Sunday, 4 August 2013

Poetry Corner #5: Dania Reborn

This was actually entirely formulated inside my head yesterday afternoon(now four days ago afternoon), I rarely come up with poems so completely in my head, but I had every rhyme of this one laid about before I indulged a keystroke. I suppose consequently it may suffer for it. You can be the judge of that.

(New Doctor Who is being announced tonight, so prepare for a sardonic article about that later on)



Silence, Reading, Heavy Rain
I look up, momentary pain.
From past to present
Here again.
Pulled back from my shattered brain.

Bed, Window, Warm Embrace
Unwanted glimpse of her face.
From present to past
It is like I never left
The consequences of our mutual theft.

Calm, Serene, Birds Tweet
The cost of something so sweet.
From past to future
How foolishly we planned
It blew away, castles of sand.

Up, Out, Computer Powered.
Don't face the world, you fucking coward.
From present to future
Another day, alone I stare
But with all this comfort, why should I care?

21 comments:

  1. This is so sad. Beautifully written. Love it. Big hug.

    Have a very puny, inferior one for you.

    Miss You

    I miss you in the morning most of all
    More than any other time of day
    As time goes on
    I think of other things
    And then, at night,
    I dream it all away.

    But first thing in the morning
    That is worst
    I've dreamed all night
    You never left at all
    Then, to wake and find that you are gone
    That is when I miss you
    Most of all.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Sorry as well to you for not replying. Your poem rivaled my own. I explained below about why I didn't, but Harvey made me man up.

      Thanks for the support, best comment section on a website in my opinion.

      Delete
  2. Also, for what it's worth, been there mate.

    New Dr Who, Benedict Cumberbatch please!

    ReplyDelete
  3. Best poem you have done so far, Mr Chapman.

    When Billy Bob had hay fever, I wrote this.

    Nose all sneezy
    Breath all wheezy
    Heat just makes you feel more queezy

    Clarityn and Benedryl
    Try to make you feel less ill
    But you sneeze and blow and sneeze
    Until

    Grass seed stops flying, after all
    Your eyes stop crying, afterall
    You weren't dying, after all

    Hay fever.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. If it were any anonymous stranger other than you thinking about me with hayfever then I might have been creeped out. But your poem has softened that feeling into a soft appreciative unease.

      If you have any medical or personal problems going on ranging from anywhere to a death in the family all the way to just simple gonorrhoea then I'd be happy to write a poem for you as well in return to show my gratitude.

      Delete
    2. Be not alarmed, we had a conversation about hay fever cures, remember? Stick vaseline up your nose? I have mild constipation ifyou want to write a poem.

      Delete
    3. Oh hey anonymous. This is one of the problems with the everyone's anonymous joke that we have here.

      Mmmmm it's possible that vaseline may be the cure for your ailment at the moment. Just adjust the location.Anyway here's your poem.

      Constipation: Mild,
      Frustration: Wild,
      I need an excavation,
      Of this anal devastation,
      Popped a lax, My rectum taxed,
      As I start to push,
      Forced from me, My Shit and screams,
      And my anal gush.

      There you go. You might claim at the end that the last 4 rhymes are all failed rhymes. I would counter and say that instead they're half rhymes, which are used in order to make the poem sound unpleasant and therefore implant the idea of unpleasantness into the reader's head to better put forward the complex imagery of shitting really hard. Wilfred Owen did it alot in his WW1 poetry, and in that sacrifice, he allowed me to create this for you. A man died for this remember, before you judge.

      Delete
    4. What passing bells for those who die as cattle? That sort of thing? Thank you for the poem, I will treasure it.

      Delete
    5. Oh. You meant Wilfred Owen used half rhymes a lot, not wrote about shitting really hard. My mistake.

      Delete
    6. Haha, yes, although maybe if he had he'd be remembered more fondly.

      Delete
  4. @Aaron. This is your new best poem.

    Dr Who, I'd love it to be Sarah Mullican.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Thank you very much, sorry for not replying, I'm a bit of a loser right now.

      (I was v.happy with Capaldi though Mullican would've been glorious)

      Delete
  5. Dania, from Denmark? Also means 'beautiful girl', either way an astonishingly lovely poem.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Yeah, Dania Latin Denmark. Sadly enough, I never knew that

      Delete
  6. Can I be rather juvenile? Birds tweet. I have a picture in my head of birds sitting with their I pads in the trees tweeting away. I need to be locked up.

    Seriuosly, liked the poem.

    Well done, Peter C.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Thank you my man, I also had the same image as I went to write it down, I guess great minds think alike

      Delete
  7. Concentration camps
    Ready to go
    Did they know
    They'd be needed again?

    Lessons of history
    The innocent slain
    For Gods sake, don't be gay
    And far away

    I hear the song
    The flags are flying.

    ReplyDelete
  8. Has someone stolen Aaron?

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Yes, laziness and Dota 2 have stolen him away. I'm bitching at him to get off, but he's changed. He's not the man I once knew.

      Delete
    2. Defence is highly addictive, we may never get him back.

      Delete
  9. Sorry I didn't respond to anyone. I didn't really want to look at Dania...I will do now to refute accusations of laziness and Dota (though I have played a fair bit of dota)

    ReplyDelete