Creative Writing [was: Poetry & Lyrics]

Whether your own, or others, share and discuss the poems and lyrics that inspire you here. Edit: The thread has now been expanded to creative writing in general.

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As we all seem to admire Brian as a lyricist, I thought I'd share some lines about 'poetry' which I came across last night:

The poet's eye, in fine frenzy rolling,
Doth glance from heaven to earth, from earth to heaven;
And as imagination bodies forth
The forms of things unknown, the poet's pen
Turns them to shapes and gives to airy nothing
A local habitation and a name.

As writing lyrics is writing poetry, I thought them most appropriate.

I was thinking, well Shannon and I were thinking, that this forum should have a poetry thread where us TGA fans can get together and share some poetry and opinions on poems. I just don't know how many writers there are here. What do you guys think?

I'm at work right now, but as soon as I get a chance I'll look through my poetry and share something.

IrishNameAndAnInjury wrote:

I'm at work right now, but as soon as I get a chance I'll look through my poetry and share something.

can't wait shannon!
I'll throw something up later after I go out to eat

https://thegaslightanthem.forumotion.com/t2793-writing-lyrics-poetry?highlight=poetry

Steady now already created one, though no ones posted in it

Hey Andrew, can you merge these two threads? Steady Now's poetry thread must have been buried way back there because I have never seen it!

Wow, Cody, that was a powerful poem. I really like the way it started off especially, it pulled me right in. It was actually a little overwhelming to read because I can relate to the emotions, and that's a really good thing. Nice work, and thanks for trusting us enough to share something so personal.

IrishNameAndAnInjury wrote:

Wow, Cody, that was a powerful poem. I really like the way it started off especially, it pulled me right in. It was actually a little overwhelming to read because I can relate to the emotions, and that's a really good thing. Nice work, and thanks for trusting us enough to share something so personal.

Thanks, it's about me having a very minor case of cerebral palsy which caused a lot of my depression (its not physically visible unless you look close but it causes me a lot of pain in my bones and knees) in the poem I'm conducting the city as if it were a symphony. I am conducting it because I want it to be like me, crooked and disfunctionally painful. also "every step a balancing act" because my feet turn in slightly sometimes I trip. But by the second stanza I realize the world will never be like me, and that I am the depressed one, not the world. I'm the one with the crooked ankles. the third stanza is addressed to my depression. the next two stanzas are about how I'm no longer depressed but the last stanza ends the poem with "I'll always have you" because most nights like tonight I find myself back in the darkness wishing the world was like me.

I wanna read something by you, please

The Poet Jonah wrote:

IrishNameAndAnInjury wrote:

Wow, Cody, that was a powerful poem. I really like the way it started off especially, it pulled me right in. It was actually a little overwhelming to read because I can relate to the emotions, and that's a really good thing. Nice work, and thanks for trusting us enough to share something so personal.

Thanks, it's about me having a very minor case of cerebral palsy which caused a lot of my depression (its not physically visible unless you look close but it causes me a lot of pain in my bones and knees) in the poem I'm conducting the city as if it were a symphony. I am conducting it because I want it to be like me, crooked and disfunctionally painful. also "every step a balancing act" because my feet turn in slightly sometimes I trip. But by the second stanza I realize the world will never be like me, and that I am the depressed one, not the world. I'm the one with the crooked ankles. the third stanza is addressed to my depression. the next two stanzas are about how I'm no longer depressed but the last stanza ends the poem with "I'll always have you" because most nights like tonight I find myself back in the darkness wishing the world was like me.

I wanna read something by you, please

You have a great way of turning your pain into something beautiful. I can relate to your poem on a psychological level, and I learned early on that the world is nothing at all like I am, but I too wish it was sometimes... sigh.

Okay, next I'll post one of my poems, which won't be anywhere near as incredible as yours, but I'll explain. Stay tuned...

staying tuned

That poem was really good dude. I wish I could write poetry that rhymes and still make it sound awesome like that. I really like the notion of trying to conduct the city like a symphony. I'll post a poem soon; this could be a really fun thread

Okay, here's a poem I wrote a couple of years ago. It's very simplistic, but I wrote it when I was in kind of a dark place and I never edited it because of what it represents to me. Here goes nothing!

"Not Even Here"


The sound of lightning

The glimpse of thunder

The powerful feeling of going under

A spell I'll never quite understand

It whispers, "Follow me, take my hand."



The smell of wind

The taste of rain

The agony of happiness

The joy of pain



I'm not myself

I'm not even here

Through the looking glass

I cautiously peer



Inside is a person

I think I know

I can't look away

Can't stop the show



An eternity passes

I eventually find

Everything is normal

I'm just losing my mind

I liked that one too. Especially the end, "Everything is normal, I'm just losing my mind." I think you have some moments that are really poetic, like the "agony of happiness" part.

okay. wow. you stunned me here. this is amazing and so raw! I love it!
The agony of happiness is my new favorite line, ever!
and that last stanza gave me chills! I mean, wow!
you need to look into tanka! it's just really short 5 line poems. you have a very good raw talent here.

I want to see what you guys think this poem is about, it's called Manhattan Hotel. And yeah, it was inspired by the Queen of Lower Chelsea and also Famous Blue Raincoat by Leonard Cohen. All the old singer songwriters used to stay at the Chelsea...

Wow, thanks so much guys! The technical aspects of this poem are pretty weak, I know, but it represents a lot of who I am and what I've overcome to get to this point in my life. My entire childhood, I had an extremely hard time handling change, stress, basically life in general. I would flip out over things that most people didn't think twice about, and sometimes it would take hours to get control of myself (not violent, just horribly sad and hysterical).

After a little while, I would feel my mind floating away from my body, and I would just kind of watch everything that was going on as if it were a movie, and I was just a prop, not the director. The psychological term is depersonalization disorder. There were times when I was afraid that I'd never find my way back, and this poem was written in about two minutes after the last episode I had. I have learned to manage everything much better over the years, but it's been challenging. If I didn't have the ability to write, I don't think I'd be here right now.

Warhol on the walls, music in the ceiling -
West 23rd bound up in city stars.
There are kids in windows, singing on fire escapes,
But Jane just leans against the Chelsea walls in an ocean of smoke.
Around her feet lay the ashes of the boys she’s spurned,
The powder piles higher with every heart she serenades.
Thought I passed her on the street a couple days ago,
Or maybe I just saw her ghost lurking in the subway tunnels.
She spends her days on the street
And spends her nights at the Chelsea,
Straight from one of those old songs about the girls who lose it all.
She’s lost in limestone and yellow cabs,
And now the radio can’t even resurrect her thoughts of home.
I hear organ swells with the sound of her voice,
But all she hears is the rush of the pipes
And the footsteps in the halls.
Jane rides the train past stacks of windows and iron beams,
And with the constellations of city lights blending together,
She’s overwhelmed by the sudden onslaught of memory.
Erasing hazy visions of the courtyards, glass pyramids,
Rain-soaked hills and side streets she loved long ago,
She rides through Manhattan’s glass canyons until the final images are erased.
And on the West 23rd,
Wrought iron balconies squeeze the bricks and the infrastructure.
They bear down on her lungs, squeezing,
Asphyxiating, and choking until there’s nothing left -
Nothing but the cracks in the sidewalk, the frozen Christmas trees,
And the cascading stone bridges that would’ve gotten her out.
And even though we’re both still breathing,
There is nothing we can do for each other now.

The Poet Jonah wrote:

okay. wow. you stunned me here. this is amazing and so raw! I love it!
The agony of happiness is my new favorite line, ever!
and that last stanza gave me chills! I mean, wow!
you need to look into tanka! it's just really short 5 line poems. you have a very good raw talent here.

I think I might have studied tanka a little bit in college, but it's been so long I can't remember for sure. Man, that makes me sound even older than I am! I'll look into it. I am always interested in finding new ways to write!

@irishnameandaninjury I've felt like that before too, just angry over random stuff. I'm glad I could relate to your poem so much, I guess we're all not so different

DeathoftheCool - Wow. That was wonderful! It was like a poem, a song, and a short story all rolled into one. How did you do that?! These lines stuck with me through the whole poem; they just give off such a strong image of the scene and the feeling of what's going on.

There are kids in windows, singing on fire escapes,
But Jane just leans against the Chelsea walls in an ocean of smoke.
Around her feet lay the ashes of the boys she’s spurned,
The powder piles higher with every heart she serenades.

Man, I am so impressed with you guys! I feel like I'm surrounded by greatness!

DeathoftheCool wrote:

Warhol on the walls, music in the ceiling -
West 23rd bound up in city stars.
There are kids in windows, singing on fire escapes,
But Jane just leans against the Chelsea walls in an ocean of smoke.
Around her feet lay the ashes of the boys she’s spurned,
The powder piles higher with every heart she serenades.
Thought I passed her on the street a couple days ago,
Or maybe I just saw her ghost lurking in the subway tunnels.
She spends her days on the street
And spends her nights at the Chelsea,
Straight from one of those old songs about the girls who lose it all.
She’s lost in limestone and yellow cabs,
And now the radio can’t even resurrect her thoughts of home.
I hear organ swells with the sound of her voice,
But all she hears is the rush of the pipes
And the footsteps in the halls.
Jane rides the train past stacks of windows and iron beams,
And with the constellations of city lights blending together,
She’s overwhelmed by the sudden onslaught of memory.
Erasing hazy visions of the courtyards, glass pyramids,
Rain-soaked hills and side streets she loved long ago,
She rides through Manhattan’s glass canyons until the final images are erased.
And on the West 23rd,
Wrought iron balconies squeeze the bricks and the infrastructure.
They bear down on her lungs, squeezing,
Asphyxiating, and choking until there’s nothing left -
Nothing but the cracks in the sidewalk, the frozen Christmas trees,
And the cascading stone bridges that would’ve gotten her out.
And even though we’re both still breathing,
There is nothing we can do for each other now.

I loved this. all of it actually. I wish I could write like this. I'm jealous. In fact I'm super jealous of that last line. It's brilliant. it's magnificent!

DeathoftheCool wrote:

@irishnameandaninjury I've felt like that before too, just angry over random stuff. I'm glad I could relate to your poem so much, I guess we're all not so different

It really means a lot to me to hear that people can relate to what I write. I went through my whole childhood, up until college really, thinking that no one in the world felt like I did, and it was pretty overwhelming. You're absolutely right about us all not being so different. Everyone has challenges and obstacles that they have to overcome, and realizing that you aren't alone can make a huge difference.

Oh, if you don't mind my asking, what's your first name? You can call me Shannon if you want. It's a lot shorter than IrishNameAndAnInjury!

thanks so much guys. it was inspired by a crush i had on this girl i went to europe with for a school trip with a bunch of other people. stretched out the thing for like 6 months and found out she wasnt into me. real dumb, but i guess it affected me a lot; took those feelings and transposed it from her point of view if she moved to new york when she was older. i was definitely a little too bitter when i wrote it, but it makes for good art. goddamned europe

& my name's Matt. Hi Shannon!