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Mists of Myself
Contributed by
puppy_dog_eyes
on
Thursday, 20th October 2005 @ 02:29:21 PM in AEST
Topic:
EmotionalPoetry
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Sitting here lost in the mists of myself
Reflecting on life and the purpose of being
Night turns me inward, decays all positive thought
Sickened by the overwhelming rotting stench of hope
Dark should be comfort when monsters of day are sleeping
But other demons lurk in shadows, come once more to cage me
Prisoner to their foul bidding, unable to run
They feast on my fears, regurgitate my anxiety
Black thoughts gather like cloud before rain
Cacophony of the negative thunders in my mind
Despair rides in like a horseman of the apocalypse
Slays the white knight of calm, hacks the limbs of reason
Sleep will be sanctuary, a pause perhaps no more
Tomorrow will plant new seeds in the garden of my soul
Will they be spring ambition and clarity of vision ?
Or once more choke and die in the mists of myself ?
Copyright ©
puppy_dog_eyes
... [
2005-10-20 14:29:21] (Date/Time posted on
site)
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Re: Mists of Myself
(User Rating: 1 ) by emystar on
Thursday, 20th October 2005 @ 02:45:24 PM AEST (User
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Very sad but well written.
I think we all have feelings like this from time to time.
Keep writing.
huggs,
emy |
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Re: Mists of Myself
(User Rating: 1 ) by Ravensfire on
Thursday, 20th October 2005 @ 03:07:12 PM AEST (User
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a Message)
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I agree with emystar, very sad. "Despair rides in like a horseman of the apocalpse" Man, I know that feeling, very well written. |
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Re: Mists of Myself
(User Rating: 1 ) by enigma on
Thursday, 20th October 2005 @ 04:09:04 PM AEST (User
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oooohhh...Puppy-dog...you are most certainly a poet...well, that is if I am a poet...
There are so many ideas to respond to..."Sickened by the overwhelming rotting stench of hope..." I bet you caught a few readers off guard with that one...wonderful intuity...opening a vast virgin wilderness of thought...isn't hope our friend? Isn't it hope that keeps us depressed puppies alive?
In Iodinelove's poem, The Wagon Began A Slow Journey Forward, nothing was focused on. Iodine's combatants were understanding and fear...fear morphed into nothing...in my response I stated what I thought was the obvious theme of the poem: Understanding puts our fears to sleep...our fears are nothing. I took a step further and suggested that our fears and hopes are a whole lot of nothing and when we clutter our existence with a whole lot of nothing, we feel like a whole lot of nothing...a pretty rotten stench alright!
I have a chemistry imbalance...profound depression and attention deficit disorder...my days were okay...a few stray morbid thoughts...but the demons came out at night for me...when I was too weary to resist the torturous, "Self" mutilating thoughts... inferiority...failure...guilt...shame... worthlessness...your second verse pretty well represents that...with meds, counseling and a whole lot of meditation, I dug my way out, but when I was there...yuck! And I mean yuck, not that other word...I very rarely use it... there are times when the ugly parameters of those four letters match exactly the parameters of some poetic expression...off track...
Your third verse does an awesome job...cocophany of the negative...Despair rides in...horseman of the apocalypse...slays...white knight of calm...hacks the limbs of reason...Oh, my Gosh! Such imagery! The uncontainable powers of nature and the disgusting viciousness of man...
When I was deep into my "Self" destruction...early college years, I wrote:
I would like to write
of beautiful things,
of the glowing sunrise,
of bubbling springs,
of the still sweet sounds
in the morning meadow,
the heart stirring glow of a smile.
But my thoughts are confined
to this turmoil within,
to the destructive forces
surging within;
twisting and twirling
unseen in the shadows,
unseen, but felt
like the maddened wind.
It is such a horrible struggle...if the storms within were given half the expressive power of nature...hurricane Katrina would look like a gentle spring rain.
You have captured that fearful tempest.
[Just one suggestion...your first line...I would leave out, "the." Just say shut-up stupid if you don't like the sound of it.
My favorite lines:
"Sitting here lost in ... mists of myself..."
"Sickened by the overwhelming rotting stench of hope..."
"Black thoughts gather like cloud before rain..."
"Cacophony of the negative thunders in my mind..."
"hacks the limbs of reason..."
Yup! You're a poet...
Thank you for connecting.
blessings,
enigma |
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Re: Mists of Myself
(User Rating: 1 ) by djs on
Thursday, 20th October 2005 @ 06:21:57 PM AEST (User
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now although it is true that i myself am not a good poet, i can still recognize talent when i see it and this was magnificent!!! you described your sadness extremely well and painted a very vivid picture in my head. very nice. |
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Re: Mists of Myself
(User Rating: 1 ) by scotsgirl on
Thursday, 27th October 2005 @ 05:22:16 PM AEST (User
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a Message)
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this poem really strikes home for me and i thought it was beautifuly written. the way you put things into words lets me see things so perfectly and clearly, beautiful, beautiful. |
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Re: Mists of Myself
(User Rating: 1 ) by Vampirequeen on
Monday, 31st October 2005 @ 07:24:28 PM AEST (User
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a Message)
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what could i say i agree with what everyone said.sad and deep.great job.
hugs |
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Re: Mists of Myself
(User Rating: 1 ) by emystar on
Monday, 5th December 2005 @ 01:44:30 PM AEST (User
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a Message)
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Steve,
call it what u will but it's definently top notch writing!
going 2 the next one.
huggs,
emy |
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Re: Mists of Myself
(User Rating: 1 ) by Former_Member on
Tuesday, 31st January 2006 @ 08:27:24 PM AEST (User
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a Message)
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I got up so early this morning, was not ready to stay up, so went back to bed. Tonight, I thought, why do we even try to get out of bed. I had to answer my own question, because it is a new day. Well, I very much enjoy your poetry, your poems speak out in many ways for all of us, 2 am writing is wonderful for you, take a nap, and do it again. love it.. raquelLeah |
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Re: Mists of Myself
(User Rating: 1 ) by ladyfawn on
Thursday, 26th April 2007 @ 02:24:14 PM AEST (User
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a Message)
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well woven words, excellent title, beautiful...
i dont know how you could ever dought your talent, youve always made it my pleasure to read you, along with so many others who love your poetry steve:)
love n' hugs nessa
roses |
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