Pages: 1
poetry? anyone??????
(CLICK HERE here to view the original thread with full colors/images)
Posted by: Little Wing
i've always liked this one... anyone else have poems they like?
The Tiger
by William Blake
Tyger! Tyger! burning bright
In the forest of the night
What immortal hand or eye
Could frame thy fearful symmetry?
In what distant deeps or skies
Burnt the fire of thine eyes?
On what wings dare he aspire?
What the hand dare seize the fire?
And What shoulder, and what art,
Could twist the sinews of thy heart?
And when thy heart began to beat,
What dread hand? and what dread feet?
What the hammer? what the chain?
In what furnace was thy brain?
What the anvil? what dread grasp
Dare its deadly terrors clasp?
When the stars threw down their spears,
And watered heaven with their tears,
Did he smile his work to see?
Did he who made the lamb make thee?
Tyger! Tyger! burning bright
In the forests of the night,
What immortal hand or eye
Dare frame thy fearful symmetry?
Posted by: Little Wing
The Raven
by Edgar Allan Poe
Once upon a midnight dreary, while I pondered, weak and weary,
Over many a quaint and curious volume of forgotten lore,
While I nodded, nearly napping, suddenly there came a tapping,
As of some one gently rapping, rapping at my chamber door.
"'Tis some visitor," I muttered, "tapping at my chamber door-
Only this, and nothing more."
Ah, distinctly I remember it was in the bleak December,
And each separate dying ember wrought its ghost upon the floor.
Eagerly I wished the morrow;- vainly I had sought to borrow
From my books surcease of sorrow- sorrow for the lost Lenore-
For the rare and radiant maiden whom the angels name Lenore-
Nameless here for evermore.
And the silken sad uncertain rustling of each purple curtain
Thrilled me- filled me with fantastic terrors never felt before;
So that now, to still the beating of my heart, I stood repeating,
"'Tis some visitor entreating entrance at my chamber door-
Some late visitor entreating entrance at my chamber door;-
This it is, and nothing more."
Presently my soul grew stronger; hesitating then no longer,
"Sir," said I, "or Madam, truly your forgiveness I implore;
But the fact is I was napping, and so gently you came rapping,
And so faintly you came tapping, tapping at my chamber door,
That I scarce was sure I heard you"- here I opened wide the door;-
Darkness there, and nothing more.
Deep into that darkness peering, long I stood there wondering,
fearing,
Doubting, dreaming dreams no mortals ever dared to dream before;
But the silence was unbroken, and the stillness gave no token,
And the only word there spoken was the whispered word, "Lenore!"
This I whispered, and an echo murmured back the word, "Lenore!"-
Merely this, and nothing more.
Back into the chamber turning, all my soul within me burning,
Soon again I heard a tapping somewhat louder than before.
"Surely," said I, "surely that is something at my window lattice:
Let me see, then, what thereat is, and this mystery explore-
Let my heart be still a moment and this mystery explore;-
'Tis the wind and nothing more."
Open here I flung the shutter, when, with many a flirt and
flutter,
In there stepped a stately raven of the saintly days of yore;
Not the least obeisance made he; not a minute stopped or stayed
he;
But, with mien of lord or lady, perched above my chamber door-
Perched upon a bust of Pallas just above my chamber door-
Perched, and sat, and nothing more.
Then this ebony bird beguiling my sad fancy into smiling,
By the grave and stern decorum of the countenance it wore.
"Though thy crest be shorn and shaven, thou," I said, "art sure no
craven,
Ghastly grim and ancient raven wandering from the Nightly shore-
Tell me what thy lordly name is on the Night's Plutonian shore!"
Quoth the Raven, "Nevermore."
Much I marvelled this ungainly fowl to hear discourse so plainly,
Though its answer little meaning- little relevancy bore;
For we cannot help agreeing that no living human being
Ever yet was blest with seeing bird above his chamber door-
Bird or beast upon the sculptured bust above his chamber door,
With such name as "Nevermore."
But the raven, sitting lonely on the placid bust, spoke only
That one word, as if his soul in that one word he did outpour.
Nothing further then he uttered- not a feather then he fluttered-
Till I scarcely more than muttered, "other friends have flown
before-
On the morrow he will leave me, as my hopes have flown before."
Then the bird said, "Nevermore."
Startled at the stillness broken by reply so aptly spoken,
"Doubtless," said I, "what it utters is its only stock and store,
Caught from some unhappy master whom unmerciful Disaster
Followed fast and followed faster till his songs one burden bore-
Till the dirges of his Hope that melancholy burden bore
Of 'Never- nevermore'."
But the Raven still beguiling all my fancy into smiling,
Straight I wheeled a cushioned seat in front of bird, and bust and
door;
Then upon the velvet sinking, I betook myself to linking
Fancy unto fancy, thinking what this ominous bird of yore-
What this grim, ungainly, ghastly, gaunt and ominous bird of yore
Meant in croaking "Nevermore."
This I sat engaged in guessing, but no syllable expressing
To the fowl whose fiery eyes now burned into my bosom's core;
This and more I sat divining, with my head at ease reclining
On the cushion's velvet lining that the lamplight gloated o'er,
But whose velvet violet lining with the lamplight gloating o'er,
She shall press, ah, nevermore!
Then methought the air grew denser, perfumed from an unseen censer
Swung by Seraphim whose footfalls tinkled on the tufted floor.
"Wretch," I cried, "thy God hath lent thee- by these angels he
hath sent thee
Respite- respite and nepenthe, from thy memories of Lenore!
Quaff, oh quaff this kind nepenthe and forget this lost Lenore!"
Quoth the Raven, "Nevermore."
"Prophet!" said I, "thing of evil!- prophet still, if bird or
devil!-
Whether Tempter sent, or whether tempest tossed thee here ashore,
Desolate yet all undaunted, on this desert land enchanted-
On this home by horror haunted- tell me truly, I implore-
Is there- is there balm in Gilead?- tell me- tell me, I implore!"
Quoth the Raven, "Nevermore."
"Prophet!" said I, "thing of evil- prophet still, if bird or
devil!
By that Heaven that bends above us- by that God we both adore-
Tell this soul with sorrow laden if, within the distant Aidenn,
It shall clasp a sainted maiden whom the angels name Lenore-
Clasp a rare and radiant maiden whom the angels name Lenore."
Quoth the Raven, "Nevermore."
"Be that word our sign in parting, bird or fiend," I shrieked,
upstarting-
"Get thee back into the tempest and the Night's Plutonian shore!
Leave no black plume as a token of that lie thy soul hath spoken!
Leave my loneliness unbroken!- quit the bust above my door!
Take thy beak from out my heart, and take thy form from off my
door!"
Quoth the Raven, "Nevermore."
And the Raven, never flitting, still is sitting, still is sitting
On the pallid bust of Pallas just above my chamber door;
And his eyes have all the seeming of a demon's that is dreaming,
And the lamplight o'er him streaming throws his shadow on the
floor;
And my soul from out that shadow that lies floating on the floor
Shall be lifted- nevermore!
Posted by: Little Wing
We know this much
by Sappho
We know this much
Death is an evil;
we have the gods'
word for it; they too
would die if death
were a good thing
Posted by: DOMS
How Did You Die?
Did you tackle that trouble that came your way
With a resolute heart and cheerful?
Or hide your face from the light of day
With a craven soul and fearful?
Oh, trouble's a ton, or trouble's an ounce,
Or a trouble is what you make it.
And it isn't the fact that you're hurt that counts,
But only how did you take it?
You are beaten to earth? Well, well, what's that?
Come up with a smiling face.
It's nothing against you to fall down flat,
But to lie there - that's disgrace.
The harder you're thrown, why the higher you bounce;
Be proud of your blackened eye!
It isn't the fact that you're licked that counts;
It's how did you fight and why?
And though you be done to death, what then?
If you battled the best you could;
If you played your part in the world of men,
Why, the critic will call it good.
Death comes with a crawl, or comes with a pounce,
And whether he's slow or spry,
It isn't the fact that you're dead that counts,
But only, how did you die?
- Edmund Vance Cooke
Posted by: Little Wing
very nice. n how true....
Posted by: Little Wing
Pan With Us
by Robert Lee Frost
Pan came out of the woods one day,--
His skin and his hair and his eyes were gray,
The gray of the moss of walls were they,--
And stood in the sun and looked his fill
At wooded valley and wooded hill.
He stood in the zephyr, pipes in hand,
On a height of naked pasture land;
In all the country he did command
He saw no smoke and he saw no roof.
That was well! and he stamped a hoof.
His heart knew peace, for none came here
To this lean feeding save once a year
Someone to salt the half-wild steer,
Or homespun children with clicking pails
Who see so little they tell no tales.
He tossed his pipes, too hard to teach
A new-world song, far out of reach,
For sylvan sign that the blue jay's screech
And the whimper of hawks beside the sun
Were music enough for him, for one.
Times were changed from what they were:
Such pipes kept less of power to stir
The fruited bough of the juniper
And the fragile bluets clustered there
Than the merest aimless breath of air.
They were pipes of pagan mirth,
And the world had found new terms of worth.
He laid him down on the sun-burned earth
And raveled a flower and looked away--
Play? Play?--What should he play?
Posted by: Little Wing
i love this one
Do Not Stand at My Grave and Weep
by Mary Elizabeth Frye
Do not stand at my grave and weep
I am not there. I do not sleep.
I am a thousand winds that blow.
I am the diamond glints on snow.
I am the sunlight on ripened grain.
I am the gentle autumn rain.
When you awaken in the morning's hush
I am the swift uplifting rush
Of quiet birds in circled flight.
I am the soft stars that shine at night.
Do not stand at my grave and cry;
I am not there. I did not die.
Posted by: Little Wing
"I Am Not Yours"
by Sarah Teasdale
I am not yours, not lost in you,
Not lost, although I long to be
Lost as a candle lit at noon,
Lost as a snowflake in the sea.
You love me, and I find you still
A spirit beautiful and bright,
Yet I am I, who long to be
Lost as a light is lost in light.
Oh plunge me deep in love -- put out
My senses, leave me deaf and blind,
Swept by the tempest of your love,
A taper in a rushing wind.
Posted by: Little Wing
If
by Rudyard Kipling
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 on one turn of pitch-and-toss,
And lose, and start again at your beginnings,
And never breathe 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!
Posted by: Flex
"Even a man who is pure at heart and says his prayers by night, may become a wolf when the wolf bane blooms and the moon is shining bright"
Posted by: John H.
Here's one that comes to mind that I enjoy:
TREES by Joyce Kilmer:
"I think I shall never see
A poem lovely as a tree.
A tree whose hungry mouth is prest
Against the earth's sweet flowing breast;
A tree that looks at God all day.
And lifts her leafy arms to prey;
A tree that may in Summer wear
A nest of robins in her hair;
Upon whose bossom snow has lain;
Who intimately lives with rain.
Poems are made by fools like me,
But only God can make a tree.
Take Care, John H.
Posted by: Little Wing
Originally Posted by
Flex
"Even a man who is pure at heart and says his prayers by night, may become a wolf when the wolf bane blooms and the moon is shining bright"
very nice. from The Wolfman.... 
Posted by: Little Wing
Originally Posted by
John H.
Here's one that comes to mind that I enjoy:
TREES by Joyce Kilmer:
"I think I shall never see
A poem lovely as a tree.
A tree whose hungry mouth is prest
Against the earth's sweet flowing breast;
A tree that looks at God all day.
And lifts her leafy arms to prey;
A tree that may in Summer wear
A nest of robins in her hair;
Upon whose bossom snow has lain;
Who intimately lives with rain.
Poems are made by fools like me,
But only God can make a tree.
Take Care, John H.
this reminds me of these parts from
Heart Crazy On You
My love is the evening breeze touching your skin
The gentle sweet singing of leaves in the wind
The whisper that calls, after you in the night
And kisses your ear in the early light
I was a willow last night in my dream
I bent down over a clear running stream
I sang you the song that I heard up above
And you keep me alive with your sweet, flowing love
Posted by: maniclion
Furious fire doused by trickling tears
wanton lust losing its sweetness
and the carnival passions waning
beyond their prime
the violent waves of intense love
eroding the walls of the heart
prone, prone to be easily broken
shattered, shards piercing the mind
let desire become it's morphine
to numb the blinding hurt
so that loves light can be seen
'tis better to be blinded by love than by pain
Posted by: Little Wing
what this from manic?
Posted by: maniclion
Originally Posted by
rockgazer69
what this from manic?
My morning coffee.
Posted by: Little Wing
Originally Posted by
maniclion
My morning coffee.
you wrote this? cool. my baby likes poetry too. some girls are just really lucky.
Posted by: Shae
Foamy's Open Mic Night
Posted by: Little Wing
Originally Posted by
Shae
Posted by: seven11
here's something i wrote like a year ago
innocent river
tonight my town is surrounded by sorrow
tonight everything is drowned in pain
everybody wishes for a little peace toborrow
everybody prays for god to take away the vain
but out of my rivers waters
snakes crawled out and started the slaughters
now all the bodies are swollowed by my river
in attemd to god the inocent souls to deliver
sick is my river Sava
it is visible on the red stain that moves like lava
worried are the rives creatures
they need a plan to clear the stain
here come the wiesest fishes to be their teachers
and formulate a way to wash away the pain
Sava orders its fishes to burry the bodies
and for the inocent childern to be burried in a special place
the fishes were working hard to earn gods grace
rivers crabs dug the childern a space
finally none of the killing was in sight
and now it's the blacksea's turn to carry away the fright
i know the grammer sucks but the poem is alright... by the way sava is a river in my home town
Posted by: Spitfire
Originally Posted by
rockgazer69
The Raven
by Edgar Allan Poe
This is one of my favorites
Posted by: maniclion
I had to live the American nightmare to realize my dreams
and within stood hollow chambers like vacuums drawing it all toward
but I pushed against it and they began to crush the frail bones of my minds arms and I sank into them and maybe I'll finish this later but for now I want to go home.
Posted by: Little Wing
How do I love thee ? Let me count the ways.
I love thee to the depth and breadth and height
My soul can reach, when feeling out of sight
For the ends of Being and ideal Grace.
I love thee to the level of every day's
Most quiet need, by sun and candlelight.
I love thee freely, as men strive for Right;
I love thee purely, as they turn from Praise.
I love thee with the passion put to use ,
In my oId griefs, and with my childhood's faith.
I love thee with a love I seemed to lose
With my lost saints, - I love thee with the breath,
Smiles, tears, of all my life! - and, if God choose,
I shall but love thee better after death.
Posted by: Little Wing
The Mystery
He came and took me by the hand
Up to a red rose tree,
He hept His meaning to Himself,
But gave a rose to me.
I did not pray Him to lay bare
The mystery to me;
Enough the rose was heaven to smell,
And His own face to see.
Ralph Hodgson
Posted by: vanity
Eternal
by Me
It is a night of dark desire, a song of Death,
wolves vent their loneliness. The thirsting one
rises.
Curling wisps of death shrouds her stalking form,
a timeless wanting.
Her ebon hair cascades over
translucent ivory shoulders, and her
full scarlet lips part slightly, to taste the
blood streaming from the
pale flesh beneath
her.
Now a night of new life,
I hunger.
Posted by: Little Wing
Originally Posted by
vanity
Eternal
by Me
It is a night of dark desire, a song of Death,
wolves vent their loneliness. The thirsting one
rises.
Curling wisps of death shrouds her stalking form,
a timeless wanting.
Her ebon hair cascades over
translucent ivory shoulders, and her
full scarlet lips part slightly, to taste the
blood streaming from the
pale flesh beneath
her.
Now a night of new life,
I hunger.
hmmm a poem by me starts
Lupine teeth and feline claws
I find my heart wears these
and piercing the night
a thirsting scream
that bears you to your knees
The moon brings out the beast within
and each time i feel it rise
i search the wind with wolfen ears
and lust to hear your cries
~~~
how perfect
Posted by: Shae
HOW BOUT YOU TWO JUST FUCK ALLREADY!
Posted by: Little Wing
My Gift
tumbling gold all tinged in red
i've made for you a velvet bed
you'll burn with an unyielding pain
till naught but your
mortal soul remains
the victim of my
hungry kiss
but from the cost
etenal bliss
soon you will know the night to be
heavy hung with a hunting moon
come my darling here to me
my gift to you eternity
Posted by: Little Wing
Ah, sweet mercy
i have none...
running will profit you no time
his gifts were infinite
tonite sweet maiden
i remember pomegranites
your hands stained with
them bursting on your tongue
your thundering heart sweet promise
that your blood will burst
on mine.
Posted by: Little Wing
Originally Posted by
Shae
HOW BOUT YOU TWO JUST FUCK ALLREADY!
good idea why didn't i think of it.... oh yea.... i never stop thinking about it 
Posted by: Shae
Originally Posted by
rockgazer69
good idea why didn't i think of it.... oh yea.... i never stop thinking about it
Smartass!
Posted by: Little Wing
his stomach hard against me
impaled upon his kiss
i sense my body opening
to secrets once just his
beneath his touch i tremble
and then begin to ache
i lift my eyes and meet his gaze
i beg my lord to take
my kiss my heart my blood my soul
my life my love my fate
his hunger fuels my passion
and we've both a thirst to slake.
Posted by: Little Wing
Aunt Matillda lives in Dallas, Texas and is a very proper lady. During spring break her 10 year old nephew, Joey, from New York City came to visit. They took a walk through the streets of Dallas. As they were walking a bow-legged cowboy came by and Joey said, "S*#t! Look at his legs! What the hell is wrong with him?"
Aunt Matillda (shocked by his cursing) replied, "Now, Joey, back in New York City you might get by with talking like that but not here in Dallas! We have manners here and you will, too!"
They stopped at an ice cream shop and were sitting at a table when another bow-legged cowboy came by. Joey saw him and said, "Jesus Christ! There's another one!"
Well, that was all that Aunt Matillda could put up with. She decided to take Joey to the library to spend the day with her librarian friend, Miss Gertrude. Joey was to study Shakespeare all day in order to teach him the proper way to speak.
That night after the library had closed, Aunt Matillda and Joey were walking home. Sure enough, another bow-legged cowboy passed by. Aunt Matillda held her breath wondering what Joey would say.
Joey looked at the bow-legged cowboy then looked up at Aunt Matillda and said, "Behold! What manner of men are these? That carry their balls in parenthesis!"
Posted by: Little Wing
I remember the neckcurls, limp and damp as tendrils;
And her quick look, a sidelong pickerel smile;
And how, once startled into talk, the light syllables leaped for her,
And she balanced in the delight of her thought,
A wren, happy, tail into the wind,
Her song trembling the twigs and small branches.
The shade sang with her;
The leaves, their whispers turned to kissing,
And the mould sang in the bleached valleys under the rose.
Oh, when she was sad, she cast herself down into such a pure depth,
Even a father could not find her:
Scraping her cheek against straw,
Stirring the clearest water.
My sparrow, you are not here,
Waiting like a fern, making a spiney shadow.
The sides of wet stones cannot console me,
Nor the moss, wound with the last light.
If only I could nudge you from this sleep,
My maimed darling, my skittery pigeon.
Over this damp grave I speak the words of my love:
I, with no rights in this matter,
Neither father nor lover.
Posted by: Little Wing
Do not go gentle into that good night,
Old age should burn and rave at close of day;
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.
Though wise men at their end know dark is right,
Because their words had forked no lightning they
Do not go gentle into that good night.
Good men, the last wave by, crying how bright
Their frail deeds might have danced in a green bay,
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.
Wild men who caught and sang the sun in flight,
And learn, too late, they grieved it on its way,
Do not go gentle into that good night.
Grave men, near death, who see with blinding sight
Blind eyes could blaze like meteors and be gay,
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.
And you, my father, there on the sad height,
Curse, bless, me now with your fierce tears, I pray.
Do not go gentle into that good night.
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.
Posted by: Little Wing
When I am dead, and over me bright April
Shakes out her rain drenched hair,
Tho you should lean above me broken hearted,
I shall not care.
For I shall have peace.
As leafey trees are peaceful
When rain bends down the bough.
And I shall be more silent and cold hearted
Than you are now.
Posted by: Little Wing
I never got over losing you,
Though your embrace was selfish, pitiless and cold;
Though the only one who occupied your thoughts was you,
Though I returned your indifference a thousandfold.
No, I never got over losing your love,
Though in the end it was a price I was willing to pay;
Though I saw through your malice when push came to shove,
Though I still weep for you at the end of the day.
Posted by: Little Wing
If You Were Coming In The Fall
by Emily Dickinson.
If you were coming in the fall,
I'd brush the summer by
With half a smile and half a spurn,
As housewives do a fly.
If I could see you in a year,
I'd wind the months in balls,
And put them each in separate drawers,
Until their time befalls.
If only centuries delayed,
I'd count them on my hand,
Subtracting till my fingers dropped
Into Van Diemen's land.
If certain, when this life was out,
That yours and mine should be,
I'd toss it yonder like a rind,
And taste eternity.
But now, all ignorant of the length
Of time's uncertain wing,
It goads me, like the goblin bee,
That will not state its sting.
Posted by: Tough Old Man
Originally Posted by
Little Wing
If You Were Coming In The Fall
by Emily Dickinson.
If you were coming in the fall,
I'd brush the summer by
With half a smile and half a spurn,
As housewives do a fly.
If I could see you in a year,
I'd wind the months in balls,
And put them each in separate drawers,
Until their time befalls.
If only centuries delayed,
I'd count them on my hand,
Subtracting till my fingers dropped
Into Van Diemen's land.
If certain, when this life was out,
That yours and mine should be,
I'd toss it yonder like a rind,
And taste eternity.
But now, all ignorant of the length
Of time's uncertain wing,
It goads me, like the goblin bee,
That will not state its sting.
TRUE TELL
Posted by: Little Wing
I Know Why the Caged Bird Sings
The free bird leaps
on the back of the win'
and floats downstream
till the current ends
and dips his wings
in the orange sun rays
and dares to claim the sky.
But a bird that stalks
down his narrow cage
can seldom see through
his bars of rage
his wings are clipped and
his feet are tied
so he opens his throat to sing.
The caged bird sings
with fearful trill
of the things unknown
but longed for still
and 'is tune is heard
on the distant hill for the caged bird
sings of freedom
The free bird thinks of another breeze
an the trade winds soft through the sighing trees
and the fat worms waiting on a dawn-bright lawn
and he names the sky his own.
But a caged bird stands on the grave of dreams
his shadow shouts on a nightmare scream
his wings are clipped and his feet are tied
so he opens his throat to sing
The caged bird sings
with a fearful trill
of things unknown
but longed for still
and his tune is heard
on the distant hill
for the caged bird
sings of freedom.
Maya Angelou
Posted by: Spud
Poetry is gay
Posted by: maniclion
Originally Posted by
Spud
Poetry is gay
Wow I'm a practicing fag because i make words do a few little pirouettes for emphasis....now I must quit because it's been enlightened upon me that my passion to prod my notebook with a pen in undulant strokes to leave an orgasm of ink as gorgeous as an orgasm itself is like dipping my sausage in a manhole.....
Posted by: Spud
Originally Posted by
maniclion
Wow I'm a practicing fag because i make words do a few little pirouettes for emphasis....now I must quit because it's been enlightened upon me that my passion to prod my notebook with a pen in undulant strokes to leave an orgasm of ink as gorgeous as an orgasm itself is like dipping my sausage in a manhole.....
For someone who likes poetry, you sure took that literally.
Posted by: lioness
Originally Posted by
rockgazer69
If
by Rudyard Kipling
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 on one turn of pitch-and-toss,
And lose, and start again at your beginnings,
And never breathe 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!
I carried this in my wallet for almost 2 years...
I knew it by heart...but sometimes reading the words on paper gave me assurance.
Posted by: BoneCrusher
Originally Posted by
maniclion
Wow I'm a practicing fag because i make words do a few little pirouettes for emphasis....now I must quit because it's been enlightened upon me that my passion to prod my notebook with a pen in undulant strokes to leave an orgasm of ink as gorgeous as an orgasm itself is like dipping my sausage in a manhole.....
Maybe he meant that in a gay way ... like weeeeeee are sooooo happyyyyyyyyy?
Posted by: Little Wing
Originally Posted by
lioness
I carried this in my wallet for almost 2 years...
I knew it by heart...but sometimes reading the words on paper gave me assurance.
that's a great poem, and i think something great lives in the hearts of all those who really hear it 
Posted by: maniclion
Originally Posted by
Spud
For someone who likes poetry, you sure took that literally.
On this web-site if you take something illiteral many will think you're being illiterate instead, couldn't take that chance....
Posted by: Little Wing
Posted by: goob
As the clouds roll in slowly,
darkening strips of land,
black sections of tint,
crushed under feet
Thoughts sustain through madness,
end of line, finish the race,
different through turn,
steady at pace.
Whats left behind,
becomes our baggage,
dragging our souls,
now showing our age.
Our loaf is bitter,
becomming withdrawn,
it all tastes sour,
for now reborn.
Light shows path,
never witnessed before,
clarity becomes translucent,
a new type of law.
For now the hills,
are visable for all,
the globe is bright,
and the clouds have gone.
Posted by: SYN
Oh where the hell do I start?
Erase me from the paper that you've put the pigment on
Erase away the scribles that come together as me.
Erase away this thing 'cause it's not what I'm ment to be
Erase this black, the imperfection, and beauty that I lack.
Erase me into nothingnes cause it's where I'm ment to be.
It's not great but I'll post better ones later.
Posted by: Little Wing
n you call me emo
Posted by: SYN
Where are Edens angels that used to shine so bright
Why is it that I can't see them, though I hear them cry at night
Stolen from my eyes with such a tearful surprise
Hello angel, tell me wher are you
Cause I need to dry your tears.
Oh please don't cry tonight.
Posted by: BigDyl
Originally Posted by
maniclion
My morning coffee.
Plagerizer
Posted by: SYN
How can you put these tears in my eyes
And still occupy my stomach with butterflies?
You are beautiful
And I am not
Faded memories
And days we forgot
I want you
I need you
I love you
It's been the same for years
And all I've ever wanted
Was just to hold you near
But you are beautiful
And I am not
A piece of work
And a piece of art
But it's all I ever want
Posted by: maniclion
Originally Posted by
maniclion
I had to live the American nightmare to realize my dreams
and within stood hollow chambers like vacuums drawing it all toward
but I pushed against it and they began to crush the frail bones of my minds arms and I sank into them and maybe I'll finish this later but for now I want to go home.
I lost this i should finish it, started with a solid enough base...
Posted by: SYN
I sit and watch these crimson tears
fall upon the floor
Disapearing into puddles
to be forever more
Taking up the shape
of my broken heart
Watch as this defective romance
proceeds to fall apart
Posted by: SYN
A tear for every raindrop
ever fallen from the sky
A tear for every raindrop
and a tear for every lie
A tear for every broken heart
that's ever had to cry
A tear for every broken heart
left alone to die
A tear for the times you loved me
A tear for the times I thought it was true
A tear for every rose
That never feels the morning dew
Posted by: SYN
My angels wings are just as black
as the acidic tears he cries
Poison drops of sorrow
falling from his hazel eyes
Don't cry no more my darling
it'll be alright
Don't cry no more my dear
I'll hold your through the night
[right.now.i.hate.myself.]
Posted by: fufu
I'm noticing a common theme here...
Posted by: BigDyl
Originally Posted by
fufu
I'm noticing a common theme here...
crimson tears? 
You know, I would bust out something I wrote, but then it would get stolen.
Posted by: SYN
Originally Posted by
BigDyl
crimson tears?
You know, I would bust out something I wrote, but then it would get stolen.
pussy.
j/k
Posted by: Vieope
Originally Posted by
SYN
pussy.
j/k
Gothic?
Posted by: SYN
Originally Posted by
Vieope
Gothic?
Posted by: Vieope
Originally Posted by
SYN
Posted by: SYN
Originally Posted by
Vieope
:|
Posted by: Vieope
Well I agree.
Posted by: maniclion
Originally Posted by
BigDyl
crimson tears?
You know, I would bust out something I wrote, but then it would get stolen.
By my coffee, that fucker steals all the good shit...
Posted by: Little Wing
all the emo guys sing sad songs n then the emo girls want to dry their tears. it's the exact polor opposite of country.... or something
Posted by: Bakerboy
#24
Living large you
Can't street talk
Funny being human
Being sunny
I was there
I had money
You were heat
I was honey
J Sisk
Posted by: SYN
I love this. (Was written for my cuddle bunny [see.gallary.]) it's kind of really supposed to be a song not a poem.
I know a beautiful boy
Who’s a wonderful man
He’s got beautiful friends
And a rock n’ roll band
I find myself
In this perfect situation
Wrapped up in heavenly words
And a sinner’s congregation
C’mon
We’ve got nothin’ to lose
And ev’ry thing to prove
So loosen your hips
And step into to the groove
Caught up in this
Perfect conversation
Oh god damn
The romance of simplication
Get up
Oh baby cover your lips
With the art of fornication
Just lose yourself
In a little excavation
Cause we’ve got nothin’ to lose
And a love story to prove
Babe your whole life is waitin’
Start makin’ your move
Posted by: SYN
You lay beside me
In our bed of sin
I know that you'll be with me
Until the very end
She is cold
You are warm
The perfect balance
My heart is torn
I love you both
So endlessly
I love you both
For eternity
Posted by: SYN
The velvet of your lips
Crashes upon my skin
The unmistakable perfection
of such erotic sin
Let us be the saints of sinners
In the flames of burning lust
We'll fester in this pool
Of homosexual smut
Crusify the dignity
That society beckons for
I like you so much better
When you're moaning on my floor
so? gay boys are hot
Posted by: SYN
She cries these tears like crimson
Bleeding from her skin
Can't find and end or answer
To the riddle that she's in
If a million broken words
Could shatter time and heal the lies
Then my hands will never be
Where all her hopes die.
Posted by: fufu
Ode to my lover
DOMS is so hawt
He likes-a my sweet cawk
So last night I gave him a pink sawk
Posted by: BigDyl
Originally Posted by
fufu
Ode to my lover
DOMS is so hawt
He likes-a my sweet cawk
So last night I gave him a pink sawk
lawl, that's hawt
Posted by: SYN
I swear if i see any of these anywhere someone will die.
Posted by: SYN
Angels in glass boxes
just like butterflies in jars.
How you complicate my life
and simplyfy the scars
A kiss to wash away the blood,
A kiss to heal the pain.
A kiss for all this distance
To simply go away
I lover this one too <3
[twas.another.one.for.cuddle.bunny.[see.gallary]]
Posted by: Vieope
Cuddle bunny?
Posted by: fufu
Originally Posted by
BigDyl
lawl, that's hawt
ty, it was the most loving 15 seconds of my life I've ever spent...
Posted by: fufu
Originally Posted by
SYN
I swear if i see any of these anywhere someone will die.
I guess I shouldn't have posted it on myspace, facebook, my 5 blogs, livejournal, my AIM info, forwarded it to everyone on my email address book and sent it out to Young Talented Poets Inc where it will be read and reviewed by the 5 top poets from every western country.
sorry
Posted by: Vieope
fufu
you are not cool
Did it rhyme? 
Posted by: Little Wing
wanna watch troy?
Posted by: SYN
Originally Posted by
Vieope
Cuddle bunny?
yes...cuddle bunny...that's what I said.
Posted by: Vieope
Originally Posted by
SYN
yes...cuddle bunny...that's what I said.
That is fine, I thought you said bunny.
Posted by: SYN
Originally Posted by
Vieope
That is fine, I thought you said bunny.
*Figets*
Yes. Bunnies are cute and soft.
Except for the blue ones. They kind of smell funny and have seizures due to bouncy things
[i.was.refering.to.the.cuddle.bunny.in.my.gallary.]
Posted by: fufu
Originally Posted by
Vieope
fufu
you are not cool
Did it rhyme?
Posted by: Vieope
Originally Posted by
SYN
*Figets*
Yes. Bunnies are cute and soft.
Except for the blue ones. They kind of smell funny and have seizures due to bouncy things
[i.was.refering.to.the.cuddle.bunny.in.my.gallary.]
Posted by: Vieope
Originally Posted by
fufu
You should die.
Posted by: BigDyl
Originally Posted by
Vieope
You should die.
Posted by: fufu
Originally Posted by
Vieope
You should die.
Only if I am being held in your arms.
viepoe wants me to die
he can go eat a big fur pie
unless of course he likes the chode
he can get a face full of bigdyl's load
Posted by: SYN
Originally Posted by
fufu
Only if I am being held in your arms.
viepoe wants me to die
he can go eat a big fur pie
unless of course he likes the chode
he can get a face full of bigdyl's load
Posted by: Vieope
Originally Posted by
fufu
Only if I am being held in your arms.
viepoe wants me to die
he can go eat a big fur pie
unless of course he likes the chode
he can get a face full of bigdyl's load
Oh fufu I dont want you to die
But what should I do so you may not cry
Hold you tight and pull out your eye
Make the blood pour from inside
I know it would be wrong, I know it would
It could make me happy, I know it could
Posted by: SYN
[I.just.wrote.this.like.two.minutes.ago..I like.it.a.lot. [yes.its.for.the.cuddle.bunny.]
My sorrow it originates
From the darkness of your bitter fate
And it seems like all is lost
Through the sand you dissipate
My beating heart, it never hates
Your goodness I reiterate
And all your mistakes have been forgot
Your fears I wish to swallow
For today and for tomorrow
So that I,
May see you smile
In the summer sun you solidify
My beating heart, it never lies
Pray that this will never die
And I can hold you for a while
I see you looking mournful
A look that you were born for
It’s what your eyeliners worn for
And I wipe the blackened smears
The salt I taste upon my tongue
The fire burning through my lungs
The same sad song I’ve always sung
Your solemn taste of tears
[all.of.these.poems.have.been.written.by.me.]
Posted by: Little Wing
im has a member called mino lee
there is a question when it comes to pee
sitting down or standing up
in a sports bra or an athletic cup
occasionally someone thinks they know
what they'd find if they
ventured below
with a shaking nervous hand
into im neverland
Posted by: fufu
Originally Posted by
Vieope
Oh fufu I dont want you to die
But what should I do so you may not cry
Hold you tight and pull out your eye
Make the blood pour from inside
I know it would be wrong, I know it would
It could make me happy, I know it could
fuck off little rabbit
fuck off little bunny
eat my ass with a large jar of honey
i'd said it once
no, I've said it twice
three times maybe
but it did not suffice
fuck
off
Posted by: The Monkey Man
"Sir Psycho Sexy"
Anthony Kiedis~
A long, long, long, long time ago
Before the wind, before the snow
Lived a man, lived a man I know
Lived a freak of nature named Sir Psycho
Sir Psycho Sexy that is me
Sometimes I find I need to scream
He's a freak of nature
But we love him so
He's a freak of nature
But we let him go
Deep inside the garden of Eden
Standing there with my hardon bleedin'
Theres a devil in my dick and some demons in my semen
Good God no that would be treason
Believe me Eve she gave good reason
Booty looking too good not to be squeezin'
Creamy beaver hotter than a fever
I'm a givin' 'cause she's the reciever
I won't, and I don't hang up until I please her
Makin' her feel like an over achiever
I take it away for a minute just to tease her
Then I give it back a little bit deeper
I got stopped by a lady cop
In my automobile
She said get out and spead your legs
And then she tried to cop a feel
That cop she was all dressed in blue
Was she pretty? Boy I'm tellin' you
She stuck my butt with her big black stick
I said "what's up?" now suck my dick
Like a ram getting ready to jam the lamb
She whimpered just a little when she felt my hand
On her crotch so very warm
I could feel her getting wet through her uniform
Proppin' her up on the black and white
Unzipped and slipped "ooo that's tight"
I swatted her like no swat team can
Turned a cherry pie right into jam
Hello young woman that I love
Pretty punk rock mamma that I'm thinking of
Hold me naked if you will
In your arms in your legs in your pussy I'd kill
To be with you, to kiss with you, I do miss you
I love you
Lay me down ....
Descending waves of graceful pleasure
For your love there is no measure
Her curves they bend with subtle splendor
Now I lay me down to sleep
I pray the funk will make me freak
If I should die before I waked
Allow me Lord to rock out naked
Bored by the ordinary time to take a trip
Calling up a little girl with a bull whip
Lickety split go snap "snap"
Girl gettin' off all in my lap
The tallest tree the sweetest sap
Blowin' my ass right off the map
Ooo and it's nice out here
I think I'll stay for a while
Posted by: fufu
I almost posted RHCP. Imagine that!
Posted by: Strongwarrior
Wow! I'm blown away by the great poetry I read here, I have written a poam, I'm thinking maybe I should post it here
Posted by: Vieope
Originally Posted by
fufu
fuck off little rabbit
fuck off little bunny
eat my ass with a large jar of honey
Sure I will use the honey
Although you are not worth the money
So everyone at IM could ride you like a pony
Like a pony
Like a pony
Posted by: goob
Originally Posted by
Vieope
Sure I will use the honey
Although you are not worth the money
So everyone at IM could ride you like a pony
Like a pony
Like a pony
Please furry bunny
sing a new tune
we know this true
cos fufu's rear
is filled with goo.
He's been playing
the field forever
with an overindulgent
intrest in leather
call this an ode, an adage
to his rusty sherriffs badge,
his rusty sherrrifs badge.
Posted by: Todd Shisler
you people are strange
Posted by: SYN
*shootsself*
Posted by: Todd Shisler
Originally Posted by
SYN
*shootsself*
What seems to be the problem here?
Posted by: Strongwarrior
This is my poem:
Poetry: ''I didn't mean''
I didn't mean to hurt you, I didn't
You were an angel from above, the devil sent me love
in a world of grace and love
feelings of the unloved
illusions of great and sudden defeat
mixing together for the great disbelief
unknown and mystery
dwelling on insanity
capturing your beautiful smile
I'll never forget your love, my child
because true love last forever,
and I never forget you, so whatever
don't hurt me, don't abuse me,
even though the angel has used me...
Maybe we can be friends, or more than that
Please don't love me so much, let's just leave it like that...
StrongWarrior
Posted by: Strongwarrior
I hope you like it....
Posted by: fufu
Originally Posted by
Vieope
Sure I will use the honey
Although you are not worth the money
So everyone at IM could ride you like a pony
Like a pony
Like a pony
Your poems suck
they make me vomit
go get a knife
and meet with lorraine bobbit
Posted by: fufu
Originally Posted by
goob
Please furry bunny
sing a new tune
we know this true
cos fufu's rear
is filled with goo.
He's been playing
the field forever
with an overindulgent
intrest in leather
call this an ode, an adage
to his rusty sherriffs badge,
his rusty sherrrifs badge.
my ass is sure filled
but not how you mentioned
you forgot a minor letter
one that will bring us both to a heavenly ascension
the letter is b
and it comes after goo
yes twas you
who filled me ass with your little boy named blue
Posted by: Vieope
This is so depressing fufu
You will never hear the words "I love you"
Posted by: fufu
true
Posted by: goob
Originally Posted by
fufu
my ass is sure filled
but not how you mentioned
you forgot a minor letter
one that will bring us both to a heavenly ascension
the letter is b
and it comes after goo
yes twas you
who filled me ass with your little boy named blue
oh, the irony strikes
how did you get me at all?
those drinks that were spiked
with viagra and rophynol
As i cry with the shame
and only one i can blame
that dastardly cat
and we were without hat
this may be a ballad
about fufu, who can,
take advantage of me
and my blue viened hooligan
Posted by: SYN
Originally Posted by
Todd Shisler
What seems to be the problem here?
i'm surounded by idiots...
Posted by: SYN
Originally Posted by
Strongwarrior
This is my poem:
Poetry: ''I didn't mean''
I didn't mean to hurt you, I didn't
You were an angel from above, the devil sent me love
in a world of grace and love
feelings of the unloved
illusions of great and sudden defeat
mixing together for the great disbelief
unknown and mystery
dwelling on insanity
capturing your beautiful smile
I'll never forget your love, my child
because true love last forever,
and I never forget you, so whatever
don't hurt me, don't abuse me,
even though the angel has used me...
Maybe we can be friends, or more than that
Please don't love me so much, let's just leave it like that...
StrongWarrior
good. but i like mine better
so whatever
Posted by: Todd Shisler
Originally Posted by
SYN
i'm surounded by idiots...
move!
is that you in your pic?
Posted by: goob
Originally Posted by
SYN
good. but i like mine better
so whatever
Vanity, the devils prime sin
you must be wary
not to let him in
try to step back
from the towering edge
before thou is swallowed
into primeval dredge.
Living under wing
near o' hallowed tree
of a thousand voices
oh, where to begin.
For thou must recess
to the darkest place
where life began
or live with sin.
Posted by: Little Wing
that's very good.
Posted by: Little Wing
Originally Posted by
Todd Shisler
move!
is that you in your pic?
no it is gerard way of my chemical romance. she has some pics in her gallery and 1 from when she was 12 in mine.
Posted by: SYN
Originally Posted by
Little Wing
no it is gerard way of my chemical romance. she has some pics in her gallery and 1 from when she was 12 in mine.
I have fingers you know...i can type.
Posted by: SYN
Originally Posted by
goob
Vanity, the devils prime sin
you must be wary
not to let him in
try to step back
from the towering edge
before thou is swallowed
into primeval dredge.
Living under wing
near o' hallowed tree
of a thousand voices
oh, where to begin.
For thou must recess
to the darkest place
where life began
or live with sin.
Posted by: Vieope
Originally Posted by
SYN
Do you like Poe?
Posted by: Little Wing
Originally Posted by
SYN
I have fingers you know...i can type.
:middlefinger:
Posted by: maniclion
I can't post anymor3 of my stuff
for if I do getting mine published will be tough
under the binds of these complicated times
I will have to stick with my moment spurned rhymes...
Posted by: maniclion
A Sacrifice must be made in the name of art, and pushing my peers to continue would prove to be smart....
Perched on the windowsill of my eyelids,
I see a faint pale glow of a distant fire or her aura flickering savagely o'er the summit of her hip,
Her! she lying there with slightly parted soft pink lip,
whose soul curtains rustle with the raging winds of dream
blowing fiercely through the vast realms of her subconsciousness
I want not to wake her but I desire a kiss....
© Manic Lion
I wrote that watching my girlfriend lay next to me in a deep sleep where the REM of her dream state made her closed eyelids, I refer to as soul curtains they move like windblown curtains, since the eyes are the window to the soul.....
Posted by: SYN
Without you
I’ve no inspiration
Just a fear of life
And simple implication
I’m weak in a world
That demands so much
But you bring me to life
With one simple touch
These words fall
In a manner so hard
From my heart
So frail; so scarred
Something pretty
Something better
A song or poem
Or love letter
Smile just for me
To show me that you care
Smile just for me
And I swear I’ll be right there
[for.cuddle.bunny..[yea.this.fucking.sucks.]
Posted by: Little Wing
[no.it.doesn't.suck]
Posted by: Strongwarrior
Originally Posted by
SYN
good. but i like mine better
so whatever
Thanks man, I apreciate the compliment...
Posted by: SYN
Originally Posted by
Strongwarrior
Thanks man, I apreciate the compliment...
no problem
Posted by: SYN
There is a song I wish to sing
But these high tides hold me
Sand works down into my lungs
To break and shape and mold me
The sun sets and rises
Like the waves that hold me still
I’m trapped inside the ocean
Being held against my will
I wanted freedom and elation
But received only deprivation
From the life I wish to lead
And into salty devastation
Posted by: DontStop
heres one for u guys
"itd be an advantage to the literary world if most writers stopped writing entirely"
Posted by: SYN
Blue moon in a bottle
Keepin' all the sunshine for yourself
You locked me in the darkest room
From all the things I wished you'd say
Hurt me
Abuse me
Anything you want
As long as you love me
And swear on every star.
Blue eyes seeing through me
Every flaw
Every mistake.
And you read me like the ocean
When you're leavin' me in your wake
Hurt me
Abuse me
Anything you want.
As long as you love me.
And swear on every beat of your heart.
Blue moon over the ocean
There's a message in the sky
It's telling me to get away
It's telling me to fly
'Cause you can use me
And abuse me
All you want.
But you'll never break my heart.
Posted by: BigDyl
That's emo and gay.
....oh wait.
Posted by: Dumby
Ahh, here are some random ones. I'm not that good, but I try right? Their's a lot of misspelled words as I was probably intoxicated on something when writing these.
i was confused
and didn't know what to say
in the way, that i wished i could belay
the wounds of time which we began
and could easily end, but sin, begin
to lend life to the inoccent
for the reason of corruptions, eruptions
of the elements in our souls
like foals out to pasture, and we
just smile, and let our eyesroll back
while we live our lives in a constant
merry go round on a stationary track
while hip hoppin i'm drip droppin
these words of exstacy which came
unbridled from the lips of poverity
that grace this face in hopes of one bite to eat
from the well that is you, the future
which is us, and the past that was me is dead
walk with me if only for one step in this
endless death march we call life
inevtiably irrevocably brought to the conclusion
that we as men are great
beyond all imagination, in our compacity to but love
like the dove...in flight, peace to all, god bless our souls
Another
serveral ways to enter this dayze
which I marched into backwards, ass first
and water is what teaches us thirst
so I drank the fuckin ocean, of emotion,
from your lips and hips
just to see if you'd smile, but I was in denial
for thinking that you could understand, in your
fairy tale land
that anyone else matters, but it's okay
cause I'd be your peter pan if you only
you'd fly away with me, i'd float away, just kick back
and snick snack on the tick tack that is you
my breath of fresh air
crackin, muh slackin, jah jackin lingo just to see
if you could keep up and rewind it
like a good porno, at just the right moment
but that's a different story [ book love ]
Posted by: DontStop
haiku:
Poetry is gay
It is a waste of my time
end this thread right now
Posted by: MCx2
Here's a song I wrote some years back. I was pissed about politics I think.
Your words don’t mean to me, what they used to mean oh no
I’m not the cheating kind, but I think of it sometimes
Cut the power the home is all but gone, no it won’t be long.
Face the music it’s not so sweet to me, like it used to be.
Before this day goes by, let me understand my pride.
Bought and sold on the internet, for $9.95
What does the future hold for us? The past has seen it, bloodied in a wake of tears
Ashes replace the ones we love, the ones we love our lover’s sweetest heart.
It’s hard for me to wake and smile, but I know it’s just a dream.
Despite the fact that were all alone, and few make it home.
Posted by: Little Wing
Originally Posted by
DontStop
haiku:
Poetry is gay
It is a waste of my time
end this thread right now
if you don't like poetry stay out of the thread rather than coming in it just to shit on something that obviously is important to the people sharing things they've written here. it takes a bit of balls, especially for the guys, to post up their poetry. nothing wrong with saying you don't like poetry but in a thread designed for people to share poetry repeatedly knocking it is pretty ignorant.
Posted by: DontStop
i was just kidding
I'm a gifted writer. when i was in grade 6 my school sent me to gifted writing courses.
all in good humour LW
but the poetry i prefer is that which is in lyrics.
Posted by: Dumby
Originally Posted by
DontStop
i was just kidding
I'm a gifted writer. when i was in grade 6 my school sent me to gifted writing courses.
all in good humour LW
but the poetry i prefer is that which is in lyrics.
All songs are poetry put to music. You make no point. Lyrics are words, which equal poetry. My brain just exploded.
Posted by: DontStop
I'm blonde.
thats my scapegoat for today.
must not have been a very big explosion.
Posted by: Dumby
Originally Posted by
DontStop
I'm blonde.
thats my scapegoat for today.
must not have been a very big explosion.
No, the big one was in my pants.
Posted by: DontStop
towel?
Posted by: Dumby
Face.
Posted by: MCx2
Originally Posted by
DontStop
i was just kidding
I'm a gifted writer. when i was in grade 6 my school sent me to gifted writing courses.
all in good humour LW
but the poetry i prefer is that which is in lyrics.
Share something.
Posted by: DontStop
this was a quicky. I'm a descriptive writer. I mostly enjoy writing about observation, and non fiction. i dont usually write about feelings.
When i was in grade six i wrote something like this, but believe it or not a bit more better. it was the reason i was sent to that class.
anyway
yuck
On his knees. Cuts etched into his carcass like that of a tree fallen victim to the Swiss of a lovestruck boy. What had just happened? To his right lay what use to be his arm. The angry dog of war had shredded the arm to nothing but a bloody mess, speckled with the white of bone. But intact, lay his hand. The soldier looked down at it with new eyes, and tears began to sign his face. Not because he was in pain, no, but what he had lost was part of his story. Those hands had caressed the only women worth loving. The only thing worth giving a damn about. That hand had interlocked with hers. That hand had held the head of his newborn boy. That hand, now on the shrapnel riddled ground, held the remnants of his soul. In his grave, never at rest.
Posted by: Brachiisaurus
Originally Posted by
DontStop
this was a quicky. I'm a descriptive writer. I mostly enjoy writing about observation, and non fiction. i dont usually write about feelings.
When i was in grade six i wrote something like this, but believe it or not a bit more better. it was the reason i was sent to that class.
anyway
yuck
On his knees. Cuts etched into his carcass like that of a tree fallen victim to the Swiss of a lovestruck boy. What had just happened? To his right lay what use to be his arm. The angry dog of war had shredded the arm to nothing but a bloody mess, speckled with the white of bone. But intact, lay his hand. The soldier looked down at it with new eyes, and tears began to sign his face. Not because he was in pain, no, but what he had lost was part of his story. Those hands had caressed the only women worth loving. The only thing worth giving a damn about. That hand had interlocked with hers. That hand had held the head of his newborn boy. That hand, now on the shrapnel riddled ground, held the remnants of his soul. In his grave, never at rest.
Not bad for a 6th grader.
Posted by: KentDog
Psychological Warfare
This is boxing, a sport of seventy or more percent mental,
Only thirty percent physical, if even that much.
To force her to love you –
To think you are always right,
You must hit from different angles,
Time everything perfectly.
In the game of love,
It’s not just you and her,
Many people are involved.
Your corner – her corner – the promoters – They are
Your friends – her friends – mutual friends –
Use them to your advantage.
Every opponent is different.
Each opponent may require a different strategy
To break down.
Some require more physical to overwhelm,
Some require more mental.
The key is to adjust your game –
Never become too predictable.
Every boxer’s career has its highs and its lows.
Train hard –
Train properly –
You will become that much closer to perfecting your game.
Even after a loss, take what you have learned with you
In the path for glory.
But be cautious,
This is a sport of high stakes.
A loss could very well affect your pick of future opponents, and
Lead to less quality opposition.
Here's one I scrapped after it was ripped apart by my prof, although it was well received by my peers:
For Those Short Moments (DRAFT)
I see her across the room
Twice a week
But we don’t speak
I don’t even know her name
But I think of her liking me
And my life is no longer dull
For those short moments
She is so beautiful
But so is my girlfriend
I miss her so much
But not for those short moments.
Another:
Short Skirt, Long Socks
I love seeing girls walking around
In short skirts and long socks.
It’s so sexy.
I mean, talk about a winning combination.
It surely gives pizza and beer a run for its money.
It’s so hypnotic.
It’s one of those things that once you see,
It’s in your head for a while.
Like the taste of tacos when you burp
Two hours after eating some.
You know how in movies when a sexy girl is trying to distract the bad guy so
The good guy can steal whatever back it is they got stolen from them to begin with and
You’re like, “that would never happen in real life!?”
Well it would if she were wearing a short skirt and long socks.
Short Skirt and Long Socks Girl would make a great television show or something;
I would watch that garbage. I’m watching it now.
This one was written when I cared about a girl:
Picture Perfect
The smell of leaves drying carries through a subtle breeze.
It is a faint smell, but without it
There is no feeling of autumn.
Nina and I walk through the park,
Hands held together gently.
It is a picture perfect scenario
Frequently dreamt of and desired by so many.
I turn to her – hands no longer hugging
But rather on her waist they now rest.
I lean forward – leaves politely fall around us
As we kiss.
These two were written when I stopped caring for her so much...
Cheated
I am Carl Lewis, and I am one-hundred meters from glory –
I am that close.
I have worked so hard for this and I am just
Seconds out from fulfilling my dreams.
My medal is so beautiful.
I have thought for months on end
That she was everything I had ever wanted.
Who knew she could be taken from me
By some cheat? It’s not Ben Johnson,
They call this national disgrace Spencer
And he is everything she has said she didn’t want.
Nevertheless – Cheat or no cheat, he beat me.
I know I can get another gold
But it won’t be the same medal;
You can never give back what was taken.
The ceremony – memories stolen –
Thanksgiving with her.
Even with my medal, nothing will be the same.
Sure the records will show I won
But no one will remember it taking place
Because it never did.
Untitled
I gave you my heart
And you danced on it with your six inch heels
Smiling because you knew I’d keep coming back
To my goddess, anything for you
- because for Christ’s sake -
You were everything to me, my A to Z, to me
The most beautiful flower would shrivel in shame next to you
Which is where I would lay upon waking
And feel goddamn wonderful
Being the luckiest person I knew
And of those I did not know
Because, disillusioned, I had found true love,
And she came in size perfect
But with heart sold separately.
Posted by: SYN
wtf?
Posted by: MCx2
Originally Posted by
SYN
wtf?
Posted by: BigDyl
Originally Posted by
Brachiisaurus
Not bad for a 6th grader.
Posted by: MCx2
Another, this one is 6 or 7 years old:
Out of the blue, something surreal, grabs a hold of me tight got me back on my heels.
Swept under the rug the back of my mind.
Out of my daze, end of the night, keep a jar full of files try to follow their light. Say goodbye to you just one last time.
Desperate measures, desperate times are on the way, so don’t be scared.
For letting go and moving on from those who care, they won’t be there.
In case you didn’t know this is my life. Said in case you just did not know this is my life.
Well you said you’re thirsty but your herd is not heading for water. So why must we always follow those who don’t know the way?
Following footsteps through the night, indelible moonlight changed my life, my wrong from right, my future’s now in sight.
In case you didn’t know, this is my life. Said in case you just did not know this is my life.
Posted by: DontStop
When i was in grade 6 i had mad skills. I'm a descriptive writer.
Poetry is almost too surreal for me
Posted by: Little Wing
Originally Posted by
KentDog
Psychological Warfare
This is boxing, a sport of seventy or more percent mental,
Only thirty percent physical, if even that much.
To force her to love you –
To think you are always right,
You must hit from different angles,
Time everything perfectly.
In the game of love,
It’s not just you and her,
Many people are involved.
Your corner – her corner – the promoters – They are
Your friends – her friends – mutual friends –
Use them to your advantage.
Every opponent is different.
Each opponent may require a different strategy
To break down.
Some require more physical to overwhelm,
Some require more mental.
The key is to adjust your game –
Never become too predictable.
Every boxer’s career has its highs and its lows.
Train hard –
Train properly –
You will become that much closer to perfecting your game.
Even after a loss, take what you have learned with you
In the path for glory.
But be cautious,
This is a sport of high stakes.
A loss could very well affect your pick of future opponents, and
Lead to less quality opposition.
Here's one I scrapped after it was ripped apart by my prof, although it was well received by my peers:
For Those Short Moments (DRAFT)
I see her across the room
Twice a week
But we don’t speak
I don’t even know her name
But I think of her liking me
And my life is no longer dull
For those short moments
She is so beautiful
But so is my girlfriend
I miss her so much
But not for those short moments.
Another:
Short Skirt, Long Socks
I love seeing girls walking around
In short skirts and long socks.
It’s so sexy.
I mean, talk about a winning combination.
It surely gives pizza and beer a run for its money.
It’s so hypnotic.
It’s one of those things that once you see,
It’s in your head for a while.
Like the taste of tacos when you burp
Two hours after eating some.
You know how in movies when a sexy girl is trying to distract the bad guy so
The good guy can steal whatever back it is they got stolen from them to begin with and
You’re like, “that would never happen in real life!?”
Well it would if she were wearing a short skirt and long socks.
Short Skirt and Long Socks Girl would make a great television show or something;
I would watch that garbage. I’m watching it now.
This one was written when I cared about a girl:
Picture Perfect
The smell of leaves drying carries through a subtle breeze.
It is a faint smell, but without it
There is no feeling of autumn.
Nina and I walk through the park,
Hands held together gently.
It is a picture perfect scenario
Frequently dreamt of and desired by so many.
I turn to her – hands no longer hugging
But rather on her waist they now rest.
I lean forward – leaves politely fall around us
As we kiss.
These two were written when I stopped caring for her so much...
Cheated
I am Carl Lewis, and I am one-hundred meters from glory –
I am that close.
I have worked so hard for this and I am just
Seconds out from fulfilling my dreams.
My medal is so beautiful.
I have thought for months on end
That she was everything I had ever wanted.
Who knew she could be taken from me
By some cheat? It’s not Ben Johnson,
They call this national disgrace Spencer
And he is everything she has said she didn’t want.
Nevertheless – Cheat or no cheat, he beat me.
I know I can get another gold
But it won’t be the same medal;
You can never give back what was taken.
The ceremony – memories stolen –
Thanksgiving with her.
Even with my medal, nothing will be the same.
Sure the records will show I won
But no one will remember it taking place
Because it never did.
Untitled
I gave you my heart
And you danced on it with your six inch heels
Smiling because you knew I’d keep coming back
To my goddess, anything for you
- because for Christ’s sake -
You were everything to me, my A to Z, to me
The most beautiful flower would shrivel in shame next to you
Which is where I would lay upon waking
And feel goddamn wonderful
Being the luckiest person I knew
And of those I did not know
Because, disillusioned, I had found true love,
And she came in size perfect
But with heart sold separately.
i like these.
Posted by: KentDog
Originally Posted by
Little Wing
i like these.
Thank you so much, Little Wing. I was actually pretty self-conscious about posting them online, since I don't like to show people that side of me. I may share more later, but be forewarned, they are pretty much all emo.
Posted by: SYN
Whisper,
Taking my hand in yours.
Eyelashes flutter,
Parting to reveal dull eyes.
Sigh to avert the gaze of empty.
Say it a little louder.
The look of confusion and worry.
The eyes of a best friend,
An everything.
Lips move to speak in urgency,
But pressed fingers hush.
Take a seat,
Take a moment
To study the animal before you,
Dressed in the same tired jeans.
That faded look of once miraculous eyes.
Now they’re just a tomb.
What life used to lie inside?
My problems.
I can’t solve them.
Maybe I don’t want to.
I might like being broken.
After all I was born that way.
I’ve been hurting for a lifetime.
For every wrong decision,
Every mistake.
For anything.
You beg, desperate for an idea,
How to take away the pain.
Remember when I used to laugh?
When I used to smile?
The one who could face the world.
Before the weight fell on my shoulders,
And I started drowning.
I look at the pleading being before me,
And do nothing more.
No reply, no nothing.
You hear it but don't take it in.
So desperate,
So desperate and begging
For a chance to make it better.
Close your eyes.
Breath deeply.
Wish you could make it better.
"You can't hide from this.
Don’t you see that you can't?"
"I try, baby I try"
Tears moistening your vision.
"Don’t leave me."
"That will never happen."
But I can't promise that.
"The lies hurt."
Reaching up for light,
The hands of darkness pull me down.
We won't be running away tomorrow.
I’ll still be hurting.
You’ll still be trying to help.
Trying isn't enough.
Yet the determination on your face,
It hurts as you try to save me.
From falling.
To save my heart from falling.
But it's slipping right through your trembling fingers,
And all I can do is watch as love is destroyed
Posted by: SYN
Magic 8 Ball
I finally got the nerve
To tell myself that everything would be okay
But you went away
And now I'm stuck here wondering
Will it ever get better?
Will the rain dry away?
And will the sun come out
Will you play with me?
So I'll be okay
I finally got the nerve to talk to you
And after fumbling and falling
And tripping on all of my words
All that you heard was
Will it ever get better?
Can the weather get wetter?
I just don't wanna stay
Posted by: goob
A filthy sneer, a demon's grin,
to be the best, born to win,
laughing fast, downward glance,
your efforts lame, oh how I dance,
foot on grave, enjoy your rest,
soon to believe, I am the best,
I am diamond, to your stone,
lyrics bare, stripped to bone,
calling time, on this lesson,
spitting bullets, smith and wesson,
oh the irony, oh the invention,
this thread's poetry, equals pretention.
Posted by: Nate K
Lifting keeps you sane. Let me go, drugs really got a hold of me. Standing next to you, who are you, stuck. Get the fuck out, straight.
Haha, hehe. What is "I" when you change so easily. Look and see, not only by light, look and see with all senses-bright. The head "thinks" up with these little things to say. Shut your mouth and express what's really there.
Posted by: Little Wing
these are all good.
Posted by: MCx2
Perched (song, acoustic)
I've climbed to the top of the tallest tree, for miles and miles I'd see, my true love came to me.
But I've fallen, steady and fast, so hard to the ground, and there's no one I know, around.
Maybe this time, there's a lesson to be learned?
So many bridges burned, so many stones left unturned.
As for me, I'm left here, all alone. Strangely enough I feel content, I feel at home.
Follow my heart, more so now than ever before. Pick up the pieces that cover my floor.
Ironed my shirt and I polished my shoes, a cure for these thinking blues, a cure for you.
I know that this time, there's a lesson that I learned.
Mending the bridges burned, collecting stones that I earned.
As for me, I am perched, I remain here all alone. But still I'm content, still I'm at home. I'm home.
Posted by: maniclion
Originally Posted by
KentDog
Psychological Warfare
This is boxing, a sport of seventy or more percent mental,
Only thirty percent physical, if even that much.
To force her to love you –
To think you are always right,
You must hit from different angles,
Time everything perfectly.
In the game of love,
It’s not just you and her,
Many people are involved.
Your corner – her corner – the promoters – They are
Your friends – her friends – mutual friends –
Use them to your advantage.
Every opponent is different.
Each opponent may require a different strategy
To break down.
Some require more physical to overwhelm,
Some require more mental.
The key is to adjust your game –
Never become too predictable.
Every boxer’s career has its highs and its lows.
Train hard –
Train properly –
You will become that much closer to perfecting your game.
Even after a loss, take what you have learned with you
In the path for glory.
But be cautious,
This is a sport of high stakes.
A loss could very well affect your pick of future opponents, and
Lead to less quality opposition.
Here's one I scrapped after it was ripped apart by my prof, although it was well received by my peers:
For Those Short Moments (DRAFT)
I see her across the room
Twice a week
But we don’t speak
I don’t even know her name
But I think of her liking me
And my life is no longer dull
For those short moments
She is so beautiful
But so is my girlfriend
I miss her so much
But not for those short moments.
Another:
Short Skirt, Long Socks
I love seeing girls walking around
In short skirts and long socks.
It’s so sexy.
I mean, talk about a winning combination.
It surely gives pizza and beer a run for its money.
It’s so hypnotic.
It’s one of those things that once you see,
It’s in your head for a while.
Like the taste of tacos when you burp
Two hours after eating some.
You know how in movies when a sexy girl is trying to distract the bad guy so
The good guy can steal whatever back it is they got stolen from them to begin with and
You’re like, “that would never happen in real life!?”
Well it would if she were wearing a short skirt and long socks.
Short Skirt and Long Socks Girl would make a great television show or something;
I would watch that garbage. I’m watching it now.
This one was written when I cared about a girl:
Picture Perfect
The smell of leaves drying carries through a subtle breeze.
It is a faint smell, but without it
There is no feeling of autumn.
Nina and I walk through the park,
Hands held together gently.
It is a picture perfect scenario
Frequently dreamt of and desired by so many.
I turn to her – hands no longer hugging
But rather on her waist they now rest.
I lean forward – leaves politely fall around us
As we kiss.
These two were written when I stopped caring for her so much...
Cheated
I am Carl Lewis, and I am one-hundred meters from glory –
I am that close.
I have worked so hard for this and I am just
Seconds out from fulfilling my dreams.
My medal is so beautiful.
I have thought for months on end
That she was everything I had ever wanted.
Who knew she could be taken from me
By some cheat? It’s not Ben Johnson,
They call this national disgrace Spencer
And he is everything she has said she didn’t want.
Nevertheless – Cheat or no cheat, he beat me.
I know I can get another gold
But it won’t be the same medal;
You can never give back what was taken.
The ceremony – memories stolen –
Thanksgiving with her.
Even with my medal, nothing will be the same.
Sure the records will show I won
But no one will remember it taking place
Because it never did.
Untitled
I gave you my heart
And you danced on it with your six inch heels
Smiling because you knew I’d keep coming back
To my goddess, anything for you
- because for Christ’s sake -
You were everything to me, my A to Z, to me
The most beautiful flower would shrivel in shame next to you
Which is where I would lay upon waking
And feel goddamn wonderful
Being the luckiest person I knew
And of those I did not know
Because, disillusioned, I had found true love,
And she came in size perfect
But with heart sold separately.
I like the untitiled one; been there, bought the shirt////and the shot glass
Posted by: KentDog
Originally Posted by
maniclion
I like the untitiled one; been there, bought the shirt////and the shot glass
Thanks, manic. I guess it happens to the best of us.
Posted by: KelJu
I lost my phone this morning
But I knew I would find it sooner or later
My buddy called an hour ago
I heard it ringing in the refrigerator
Posted by: Little Wing
Posted by: MCx2
Originally Posted by
KelJu
I lost my phone this morning
But I knew I would find it sooner or later
My buddy called an hour ago
I heard it ringing in the refrigerator
I thought you said you quit smoking pot?
Posted by: BoneCrusher
Originally Posted by
ReproMan
I thought you said you quit smoking pot?
Posted by: Little Wing
Originally Posted by
ReproMan
I thought you said you quit smoking pot?
well, now we know why
Posted by: KelJu
Originally Posted by
ReproMan
I thought you said you quit smoking pot?
I wrote that poem a year ago, and yes I was stoned as hell when I wrote it. It is a true story by the way.
Posted by: SYN
Liar Liar [burn in hell]
Damned by pretty boys with pretty voices
Just let me get some rest
The voices and the noises
They're keeping me up nights
With promises of dreams unwanted
And the secrets that they keep
I’ll never sleep
I’ll never sleep
I’ll never sleep
I’ll never sleep
I’m drowning in a pool of your own tears
They strangle me and hold me down with the weight of all my fears
I can’t keep my head above the ocean
My lungs are sucking in the salt
In the wake of your destruction
I feel like it’s all my fault
I can't wake up this time
I can’t wake up
I can't wake up
I can’t wake up
It’s all your fault
(CLICK HERE here to view the original thread with full colors/images)
poetry? anyone??????
