#titan - Hello Poetry

The shards of dreams erased, The pulse forgotten by me, In nightmares' iron vice encased, Married with silence by destiny. The echoing hum of vanity's stride Is absorbed by the mint-cold air. Opening eyes, the leftovers of sleep Have silenced the hourglass there. The path of a thought is begun, Spurning the underworld’s halls. A distant beam has flashed and gone— I’ll walk the road where reflection falls. Almost caught up, ready to seize, But the warm light vanished from view. Shattering through the earthly crust, It brought the weight of the heavenly blue. A fleeting second revealed the thread, In the ruins where her fate was laid— Destined to weave the forest crowns, A titan growing in the centuries' shade.

0

May 26

May 26, 2026 at 5:37 AM UTC

mupohob666

The Titan

The shards of dreams erased, The pulse forgotten by me, In nightmares' iron vice encased, Married with silence by destiny. The echoing hum of vanity's stride Is absorbed by the mint-cold air. Opening eyes, the leftovers of sleep Have silenced the hourglass there. The path of a thought is begun, Spurning the underworld’s halls. A distant beam has flashed and gone— I’ll walk the road where reflection falls. Almost caught up, ready to seize, But the warm light vanished from view. Shattering through the earthly crust, It brought the weight of the heavenly blue. A fleeting second revealed the thread, In the ruins where her fate was laid— Destined to weave the forest crowns, A titan growing in the centuries' shade.

20

Deep within the folded grey Lonesome titans weave upon their watery graves Amongst shale seas Veiled with fog Vast beasts of smoke float atop oceans of grey silence

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Sep 21, 2020

Sep 21, 2020 at 4:36 AM UTC

Keplar

Clouds

Deep within the folded grey Lonesome titans weave upon their watery graves Amongst shale seas Veiled with fog Vast beasts of smoke float atop oceans of grey silence

7

lands of Titans as these Vikings clash at large with their picks and chosen oars and hoa ravished atmosphere with sea by their front and wind at their backs while craters solemnize the dunes

0

Aug 22, 2020

Aug 22, 2020 at 4:02 PM UTC

poetman

global glaciation

lands of Titans as these Vikings clash at large with their picks and chosen oars and hoa ravished atmosphere with sea by their front and wind at their backs while craters solemnize the dunes

17

I do not know how many years I was terrified of the Titan It spit in my face the stink of ancient beer Clogged my nostrils with smoke and massive fingers As if to rip off my nose As if to crush my bendy bones in its fists All the while hollering For more And less And itself I only know that now I have seen other Things Than it Things with far more power than it Things that howl louder than The Titan I have risen to meet them I have looked in their eyes As I brought them To kneel before me Have brought them To know fear Soon I shall make battle again With the great beast from some hell of its own It does not yet know To be afraid

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Apr 19, 2020

Apr 19, 2020 at 11:02 AM UTC

Dvali_T

The Titan

I do not know how many years I was terrified of the Titan It spit in my face the stink of ancient beer Clogged my nostrils with smoke and massive fingers As if to rip off my nose As if to crush my bendy bones in its fists All the while hollering For more And less And itself I only know that now I have seen other Things Than it Things with far more power than it Things that howl louder than The Titan I have risen to meet them I have looked in their eyes As I brought them To kneel before me Have brought them To know fear Soon I shall make battle again With the great beast from some hell of its own It does not yet know To be afraid

28

Il y a bien huit milliards d'années lumière Huit cents millions de lustres Huit cents mille siècles Huit cents quatre-vingt-huit ans Huit mois Huit jours Huit heures Huit minutes Et huit secondes Nous étions le même corps La même lune mathusalémique En orbite autour de Saturne Puis le grand horloger des Dioscures Dans son grand égarement Nous a déclarés péchés capitaux, Luxure et gourmandise, Et nous a séparés. Tu te souviens ? Désormais tu es Epiméthée, Titan qui réfléchit après coup Et moi Janus, bifrons ou quadrifrons, dieu des portes et des entrées Aux visages qui se dévisagent Et nous continuons sur la même orbite En fer à cheval Toi intérieure, moi extérieure Et inversement Tous les quatre ans Jusqu'à la fin des temps. Si l'on en croit Newton "Deux corps s'attirent en raison directe de leur masse Et en raison inverse du carré de leur distance " Je suis comme toi couvert de cratères Castor, Idas, Lynceus et Phoibe Et chaque seconde me rapproche De tes merveilleuses boursouflures Pollux et Hilairea. Ad libitum nous échangeons nos orbites jumelles Et poursuivons notre ballet gravitationnel Entre cosinus et sinus, Constante et tangente, Exponentielle et dérive, En attendant la mutuelle collision, La chevauchée céleste de nos hypoténuses Sans jamais perdre de vue la donnée mathématique : La primitive de x au carré Vaut un tiers de x au cube A une constante près.

0

Aug 21, 2019

Aug 21, 2019 at 5:52 AM UTC

cyclone-wolfok-baltimore

Ballet gravitationnel

Il y a bien huit milliards d'années lumière Huit cents millions de lustres Huit cents mille siècles Huit cents quatre-vingt-huit ans Huit mois Huit jours Huit heures Huit minutes Et huit secondes Nous étions le même corps La même lune mathusalémique En orbite autour de Saturne Puis le grand horloger des Dioscures Dans son grand égarement Nous a déclarés péchés capitaux, Luxure et gourmandise, Et nous a séparés. Tu te souviens ? Désormais tu es Epiméthée, Titan qui réfléchit après coup Et moi Janus, bifrons ou quadrifrons, dieu des portes et des entrées Aux visages qui se dévisagent Et nous continuons sur la même orbite En fer à cheval Toi intérieure, moi extérieure Et inversement Tous les quatre ans Jusqu'à la fin des temps. Si l'on en croit Newton "Deux corps s'attirent en raison directe de leur masse Et en raison inverse du carré de leur distance " Je suis comme toi couvert de cratères Castor, Idas, Lynceus et Phoibe Et chaque seconde me rapproche De tes merveilleuses boursouflures Pollux et Hilairea. Ad libitum nous échangeons nos orbites jumelles Et poursuivons notre ballet gravitationnel Entre cosinus et sinus, Constante et tangente, Exponentielle et dérive, En attendant la mutuelle collision, La chevauchée céleste de nos hypoténuses Sans jamais perdre de vue la donnée mathématique : La primitive de x au carré Vaut un tiers de x au cube A une constante près.

45

You are the Titan of Tears, Sobbing to the unforgiving milkman Who breaks your ***** bottles And feeds you curdled milk From withering cattle. He crunches around broken glass With his scuffed leather boots on your front porch As you watch from a hole in your bedroom wall, Losing your first piece of dignity And the last of the sanity carrying you since age ten. You are the Titan of Tears, Crying to the cutthroat poetess Who refuses to send your estranged sister A collection of misery soaked poetry. She burns your insincere words in front of the mailbox; Stanza by stanza the ash coats your mouth Like lipstick for the ****** Spiraling into smoke as she walks away Fast enough to lose her in the midst of your fit. The Titan of Tears— You whimper in torn apart doorways To block out strangers who will never appear. You, Titan, Who only feels clean when flossing In the harshest of summer storms Because you believe your great God is washing Sins out of your matted hair. You, Titan, Whose childhood feels never-ending like evening traffic. Childhood is the milky smoke you witness Seeping from your dying neighbor’s chimney; Childhood stares at you Like glassy eyed pigeons outside of your office window As you weep into your cold black coffee, Titan. Your lacking adulthood is full of sloppy attempts to silence Barking dogs in your slush brain, Pushing down the bile that rises in your flaking throat, As water floods your eyes like a basement during Katrina And feeding worms writhe out of your flared nostrils, Covered in snot and blackened discharge. You are the Titan of Tears; Your weeping rivals Mother Mary’s ****** streaks.

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Jul 15, 2019

Jul 15, 2019 at 12:15 AM UTC

unsettling

Titan of Tears

You are the Titan of Tears, Sobbing to the unforgiving milkman Who breaks your ***** bottles And feeds you curdled milk From withering cattle. He crunches around broken glass With his scuffed leather boots on your front porch As you watch from a hole in your bedroom wall, Losing your first piece of dignity And the last of the sanity carrying you since age ten. You are the Titan of Tears, Crying to the cutthroat poetess Who refuses to send your estranged sister A collection of misery soaked poetry. She burns your insincere words in front of the mailbox; Stanza by stanza the ash coats your mouth Like lipstick for the ****** Spiraling into smoke as she walks away Fast enough to lose her in the midst of your fit. The Titan of Tears— You whimper in torn apart doorways To block out strangers who will never appear. You, Titan, Who only feels clean when flossing In the harshest of summer storms Because you believe your great God is washing Sins out of your matted hair. You, Titan, Whose childhood feels never-ending like evening traffic. Childhood is the milky smoke you witness Seeping from your dying neighbor’s chimney; Childhood stares at you Like glassy eyed pigeons outside of your office window As you weep into your cold black coffee, Titan. Your lacking adulthood is full of sloppy attempts to silence Barking dogs in your slush brain, Pushing down the bile that rises in your flaking throat, As water floods your eyes like a basement during Katrina And feeding worms writhe out of your flared nostrils, Covered in snot and blackened discharge. You are the Titan of Tears; Your weeping rivals Mother Mary’s ****** streaks.

42

If they talk they talk after one But all the nails in his socket were gone And though our pastor could not outrun The secret remains of Babylon

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Aug 20, 2018

Aug 20, 2018 at 7:49 PM UTC

anyamcghee

Hush Hush

If they talk they talk after one But all the nails in his socket were gone And though our pastor could not outrun The secret remains of Babylon

4

Bold like a lion, strong and brave. I'm not defiant, know my name. Proud like a lion, showing might, No turning back now, I will fight. Roar like a lion. Hunt your prey. Walk like a titan. Rule the day. Live like a lion. Know your place. Keep your head high an' show your grace. Sleep like a lion, with your pride. Protect your region. None shall die. Fail like a lion. tail down low. But rise like a king. All will know.

0

Apr 12, 2018

Apr 12, 2018 at 10:05 PM UTC

TessRedArrow-1

Lion

Bold like a lion, strong and brave. I'm not defiant, know my name. Proud like a lion, showing might, No turning back now, I will fight. Roar like a lion. Hunt your prey. Walk like a titan. Rule the day. Live like a lion. Know your place. Keep your head high an' show your grace. Sleep like a lion, with your pride. Protect your region. None shall die. Fail like a lion. tail down low. But rise like a king. All will know.

24

Cascades of these things, crickets legs and flayed livers Rain in such ruby blood, against the back of a dead titan

0

Aug 1, 2016

Aug 1, 2016 at 5:05 PM UTC

astralcw

Dead Titan

Cascades of these things, crickets legs and flayed livers Rain in such ruby blood, against the back of a dead titan

3

She tapped my Shoulder, I caught carpels. The “heavy” caught My breath, I feared death. But I’d sip like the Wind, I’d open my sails. And She’d later smile, A daughter, And I’d live; Eternal.

0

May 27, 2016

May 27, 2016 at 12:17 AM UTC

liam-c-calhoun

Perpetual-ity

She tapped my Shoulder, I caught carpels. The “heavy” caught My breath, I feared death. But I’d sip like the Wind, I’d open my sails. And She’d later smile, A daughter, And I’d live; Eternal.

13

En la grana de un prado sanguíneo o en un bosque de cabezas cercenadas, la viuda reclama la carne de un párvulo ******** Allí donde entonan sus voces un coro de lamentos disonantes. Reniega de su apetito la matriarca del barrio francés Pues los gritos de Joliet no inquietan su consciencia, cosechan en cambio, un jardín de culposos deleites Placeres como solo admite, la maquiavelia de una gioconda que envuelta en lujosos atavíos extiende sus garras al inocente . Ni hablar del perjurio voraz, que oculta a la fantasía la marea virgen del infortunio y el propio siniestro. La desesperación de una madre que devora a sus hijos con el don de Saturno. Para la que no hay erotismo sino aquel que evoca el rigor cadavérico. Vapores que ascienden desde el lecho en descomposición, y alimentan su magia. Celebran el cruento dolor del infante, con la mirada de espanto apenas visible en el carmesí de sus finas pestañas Porque es claro como la luna y tan cierto como la muerte que en la viuda no hay gozo, sin el grito que desgarra la noche. Sin la brea que desciende sobre el horizonte, y la angustia que acompaña la pasión de la masacre.

0

Aug 23, 2015

Aug 23, 2015 at 11:38 AM UTC

HalibutBlues

La Viuda de París

En la grana de un prado sanguíneo o en un bosque de cabezas cercenadas, la viuda reclama la carne de un párvulo ******** Allí donde entonan sus voces un coro de lamentos disonantes. Reniega de su apetito la matriarca del barrio francés Pues los gritos de Joliet no inquietan su consciencia, cosechan en cambio, un jardín de culposos deleites Placeres como solo admite, la maquiavelia de una gioconda que envuelta en lujosos atavíos extiende sus garras al inocente . Ni hablar del perjurio voraz, que oculta a la fantasía la marea virgen del infortunio y el propio siniestro. La desesperación de una madre que devora a sus hijos con el don de Saturno. Para la que no hay erotismo sino aquel que evoca el rigor cadavérico. Vapores que ascienden desde el lecho en descomposición, y alimentan su magia. Celebran el cruento dolor del infante, con la mirada de espanto apenas visible en el carmesí de sus finas pestañas Porque es claro como la luna y tan cierto como la muerte que en la viuda no hay gozo, sin el grito que desgarra la noche. Sin la brea que desciende sobre el horizonte, y la angustia que acompaña la pasión de la masacre.

41

Titan of old, Bearing both your love and mine. Guide me, Navigator. Let me take the weight. You’ll shatter, I’ll just break.

0

Dec 10, 2014

Dec 10, 2014 at 7:04 PM UTC

sarah-jones1z

Atlas

Titan of old, Bearing both your love and mine. Guide me, Navigator. Let me take the weight. You’ll shatter, I’ll just break.

6

Skeleton1.0 And so it was said that the weak will fall By weapons of man Rock, Sword, Bullet, Bombs fall, Death rains down Like dominos they will fall By each others hand. Skull1.1 Then death did call They listened, Messengers, Slayers, Takers, Of his extended hand, Bring those who are need of peace, So my eye may see through your eyes I will take Deathbedwith last breath. Spine1.2 I am the never ending Gods have fallen, I have then in my cages of bones Gods, Titans, Angels, Demons, Man, Everybody, everything feels my hand Ages, Decays, Rots, Till I greet them, no one escapes I am death I see all that lives and dies In space, air, water, land. Scythe1.3 And so the universe dies The energies of God, Man, Animal, Consumed by my hand Energy consumed life force taken Since time began. Now all is dark, nothingness Empty, Barren, Silent, And so the taken It will start a new A drop in to the nothingness Then light Darkness collide Where nothing, Now Life and death start again As it was before, and then again The cycle of life and death A balance I hold infinite times So it was, so it shall be again.

0

Jul 15, 2014

Jul 15, 2014 at 12:55 PM UTC

poetic-t

Bible Of Death

Skeleton1.0 And so it was said that the weak will fall By weapons of man Rock, Sword, Bullet, Bombs fall, Death rains down Like dominos they will fall By each others hand. Skull1.1 Then death did call They listened, Messengers, Slayers, Takers, Of his extended hand, Bring those who are need of peace, So my eye may see through your eyes I will take Deathbedwith last breath. Spine1.2 I am the never ending Gods have fallen, I have then in my cages of bones Gods, Titans, Angels, Demons, Man, Everybody, everything feels my hand Ages, Decays, Rots, Till I greet them, no one escapes I am death I see all that lives and dies In space, air, water, land. Scythe1.3 And so the universe dies The energies of God, Man, Animal, Consumed by my hand Energy consumed life force taken Since time began. Now all is dark, nothingness Empty, Barren, Silent, And so the taken It will start a new A drop in to the nothingness Then light Darkness collide Where nothing, Now Life and death start again As it was before, and then again The cycle of life and death A balance I hold infinite times So it was, so it shall be again.

62