,

Thank you, as always.


Peter,

Aye.

I have something of a compulsion to not accept defeat, that and the comparison of my two lives, the former and the current, make self repair an absolute necessity. Though I often doubt my mind's comprehension of this, when considering the futility of the large majority of my actions.


Les,

It seems everyone is interested. Plus, you being something of the forum mascot, we really should hear this story.

OK, Percival here is one version of my life story: (all apologies to the authors of it)

When I consider how my light is spent
Ere half my days in this dark world and wide,
And that one talent which is death to hide
Lodg'd with me useless, though my soul more bent --John Milton

How long ago the day is
when at last I look at it
with the time it has taken
to be there still in it
now in the transparent light
with the flight in the voices
the beginning in the leaves
everything I remember
and before it before me
present at the speed of light
in the distance that I am
who keep reaching out to it --W.S. Merwin

Then, in the blazon of sweet beauty's best,
Of hand, of foot, of lip, of eye, of brow,
I see their antique pen would have express'd
Even such a beauty as you master now. --William Shakespeare

Shall I say, I have gone at dusk through narrow streets
And watched the smoke that rises from the pipes
Of lonely men in shirt-sleeves, leaning out of windows? --T.S. Eliot

When I compare
What I have lost with what I have gained,
What I have missed with what attained,
Little room do I find for pride. --Henry W. Longfellow

Perhaps they laughed at Dante in his youth,
Told him that truth
Had unappealably been said
In the great masterpieces of the dead: --Witter Bynner

When the white flame in us is gone,
And we that lost the world's delight
Stiffen in darkness, left alone
To crumble in our separate night;

When your swift hair is quiet in death,
And through the lips corruption thrust
Has still'd the labour of my breath -
When we are dust, when we are dust! --Rupert Brooke

Although, I admit, I desire,
Occasionally, some backtalk
From the mute sky, I can't honestly complain:
A certain minor light may still
Lean incandescent

Out of kitchen table or chair
As if a celestial burning took
Possession of the most obtuse objects now and then --
Thus hallowing an interval
Otherwise inconsequent --Sylvia PLath

Does my haughtiness offend you?
Don't you take it awful hard
'Cause I laugh like I've got gold mines
Diggin' in my own back yard.

You may shoot me with your words,
You may cut me with your eyes,
You may kill me with your hatefulness,
But still, like air, I'll rise.--Maya Angelou


Les

Edited 2 time(s). Last edit at 07/20/2008 10:26PM by les712.

Despite the furious curiosity born of this situation, a man as yourself, judged by the years passed between us, I'll assume good reason for your withholding, for what harm is a story? Oh well, assuming such, I'll not even try the subtlest of reverse psychology. But, as I said above, my distaste for defeat leaves me craving minor victory.

Tell me, if not the story, the reason for withholding? What danger do you perceive?

No danger Percival, just a preference for anonymity. I honestly believe unscrupulous people out there could use info. found anywhere on the net to forward e-mails, spam, and hundreds of other scam attempts.

Consider the following link, if I provided my last name here it would be all over the internet: [www.google.com] />
Some people like Bruce and Terry don't seem to mind that, but using google earth I could get aerial photographs of their homes on my computer in less than 5 minutes. The thought of that would make me feel a little uncomfortable.


Les

Edited 1 time(s). Last edit at 07/19/2008 02:26PM by les712.

The other day, one of the government (U.S.) official expressed the opinion that privacy is irrelevant in our time, that other concerns took precedence over the old-dated desire for privacy.

For me, I like not knowing too many details about Les's life because they are none of my business. I like reading his poems and his opinions, but the rest could only be an intrusion on my part into his personal life, quite apart from the security concerns he rightfully expresses.

My friend tells me the need for boundaries between any two people is a healthy necessity, is central to their health. Les is a long-distance friend, a poet, someone who provides me with information I find interesting, etcetera, but I have no need or right to information about his personal circumstances.

Myself, over the years, I have provided false information to the forum about myself [that part about being a multimillionaire from Chicago, for instance] out of a sense of fun and enjoyment of what I take the internet and any forum I sign up for (I am even of various genders fo Yahoo, Democaracy Now and thelawsofform.

cheers,

Peter

Peter, thanks for your understanding. There are many people here on the mule who I consider friends, but only know them by their logon names, such as Gwydion, Wicked, Illudiumphosdex, and Desire.

Les

Well, I assume you're not one to dance around a topic, so it seems you've misunderstood me. I'm asking for a story, not names, locations, dates. Assume one were to read what my earlier reply to you concerning demons. How much useful data can be found in that?

Percival many of us face obstacles in our lives, myself included. Not many of us characterize those obstacles as demons, my original question was aimed at your use of that particular word. I honestly believe that my personal story would bring nothing revealing to you as to why I asked that question.


Les

Edited 1 time(s). Last edit at 07/19/2008 10:17PM by les712.

Like the way this ends. It has a calm feeling. I enjoy your use of words to form a poem. Nicely done.

If you're so adamant in dodging the question, I'll leave it be.

"The need to delve, to bury deep into anothers life is a reflection of the fear of ones own"

Hey Percy, email me, I'll sort you out...

You would not believe the smile that put on my face, Camus. However, tell me first of responsibility, pertaining to this situation.

Oh, and thank you nolon. Do you mean the end has a calming feeling or the poem in general? As to your comment of my wording, I suspect that is due to our common background, at least I assume, of the net and our subculture's (gaming) vocabulary. Do you think that is an accurate assessment?

Yeh, I was happy with that quote. Best thing I've written all year!

Re responsibility - no strings attached, no jacket required, just shooting the breeze, I'm a really good listener, but I do get bored easily...

I'm not against it, infact I'm seriously considering it. However, I've learned that certain cautions are required, not identities and the like as those are easily skirted. What clues do I have that you will be responsible with the ideas, rather than merely pursue self gratification?