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Righteous
I write poems and sing under the pseudonym Tragick the Clown. There's a bit of logic behind it, but I was up until God-knows-when partying last night, so I don't feel like getting into it. Here are some poems and a song I recently wrote:

Chemical Victim
Pretty eyes, bloodshot, dilated,
Pretty nose, full of powder,
Pretty mouth, passing fog and poison,
Pretty arms, punctured, pinholed,

Chasing the thrill,
It never ends,
Living the life,
Betraying a friend,
I canít ever help you,
It kills me within,
My chemical victim,
Living in sin.

Crazy life, fraught with danger,
Crazy times, chasing beauty,
Crazy highs, fast, sick and twisted,
Crazy memories, wonít ever let go,

Drowning your fears,
Wondering where youíve been,
The end of the dream,
That I never was in,
Have a good time,
ĎCause soon itíll end,
My chemical victim,
Are you still a friend?

It pierces your arms...
It fills your lungs...
It enters your mouth...
It goes through your nose...

Chemical victim.

First Look
I was waiting at the door,
Until I saw you.
A smile split my stone face
As my completion stood before me.
Lips met in an awkward kiss.
Arms met in a fated embrace.
The angels danced at the sound of their work.
I held onto my eternal dream.
For once, I felt whole.
I later lay beside you.
I felt it.
True love,
Lying cheek to cheek,
Harsh stubble against tender flesh.
My green eyes became lost in your gray irises.
I wanted to cry or sing; Iím not sure which.
We were both scared as our skin touched.
But in your arms, I felt whole.
Every fear, every doubt, every insecurity flashed.
But I knew in my heart, we deserve each other.
God made each for the other.
My fear silenced.
We remained enveloped in our peace.
Our ecstacy was a miracle.
Providence was our guidance.
Every moment with you was pure.
We lost our lives each other,
Forever joined in our perfect death.
Nothing else existed,
And never will.
You are my all on this Earth,
And forever will you be.

Memories
Memories of my mind reveal serenity.
There were once blue skies and green woods.
The rain fell from dark clouds on cold days.
I walked with solitude by the river.
The moss sank beneath my feet.
My world changed radically, slowly.
The gray road turned black while the trees fell.
Watching eyes amplified my anguish.
Solitude became loneliness.
Surrounded by walls, I became.
Fear and confusion clouded my vision.
False ecstasy haunted my every thought.
I was scared and alone for so long.
My outside was a shell, a wall.
My spirit lay only in words.
The pen and note were my only friends.
Cowardice was my only comfort.
Violence was in and around me.
Sadness was beneath and above me.
I had no point in living,
Save what I watched and read.
I was delivered years ago
And still have not returned.
The cave that was my past, however,
Never will it leave me.

What Is Art?
What is art?
Can you touch it?
Is it a picture?
A song?
An act?
A creation?
A feeling?
An experience?
A life?
An everything?

What is art?
Who owns it?
Who has it?
Who does it belong to?
Does it belong?
Does it stay?
Does it leave?
Does it remain?
Does it exist?

What is art?
Do we hear it?
Do we see it?
Do we feel it?
Do we touch it?
Do we taste it?

What is art?
Does it have rules?
Does it listen to us?
Do we rule it?
Does it rule us?

What is art?
Why do we ask?
What is the truth?
What do we hope to find by asking?

What is art?
Itís whatever you want it to be.
rockyhorrorfan
i've dance to the music inside my head
i've wished upon a falling star
i've kept a secret
i've cried alone
i've hid my feelings
i've let them show
i've lost good freinds
i've found myself
i've acted stupid
i've closed my eyes
i've opened my heart
i've lived my life

i can't stand the asking. the pleading
and the look in your eye
when i say no
disappontment and anger
mixed together
taking out your feelings on another
whenever i say no
no matter the question
or at what cost
my answer brings fury to your eyes
and hatred to your lips
in my futile attmept to please you
i have hurt myself


he saw her in the hallway with a broken smile
then again under the weeping willow
as the rain began to pour
he moved closer, saw her crying
gave her a hand
brushed away the tears
watched as her head hit his shoulder in a deep and troubled sleep
then slipped away
leaving beside her a red rose
rockyhorrorfan
i forgot the one that i REALLy like. sorry bout that

a vast abyss spread out beneath me
an unkown ending to a story never told
the darkness is engulfing feeling as if drowning
in the darkness of the abyss
falling until the end of time
there is no way out
watch as the darkness covers me for good
trunks_girl26
Ri does poetry too??? *falls in love* You are officially my hero, along with Mittens and Shrimp flavored ramen.

Memories and First Look are definately my favs, and I'd love to read any others you've got......
Righteous
This one's depressing. It's about an ex I was dwelling over for eight months or so.

Firefly
Every night in the sky I look for your light.
I search every star to see your face.
I remember the time when we shared our lives.
You used to lay by my side but you left me to fly.

And if I never walk by your side
And if I never look into your eyes
And if I know you won't be mine
You're still my firefly.

I see you hold his hand. I hear you call his name.
You know I love you and I know you love me.
You're my best friend and you will always be.
You're still in my heart as I watch you fly.

And if I never walk by your side
And if I never look into your eyes
And if I know you won't be mine
You're still my firefly.

If you're gonna fly...
If you're gonna fly...
Fly high for me.
Fly high for me.

And if I never walk by your side
And if I never look into your eyes
And if I know you won't be mine
You're still my firefly.
trunks_girl26
I said it before, and I'll say it again.

Awww, Ri has such a cute soul. *snuggles Ri's soul*

*bounces off to do more weird things*
voices_in_my_head
you can snuggle a soul? who knew?


But the poetry is awesome, dude. I've never been to good at giving reviews so I'll just leave it at that.
Quoth(The Raven)
Wow. Very Evocative, Ri! I could actually 'see' what you were writing, and feel the heartbreak!

And, Rocky, I very much liked your poetry, as well. I'm a total loss as a poet, so I admire anyone who is, and can do it so well...
Righteous
Okay, this is important. I need to know how offensive this is. Keep in mind: I'll be reading this at a venue in a church room rented out by these club-promoter type-guys.

Good
To the self-righteous,
To the hypocrites,
To the plastic Christians
To those with stones to throw,
Iím many things to you.
To you, Iím a pagan, a fornicator, a sodomite, a drunkard but most of all, a sinner.
But you donít know me.
You only know what you think you see.
You donít know if Iíve done drugs or if I worship Satan or if Iíve slept around or what gender I prefer.
You donít.
Have I offended you yet?
Thereís more.
Iíve walked dark paths you canít imagine.
Youíve never seen drugs.
Youíve never met a gay person or a pagan or someone promiscuous.
While your singing hymns and praising Jesus in your comfort zones, Iím out there doing the Lords work.
Whose hands are dirty?
Whoís out there with the sinners and the suffering?
You arenít.
Still not offended?
Thereís more.
You see darkness and evil around you and all the sins everyone else commits.
You never look inside.
Youíre afraid of the evil that might be in your soul.
We wear our skeletons on our sleeves.
Have you checked your closet lately?
Chances are, youíre as bad as us,
Or worse.
Either way, you wonít admit it.
Offended yet?
Good.
trunks_girl26
Depends on how religious they are. Hmmm.....Might I suggest you PMing it to a more religious-oriented person, such as Believe, and getting her opinion?
pgrmdave
I mean no offense, but...isn't that poem a little hypocritical? Telling people that they don't know you, but telling them who they are?
trunks_girl26
Hence the point of it being an offense-generating poem, methinks
Righteous
THis was written while dwelling on when I was finding my place in the world in a spiritual sense. I had been to a lot of churches and talked to a lot of people that fit said description and they all told me exactly what my sins and the sins of the world were and how we're all going to Hell. The "you" is actually a collection of "Christians" I've encountered since becoming a Christian, those who are self-righteous, plastic and hypocritical. No, it's not meant for anyone in particular.

SHould I replace "plastic" with "saccrine"? I think it sounds cooler. I dunno.
elphaba2
"Plastic" sort of flows better, methinks. It also seems to have a different connotation than "saccharine"--plastic people are more scary, because you can't tell what they're thinking. They're frozen, where a saccharine person is an airline attendent. They're oversweet and fake, but still retain properties that make them safe to put in your coffee.

As for it's offensiveness, I think perhaps you might want to make it clear after reading that you weren't addressing it to the true Christians. This leaves your own opinions clear but shows you aren't condemning Christianity in general, which someone bent on hearing only the bad bits in your poem might take it as.

I also love it, by the way. You have a really interesting way with words that turns my brain to thinking. *claps*
trunks_girl26
QUOTE (Righteous @ Feb 7 2005, 09:03 PM)
THis was written while dwelling on when I was finding my place in the world in a spiritual sense. I had been to a lot of churches and talked to a lot of people that fit said description and they all told me exactly what my sins and the sins of the world were and how we're all going to Hell. The "you" is actually a collection of "Christians" I've encountered since becoming a Christian, those who are self-righteous, plastic and hypocritical. No, it's not meant for anyone in particular.

SHould I replace "plastic" with "saccrine"? I think it sounds cooler. I dunno.
*



What if you explained that to your audience, Ri, it shouldn't be too bad, right?

And yes, saccrine kicks. Use it and use it well.
pgrmdave
I must say though, that it is one of the few poems that I've read that I've actually liked, that wasn't written by e.e. cummings (my favorite poet)

Who are your influences?
Righteous
QUOTE (pgrmdave @ Feb 7 2005, 10:55 PM)
Who are your influences?
*

The Earth, God, drums, Corey Taylor and Malcolm Randal, in no particular order. Some people speak in tongues when they feel moved. I hop on the PC and type.

For songs, I go with what I feel musically, which is what I grew up on, which is 90's alternative, grunge, hard rock and modern alternative, namely Cold, Mushroomhead, The Smashing Pumpkins, Eve 6 and old Green Day, among many others. I like the idea of not being a slave to one sound.
Righteous
I get to perform my poems at Cafť Nexus tonight! Go me! Hopefully I'll get a good reaction. I'll be performing as Tragick the Clown whose face adorns my avatar.
voices_in_my_head
Good luck!
Righteous
It was awaesome. I went through six poems before I knocked off, but people talked to me afterward asking why I didn't do more. I was introduced but no one quieted down. I tapped on the mic, nothing. I said, "Shhhh," nothing. I said, "I'll keep you guys after class if I have to," ntohing. Finally, I pulled out "What Is Art" and the first line shut everyone up. After that, it was a breeze.

Hee hee. Fun.
trunks_girl26
YAY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

CONGRADULATIONS, RI!!!!

*HUGE HUGGLES*
PsychWardMike
Woed to the reading in coffee houses, man. Those are the best places to get your stuff out to the masses and you can pretty much always count on a warm reaction, espescially when your poetry is as good as it is.

I like your stuff, bro. I'm digging the contemplative tones of "What is art" (I like to write like that too!). Keep it up, brother. Keep it up.
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