View Poll Results: Type me by my poetry

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Thread: Type me by my poetry

  1. #1
    Handler of Choronzon
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    Post Type me by my poetry

    This is not a serious post, but a fun one. I am interested in the IEs you people spot in my poems. This also gives me an outlet to share them since I don't really have another outlet.

    1/5 (this one is somewhat NSFW and may be a little uncomfortable, but it's symbolic)



    depression





    Before me unravels the expanse of life long-passed
    Trees of brittle bone,
    Blades of grass mere fibrous wilt,
    the landscape a porous brane, oozing dreams
    The sky spake unto me,
    whispering breath, gasping for life
    and all for me to be made of it was Despair,
    and cling onto it I did,
    But Despair latched back on to me
    and left me dangling amidst my own black reflection


    My mistress calls forth, Death be her name,
    she beckons me to the place where wind hitherto weeps
    A lake
    of purity,
    of clarity,
    of still embrace
    In the middle I lie
    not afloat, nor adrift,
    but bound by the water's kiss
    beneath the lake's lips, an orchestra of hearts
    yet heretofore beat


    Death, my mistress, straddles me
    Her skin warm, though unliving,
    Yet is it unloving?
    She gyrates unto.
    I do not want this.
    She breathes down my neck
    Warmth
    I do not want this.
    She gyrates unto.
    More
    I do not want this.
    She kisses my crest
    Seared
    I do not want this!
    She gyrates unto
    faster
    I DO NOT WANT THIS!
    Licks my lips
    Ablaze!
    She gyrates unto!
    Vehemence!
    My heart begins to hum
    I can not want this
    She bites my heart
    Wassail
    It palpitates ever fervently
    Thump Thump
    As do the many Hearts below
    Thump Thump, Thump Thump
    As Death drubs me with affection,
    with arduous quake,
    the hearts beat faster as does my own.
    Thump Thump, Thump Thump
    Thump Thump, Thump Thump
    The lake begins to boil, the hearts begin to glow
    THUMP THUMP, THUMP THUMP!


    ...I let go


    What remained of the once-lived universe began to un-integrate
    Lifeless matter picked apart and twirled around me in a swathing storm
    My mistress and I were at the center,
    the Eye.
    It danced in symphony for nigh an Eternity
    until it exhausted
    And like a torrent, the universe spilled upward into Nowhere,
    leaving me bare in God's infertile recess,
    though my mistress was ever bright as Mourn
    From my heart she fashioned circumstance,
    a flower, pale chrysanthemum
    From myself she birthed forgiveness,
    a fetus, innocence
    And she herself is wind,
    ever flowing,
    seeing naught but wishes and dreams as she pass.


    My black reflection stared back unto itself
    Shining naught but colorless light.
    But as life ever vibrates,
    it refracts
    Into the pitch spurs life evermore
    Singing in balladic harmony
    It seeks stability and roil
    of eternal fathom


    ----


    A child untainted
    plucks a dandelion from mother nature's loving hand
    and the wind blows it away with grace
    the child does not cry
    It smiles
    It giggles
    marveling at the spectacle that is life

  2. #2
    Handler of Choronzon
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    2/5


    Inarticulation




    Oh the Canary, his mind of tacit deliberation
    labors song of ultraviolet shrill
    seen only by his pseudochrome opal
    of kaleidoscopic panoply


    Oh the Canary, gelid is he
    frozen atop the crystal throne
    oblique is the refraction of starlight song
    wings outstretched, ever beseeching the distant sun


    Oh the Canary, procumbent is his tongue
    exhorted by the inoperatic tyrant of bitter utterance
    yearning for the taste of honey coloratura
    yet only effable is his cacophonous molasses


    Oh the Canary, tethered mountain is his perch
    of impossible marble anamorph
    abstract through sinuous crack
    and disseminated across the mosaic floor


    ----


    But oh, the canary encaged is free!
    sailing through the exorbitant tree
    regaling in vibrant canopy!
    swimming through dreams of lucidity
    exhaling numinous breath
    syntax of Eternity!
    Hark! the Canary!
    Hearken me!

  3. #3
    Handler of Choronzon
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    3/5

    Azteca


    Palace of ashen stone
    converging on the Isle of Gold
    What not is man, if but Its slave?
    exoskeletal nodes are the hive of Encephalon
    pulsating with flame


    the Scourge, oh how they scour!
    swarming Bronzen lands in bouts of fire
    nigh is the time of the final Golden hour
    behold the onslaught of vermilion ire!
    accreting slag to build their tower
    little do they know,
    they build naught but a pyre


    and so their tower was an altar,
    simulacrum of serpentine blaze
    transcending the depths of echelon
    red capuchin is the tribe of Encephalon
    Gold has dispersed into speckled rust
    the Jaguar's Silver iris glares down unto thee
    it chimes as does a bell
    oh yes, let there be a sacrifice

  4. #4
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    4/5


    Lucid


    we dance on the stage as heirs to the coil
    our play a panorama of dimension,
    a plot of intention
    holding hand in hand
    with actors wound by string
    tugging each other to and fro,
    nudged here and there
    and my eyes fall up to see
    our strings attached to the master's hand
    giving us a twirly twee
    I set to climb my tethers of thee
    as does a squirrel up a tree
    and I ascend the string
    only here to see......


    the face in the mirror
    the voided sky reflects so clear
    I see, I see
    what a beautiful dream
    I see, We see
    oh what a beautiful dream
    and here I lie awake
    in my lucid slumber
    eternally, the dreamer
    is the dream watching the dream

  5. #5
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    5/5


    The Sky Breathes


    I.


    Plunged into the plane of prismatic brane
    Circumventing the calamity of undeath
    Monuments of height accrue


    Gliding through the river of the aether
    Which slakes the drought of the cranial orifice
    And quells the fathoms from which we children grew


    The protracting branches of chalcedony
    Drape upon us with heartfelt tune
    We know its celestial chords ring true


    As we inhale the cerulean mist
    From the gallivanting divinity
    the sky breathes through




    II.


    Razed by the zenith of the pillars
    is the moor of emerald grain
    Pummeled into jaded gravel
    Dragooned by the draconic will
    of the vacillating seas of inversion
    and saturated by the perspiring wails of the cherubim


    We prostrate before the stark corona
    Our amnesty eclipsed by the tragedy of undeath
    feeling the creeping singe of hell scale our spine
    The solemn beckoning calls of the heavens surround us
    yet we taste bareness and apostasy on the tips of our tongues,
    for we are the gluttons of our own filth and ash (oh, how sweet the taste)


    Serenity screams, and we rebound a visceral shatter
    A scedastic furcation across the furrowed void at our feet
    The gasping breath seeps through the cracks between our writhing toes
    because we are falling far, far beyond the margin of error
    And even though our divorced bodies yet still do waltz,
    We do not see the dance for the darkness around us is a blinding light




    III.




    A blanket of red dust befalls the sky,
    a brilliant shimmering banner to enlighten our dusk
    Though the illumined is not seen forever
    So gently do go stride in peace these shifting sands
    In unrestrained pace, all will converge to now
    But on this heart of glass the floor may draw beneath your feet
    So brandish your placid blades with strikes and whispers
    and softly, softly
    slay the father


    A great pilgrimage to the peak where all shall meet
    is the communion of saints once sinners once saints (oh sinful saints)
    It was inevitable unbeknownst to our plastic frays
    Now an urbane decorum on every shelf once grey
    is a simulacrum of our magnificence,
    an inverse nativity of a brain through a brane
    defenestrated into the open window, the one window
    And consummate we stand here looking up through our dome hearth
    All bearing witness to the final somber breaths of twilight




    IV.




    Thousands of smiles coruscate my crown
    I need not roll my eyes to see, I see everything
    and it all is a lucid dream
    A static fleeting of that which is unspoken, but inevitable ubiquitous coherence
    A tautological conveyance in truth, in totality
    So listen not to my words, but listen through my words...
    ... just do not forget to partake to my words, to me
    'Tis the singular pluralistic sprawling unto me
    I am Hitherto
    when again we are plunged into wake

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  7. #7
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    Lots of Ni, I like it.

  8. #8
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    Ermahgerd [awkward cringe teenage] poetry? He must be IEI!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

    Its settled boys

  9. #9
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    Quote Originally Posted by Number 9 large View Post
    Ermahgerd [awkward cringe teenage] poetry? He must be IEI!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

    Its settled boys
    lol, these are the only poems I have ever written or intend to write.
    Fuck, I hate that I made that "[awkward cringe teenage]" impression, but I did expect it. I feel called out lol

  10. #10
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    Quote Originally Posted by DeliMeat View Post
    lol, these are the only poems I have ever written or intend to write.
    Fuck, I hate that I made that "[awkward cringe teenage]" impression, but I did expect it. I feel called out lol
    Thats what i do

  11. #11
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    Quote Originally Posted by Number 9 large View Post
    Thats what i do
    ah yeah, call me out more on highly regrettable shit. It's my kink

  12. #12
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    Quote Originally Posted by DeliMeat View Post
    ah yeah, call me out more on highly regrettable shit. It's my kink
    If u say so

  13. #13
    Handler of Choronzon
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    Quote Originally Posted by Number 9 large View Post
    If u say so
    do it you big stinky bitch

    don't disappoint me

  14. #14
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    Quote Originally Posted by DeliMeat View Post
    do it you big stinky bitch

    don't disappoint me
    Eh no

  15. #15
    Hot Scalding Gayser's Avatar
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    Wel... at it's 'core' Poetry itself is a very ESI-ish thing to me. A bunch of Se sensing shit and then Fi, how a person relates/doesn't to it. And kinda invokes people in to listen to it in that more private sphere of feeling.

    IEIs could be poets but I kinda agree more with @Lolita that we're a lot more 'normal' than people think. I've written poetry before but I'd rather read crap ESIs wrote.

    So it's hard to go by that. Or everybody who writes poetry a lot would be ESI. I guess... they kinda are. /lol remembers lungs' blog.

  16. #16
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    Quote Originally Posted by BandD View Post
    Wel... at it's 'core' Poetry itself is a very ESI-ish thing to me. A bunch of Se sensing shit and then Fi, how a person relates/doesn't to it. And kinda invokes people in to listen to it in that more private sphere of feeling.

    IEIs could be poets but I kinda agree more with @Lolita that we're a lot more 'normal' than people think. I've written poetry before but I'd rather read crap ESIs wrote.

    So it's hard to go by that. Or everybody who writes poetry a lot would be ESI. I guess... they kinda are. /lol remembers lungs' blog.
    I wouldn't call myself a poet. I have only written those 5 poems throughout my life and they really don't do much for me tbh. Nor do I ever read poetry. I'm a fraud, guilty as charged. I posted these to the thread because I just have them sitting in my computer collecting digitized dust.

    This thread is less about the fact that I have written poetry and more about what type of IEs are present in something I have produced. That is all.

    And yes, I'd also agree with @Lolita that IEI are much normal than people think, but that doesn't really have anything to do with this thread unless writing a poem is necessarily a testament to my sense of "uniqueness".



    This is strictly about the IEs present! not the fact that it is poetry!

    EDIT:
    I remember why I wrote these poems in the first place. I often have a hard time expressing and articulating myself and a friend encouraged me to find a creative outlet to do so. Hence, the poems.

  17. #17
    I don't play, I slay. Lolita's Avatar
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    You actually sound very Ne... so some sort of NF like IEE or EII. It’s a lot of pieces that are pulled together but they’re disjointed and don’t fit together.

  18. #18
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    @DeliMeat

    I was talking more about poetry in general not necessarily what you wrote, so it's all okay bro.

    But if you want me to type your poetry- I think there was a lot of Fi in it cause you kept saying 'I do not want this' ((attraction and repulsion)) but you also said it over and over again and then shouted which was kinda Fe lol.

    A lot of Ne/Ni and Fe/Fi, I think. Which hey- are your 4 strongest functions (all of these are either 3D or 4D in IEIs) naturally so makes sense.

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