The Poetry of the Thrin

[katherine]

There was someone I used to know
And he would walk with me every day,
Past the graves of the dead and the forgotten.
My head would fill with light
As he spoke pretend words of comfort and forever,
Preventing me from lingering.

I stood with the sky on his shoulders,
Brimming with power and grace
As he took my balance.
Breathing in deep, no silver linings and no clouds,
There could be no end because he was perfect;
My protector, provider and father.

(But I slept in beds of darkness and lies
And my shadow was long and deep.
As I drifted and faded and fell far away,
Lost my way as he turned his back
With a gleam in his eye that said I meant nothing,
I watched him break apart from cracks I'd never seen.)

[Goblin King]

With a gleam in his eye that said I meant nothing,
I watched him break apart from cracks I'd never seen.)

Ouch. ouch.
Cool Poem Katherine. Maybe you can exploit all this pain and create a weighty masterpiece - and then you can beat him to death with it (well, with hard back copy anyway )

[katherine]

Before: there was so much.
We would lay ourselves bare for you
With no awkwardness of time or place.
Stabbing ourselves with snow-corroded metal
As you gave us comfort and a lack of attention.

Bone and blood and graves;
Your name standing out stark amongst the rest,
And my world drowns because it can't stop crying.
We were dedicated to the very last whim,
Which left you dead and floating.

Now there is quiet,
Borne from loss and a confused understanding
Of pain beyond measure, that leaks
From small holes in your skin
That you made because you were lonely.

[Goblin King]

hope you're okay

[katherine]

M'ok. Finding the writing very cathartic, which is good for me but bad for you cos I inflict it

[Goblin King]

eek - I guess thats good -
remember I'm a psychic vampire - it works for poems and art as well -
let us absorb it all. ;D

[katherine]

I used to be lonely when I was important.
Stretched the truth and grabbed what I could,
Lie after lie without the smallest confession
Of what I really was.

I let one terrible truth control me.
Unspoken, unknown; understandable,
There was a soundtrack to life:
‘I loved you, I loved you.’

Shadows and tricks; manipulated and bent,
And ideas, fraught with that same intense pain.
I lacked the simple courage
Of certainty.

But it fades eventually.
Dull throbbing in the back of my mind,
Punctuated by echoes of your cries
Because I cut you off.

[Goblin King]

It's really good.

[katherine]

Thanks.

[katherine]

I painted my walls red. They match my skin.

I felt dangerous, capable of anything. There's such a thrill in that; the endless possibilities of making an impact on the world. At some point I may have to realise that the world doesn't give a f?ck.

I almost painted myself at the same time, before remembering that that would be pointless, seeing as I'd already done it. I stained myself with life. Took pity on the pathetic and invited them in to scramble me. Let myself love, made myself hurt; created life and mimed death. I took tea with my demons and hated my lovers, and everything I did I did because I could.

Now I find myself alone, in this decrepit house with ghosts in every corner to keep me company. But it's no real difference to before; I always thought that loneliness would be the worst feeling in the world until I realised that I'd been empty all along.

[Goblin King]

(wow!)

[katherine]

Cheerful or what huh?

[lollipop]

Good writing!
*hugs*

[Thrin]

Lunch

He's back-lit; blocking the sun
So I can bearly see him.
He walks towards, next to, and past me,
Leaving behind the slightest odour.
I can't place it.
I carry on walking back,
Wishing I could make my feet stop.

[Goblin King]

cool.

[Thrin]

Abstract love
Encased in something bitter.
Shiver, recoil,
Cry with minimalist calm
That repeats with no real ending.

Nothing is absolute
Except maybe this
Because the knowledge burns
And half-lidded eyes still see
Its betrayal as a form of beauty.

Two-tone,
Vicious in direction;
A straight meaning.
Hit out, strike,
It still has you.

[Goblin King]

Knowledge burns.
I like it.

[Thrin]

Heh thanks. Have been writing a lot recently, most of it doesn't make a whole lot of sense though.

[Goblin King]

Sense? Fight the logic! Embrace the randomness!

[dratsucalex]

yay randomness

[Thrin]

It wasn't that random.

[Goblin King]

I meant in terms of fighting logic and order in general in the name of creativity - not this poem. Something like that.

[Thrin]

The control is fading, I can feel it, and I’m desperately trying to hold onto normality, becoming more and more manic. I want to cry and laugh and scream and hurt. I want to run and never stop. I want to fall madly in love; just to be able to lose myself in it and ignore everything else. I want to cry for hours and hope that it purges me like it never has before. My toes are curling and I’m tight inside of myself, crouching and rocking and I can’t make the tears come.

I want to sleep and not dream. I want to eat without feeling ill. I want to go outside on my own and not feel as though the whole world is staring at me. I want to stop wearing all black by accident as though I’m mourning something I’ve forgotten. I want the music in my head to stop.

This is just the sweetest torture though. It’s seductive, and I hold onto it like it’s something precious to me. I think it makes my hair curl. I’ve got goosebumps just thinking about it. It’s like soft fingertips drawing lazy circles all over my body before insistently digging underneath the skin and pulling me out one painful piece at a time.

It’s a repetition of something I’ve felt before, but each time is like a revelation. There are dusty echoes in my head of other days, other years that have been just as unbearable but I can never remember the details. As though I can never quite bring myself to really think about it. I’m only allowed to feel.

I don’t like the darkness attached to me. It isn’t romantic or rich like stories; it’s raw, neon glaring, plain and bold and ever so familiar. It’s there in everything I do, every doubt I have, each time I speak. It tells me what I need to hear to survive, because sometimes I think that the only thing that fuels me is hatred.

It’s like the comfort blanket I had when I was five that my mother took away from me because it got so ragged she was scared I’d choke on it.

[Goblin King]

Damn, this is all so intense.
Hope you're coping ok.

[Thrin]

*sighs*

One good thing, I'm getting a lot of stuff out of it. Enough to possibly entice me back to the world of 'thrintje' on LJ

[Goblin King]

Yes! Yes! Thrintje must return!

(How do you pronounce "Thrintje"? )

[Thrin]

Errm it's a bit difficult to describe the sound...it's a dutch thing!

I'm sure you complained that Thrintje just wrote porn

[Goblin King]

And ... ? ;D

Harry Potter rudeness!

[Thrin]

Glory

(It’s a beauty you have to allow yourself)

You thought you might have been in a whirlwind
That made you think that you were drowning.
(Where were we in it?)
Slow and silent, but the action
Makes a whole we could never live up to.

It felt like celebration to you
And death to me:
Luxuries we couldn’t afford to gift to one another.
But at our end and at the peak
I couldn’t bring myself to be sorry.

Your story was too different;
Far greater than my own over-stretched part.
Your breath would mingle with mine,
But your words out-weighed my thoughts
As you turned, hardly noticing and already away.

[Goblin King]

Impressive. I'm not sure I totally get it, but there's some powerful stuff in there.

As usual, your pain is our gain.