Philotic Web

Hey guys, so as a tattooed, motorcycle riding guy who just posted a picture of myself with a giant knife and all, I probably shouldn't disclose this so I can keep my reputation up but I write a fair amount of poetry and I'm sure there's gotta be fellow PWEBers that do as well! I wanna read it! I wanna be inspired, inspire others, and generally just get creative juices flowing. So let's get this thing going, who's got em?? I'll start with one I wrote a couple years ago, but probably one of my favorites that I've written. Enjoy, let me know what you think, and post yours!

Give me a word, a thought, a picture, a phrase, anything to cut the shackles of my limited mind.
I lack inspiration in an inspired world.
A swirl of color, an ancient look, something to provoke my sleeping thoughts, to taunt them with wonder, with the promise of vastness.
I crave the screaming wind.
Topple the enormity of this blank drawn with seeming permanence through the canyons of my conscience.
Awake that sleeping giant that he may roam the vivid hills of my brain and drink deep from the pools of molten artistry.
Pour liquid words in my ear that I may be intoxicated with their poison.
String them together like a thousand horses pulling wildly at the reins of thought.
Pierce my sensibility and let the abstract pour from the wound, free to fill any and all avenues in it's path.
Scream in my head the syllables needing to be produced.
Form my letters, move my hands, make me a slave to them.
Let the crack of time's whip be silenced and replaced with infinities golden hand.
Weave in my mind a tapestry so brilliant, so intangible, so beyond imagination that no wall
neither stone, nor flesh can house it..
Extend its borders indefinitely that minds forever may be wrapped and held close in it's meaning.
Open my eyes anew, and though the colors of this world may be blurred and distorted,
create through me a masterpiece so profound it quiets seas,
shuts the mouths of the proud,
and makes explanation meaningless.

Now it's your turn! Let's hear em!

Ahh, give me some time to go find em. Far warning i can't rhyme very well.

Dude rhyming is hard, especially to rhyme and not make it sound cheesy. I have a few that I rhyme but a lot of mine are like this last one, free form, no rhymes, more stream of consciousness stuff. Do what you do man, I wanna see what PWEBers have cuz I'm sure there's a ton of creative talent out there!

i do free form as well, but im having a hard time finding my favorites...one in particular I wana put up

Here's my spur of the moment ode to Monday mornings, *ahem*

Monday mornings suck, Monday mornings blow.
When it's time to rise for work, I just don't wanna go.

I 'd rather lay in bed all day, or maybe on the couch,
heck I'd rather be just anywhere, even in a kanga's pouch.

Sure coffe's good, and music's great, I can listen all day long,
But typing files and reports to me just seems so wrong.

But here I sit at desk all day, just trying to get ahead,
But jokes on them, they'll never know, I'm playing on PWEB!

An ode to Monday morning.

lol found it:

The sides are drawn, the view is clear.  Our hearts are racing as the time get near.  Soon it will start and as if a sign of what’s to come, the clouds start to cheer.  Mother Nature soon opens up with all her fury.  As if daring us to stand firm when lesser would stay under cover.
The time is counted down as our adrenaline rises.  The three of us have our plans to run, though we all know that only the push of the opposite side will show us how to move.
3... The sky erupts as the seconds diminish; we hold our ground as the field fills up with both water and mud...
2… Our bodies get ready for the sudden burst from standing still to dead run.  Our fingers itch with the coming movement, sure to come from the action...
1... We set our feet, and Mother Nature once again dares us to hide as she pours out all she has in front of us, the water coming like waves crashing against a shore...
*whistle blows*
We rush for the first sign of a good position as our boots sink into the mud, only to have our run stop and turn into a slide.  Our first reactions are a panic before we steady our downward descent, now leaning into it to steady our aim.
Volleys zip past our faces as we fire back with equal intensity trying to keep their heads down as our slide’s speed diminishes.  Scrambling to get a new footing we stagger to cover.  Yelling can barely be heard between the clanging of rounds off random objects.
A second goes by like a small lifetime.  Do we push like the rain, run back out into the storm and master this field?  Or do we keep our gaze down and hide behind our cover praying for it all to end?
1… Did the others make it?  Or were they downed before the cover?
2... The sounds increasing, the other side is trying to make its move.  Movement on the edges of sight, they are coming...
3... No time left, push or are we to be pushed down to the muck, down to become like the ground, just a puddle to be stepped on?
No, we push…We push to take the next hill…We push for our own glory… We push to survive!!

Nice man, good stuff! I like the count down/count up thing. I gotta dig up some other stuff, I have books full of stuff I've written over the years. I know where they are I think, I just gotta remember to go dig em up with I'm at home.

Kepp em coming!

Well EAGLE, it may just be you and me but I'm hoping other people start throwing in as well! I have a couple more I'll throw out there:

Greener Grass-wrote it a couple years ago

Nothing more than masquerades, We hide behind these colored shades.
We hide the dark frowns with a smile, while bleeding hearts bleed all the while.
Conceal the wound and toughen up, keep drinking from your poison cup.
You wonder why wine tastes like blood, wonder six feet under mud.
If ever there was a time, to shed my mask and claim what's mine,
To flee from all the pain and lies, and gird the truth behind darkened eyes,
The time is now yet come to pass, but over tombs grows greener grass...


The Artist-Written sometime in early 2009 (One of my favorite rhyming ones I think)

The sky explodes with pink and blue
and purple all besides,
And in it through the waking morn
the sun no longer hides.

If I were a painter
with all inspiration gone,
I need only raise my eyes
to see the painted dawn.

Though the dark may hide the sky
with cloak and veil of night,
Close your eyes and dream a bit
and soon it will be light.

Even you can her it now
the noise that softly builds,
Till bursting forth with trumpet blasts
birds echo from the hills.

And whether born from raging streams
or softly windblown grass,
Colors from the artist's brush
usher night time pass.

ya ditto on hoping for more...kind of like my own writings and the story game I started but eh, *shrugs* some better than none and more read em that dont post

This is something I just wrote because I have tomorrow off!

Thursday's Your Friday

When Thursday’s your Friday, smiles ensue.
It’s like all of the planets are aligned just for you!
Your weekend starts early so kick up your shoes,
Because Thursday’s your Friday, and Friday’s your muse!

well, i'm liking it some here will maybe remember that I once started a thread for "Ender's Epic" - which several of us took turns working on! Unfortunately, I don't have my poems on hand, but I'll see what I can do, when I can get some time

Wrote this a couple months ago:

A mother packs:
small snack bag of stale Cheerios,
Extra shirt, pants, diapers,
and a sweater
(just in case)
and a sunblock tube
(just in case of that, instead).
Wipes. Don't forget the wipes.
Favorite board book,
favorite bug toy,
dirty and dangly.
Animal crackers for bribes
(in desperate cases).
Anything else? Right, the sippy cup.

A toddler stands near.
"Go bye-bye in the car?"
Smiles so big and waves, waves,
WAVES!
Ready to go.
He is traveling light.

Hah! That was great Starlooker, thanks for sharing! Glad to get some other people in on this!

ya more people...hmmm need to go find my other pieces now

A buddy of mine and I are trying to do some sort of writing everyday. We'll typically write random/silly poems and stuff and send them to eachother, and a few others that are in on it as well. Usually I just think of a random word and then start writing and see what comes out around it. Today's word was Beef...Not sure where that came from, maybe I was hungry. Here's my poem entitled "A Dog Named Beef."

There once was a puppy whose name was Beef.
He had big ol’ paws, and razor sharp teeth.
He had lasers for eyeballs, and that’s not it,
He had poisonous slime mingled into his spit.

His growl was so loud it shook nearby trees,
And God help you if you were nearby when he sneezed.
His fur was like nettles and spikey as hell,
In the place of his stomach was a bottomless well.

No one else seemed to like him, they all seemed suspicious,
But he didn’t kill often, he wasn’t that vicious.
He was my pup so to me he was cute,
Even if he did leave me deaf, blind, and mute.

Quick Wednesday poem!

Hump Day

Some say it’s crass, some say it’s lewd,
But I don’t see hump day as rude.
Like all the rest, it’s just a day,
Hump day is just a phrase we say.

It adds some spice to this mid-week day,
And lets us know Friday’s on its way.
So join me now for a Wednesday cheer,
Hooray! Huzzah! Hump day’s finally here!

My quick attempt at trying to have a positive outlook on the fact that I don't want to be at work...

Let’s Not Work

Monday’s suck and Tuesday’s blow,
Wednesday probably should go.
Thursday’s I don’t super hate,
And Friday’s getting close to great.

But Saturday, now there’s a day!
The birds will chirp and children play.
Maybe go and fly a kite,
Or sleep all day, and play all night!

It’s bittersweet when Sunday’s here,
But it’s still not Monday, have no fear!
You’ll still relax for one more day,
Then dream all week of Saturday!

Just think of all the things to do,
With sunshine, Saturday, and you!
Such great times, and so much glee,
So come and Saturday with me!

Again, not sure if anyone's reading these but it gives me an excuse to write. As anyone who's been reading can see, I've been trying to focus on rhyming ones because I always sucked at those and wanted to work on them! Today's is less silly, and a little more reflective, but enjoy!

The Search

Down the pathways of the mind
Like twisted, gnarled roots entwined
Searching day and night to find
What wasn’t there before.

We dig and scrape through fleshy soil
Through thick emotions dark as oil
And all the while through pain and toil
We see the open door.

Our fingertips are pressed on panes
Of eyelid glass and hoped for gains
The caboose is cut from unmanned trains
The race is run no more.

So walk this day down winding glen
Come away now from that lion’s den
Take heed then of the signalmen
The boat’s now come ashore.