Your artistic endeavours

Why thank you, Uver (and keepit)! :D
I wasn't so sure how those poems would hold up.
Would you mind perhaps PMing me that depressing poem, Uver? Only if you're completely comfortable, of course. I'd completely understand if you wouldn't want to.
As sad and strange as it seems, I just thrive on depressing things.
 
I would if i could find it, ive been looking for it for months. Its an i am what i am poem though, which has two lines then I am what I am. Mine usually had things that almost contradicted themselves. Ill look for it though.

EDIT- To answer the instrument question, I
Sing
Play Tuba -WOOO!-
Mess around on guitar
And im gonna be rocking on the bass in 1 week, 4 days, AKA my birhtday!
 
Damn, I wish I didn't have to work tonight or else id be all over this....

First, a poem to get me rolling.

Revolt

Take up arms! Join our cause!
Leave your thoughts with little pause
to change our world we need violence,
to quell the discontent and silence.
Let our voices be heard, joined together,
our actions judged for the better
so change is brought and tyranny destroyed,
so we can live! We must deploy
our might collected, orderly, yet strong.
To fight it out, victory or be gone!
Against oppression, corruption and greed,
To fulfill our passions, wants and needs.
We fight with force, with tooth and nail,
we resist their ways, but to no avail.
The cycle continues, in ebb and flow
as the tyrants sword swings the final blow,
our hopes dashed, our leaders maimed,
they take more from us, keep us constrained,
with every passing second, minute and hour
they regain what they lost; unquestionable power.
But ideas never die, immune to flames and steel,
they live on again, to never bend or kneel.
To the powers that grasp us by the neck
that drive us to chaos, insanity, heck;
they control us for as long as they can,
because the power of one, be woman or man
can break the hold across our throat,
and start again, the long revolt.
 
More photography, as per usual:

By_Their_Fruits____by_EricDM.jpg



Weary_Beneath_the_Sun__s_Fury_by_EricDM.jpg



Slow_Eating_Is_Healthy_Eating_by_EricDM.jpg



Sign_Seeker_by_EricDM.jpg
 
Wow! I really like those photographs, particularly the one with all the stop signs. They're great :D, I have a friend who I believe would absolutely adore these. :)
 
lawn%20chair%201.jpg


"look at me i took a picture of a lawn chair casting a shadow - im soo brooding and deep" -stewie griffin.
 
I wrote this three years ago, and looking at it it's kind of lofty and has some unecessary stanzas, but I wouldn't change it for the world. I still think it's one of my best poems.

The Heart And The Mind

The heart and the mind go against each other,
When one conflicts with the other,
A simple notion that should be complete,
Is hindered because of their need to compete,
You want to love and never hate,
Yet you continue the inner debate,
You want to show how you feel,
Yet your silence indicates the ideal,
The thought of being shunned or rejected,
The idea that you will be neglected,
Casts the doubt that clouds the mind,
And forces you to be left behind,
As darkness consumes all your thoughts,
And despair invades, destroying your heart,
Your will to love, to hate and care,
Is lost in this dark despair.

When the heart knows what it needs,
But the mind quickly disagrees,
Is when the struggle will first begin,
And chances are neither shall win,
For the darkness that invades you so,
Will take over the path you will go,
And never let go, until the end,
When you plunge and then ascend,
But not all hope can be cast aside,
For sometimes a truce is made inside,
For the mind and heart are weak divided,
Which is why they survive when united,
To show that love, and to end the silence
To complete the acts with pure defiance,
To what may be considered proper or true,
The heart and the mind will then shine through,
And in the end the dark despair,
Is lost in truth and the need to care,
For the heart and mind can reveal all,
And together, at last, they shall never fall.
 
Nice poem, LinksOcarina. Very well written. I don't think it needs a re-write or anything of the sort. It's good! :)

Damn we should all be in some coffee club place, wearing berets, having coffee while someone reads out these poems and someone else is on some bongos. ;) I've always honestly wanted to go to one of those places.. and I honestly want to buy a beret but I can't find one anywhere. >_<
 
^France for the beret.. or the internetz.

And believe it or not, a local Seattle rapper used to have a thing where he would invite some people to meet with him at a Starbucks and just talk and share things. The one I went to, he wanted us to bring something we'd written, and we read them around. It was very cool, actually. The rapper's name is J.Pinder http://www.myspace.com/jpinder and he's very cool. He seems like he'd be good for this.
 
Here are a few pictures (resized to fit better here)

C.jpg


P.jpg


T.jpg


D.jpg


Great stuff so far guys, I really like that poem links.
 
Oh I see. Fair enough. :( (about the beret)

That sounds cool. I'd like to go to one of those things, like go somewhere and just.. share creative works, whether it be art or readings, stories, poetry, just anything creative, really. I don't know if anything like that ever happens in the town I live in (I live in Australia).

As for the beret.. yeah my reasons behind that are dodgy :p. As a joke I said to my friends "When I graduate I am so going to buy a beret, even if I don't wear it I'm going to buy it".. and, well now I've finished my degree so.. I kinda want to get it for giggles. :p

[Edit/Update] To Lentium, I JUST saw your post as I posted. Wicked photographs, I love the traditional black and white photography, I think my favourite one would have to be the finale, involving the mirror. :)
 
Ha ha! Cool thanks keepithowitis, I'll book mark the page and get some money on my PayPal (I don't have a credit card). Thanks for the link! I was more or less looking for the more.. artsy looking French-style berets but thanks regardless man. :)
 
wow.....all of you guys are really talented.

Now, if only i had my fucking camera so i could take some pics of my artwork and load it up.
 
Love those photos Lentium. Actually like everything I've seen in this thread.

Here's a couple of pieces I've done lately.

Missing Monday
-------------------

Pound your head against the thick grey wall
If your life's about to fall tragically
Out of sync
With everyone elses picket fence existence

Stress is like me
Making it through the week
Without missing a beat
Check out the lyrical flow

I'm probably kidding myself
My songs are like my singing voice
They suck

But if you're deceived
Then let's not break this spell
It could end well
If you're
Fractured
Uncertain
Unexcitable
Missing Monday

I'm not waxing lyrics
With honey so sweet
Or a smooth and shiny polish
I'm just trying to make you feel

And I'm trying to make me feel
Again



Clouds in the Sky
--------------------

I took a drive today
Just to see if I'm alive today
And as we crossed the bridge
I traced the clouds in the sky
As if they weren't just a lie

Burn down the clouds
All the vagrant shadows
Because I want more than I feel
Just give me something other
Than a crutch for a cripple

But too much fake splendour
Is more then I can bear
There's nothing here
That I can trust

What's real to me
Is something I will never understand
But I'll try and rewrite my life
Make the clouds live again

So put them back
Paint the blue over
With my forgotten dreams
The nightmares too
Because they show me
More and more of you

Now as the sun
Gets pushed to the back
The light vanishes
The candle blows out
But I see you clearer
Standing in the dark
Silhouetted by your own halo

So block out all the light
Artificial in a sense
And you'll see what I mean
When I say that the clouds are real
 
Opening Lines



He felt very solicitous, pacing in his hotel room. The candlelight was illuminating the darkened room, with only the soothing winds of the autumn sky slowly blowing the linen curtains of his square window. He felt stressed about the anticipated speech tomorrow, moreso than any other he has had to deliver in his lifetime. Upon his desk were the scattered thoughts that surged in his mind. The scribblings that he hopes will become something to say for tomorrows procession.

He stopped his pacing, and sat down at the oakwood desk next to the makeshift dresser in his hotel room. He could see the ink slowly drying on his parchment. He recited the words in his mind, annunciating the syllables he felt were important, stressing the points he wished to make. He wanted to make it short but poignant, like all of his speeches.

Of all parts of the speech, it was the beginning line that always gave him the most trouble. Oh sure, it may not be the most important line in what he says, hence his great confidence in crafting a significant closing argument for weeks on end, especially in his train ride here. His confidence for the opening lines, however, was always wavering. He needed to hook his audience to become engaged in what he is saying. He needed the perfect use of prose to gain their attention.

The sudden knock at his hotel door startled him back to reality. Fixing his night coat, he quickly rose from his chair and opened the door, somewhat surprised to see a fresh face holding a dim lantern in front of him.

“Excuse me sir, I just wanted to see if you were ok?â€
 

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