The Poetry Thread

[pole]

I wish I could fly
out of my apartment
from the bed where I'm trying to sleep
down the stairs
into the basement
flying upright
with my eyes close
under the beam
ending with my head in the noose

loved it. deep.

 

[agreement]

loved it. deep.

Thanks buddy

 

[ish]

Modlitwa o śmierć /meduza4/

Duszo!
Obróć się w nicość, abym przestał
mieć swą świadomość, bo cóż mi po niej?
Znękany życiem i obolały,
czuję jak Wszechświat w gorączce płonie.

Kwiatku!
Zwiędnij bezpłodnie, aby nie bawić
dłoni i oczu dotykiem piękna.
Nic od cierpienia nie może zbawić
- czuję jak serce na dwoje pęka.

Słońce!
Zaćmij się wreszcie i spadnij z nieba,
zgaśnij bez słowa, rozpłyń się w ciszy.
Nie ma miłości, której mi trzeba,
a mojej skargi nikt nie usłyszy!

Boże!
We własną godność już nie uwierzę.
Chciałem odzyskać resztki mej twarzy
- w lustrze znalazłem skrwawione zwierzę.
Zabij, nim więcej złego się zdarzy!


Translate By Ish & Holly Google:

Prayer for death

Soul!
Turn into nothingness and let me stop
be aware of, what's the next thing for me?
Stressed by life and sore
I feel the universe in a fever burning.
Flower!
Wilt fruitlessly ,not to have fun
hands and eyes touch of beauty.
Nothing can save you from suffering
- I feel like my heart is breaking.
Sun!
Finally darken and fall from the sky,
quench without a word, dissolve in silence.
There is no, love I need
and no one will hear my complaint!
God!
I will not believe in my own dignity.
I wanted to get the rest of my face back
- I found a bloody animal in the mirror.
Kill before more evil happens!




Jacek Dehnel

Samobójcy

Mając za skrzydła w dół przygiętą gałąź
mając za szczudła strugi krwi z nadgarstków
widzą drzwi świata uchylone w całość,
miasto i korab zmieszczone w naparstku.

Ci własną dłonią otworzyli księgę,
a ktoś z litością zawarł im powieki.

Trzymaj pod rękę sznur, brzytwę i leki.
Już twarde fale biją pod okrętem.


Translated Ish & Holly Google

Suicide

Having behind wings bent down branch
Having behind support steams of blood from the wrists
They the door of the world see ajar into nothingness
Life - existence contained in a thimble

These, opened your own hand the Book
Merciful death closes them their eyelids

Keep at hand a cord, razor and medicine
You already hear the oncoming bus.

 

[Tortured_empath]

This is a translated poem, so it has lost most of its rhyme and meter, along with a lot of its meaning too:

Diamonds created under press
Until the pressure becomes such stress
That diamond splinters in five hundred and eighty
Small faggot pieces who find their place
In my side, like the sharp rose thorns of glass

It hurts

You scrounger your mother is a whore
Who should be strangulated with velvet pillows
Immoral as the boar girl in her mud
With narcissistic way of whining
Comforted by self-affirming bitch-chat

I'll smash your face in like glass panes

 

[ish]

This is a translated poem, so it has lost most of its rhyme and meter, along with a lot of its meaning too:

Diamonds created under press
Until the pressure becomes such stress
That diamond splinters in five hundred and eighty
Small faggot pieces who find their place
In my side, like the sharp rose thorns of glass

It hurts

You scrounger your mother is a whore
Who should be strangulated with velvet pillows
Immoral as the boar girl in her mud
With narcissistic way of whining
Comforted by self-affirming bitch-chat

I'll smash your face in like glass panes

I feel sorry for the author of his "demons"

 

[Tortured_empath]

I feel sorry for the author of his "demons"

Hah, don't be. They are living happily ever after.