APW: Icaria (Submerged in the Waters of the Sea) (531 hits)
Category: NoneLabels: apw
Rating: 1.61 on 22 reviews (Rate this item) (V)
Submitted by Orgasmatron (View user info) at 2006-12-13 22:17:18 EST
Hollow bones heavy with wing-wax weight break
Now to bank, to currents drowning, crowning kings
In blue and green and swollen skin, burst eyes
Screaming above violent, still-heart imperial;
Pride and vain dreams, wonderment, the marvel
And the man in one combining, the hand contended,
Hero, villain drinking mixed elixir quick,
Quickening the mind and drugging doubt and fear.
Seven score of sunlight placed between
The heavens and the simpler shades of green,
Then fast as falling angels comes the fear,
A fall, a shout, a splash no one can hear.
Youth to ash and future to past consigned
As elemental jaws begin to grind
Marrow from a shattered spine
As stone upon a curved-cut cup.
All the world a tiger
And every man a feast.
This is how the new gods die.
User Reviews
Submitted by Orgasmatron (user info) at 2006-12-18 18:15:17 EST (#)
Ranking: 0
Exchanging poetry with another dude. I am SUCH a "fagge."
Submitted by goferforhire (user info) at 2006-12-15 12:53:46 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
I also like Percy Bysshe Shelley- his poem The Flight of Love and also to a lesser extent Indian Serenade are intensely quality. Oh and I like the poem To -- because he doesn't make it so obvious.
"Bright reason will mock thee like the sun from a wintry sky."
"Wilt thou not accept the desire of the moth for the star?"
Submitted by Orgasmatron (user info) at 2006-12-15 12:20:39 EST (#)
Ranking: 0
I wake and feel the fell of dark, not day ,
What hours, O what black hours we have spent
This night! what sights you, heart, saw; ways you went!
And more must, in yet longer light's delay.
With witness I speak this. But where I say
Hours I mean years, mean life. And my lament
Is cries countless, cries like dead letters sent
To dearest him that lives alas! away.
I am gall, I am heartburn. God's most deep decree
Bitter would have me taste: my taste was me;
Bones built in me, flesh filled, blood brimmed the curse.
Selfyeast of spirit a dull dough sours. I see
The lost are like this, and their scourge to be
As I am mine, their sweating selves; but worse.
Give me Eliot, Hopkins, Wilde, Whitman and Renaissance dramatists.
Then set me upon a vacant isle in the Pacific, with nothing but sunlight and hours to read.
Submitted by goferforhire (user info) at 2006-12-15 11:40:38 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
It's true.
Fuck T.S Eliot, Gerard Manley Hopkins is the greatest poet of all time.
I do like Eliot though.
Submitted by Orgasmatron (user info) at 2006-12-15 10:06:03 EST (#)
Ranking: 0
No one, repeat - no one, can touch Hopkins.
Submitted by goferforhire (user info) at 2006-12-15 07:55:16 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
fuck you for making me re-read the entire Wreck of the Deutschland when I should be studying...
I'll probably end up re-reading The Windhover and Epathalium and Kingfisher and everything else too.
This Nietzsche isn't learning itself.
Submitted by goferforhire (user info) at 2006-12-15 07:52:58 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
I think you're trying to channel my favoritest classic poet here- Gerard Manley Hopkins...
but you don't really pull it off. Don't worry, no one does like him so there's almost no point in trying. It's still good to see though. It sounds cool even when it's not as good as his stuff.
Woot sprung rhythm
Submitted by goferforhire (user info) at 2006-12-15 07:48:30 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
I've always been obsessed with this myth
Submitted by Susie_Derkins (user info) at 2006-12-14 12:53:33 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
"Man was born to love-
Though often he has sought
Like icarus, to fly too high-
And far too lonely than he ought
To kiss the sun of east and west
And hold the world at his behest-
To hold the terrible power
To whom only gods are blessed-
But me, I am just a man"
Submitted by Anansie (user info) at 2006-12-14 12:04:02 EST (#)
Ranking: 1
I think you could make a serious go at this poetry thing. Did you know Wallace Stevens was a banker?
Submitted by Anansie (user info) at 2006-12-14 12:03:09 EST (#)
Ranking: 1
Considering all the poems written about Icarus, and considering who wrote them, you did alright, my friend.
Submitted by PokeyMen (user info) at 2006-12-14 09:57:52 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
The moral of the story: never attempt to fly.
Submitted by thecaes (user info) at 2006-12-14 09:35:32 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
For the poem more than the painting, though it's a good painting, for sure.
Submitted by CaptainThorns (user info) at 2006-12-14 08:59:46 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
Poor Icarus.
Submitted by Orgasmatron (user info) at 2006-12-14 08:19:58 EST (#)
Ranking: 0
Short-Hair Nymph has a nice rear. Pass it on.
Submitted by sicosemen (user info) at 2006-12-14 07:35:33 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
Computerized Diarrhea.
Submitted by Stagger_Lee (user info) at 2006-12-14 03:21:43 EST (#)
Ranking: 1
gonna go back and read that freaking long one you posted, too.
Submitted by Crystle (user info) at 2006-12-14 02:39:20 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
GORGEOUS
Submitted by charminglybeef (user info) at 2006-12-13 22:47:13 EST (#)
Ranking: 1
This is how the new gods die.
(I was going to negative two this for poetic effect.)
Submitted by Sacrilicious (user info) at 2006-12-13 22:43:46 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
While your language is often grand, you're quite good at telling stories in very few words when you choose to.
Submitted by HotWillie (user info) at 2006-12-13 22:26:46 EST (#)
Ranking: 0
That first line is a mouthful.
Some of the others seemed more sizzle than steak.
Interesting, though. Your stuff is never boring, at least.
Submitted by Sinistral (user info) at 2006-12-13 22:17:43 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
One post per day n00b