Original My poems

[The Phantarch]

Crystallised darkness of the heart

Go now, begone
You haunt me all too much
Go to the days end
Never before have I felt such

Crimson streams,
Sirens' screams,
Winter passing over,
Winter coming over.

I see you through the night,
There you are,
Fact, There is no one in sight,
Reflected from a star.

Gut busting, stomach clenching,
A sensation all too old,
In a perfect nightmare I am wrenching,
My fault for being none too bold.

Crimson streams,
Sirens' screams,
darkness coming over,
darkness taking over.

Until now you knew but I did not,
You were the dove,
Me, I always just wanted to feel,
like a child in love.

A no-strings relationship,
Innocent and care-free,
Now I'm in two minds,
Of how to act and who to be.

Guilt streams,
Rejection screams,
Fear taking over,
Fear has took over.



Jaded memories

In the sky, your head towards,
The clouds of black smoke,
Up from the factories,
Where the demons of new awoke...

The dark of the thunder,
The silence of lightening,
Left us empty,
Half but frightening.

The small strand of honesty,
The rich vein of deceit,
Mined of its worth,
By men who hide under sheets.

The drunkards are plentiful,
the cowards more so,
The barracks of disorder,
Ready to overflow.

Cast a line to the pond,
You wait and you linger,
To catch some of the folks below,
Line, hook and sinker.

Your head is troubled,
Full of grinding gears,
Grimacing with guilt,
Flailing amongst your fears.

Watch all your friends,
Through narrowed eyes,
Ready to blame,
Eager to dispise.

What then will you do,
With your life cast aside,
Go and make amends,
Or hold onto pride.

What you receive,
Is for hour vanity,
You'll lose your heart,
Then lose your sanity.

Don't you cry to me,
When your life falls apart,
Reveling in your rot,
Too late for another start.

Delight in dcine,
Connoisseur of misery,
As this is now,
No more than history.

The rest of us,
We'll someday join you,
Knowing something,
You never thought we knew.


Inhale

When did it last snow?
Over a year ago!
I sit beneath the smoke veiled sky,
As time idly drifts by.

In and out beyond all reason,
All year seems to be just one season,
Counting up the days 'till I go,
To a place that feels like home.

Up over fields and pastures,
Where servants and masters,
They agree, They agree, They agree

Amidst hills and foliage
Where no one acts their age
You will see, you will see, you will see


The path of amythist light,
displayed before your sight,
deeply inhale!

Year in, year out
all screams and shouts
The pain of the mother to be,
To the dying shriek of her frail baby.

Wars also go on and on,
No good is ever done,
The impassive promoting their cool,
A failed detatchment from an existence so cruel.

Up over fields and pastures,
Where servants and masters,
They agree, They agree, They agree

Amidst hills and foliage
Where no one acts their age
You will see, you will see, you will see


The path of amythist light,
displayed before your sight,
deeply inhale!


close to paradise

Sun's glowing orichalcum light
Beaming onto a picturesque sight
The valleys roll on, emerald facets
Orange light to green flash as the sun sets.

It's a fine day for anything
A golden day for a drink
In a land of mead and rice
Close to paradise
Close to paradise

Bathed by the cool seas
We fill our mouths with mawmenny
Characterised by dances of joy
Swimming past the buoys

It's a fine day for anything
A golden day for a drink
In a land of mead and rice
Close to paradise
Close to paradise

Never once do we fall or falter
On our way down to an empyrial alter




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[Dark-Angel]

I really liked "Inhale" and "Crystallized darkness of the heart"

I flowed really well and had an aura of sadness to it...i really like it. i've got one. and another within a week. see what you think of mine's...https://www.finalfantasyforums.net/index.php?threads/13044/

 

[The Phantarch]

I really liked "Inhale" and "Crystallized darkness of the heart"

I flowed really well and had an aura of sadness to it...i really like it. i've got one. and another within a week. see what you think of mine's...https://www.finalfantasyforums.net/index.php?threads/13044/

Sorry but you are suffering from amateur writer syndrome.

Too much cliche and so many unoriginal metaphors, work on trying to think up original metaphors and really vivid ways to encapsulate the idea through use of words and phrases not used so often in the normal colloquial dialect and expand on it in as many ways as you can from there keeping with the core concept still at the heart of the poem.

Sorry to be harsh but if you follow that you should do fine!

If there's anything you don't understand then I'll get back to you.

my e-mail is: jv-2002@parrswood.manchester.sch.uk

If you need me to articulate further.

 

[Dark-Angel]

[sulks]

I said I was a begginer in writing!

 

[The Phantarch]

[sulks]

I said I was a begginer in writing!

I know, and that's why I'm trying to help you.

Not to worry, tell you what I'll post my earliest, it's not great but it's one way to show you that you've got talent.

A second chance

The rise to power is a lie,
To hasten us to die,
Let's watch the time fly by,
And blame it on the people

Let's reel the time back in,
Reel the time back in,
Let's reel the time back in,
And start all over

We have to give this another try,
Pressing onward, looking back with a sigh,
Let's keep running, my oh my,
And let it keep us youthful,

Let's reel the time back in,
Reel the time back in,
Let's reel the time back in,
And start all over.

The rise to power is a lie,
To hasten us to die,
Let's watch the time just fly by,
Together, before there's no us.

 

[Casanova]

You've a fascinating imagination for words, a lot more than I can say for your grammar.

Have you had any works published?

 

[The Phantarch]

You've a fascinating imagination for words, a lot more than I can say for your grammar.

Have you had any works published?

Nothing of mine has published...yet.

I generally have more than sufficient skill with grammar. I'm not a grammarian but I am taking English literature and English language for A/S level.
So don't try to denigrate me on my grammar.

It's just that I can't be bothered when I'm typing and part of being an adequate lyricist is to realise that grammatical boundaries are often ill suited to the musical world. As long as they make sense somewhere down the line, it doesn't matter. Through doing this you can avoid all the mistakes that amateur songwriters make including awfully forced rhyming.

This is one I wrote on the Iraq war. It's old and so not really my best. Still see what you think.

Redneck's War

Rampaging through unchecked,
Here they come again,
A militia of sorts,
Lead by the redneck.

Endless barracks,
Streaming claret,
Redneck's war.

One by one,
The straws of war are drawn,
In truth it's always,
Darkest before dawn.

See the children,
Bereft of innocence,
Through injustice,
This massacre's declared hence.

Blood for oil,
Extermination not defeat,
levelled towns,
Endless barren streets.

Viscous fluids flow,
Burning towns glow,
To the children, this is shown,
And is all they'll ever know.

The enemy,
The western world,
Blood money avarice,
These twisted wills unfurled.

Look at what you've done,
The rotting mountains of flesh,
Go back and admire,
The sweet-foul stench of death.

Endless barracks
Streaming claret
Redneck's war.

Countless needing epitaphs,
Forgotten cries, forgotten laughs,
For this crime you can't make amends,
So may they haunt you until the bitter end!

 

[The Phantarch]

This is a song of quite unusual style.

HOHIL (head over heels in love)



Now I know
the,the,the
safest way, it's alright,
nothing comes as foolproof,
even if it's nearly,
there's always a greater fool.

Every time I hear,
Now, now,now
It's all just fine,
A palanquin's a wagon,
Maybe it's empty,
Even so the carriers are still lagging.

One dark day and night

Given very much,
New, new news
Always different to the involved,
Their eyes convey nothing,
Even if they're hollow,
Still you know there's something.

Hidden in thievery,
Ha, ha, ha,
Scenario: perfect,
With, once again a perfect start,
You'll never know it's me,
Until, that is, I've stole your heart.

Another dark day and night

Is your head so really full of plastic?
Did you know what you were doing,
Would you share,
Would you share your feelings with me,
There's a conscience ticking through your heart,
Shared with me, but drumming as we depart.

Here, there and other
Know, know, know,
Holding on to old times,
Passing me through water,
Swimming as a mermaid,
There you are and I feel as I ought.

Silence in a storm,
shh, shh, shh
I'm shaking,
I'm as happy as a songbird,
Just because it's caged,
I need you to spread the word.

Given a nice home,
Tick, tick-tocking,
My brain has been swallowed,
Served as purple sushi,
Wherever you go I'll follow.


Another dark day and night

Is your head so really full of plastic?
Did you know what you were doing,
Would you share,
Would you share your feelings with me,
There's a conscience ticking through your heart,
Shared with me, but drumming as we depart.

Is your head so really full of plastic?

 

[Dark-Angel]

OK...thats last one was...unusual. The rythm felt awkward. If anything its a time signature i've never had the feel of before.

Bur still...i quite like it

 

[The Phantarch]

Well it's like, you get one band you really like, first good record or first two records but when it all sounds the same, I think why am I listening to this, I've heard it already.

here's another unusual one.


Long ago the twilight sun fell,
Your guts can feels it,
Yes they can,
Bloodied storeroom,
Screams drowning out,
Bound to Mephistopheles' spell.

And through and out,
Fear and doubt,
There's something lurking all about.

And in a deep, dank den,
Cut wrists lay spewing,
Old wills newly conquered,
Ancient resolves denied,
Eating mawmenny by the cart,
Drinking mead with a friend.

And have you heard the angels choir,
A celestial embrace through despair,
Nesting in our beds, beneath the sheets,
Travelling through life and death,
And through something else,
Ambiguity makes our case dire.


And through and out,
Fear and doubt,
There's something lurking all about.

Feel the breeze and the needles in your skin,
Flick through the picture show, a montage,
A shoulder through the arctic wind,
I'm afraid I have to give it to you again,
Now the children lose their innocence as comes ten,
Trapped through perpetual paradox and through a sin.

As people awake the birds in cabbage patches,
The crimson makeover disguise,
Clinging to like scellotape,
Trusting eyes turn to sponge,
A new soft surprise in your mind,
Passing through door and gates and locks and latches...

And through and out,
Fear and doubt,
There's something lurking all about.
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[Erythritol]

I think it's interesting that you called lone_wolf an amateur writer when you are sort of one yourself. I think you too suffer from this so called "amateur writer syndrome." Obscure word usage does not a good poem make.

" Crimson streams,
Sirens' screams,"

This is cliched. I find that any time "crimson" is used in a poem, it's generally an amateur poem. Sirens (I'm guessing you mean the mythological creature) are overused, especially in "dark" poetry. It just seems like these lines are from the song of some sort of goth band. That's the sense I get from your poems-- they seem very "Hot Topic"-y, for lack of a better word.

It just seems like your poems reflect your age. Not to say you don't have potential; I think you do. I think if you keep writing, you can become quite good. You have a pretty good sense of how words should be used and your vocabulary is very impressive.

 

[The Phantarch]

Yes, I do not deny that I fall back to old habits as well. However, I am now focusing on becoming as good a poet/ songwriter as I possibly can be. I thank you for your observation.

 

[The Phantarch]

Darkness of desire/ Light of love

Embracing the toll of what I had longed for,
Swiftly came the hellish burden,
I recorded as a quatrain of sorts,
And with the embers I walked on I held out my hand,
To escort you at the height of your loveliness,
A measure of chivalry now forgot.

Twelve lustrous verses recited forth,
A malevolence lingers over what we sought,
A serenade clings on to that which we wrought,
A sensation for which we fought.

The darkness longs for our return,
Stranded in through time,
But also a space as a continuum,
Seraphim salivate over your fair skin,
As fountains addressing your approach,
Now our choices are but to run.

Twelve lustrous verses recited forth,
A malevolence lingers over which we sought,
A serenade clings on to that which we wrought,
A new sensation for which we fought.

Lust in dark, love through light.
We lay somewhere between,
Natural highs, from our bodies sent,
Full hearted smiles and flowers ensnared in our souls,
Orichalcum shines through the glints in your eyes,
As there we let our bodies blend.

The malignity is overcome,
Our lives now through love we run,
The darkness has long since been shunned,
Awaiting a new start now the day is done.

 

[The Phantarch]

Newfound Joy
<hr style="color: rgb(204, 204, 204);" size="1"> <!-- / icon and title --><!-- message --> A fell feather flew frightfully fast past my face,
I knew a bird who'd lost it was short-since not in this place,
I learned a lexicon of wonderful and weird things,
Now rather than fell bells knelling, a spellbound bird sings.

Pessimism used to be all I stood for and knew,
Now I know more but I still don't really have a clue,
Both sides make as many mistakes,
But optimists have more fun in whatever time it takes.

The solutions present themselves in pairs,
So if one falls in two the will be four so no one cares,
What's so bad about living in jocundity,
when there's so many things to do and see.

And the heart makes a start,
With a breath of air,
The lungs do not shun,
What's rightfully theirs.

Problems lurk not everywhere,
Only those see and share,
Just like living conduits,
Their problems cause us fits.

I knew their candor can be hard,
And can feel a trifle bizarre,
There is usually a way around,
That obviously others found.

And the heart makes a start,
With a breath of air,
The lungs do not shun,
What's rightfully theirs.

So there's apt cause to be insouciant,
Now let your peace be adamant,
Reaping the fruits of life,
As time drifts idly by.