pouring out your soul
by closeyoureyes » 3/31/2005, 2:58 pm
i wrote this one at the start of the iraqi war... I was an angry little hippie back then!
gaunt and ghostly,
the children run,
for they have been forsaken,
with the burden of no fun,
the girls with the infants,
the boys with their guns
this isnt a game
this isnt pretend,
its not about fame,
but only revenge,
the flag in the distance,
people tense with fear,
sound the alarm,
planes begin to appear,
stars stripes and banners overhead,
attack is severe.
gaunt and ghostly,
the children run,
for they have been forsaken,
with the burden of no fun,
the girls with the infants,
the boys with their guns
this isnt a game
this isnt pretend,
its not about fame,
but only revenge,
the flag in the distance,
people tense with fear,
sound the alarm,
planes begin to appear,
stars stripes and banners overhead,
attack is severe.
sinead
- closeyoureyes
- Oskar Winner: 2006
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by nelison » 3/31/2005, 3:02 pm
One Shot Juanita wrote:I was an angry little hippie back then!
And what's changed?
I can't wait until the day schools are over-funded and the military is forced to hold bake sales to buy planes.
"It's a great thing when you realize you still have the ability to surprise yourself. Makes you wonder what else you can do that you've forgotten about"
"It's a great thing when you realize you still have the ability to surprise yourself. Makes you wonder what else you can do that you've forgotten about"
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nelison - Oskar Lifetime Achievement Award: 2006
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by trentm32 » 3/31/2005, 3:48 pm
"when it shatters"
rip away the empty streets,
and broken hearts
then there's nothing left to see
we feel our passion,
when it shatters
and there's nothing left to be
between the streaming tears,
and the burned-out candles
we lose the places we can leave
in the steeples that tear the heavens,
and slice the grey into the blue
is the place that I can never leave--
and the only place that's true
rip away the empty streets,
and broken hearts
then there's nothing left to see
we feel our passion,
when it shatters
and there's nothing left to be
between the streaming tears,
and the burned-out candles
we lose the places we can leave
in the steeples that tear the heavens,
and slice the grey into the blue
is the place that I can never leave--
and the only place that's true
"When looking up there, I just felt whole, like I belonged. Like one day I too would shine my most brilliant. Sitting there also made me think about sitting through services at my little country church back home. About that never-changing congregation of the same sixty-seven people and everyone has known you since before you were born. Now, out here in the real world, everything just seemed more vivid than when I used to sit in that little pew. That pew that was now so, so far away from where I was. I feared I had somehow left God behind there, too. I feared he was somehow just sitting there, saving my seat on the fifth pew from the front row, just waiting on me to come back. I left so quickly, I worried that he may not have noticed I was gone. And, now, I’m just too far away to find. So he’s just sitting there, patiently waiting on me to come back. I closed my eyes and prayed a moment. I hoped more than anything that he could still hear me." -an excerpt from my novella, A Sea of Fallen Leaves.
<a href="http://www.soundthesirens.com">SoundTheSirens.com</a>
<a href="http://www.soundthesirens.com">SoundTheSirens.com</a>
-
trentm32 - Oskar Winner: 2005
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by evanw60 » 3/31/2005, 5:32 pm
Late in the Night
Late in the night while women busy themselves,
Furnishing their love,
Men wait for them.
And while they wait they discover
Their lost pieces of faith
And fragments of hate
In their mirrors.
Late in the night while women sneak away
To limitless kingdoms of love
Men wait for them.
And while they wait they uncover
The secrets of some women
And the truths of most men
In their kitchens.
Late in the night while men lie awake in vigilance,
Dreaming of Jezebels,
Women leave them.
And while they leave they ravish
The hearts of the uncommon
And the seeds of the withdrawn
and feel no remorse.
Late in the night while women busy themselves,
Furnishing their love,
Men wait for them.
And while they wait they discover
Their lost pieces of faith
And fragments of hate
In their mirrors.
Late in the night while women sneak away
To limitless kingdoms of love
Men wait for them.
And while they wait they uncover
The secrets of some women
And the truths of most men
In their kitchens.
Late in the night while men lie awake in vigilance,
Dreaming of Jezebels,
Women leave them.
And while they leave they ravish
The hearts of the uncommon
And the seeds of the withdrawn
and feel no remorse.
This is my story both humble and true,
Take it to pieces and mend it with glue.
- John Lennon, 1969
Take it to pieces and mend it with glue.
- John Lennon, 1969
-
evanw60 - Posts: 561
- Joined: 2/23/2003, 4:32 pm
- Location: Ontario, Canada
by trentm32 » 4/2/2005, 2:28 pm
"stand"
praying you'll see this fire,
this twinkle in my eyes
that you've missed a million times before,
you miss, 'cause you don't know to try
just hoping that the light,
will hit the world, once right
and you'll see what's right in front of you--
that you'll gain your broken sight
yes, holding onto this hope,
will spill me to the floor
but I'll get back up, just as before,
and stand to fall once more
praying you'll see this fire,
this twinkle in my eyes
that you've missed a million times before,
you miss, 'cause you don't know to try
just hoping that the light,
will hit the world, once right
and you'll see what's right in front of you--
that you'll gain your broken sight
yes, holding onto this hope,
will spill me to the floor
but I'll get back up, just as before,
and stand to fall once more
"When looking up there, I just felt whole, like I belonged. Like one day I too would shine my most brilliant. Sitting there also made me think about sitting through services at my little country church back home. About that never-changing congregation of the same sixty-seven people and everyone has known you since before you were born. Now, out here in the real world, everything just seemed more vivid than when I used to sit in that little pew. That pew that was now so, so far away from where I was. I feared I had somehow left God behind there, too. I feared he was somehow just sitting there, saving my seat on the fifth pew from the front row, just waiting on me to come back. I left so quickly, I worried that he may not have noticed I was gone. And, now, I’m just too far away to find. So he’s just sitting there, patiently waiting on me to come back. I closed my eyes and prayed a moment. I hoped more than anything that he could still hear me." -an excerpt from my novella, A Sea of Fallen Leaves.
<a href="http://www.soundthesirens.com">SoundTheSirens.com</a>
<a href="http://www.soundthesirens.com">SoundTheSirens.com</a>
-
trentm32 - Oskar Winner: 2005
- Posts: 2272
- Joined: 3/17/2002, 2:51 pm
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by trentm32 » 4/2/2005, 9:34 pm
about three or four have been turned into songs. I hooked up with a friend of mine (great vocalist/guitarist) two have been recorded, and are on an EP he put together. I'd like to get a few more turned into songs, though.
thanks for the kind words.
thanks for the kind words.
"When looking up there, I just felt whole, like I belonged. Like one day I too would shine my most brilliant. Sitting there also made me think about sitting through services at my little country church back home. About that never-changing congregation of the same sixty-seven people and everyone has known you since before you were born. Now, out here in the real world, everything just seemed more vivid than when I used to sit in that little pew. That pew that was now so, so far away from where I was. I feared I had somehow left God behind there, too. I feared he was somehow just sitting there, saving my seat on the fifth pew from the front row, just waiting on me to come back. I left so quickly, I worried that he may not have noticed I was gone. And, now, I’m just too far away to find. So he’s just sitting there, patiently waiting on me to come back. I closed my eyes and prayed a moment. I hoped more than anything that he could still hear me." -an excerpt from my novella, A Sea of Fallen Leaves.
<a href="http://www.soundthesirens.com">SoundTheSirens.com</a>
<a href="http://www.soundthesirens.com">SoundTheSirens.com</a>
-
trentm32 - Oskar Winner: 2005
- Posts: 2272
- Joined: 3/17/2002, 2:51 pm
- Location: my heart is in New York.
by Random Name » 4/3/2005, 12:43 pm
trentm32 wrote:about three or four have been turned into songs. I hooked up with a friend of mine (great vocalist/guitarist) two have been recorded, and are on an EP he put together. I'd like to get a few more turned into songs, though.
thanks for the kind words.
Share!!!
-Sarah
Goodbye you liar,
Well you sipped from the cup but you don't own up to anything
Then you think you will inspire
Take apart your head
(and I wish I could inspire)
Take apart your demons, then you add it to the list.
Goodbye you liar,
Well you sipped from the cup but you don't own up to anything
Then you think you will inspire
Take apart your head
(and I wish I could inspire)
Take apart your demons, then you add it to the list.
- Random Name
- Oskar Winner: 2007
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by trentm32 » 4/3/2005, 8:20 pm
I'll try to find a copy of the CD...
"When looking up there, I just felt whole, like I belonged. Like one day I too would shine my most brilliant. Sitting there also made me think about sitting through services at my little country church back home. About that never-changing congregation of the same sixty-seven people and everyone has known you since before you were born. Now, out here in the real world, everything just seemed more vivid than when I used to sit in that little pew. That pew that was now so, so far away from where I was. I feared I had somehow left God behind there, too. I feared he was somehow just sitting there, saving my seat on the fifth pew from the front row, just waiting on me to come back. I left so quickly, I worried that he may not have noticed I was gone. And, now, I’m just too far away to find. So he’s just sitting there, patiently waiting on me to come back. I closed my eyes and prayed a moment. I hoped more than anything that he could still hear me." -an excerpt from my novella, A Sea of Fallen Leaves.
<a href="http://www.soundthesirens.com">SoundTheSirens.com</a>
<a href="http://www.soundthesirens.com">SoundTheSirens.com</a>
-
trentm32 - Oskar Winner: 2005
- Posts: 2272
- Joined: 3/17/2002, 2:51 pm
- Location: my heart is in New York.
by trentm32 » 4/4/2005, 11:29 am
thanks!
"When looking up there, I just felt whole, like I belonged. Like one day I too would shine my most brilliant. Sitting there also made me think about sitting through services at my little country church back home. About that never-changing congregation of the same sixty-seven people and everyone has known you since before you were born. Now, out here in the real world, everything just seemed more vivid than when I used to sit in that little pew. That pew that was now so, so far away from where I was. I feared I had somehow left God behind there, too. I feared he was somehow just sitting there, saving my seat on the fifth pew from the front row, just waiting on me to come back. I left so quickly, I worried that he may not have noticed I was gone. And, now, I’m just too far away to find. So he’s just sitting there, patiently waiting on me to come back. I closed my eyes and prayed a moment. I hoped more than anything that he could still hear me." -an excerpt from my novella, A Sea of Fallen Leaves.
<a href="http://www.soundthesirens.com">SoundTheSirens.com</a>
<a href="http://www.soundthesirens.com">SoundTheSirens.com</a>
-
trentm32 - Oskar Winner: 2005
- Posts: 2272
- Joined: 3/17/2002, 2:51 pm
- Location: my heart is in New York.
by trentm32 » 4/5/2005, 10:11 am
"line for line"
fiction hearts still broken,
with bitter monologue, felt too deep
all hitting far too close to home,
losing all that I can't keep
a forced closing of a chapter,
before I ever thought it'd end
which sentence suits the story?
to my will, why can't it bend?
praying it could all work out,
but the characters lead the way
to lose it all, just as I,
with these words still left to say
changing names, and changing towns
but the similarities burn too true
as letters shift, to subtle changes,
with it all there still to lose
so I'll fill these pages--
and call it all a lie
while the truth beats here, inside of me,
matching this, line for line
...
"old friends and grudges"
old friends and grudges,
held far past their prime
learning lessons, always the hard way,
saying it all-- enigmatic lines
but through this all I found it,
what friendship truly means
even though I have none left to tell,
but at least I finally see
fiction hearts still broken,
with bitter monologue, felt too deep
all hitting far too close to home,
losing all that I can't keep
a forced closing of a chapter,
before I ever thought it'd end
which sentence suits the story?
to my will, why can't it bend?
praying it could all work out,
but the characters lead the way
to lose it all, just as I,
with these words still left to say
changing names, and changing towns
but the similarities burn too true
as letters shift, to subtle changes,
with it all there still to lose
so I'll fill these pages--
and call it all a lie
while the truth beats here, inside of me,
matching this, line for line
...
"old friends and grudges"
old friends and grudges,
held far past their prime
learning lessons, always the hard way,
saying it all-- enigmatic lines
but through this all I found it,
what friendship truly means
even though I have none left to tell,
but at least I finally see
"When looking up there, I just felt whole, like I belonged. Like one day I too would shine my most brilliant. Sitting there also made me think about sitting through services at my little country church back home. About that never-changing congregation of the same sixty-seven people and everyone has known you since before you were born. Now, out here in the real world, everything just seemed more vivid than when I used to sit in that little pew. That pew that was now so, so far away from where I was. I feared I had somehow left God behind there, too. I feared he was somehow just sitting there, saving my seat on the fifth pew from the front row, just waiting on me to come back. I left so quickly, I worried that he may not have noticed I was gone. And, now, I’m just too far away to find. So he’s just sitting there, patiently waiting on me to come back. I closed my eyes and prayed a moment. I hoped more than anything that he could still hear me." -an excerpt from my novella, A Sea of Fallen Leaves.
<a href="http://www.soundthesirens.com">SoundTheSirens.com</a>
<a href="http://www.soundthesirens.com">SoundTheSirens.com</a>
-
trentm32 - Oskar Winner: 2005
- Posts: 2272
- Joined: 3/17/2002, 2:51 pm
- Location: my heart is in New York.
by evanw60 » 4/5/2005, 7:48 pm
do you ever get tired of writing poetry that rhymes? I mean, that assumes that you write nothing else, which I'm sure isn't the case. But after awhile for me I get really tired of it, and it makes me feel like a walking cliche.
This is my story both humble and true,
Take it to pieces and mend it with glue.
- John Lennon, 1969
Take it to pieces and mend it with glue.
- John Lennon, 1969
-
evanw60 - Posts: 561
- Joined: 2/23/2003, 4:32 pm
- Location: Ontario, Canada
by NCdudeN2K4 » 4/5/2005, 8:26 pm
Trent..u write some really good stuff, and your prolific. You can probalby write 100 songs in the time it takes me to write 3 or 4 good ones..keep it up.
- NCdudeN2K4
- Posts: 191
- Joined: 3/25/2005, 10:31 am
by trentm32 » 4/5/2005, 8:52 pm
I never get tired of rhyme-- I just approach each piece and topic however it seems it should best be taken from. I do tend to lean more toward rhymng poetry, because in some way I see it as more of an exercise to convey your point in a constrained environment. but if it ever touches the integrity of the poem; I scrap it.
"When looking up there, I just felt whole, like I belonged. Like one day I too would shine my most brilliant. Sitting there also made me think about sitting through services at my little country church back home. About that never-changing congregation of the same sixty-seven people and everyone has known you since before you were born. Now, out here in the real world, everything just seemed more vivid than when I used to sit in that little pew. That pew that was now so, so far away from where I was. I feared I had somehow left God behind there, too. I feared he was somehow just sitting there, saving my seat on the fifth pew from the front row, just waiting on me to come back. I left so quickly, I worried that he may not have noticed I was gone. And, now, I’m just too far away to find. So he’s just sitting there, patiently waiting on me to come back. I closed my eyes and prayed a moment. I hoped more than anything that he could still hear me." -an excerpt from my novella, A Sea of Fallen Leaves.
<a href="http://www.soundthesirens.com">SoundTheSirens.com</a>
<a href="http://www.soundthesirens.com">SoundTheSirens.com</a>
-
trentm32 - Oskar Winner: 2005
- Posts: 2272
- Joined: 3/17/2002, 2:51 pm
- Location: my heart is in New York.
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