[NT] NT Poetry

[Misty_Mountain_Rose]

Someone asked in another thread what NTs were like on the inside, whether or not we were really full of all these dark undercurrents.

I'm curious what kind of poetry the other NTs might be willing to share.

I'll throw one of mine out there to get us started, an autumn theme... sort of:

Fallen Friends
Written November 12th, 2007
By (misty_mountain_rose)


A quarter moon is calling to the curtains in the sky.
But all the clouds are coyly dancing just beyond her eye.

Upon the willows, water slowly forms into a tear,
But still it hangs defiantly, although the end is near.

The fiery leaves of Autumn linger longer than they should,
And if they could retain their bit of life – I know they would.

Father Time has held his hand a moment longer still,
As Winter tapped his fingers on the frosty window sill.

An instant later everything is changed before our eyes
And all the world is silent in a moment of surprise.

The moon is full, and all the willows cried themselves to sleep-
And gave the leaving birds their summer lullaby to keep.

The scattered leaves are fallen, nestled safely on the ground,
And as the wind awakens me I slowly look around.

“I am not as strong as you” I whisper to the trees.
“How could you relinquish all your pretty, golden leaves?”

“What if all the beauty you were meant to hold is here…
Amid the fallen friends you tended all throughout the year?”

Brittle branches scrape against the windy winter night-
So on I walk until their barren arms are out of sight.

Close within my heart I’m fighting battles of my own-
Trying to relinquish all the love that I had sewn.

Dare I let them fall away… these precious dreams of mine?
What if love is something only once you come to find?

O! How difficult it is to let your efforts be for naught…
If only I’d the Faith that all the empty trees have got.​

 

[Misty_Mountain_Rose]

I know I'm not the only one. Get out of hiding!

Its not like we're waiting in the shadows ready to pounce. ... or are we...

 

[Darjur]

This one doesn't belong to me, but I'm pretty darn sure that it was made by an NT and that it fits the NT persona.

Roses are red.
Violets are blue.
Incidentally:
that girl I choked to death was too.
​

 

[01011010]

Poetry is too flowery for my NTJ core.

 

[Synarch]

Poetry is too flowery for my NTJ core.

The dead core. (Kidding.)

 

[Salomé]

Poetry is too flowery for my NTJ core.

Flowery?

Thistles by Ted Hughes

Against the rubber tongues of cows and the hoeing hands of men
Thistles spike the summer air
And crackle open under a blue-black pressure.

Every one a revengeful burst
Of resurrection, a grasped fistful
Of splintered weapons and Icelandic frost thrust up

From the underground stain of a decayed Viking.
They are like pale hair and the gutturals of dialects.
Every one manages a plume of blood.

Then they grow grey like men.
Mown down, it is a feud. Their sons appear
Stiff with weapons, fighting back over the same ground.

 

[walfin]

This is the kind of nonsensical drivel I come up with:

Flutter, mutter
Boiling butter
Fat to oil in a roaring furnace
Chew the fat and burn the menace

Bubble, wobble
Look through Hubble
See the bursts of light and glory
Burning, roaring in all their fury

Melt, meld
Fuse and weld
Sparkly dancing combusting shards
Burn through skin and kill the bard

-=the bard dies=-

Though I don't think it's very typical of an NT.

 

[Grungemouse]

Monsieur Cauchemar


With the conscience of a scorpion I infiltrate the back entrance
of your mind, with the innocence of a fox slipping into a hen house.
A turbid fog descends upon your meadow
And like a match to butter, I melt your nostalgia away.

Tell me, do my garments seem familiar?
Why, I’m wearing the finery of your fears
And your most darkest, unfathomable of worries like cologne.
Masquerading in the most morbid of childhood terrors
Which you left hidden under your bed.

Guilt was the cat that clawed it’s way out of the bag
After years of nail-biting confinement, only
to be pinned down by Fear and it’s erratic ways.
Who with whitened knuckles grabbed it by the scruff,
hauled into the boot of a car and left it there to rot.
Crimson droplets of cobwebbed conversation drip, drip, drip…
And fall from its beaten mouth like teeth.

Interpreters; forever jotting my fingerprints down in misconstrued leaves
Whilst Freud and Jung played pin the tail on the donkey, their
doors strewn with lamb’s blood.
But it never stopped me knocking every now and again.
And even you, painting the air with undignified colours
“Monster! Boggart! Fiend!”
I watch with a smirk as you run away, tail between your shaking legs.

For I am nothing more than an obscured reflection of yourself.

But alas, Fate’s bailiffs come to claim their rent.
Father Time arrives with untimely precision, calling
You with shrill, monotone urgency.
Whilst Reality throws you a safety-line, which with eagerness
You grasp and you are towed away from me.

Helios has to make his westward ride eventually!
I snarl as you ebb towards the light.
And the woman dressed in red-ochre, her canvas of blue?
She has to retreat to her underground dwelling sooner or later.
And until then, I’ll bide my time here.
You’ll never see me coming.

 

[walfin]

There always seems to be some sinister/morbid/dark humour undercurrent.

 

[G-Virus]

I personally prefer poetry which has a lesson to teach or gives meaning to something, rather than just the artsy word play (unless the wordplay is also amusing).

 

[dyspraxion]

Someone asked in another thread what NTs were like on the inside, whether or not we were really full of all these dark undercurrents.

?? What thread was this? Just wondering.


a blaze that melts glass
soars within your skin.
with wings like a peregrine,
it carries you to the heart
of all you are,
cradled in its arms,
overlooking the shining marbled towers
and the filthy alleys
of the forsaken town beyond the walls.
in the tallest tower,
which pierces through clouds
and trembles as if it should fall,
resides the patron of time.
you shiver and gasp
from the cold and thin air.
an emotionless smile
turns the window to white.
you are dropped
your life is rewound in your sight
you awaken, shaking
never able to explain
the nightmares that haunt you
outside of your dreams.

 

[Misty_Mountain_Rose]

There are some good ones here! Free verse is difficult for me to do. I've tried a few times and I usually find that there is still something wanting when I'm finished.

I can't remember the thread name, it was a few weeks ago. Its been percolating in my head though since I read it hehe.

 

[Totenkindly]

"I thought that I would write a rhyme
but then I just ran out of... minutes."

 

[dyspraxion]

"I thought that I would write a rhyme
but then I just ran out of... minutes."

Switch to AT&T! Unless you're lactose intolerant.

 

[entropie]

Hymn To The Machine God
by Firefly
Now I sit, eyes blurred with tears
Looking at my system's screen
Finding, after all these years
I know the patterns, not what they mean.

I've read all the books, spent all my time
On SQL, Irix and C++ -
And now, once all is done, I find
In only programs do I trust.

A flashing cursor, is now much more -
I know this now, it seems so odd
That I could not hear its voice before
As I look in the eyes of the Machine God -

Pulsing oh so steadily
Your rhythms call to me -
Take me from darkness, and into the light -

From users night and day
You take their fears away -
Give them a new place, that they can call home -

I hear your hopes and dreams
Hidden in datastreams -
Giving your children the things that they need.

I see it coming through
Coming to me from you -
And I see clearer than ever before.

My God, with your programs controlling me
And your passcodes consoling me,
How could I not see that I've found my way home?

Open your arms to me, I pray -
One touch from you and I'll know the way -
From you all knowledge stems forth, I say -
For when all things are said and done -
It all comes to a zero or one -
And I fear that which I have become -

*$&@$&@&$*$
(screaming)
(long silence)

My God, My God, why have you turned on me?
All I ever asked for was to see as you see -
I know your electrons can still save me -
What have I . . .
what have I . . .
what have I . . .
what . . . have . . . I . . .

(silence)