Whether it's your first Bonnaroo or you’re a music festival veteran, we welcome you to Inforoo.
Here you'll find info about artists, rumors, camping tips, and the infamous Roo Clues. Have a look around then create an account and join in the fun. See you at Bonnaroo!!
i'm going where the sun keeps shining, thru' the pouring rain, going where the weather suits my clothes. backing off of the north east wind, sailing on summer breeze, and skipping over the ocean like a stone.
The night peels off the sky in silent, slow patterns that could almost be fog. Like spiraling gusts of wet smoke they twist through the twilight and roll on the rooftops. On gentle fingers like angel’s feathers they glide over gutters then sink down onto the green life that grips the dirt.
So I slide into the nothingness of thought. And my eyes, falling, too, with the night, follow my fingers to the dirt. My knees wet and green in the grass, I bury those ten tiny tentacles into the foreskin of the earth.
In her flesh they live like worms. Her dank breath rises off the dirt and the night-dew.
Through my nose and teeth I taste her,
Mother.
Alive again I shove my face into the grass where my hair is wet, and my face brushed clean by the green, and the long, sweet fog that fell off the night.
Post by psychedelic_heartbeat on May 11, 2007 11:40:03 GMT -5
I'm also glad this thread has been created. I enjoy all forms of poetry. I am a poet at heart, so I will probably has many posts here. I am, however, not a professional. I enjoy writing in the hopes that someone will enjoy reading. Happy 'Rooing!!!
The kaleidescope effect of summer's weathered haze A kiss from unremembered love Hangs loosely overhead Faces shadowed by greed Morph into enlightened hope Emphatic Karmatic Bittersweet bliss Hippie twirl Patchouli scent Overloading all senses Holding hands Embracing summer's greedless Heart
birthday for me was my 30th. I didn't want anybody to know. I'd been sitting in the same bar night and day and I thought, how long am I going to be able to keep up this bluff? when am I going to give it up and start acting like everybody else? I ordered another drink and thought about it and then the answer came to me: when you're dead, baby, when you're dead like the rest of them.
a couple by me, in no way "poetry" just thoughts....
what i'm trying to tell you...
if i got to crunk to fly would people sit back and listen?
if they thought i was somebody I wasn't would humans recognize my disposition?
don't open this boxthe processes may surprise you only a few dare explore the things in my venue
one day you may learn what i'm trying to tell you...
Gone...
without even the simplest goodbye..... that's ok, she has to move on move on, and bury some things inside move on, and put a smile on her face for her tarnished new life i wonder if it will haunt her forever? or at all.... who knows ... she's Gone ......
Innovating
I am innovating my life to include surroundings that feel right exploring various avenues I choose cause I know I won't lose
I got to keep on walking on this road to somewhere trying to expand minds along the way I just hope I'm remembered one day
It wont stop till I've had enough this life has nowhere to go but up I always believe that and I know its true Hopefully one day I'll run into you
everything, something, and nothing
i opened up my soul and wanted you to be everything
you gave me what you could in the end i think it was something
i never could be enough maybe you think i meant nothing
my life will carry on and i'll be ok with everything
maybe we'll realize one day that we could have had that special something
but for now i feel like i'm walking away with nothing
Post by famousblueraincoat on May 23, 2007 18:42:54 GMT -5
Here's a short one I wrote.
A Moment of Candor
The west wind breathes acute cardiac episodes to the sea We leave behind the legacy for cold lethargy This anxious disease Beading our palms with the sweat of Sunday evenings and Fridays at five Junes and Decembers Each decade a deadline to love, to hold, to satisfy All the while chastising the others Pleading for cool waters A wet washcloth A week's worth of Saturday afternoon A moment to swim in sleep's maternal silence
Post by spookymonster on May 24, 2007 7:22:44 GMT -5
One of my favs... forgot about it 'til this morning:
[IF]
If you can keep your head when all about you Are losing theirs and blaming it on you, If you can trust yourself when all men doubt you But make allowance for their doubting too, If you can wait and not be tired by waiting, Or being lied about, don't deal in lies, Or being hated, don't give way to hating, And yet don't look too good, nor talk too wise:
If you can dream--and not make dreams your master, If you can think--and not make thoughts your aim; If you can meet with Triumph and Disaster And treat those two impostors just the same; If you can bear to hear the truth you've spoken Twisted by knaves to make a trap for fools, Or watch the things you gave your life to, broken, And stoop and build 'em up with worn-out tools:
If you can make one heap of all your winnings And risk it all on one turn of pitch-and-toss, And lose, and start again at your beginnings And never breath a word about your loss; If you can force your heart and nerve and sinew To serve your turn long after they are gone, And so hold on when there is nothing in you Except the Will which says to them: "Hold on!"
If you can talk with crowds and keep your virtue, Or walk with kings--nor lose the common touch, If neither foes nor loving friends can hurt you; If all men count with you, but none too much, If you can fill the unforgiving minute With sixty seconds' worth of distance run, Yours is the Earth and everything that's in it, And--which is more--you'll be a Man, my son!
Post by LoveLuckLaughter on Feb 10, 2022 11:47:14 GMT -5
“Love.
Because of you, in gardens of blossoming Flowers I ache from the perfumes of spring. I have forgotten your face, I no longer Remember your hands; how did your lips Feel on mine?
Because of you, I love the white statues Drowsing in the parks, the white statues that Have neither voice nor sight.
I have forgotten your voice, your happy voice; I have forgotten your eyes.
Like a flower to its perfume, I am bound to My vague memory of you. I live with pain That is like a wound; if you touch me, you will Make to me an irreperable harm.
Your caresses enfold me, like climbing Vines on melancholy walls.
I have forgotten your love, yet I seem to Glimpse you in every window.
Because of you, the heady perfumes of Summer pain me; because of you, I again Seek out the signs that precipitate desires: Shooting stars, falling objects.” ― Pablo Neruda
We're all a mess of paradoxes. Believing in things we know can't be true. We walk around carrying feelings too complicated and contradictory to express. But when it all becomes too big, and words aren't enough to help get it all out, there's always music.
