True Teachers

[Birch]

Oh, I dunno, maybe because you very rarely make one?

And then?

 

Do you want me to?

Something else?

[Informer]

And then?

 

Do you want me to?

Something else?

 

LOL. Just wondering why you don't make a topic very often.

Edited October 18, 2011 by Informer

[Birch]

LOL. Just wondering why you don't make a topic very often.

Well I'm not sure what I'd make one about. I'm very interested in getting to the bottom of traditions and picking them to bits but I don't want to offend folks with that:-)

I'm worried about various "out there" things but i don't want to be considered in that light only.

I'm interested in "tooling up for the takedown" so attempting to hone various skills based on "old stuff" and intuition.

Do you think I'm on the right forum?

[manitou]

Heh... for nostalgia's sake, I pulled the first poem I ever published off the web. Here it is. You can decide for yourself.

 

 

 

 

 

Your poem is a really interesting view into a particular moment in time. Was the reference to seeing only the color of the bathing suit lost innocence?

[Informer]

Well I'm not sure what I'd make one about. I'm very interested in getting to the bottom of traditions and picking them to bits but I don't want to offend folks with that:-)

I'm worried about various "out there" things but i don't want to be considered in that light only.

I'm interested in "tooling up for the takedown" so attempting to hone various skills based on "old stuff" and intuition.

Do you think I'm on the right forum?

 

Whatever works for ya. What do you mean by "old stuff" ? Like pre-Industrial revolution?

[Informer]

Heh... for nostalgia's sake, I pulled the first poem I ever published off the web. Here it is. You can decide for yourself.

 

 

How Long Ago

 

Earlier today, my brother sat in the living room watching porn,

he asked me at one point to put some music on,

And I wondered why, until I heard the notes

drown out the moans, the groans, the grunts, from the TV,

till everything was one monochromatic sound.

 

I remember when I was young and slept in the far room

back in the corner of the house. I would bundle up in blankets

and listen to strange sounds drifting from my parents' room-

I could not sleep till the creaking died down,

till I was sure the world would not turn inside out.

 

When I was older and sat in church, I recall a girl

who would show up in her white Sunday dress.

She was two years older and had already passed to the threshold of sin.

I would sit in the pews, my eyes pulled from the pulpit,

to dart at her legs, the small part showing beneath the slip.

She would cock her head and look at me smiling,

knowing what I was looking for, what I had not yet found

That dark piece of youth that sinks down through the sky,

quits tousling the hair, leaves kisses goodnight behind.

 

My brother is through with his movie now,

he sits looking at girls passing by to the pool.

I watch and think how long ago it was when I could look

and see nothing but the color of a bathing suit.

 

--------

Hard to believe I wrote that almost fifteen years ago... time does fly.

 

Aaron

 

I don't think its horrible. It is something most people can relate to on some level, which is important imo.

Edited October 18, 2011 by Informer

[Ish]

Heh... for nostalgia's sake, I pulled the first poem I ever published off the web. Here it is. You can decide for yourself.

 

 

How Long Ago

 

Earlier today, my brother sat in the living room watching porn,

he asked me at one point to put some music on,

And I wondered why, until I heard the notes

drown out the moans, the groans, the grunts, from the TV,

till everything was one monochromatic sound.

 

I remember when I was young and slept in the far room

back in the corner of the house. I would bundle up in blankets

and listen to strange sounds drifting from my parents' room-

I could not sleep till the creaking died down,

till I was sure the world would not turn inside out.

 

When I was older and sat in church, I recall a girl

who would show up in her white Sunday dress.

She was two years older and had already passed to the threshold of sin.

I would sit in the pews, my eyes pulled from the pulpit,

to dart at her legs, the small part showing beneath the slip.

She would cock her head and look at me smiling,

knowing what I was looking for, what I had not yet found

That dark piece of youth that sinks down through the sky,

quits tousling the hair, leaves kisses goodnight behind.

 

My brother is through with his movie now,

he sits looking at girls passing by to the pool.

I watch and think how long ago it was when I could look

and see nothing but the color of a bathing suit.

 

--------

Hard to believe I wrote that almost fifteen years ago... time does fly.

 

Aaron

 

Well I liked it a lot especially the last few lines.

[Birch]

Whatever works for ya. What do you mean by "old stuff" ? Like pre-Industrial revolution?

Probably a bit before that:-)

[Aaron]

Hello folks,

 

It's not a great poem, I know that. I couldn't see that when I was younger, but now I look and see things like broken cadence and choppy meter, those things could be fixed. Back in those days I was a hardcore beat, so I refused to revise more than once or twice. Since then I've learned how stupid that was (Allen Ginsberg for example revised "The Howl" more than 100 times). I'm still a fan of poetry, but not like I was back then.

 

Manitou, yeah that's what the reference was to, when you could look at a girl and not see anything but the color of her bathing suit. Anyways people grow and I know that I actually am a much better fiction writer than I am a poet, so I have no hard feelings about it, I'm just glad someone pointed it out to me when I was young.

 

Anyways, have a good night, it's bedtime for this bonzo.

 

Aaron

Edited October 19, 2011 by Twinner