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NeoGAF's Poetry Corner - #101: "The Next Generation"

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FelixOrion

Poet Centuriate
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Theme: The Next Generation

"Each new generation is reared by its predecessor; the latter must therefore improve in order to improve its successor. The movement is circular." - Emile Durkheim

"The idol of today pushes the hero of yesterday out of our recollection; and will, in turn, be supplanted by his successor of tomorrow." - Washington Irving

"I don't need a successor, only willing hands to accept the torch for a new generation." - Billy Graham

"Each generation imagines itself to be more intelligent than the one that went before it, and wiser than the one that comes after it." - George Orwell

"Each generation wants new symbols, new people, new names. They want to divorce themselves from their predecessors." - Jim Morrison

"Leadership is not about the next election, it's about the next generation." - Simon Sinek

Optional Secondary Objective: Radio Play

We're doing something different! We've done poetry slams/audios in the past, but we're gonna take that throw it into warp factor 5. So call up Mr. La Forge in Engineering and tell him to fire up Audacity (or what ever DAW you use), cause we're doing a radio play/audio drama. Basically, you're going to record yourself performing the poem, but this time find some sound effects, some music, some atmosphere. Give your words an sonic stage to stand on. So that's your mission: to explore strange new challenges, to seek out new words and new audio manifestations, to boldly go where no GAFfer poet has gone before. Make it so!

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Submission Deadline:

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Voting Deadline:

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HORRORSHØW

Member
we are history's yellowed newspaper
headlined with sepia-toned warnings of war
and disease

the timbre of our voices echo like waves
from a supernova
distant; dead; and for a brief moment​
tonally succinct
 

The_Poet

Banned
Faint waves of nostalgia
As I look upon yellowed toys.
First felt as a teen and
Treasured into the deep of life.

Simple joys enabled
Boundless pleasures beyond all scope.
Replaced by blank, downcast
Faces; Illuminated blue.

A tether holding me
To work, stress and Interruption
Became gods, demanding
Sacrifices of attention.

Why cant they see their faults?
Did they not learn from our mistakes?
Am I out of touch?
No, it's the children who are wrong.
 

Derwind

Member
Slowly drifting through the light;
Only go where no one might;
Ever onward, steady and sound;
Find the way to get around.

Enter the shadow seeping with light;
Tread with caution or you might;
See the children sleeping sound;
Guarded by horror all around.

Innocence fading into the light;
Strength submitting with all its might;
Losing the senses of no sound;
So the new can come around.
 

vdlow

Member
Since the theme is next generation, can I repost a poem from another thread and call it Remastered?
 

RP912

Banned
I have so many ideas for the second objective but no microphone at the moment to do them lol.

Anywho...



Grid Paradox

My mind is drifting in rose colored batter
but my spirit is shifting to new beyond matter
these whipper snappers developed a new concept
while I roam the streets upon my own logic
living life like it's 1993 when those glory days are before me
while I withstand on demand blunders
on the viewing pleasures of the information highway
dreams are subtle to get rich quick schemes
kings are inferior to their own design
queens are mere subject to their own line of embrace
no value no honor
I say as a drunken old man living life like it's 2013
humbled not quite but still will find the way
they slay my values with words that do harm to my old soul
control my mindset and look...behold...a new concept
of mouth-less wonders speaking high to the masses
flunking the classes but hold the chalice
with such pride
I can take it with such stride that my time is up
new year same remedy
living life like there's no future
call me stuck in my old days
 

Dresden

Member
When the bridge collapsed
there was no one on the bridge.

Bits of the bridge in the river,
no cars or people.

Thank God, said he
We'll just have to build a new one

And this time it'll last
twenty whole years.
 

Osorio

Member
I wish there was a cure
for those overwhelming moments
where you pace in reflection
at the things you haven't done

My ambitious hands do nothing
But I know I'm not alone
Spending weekends with the others
Laughing at our wasted youths

We smile at unfamiliar turbid skies
Waiting impatiently in line
As the confetti of age's wisdoms
Undulate slowly onto frightened tongues
 

rrc1594

Member
It’s sunny outside but there’s rain in my eyes
There’s a mother in my home, but a father that’s missing
Looking out the window wondering if he’ll ever show his face
He’s always in different place, said he was to young deal with the responsibility
So he left me shambled and broken 20 years later my wounds are still open
Nine months from now I’ll be in the same position
But I’m not my father; I will not carry he’s sins over
I’m break these generation chains, free my self like a runway slave
Raise my son like the sun; treat you like gift instead of a curse
Bring hope to this bloodline that’s been tainted since the beginning of time
I am Free
 

FelixOrion

Poet Centuriate
Stone Torch

Take this, my chisel.
It's worn
It's tired
It's been oxidized
Head to stone.
It's been the genesis
of my abstraction.
I give you, dear child,
this contrivance and the analects
forged by my hands,
not as deigned gifts,
but as blueprints.
What you must learn now
No personage can't impart.
Go forth.

--

(Will work on the audio part this weekend.)
 

Ashes

Banned
They took your pots and pans

Do you recall when you and
I were lively young things,
innocent and full
of wonderful dreams;
I remember when we
made chocolate beer,
I added the ice cream
and you added the sweets
I added the butter,
and you added liquorice tea;
and we added the sugar,
the salt, mint, and cinnamon,
even sesame seeds!
and I think everything within
our grasp went into this recipe,
quite literally.
& don't you remember how great
it tasted? even though we
vomited it and Mum was quite pissed,
it still tastiest bitter-sweet, didn't it?
They can't bottle away our joy,
or throttle what our
young souls wrought;
So never you mind that they've taken
what's yours from you,
they haven't yet extinguished your heart's
most fragile desire,
look to the future,
dear brother of mine,
and from your broken dream's ashes,
build another empire.
 

zankara

Member
Is this real?
How can it be?
Hope
Fantasy
Desperation
Delusion
Longing is pointless
Should I disappear?
Poison in my veins
I want to bleed you out

Where are you?

Scrounging for something, anything
Clinging to whatever I find
I have nothing left
Eating my fingers
Infection spreads
Nothing to hold
Staring at the water
A piteous cry… Does anyone hear? Does anyone care?

Where are you?

Mystical Skies
Full of lies
You reach for me
It’s too late
I smile
Nothing is wrong
You move on
Biting my lip, I look away

Where are you?

What is so horrible about me, that you choose to despise?
My ugly interior? My penchant for guys?
Hideous creature in the mirror, destroying me with those eyes
Disgust
I tear at my flesh
Unwavering in your judgement
I can’t escape
Your hands wrap around my throat
What is this?
Is this relief?

Why don’t you love me?
 

FelixOrion

Poet Centuriate
1. Ashes
2. RP912
3. Dresden

Extend vote by another day, perhaps?

Yeah I'm down with that.

By the by, Dresden, your poem kinda reminded me of another poem I was once taught (that actually fits this theme quite well):

An old man going a lone highway,
Came, at the evening cold and gray,
To a chasm vast and deep and wide.
Through which was flowing a sullen tide
The old man crossed in the twilight dim,
The sullen stream had no fear for him;
But he turned when safe on the other side
And built a bridge to span the tide.

“Old man,” said a fellow pilgrim near,
“You are wasting your strength with building here;
Your journey will end with the ending day,
You never again will pass this way;
You've crossed the chasm, deep and wide,
Why build this bridge at evening tide?”

The builder lifted his old gray head;
“Good friend, in the path I have come,” he said,
“There followed after me to-day
A youth whose feet must pass this way.
This chasm that has been as naught to me
To that fair-haired youth may a pitfall be;
He, too, must cross in the twilight dim;
Good friend, I am building this bridge for him!”​

- Will Allen Dromgoole, Father: An Anthology of Verse (1931)
 

FelixOrion

Poet Centuriate
Results!
1. Ashes 10 (2)
2. FelixOrion 9 (2)
3. Grimløck 8 (2)
4. Dresden 6 (1)
5. rrc1594 5
6. Zankara 3
6. Derwind 3
8. Osorio 2
8. RP912 2

Congrats Ashes, you know the drill!
 
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