Strike
Freestyle Poem
By Ralith
Earth
Floating freely, specks of cosmic dust on the cosmic level, mocing with a will, living and breathing.
Comet
Rocks held together by threads of ice and gravity, dust permeating, causing glowing light shows to the slect few who might look upon it's brilliance.
The comets path take it, flings it around a glowing reaction called a star, hurling through space at tremendous speed and energy.
Comet, tempered by flame of star and cold of vacuum, gliddes through the orbits of planes, swinging around and orb of heat and light, swimming in a pool of nothingness, it first covers the living dust with a blanket of wonder, captivated by it's beauty.
Strike
Light, brighter than any star, caused by primal forces.
Light, heralded by sound, and heat, and pressure, causing death and destruction on a scale impossible to measure.
Energy, striking the masses of liquid and life with such force that the epicenter of the blast is transformed beyond a gaseous state into plasma.
Energy, laying massive blows against the giant plates of rock and soil and life, floating on magma and created by sheer chance, held together by the will of gravity.
Death
Life unable to cope with the heat, and the cold of the rain and the snow falling forever, fades away into nothing, dying by the billions. The cold of vacuum striking just after the heat, and the ice progressing from the poles inexorably to meet it's opposite killing any which survives the original strike.
Then nothing.
(Post Your) Incredible Poems (Here!)
Moderators: Jacque, Moderators General, Prelates
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Ralith The Third
- Don't Ask About His Nephews
- Posts: 782
- Joined: Sun Jan 25, 2009 5:21 pm UTC
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Beaniedude
- Posts: 35
- Joined: Wed Apr 16, 2008 9:25 am UTC
Re: (Post Your) Incredible Poems (Here!)
Here is one I made in Year 11 during an English lesson. In my defence it was either do this or write a practise essay.
Cows
As I sit down on a starless sky.
Contemplating "Why o why,
Why do cows grunt why do they moo?
Why dont cows cockadoodledo?
Where o where has my cow herd gone?
I was only a while, eating some corn
but now I return to this paddock of mine.
I ask where they are but the stablehand replys "Nien".
Knowing them they are far far away,
having some adventures eating some hay.
I imagine them up on a hill
silently standing, silently still.
Then all of sudden with a great uproar.
They start stampeading twos by twos, four by fours
Down the valley into the run.
Children gazed in awe, eating their buns.
Eventually my herd will stop
and one will stand right on top
of the old hill with the moon behind.
Then he will project the thoughts on his mind
"United we fight! divided we fall!
Tonight my comrades we will call
Our friends the roosters the chickens and hens,
We will liberate the pigs out of their pens.
Tonight we will start the revolution
We will fight and state "You are not the answer to evolution!"
So now cows,"To Battle!" I say.
Some of you might not see the day
But that is the cost of battle my friends
but those who live, that see the end
will rejoice in the joyous streets
where noone will think of consuming any meats.
It is tommorow that we are fighting for
The freedom to move, the freedom for more!"
He will finish his speech the cows mesmerised with awe
"or...." ventured another filled with fear
"we could go to the pub and grab a beer"
there was a mumur of agreement and a vote was taken
to the pub they went without a moments hesitation.
When the last will leave to drunkeness he'll commit
a farmer will stare and will simply say...."Better get started on this pit""
Cows
As I sit down on a starless sky.
Contemplating "Why o why,
Why do cows grunt why do they moo?
Why dont cows cockadoodledo?
Where o where has my cow herd gone?
I was only a while, eating some corn
but now I return to this paddock of mine.
I ask where they are but the stablehand replys "Nien".
Knowing them they are far far away,
having some adventures eating some hay.
I imagine them up on a hill
silently standing, silently still.
Then all of sudden with a great uproar.
They start stampeading twos by twos, four by fours
Down the valley into the run.
Children gazed in awe, eating their buns.
Eventually my herd will stop
and one will stand right on top
of the old hill with the moon behind.
Then he will project the thoughts on his mind
"United we fight! divided we fall!
Tonight my comrades we will call
Our friends the roosters the chickens and hens,
We will liberate the pigs out of their pens.
Tonight we will start the revolution
We will fight and state "You are not the answer to evolution!"
So now cows,"To Battle!" I say.
Some of you might not see the day
But that is the cost of battle my friends
but those who live, that see the end
will rejoice in the joyous streets
where noone will think of consuming any meats.
It is tommorow that we are fighting for
The freedom to move, the freedom for more!"
He will finish his speech the cows mesmerised with awe
"or...." ventured another filled with fear
"we could go to the pub and grab a beer"
there was a mumur of agreement and a vote was taken
to the pub they went without a moments hesitation.
When the last will leave to drunkeness he'll commit
a farmer will stare and will simply say...."Better get started on this pit""
"You're a hyper bowl" - Mrs Perry
"STOP STEALING THE ELECTRONS FROM THE CARPET!" - Mr D
"STOP STEALING THE ELECTRONS FROM THE CARPET!" - Mr D
Spoiler:
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bigglesworth
- I feel like Biggles should have a title
- Posts: 7461
- Joined: Sat Apr 07, 2007 9:29 pm UTC
- Location: Airstrip One
Re: (Post Your) Incredible Poems (Here!)
Knight in Rusted Armour.
How dull it is to pause, to make an end,
To rust unburnish'd, not to shine in use!
My lady. I offer my sword.
The years have not been kind. Blunt and heavy.
Useful for a pacifist's fight. Used less and less. Rust.
It takes a strong hand to wield. I put my hand at your service. Leave the sword in its sheath.
I put on my maille. The links rust, holding me in place.
Yet it still protects my heart, so that I can look to defend yours.
Behind steel it beats for you. In my hand and in your eyes I see yours.
As mine beats slower and slower, I shall do my best. To let yours race to its will.
My shield, I hold over you. Arrow heads rust on its face. Nothing shows on mine.
Reassurance from anything you fear. I will take the missiles on my back.
This armour to save my body. My soul extinguish'd to save yours.
What strength I have left in my arms, I use.
To hold you while you die in mine.
How dull it is to pause, to make an end,
To rust unburnish'd, not to shine in use!
My lady. I offer my sword.
The years have not been kind. Blunt and heavy.
Useful for a pacifist's fight. Used less and less. Rust.
It takes a strong hand to wield. I put my hand at your service. Leave the sword in its sheath.
I put on my maille. The links rust, holding me in place.
Yet it still protects my heart, so that I can look to defend yours.
Behind steel it beats for you. In my hand and in your eyes I see yours.
As mine beats slower and slower, I shall do my best. To let yours race to its will.
My shield, I hold over you. Arrow heads rust on its face. Nothing shows on mine.
Reassurance from anything you fear. I will take the missiles on my back.
This armour to save my body. My soul extinguish'd to save yours.
What strength I have left in my arms, I use.
To hold you while you die in mine.
Last edited by bigglesworth on Mon Feb 16, 2009 3:03 am UTC, edited 1 time in total.
Generation Y. I don't remember the First Gulf War, but do remember floppy disks.
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greeniguana00
- Posts: 113
- Joined: Sun Mar 30, 2008 12:09 am UTC
- Location: Albany, NY, USA
Re: (Post Your) Incredible Poems (Here!)
Wow, bigglesworth, that was great! Beautiful idea.
Goodnight, g♥♥dnight! There's something magnificent about good night with two disemboweled hearts in it, or at least it seems that way when you're so happy.
Re: (Post Your) Incredible Poems (Here!)
With two hours left, I hasten to type.
When I get back, I will have to gripe
To the teachers that assigned this tripe.
Homework is not worth the hype!
EDIT: Wow, that was really sad compared to the others in this thread. I will have to redo mine.
When I get back, I will have to gripe
To the teachers that assigned this tripe.
Homework is not worth the hype!
EDIT: Wow, that was really sad compared to the others in this thread. I will have to redo mine.
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bigglesworth
- I feel like Biggles should have a title
- Posts: 7461
- Joined: Sat Apr 07, 2007 9:29 pm UTC
- Location: Airstrip One
Re: (Post Your) Incredible Poems (Here!)
No, I liked it. All sorts of poems are needed (Unless they're by Seamus Heany).
And thanks green. Some bits are a bit clunky... I might rework it some time. But I'm happy with the overall imago.
And thanks green. Some bits are a bit clunky... I might rework it some time. But I'm happy with the overall imago.
Generation Y. I don't remember the First Gulf War, but do remember floppy disks.
Re: (Post Your) Incredible Poems (Here!)
Thanks. I just found one that I made for school as an extension of the Canterbury Tales, where we had to make our own tales. Deep Fried Pickles has one too, but I suspect he won't be sharing.
A Traveler was there, indeed.
He rode atop a silver steed.
He first came from an age gone by
Including the ages spoken by
The other pilgrims, the Knight, the Wife,
And all of the others he had seen in his life.
He was centuries old, but only appeared
To be middle aged with a shortish beard.
If nothing else, he loved to talk
About his life, and also to walk.
He knew the man whose tomb we were
Pilgriming to visit, and sure
He only met the man but once
And the man did call him a dunce,
But of him he talked, in between the tales,
And he talked of pleasures and of scares.
He told ablexxive tales sometimes and then
Would tell a simple one again.
He was not the greatest speaker, true.
But made up for that by what he knew.
He dressed in black and somber blue.
He had a long trenchcoat in lieu
Of a cope or cape; he also wore
Glasses which said he was not poor.
They were black and hid his eyes
Because he could not see otherwise.
His hair was neat and short and thick
And he was the master of many a trick.
He knew how to fight, and was tough and strong.
He could not sing but knew every song.
If you could meet him, if you knew
Him, I think you'd like him too.
Credit will go where credit is due.
Skip helped me with a rhyme or two.
A Traveler was there, indeed.
He rode atop a silver steed.
He first came from an age gone by
Including the ages spoken by
The other pilgrims, the Knight, the Wife,
And all of the others he had seen in his life.
He was centuries old, but only appeared
To be middle aged with a shortish beard.
If nothing else, he loved to talk
About his life, and also to walk.
He knew the man whose tomb we were
Pilgriming to visit, and sure
He only met the man but once
And the man did call him a dunce,
But of him he talked, in between the tales,
And he talked of pleasures and of scares.
He told ablexxive tales sometimes and then
Would tell a simple one again.
He was not the greatest speaker, true.
But made up for that by what he knew.
He dressed in black and somber blue.
He had a long trenchcoat in lieu
Of a cope or cape; he also wore
Glasses which said he was not poor.
They were black and hid his eyes
Because he could not see otherwise.
His hair was neat and short and thick
And he was the master of many a trick.
He knew how to fight, and was tough and strong.
He could not sing but knew every song.
If you could meet him, if you knew
Him, I think you'd like him too.
Credit will go where credit is due.
Skip helped me with a rhyme or two.
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Plasma Man
- Posts: 2035
- Joined: Tue Jan 15, 2008 9:27 am UTC
- Location: Northampton, Northampton, Northampton middle England.
Re: (Post Your) Incredible Poems (Here!)
Indifference
Flood of a thousand female faces
Streaming through my sight.
I try to lock my gaze with each
But they just walk on by.
A moment of hope, a tiny thrill
I try to meet their eyes.
But I'm a faceless blank to them,
Not loved and not despised.
The Morning After
Still too early, but I'm awake.
Limbs are burning, my head aches.
My stomach churns, my hands, they shake.
Aspirin allows my day to start.
But I need morphine for my heart.
Flood of a thousand female faces
Streaming through my sight.
I try to lock my gaze with each
But they just walk on by.
A moment of hope, a tiny thrill
I try to meet their eyes.
But I'm a faceless blank to them,
Not loved and not despised.
The Morning After
Still too early, but I'm awake.
Limbs are burning, my head aches.
My stomach churns, my hands, they shake.
Aspirin allows my day to start.
But I need morphine for my heart.
Please note that despite the lovely avatar Sungura gave me, I am not a medical doctor.
Possibly my proudest moment on the fora.
Possibly my proudest moment on the fora.
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xfactorinfinity
- Posts: 19
- Joined: Mon Jul 14, 2008 1:58 am UTC
Re: (Post Your) Incredible Poems (Here!)
interesting
the world is filled with
interesting people
with interesting lives
who climb interesting steeples
and bake interesting pies
and eat them on interesting plates
with interesting knives
on interesting dates
with interesting wives
whom interesting husbands
that wear interesting ties
marry in interesting chapels
underneath interesting skies
and all these interesting lovers
with interesting thoughts
lie togther under interesting covers
and talk of interesting plots
of interesting killings
of interesting kings
that led interesting kingdoms
that had interesting things
including interesting castles
with interesting courts
that saw such interesting hassles
inside of interesting sports
like interesting tennis
or interesting ball
or interesting skateboards
that do interesting stalls
on interesting grind rails
at interesting parks
that have interesting halfpipes
covered in interesting marks
that make up interesting words
and interesting lines
that form interesting birds
and interesting signs
that have interesting warnings
and interesting mines
and on interesting mornings
interesting people whine
that interesting lives are boring
interesting boring's where it's at
and interesting boring people always wear dull hats
and wear interesting tuxedoes
and interesting shoes
and interesting speedoes
to a crowd of interesting boos
that come from interesting morons
who believe interesting lies
because interesting truths
are interestingly, despised
because this interesting world
holds so much interesting stuff
but yet, to these interesting people
interesting's not enough
Finale
Ring the alarm, we're too civilized to shout,
Covert bombs scurry about.
Militant spies attempt to scout,
but their cowardly leader is signing out.
People singing Do-Re-Mi
To the tune of World War Three
Network's down overseas
And China holds all the keys
People hiding
inside the ground.
Three hundred people
No more around
The hunter strides in
With his hounds
Terrible news, we've been found.
Everybody's out of town
Try to call, repeat the pound
But no hope is in this hopeless mound
Conflict, soldier
Hammers down.
Quiet, nothing
making sound.
That was Sunday
Monday now?
Interaction forecasting,
stopping now.
the world is filled with
interesting people
with interesting lives
who climb interesting steeples
and bake interesting pies
and eat them on interesting plates
with interesting knives
on interesting dates
with interesting wives
whom interesting husbands
that wear interesting ties
marry in interesting chapels
underneath interesting skies
and all these interesting lovers
with interesting thoughts
lie togther under interesting covers
and talk of interesting plots
of interesting killings
of interesting kings
that led interesting kingdoms
that had interesting things
including interesting castles
with interesting courts
that saw such interesting hassles
inside of interesting sports
like interesting tennis
or interesting ball
or interesting skateboards
that do interesting stalls
on interesting grind rails
at interesting parks
that have interesting halfpipes
covered in interesting marks
that make up interesting words
and interesting lines
that form interesting birds
and interesting signs
that have interesting warnings
and interesting mines
and on interesting mornings
interesting people whine
that interesting lives are boring
interesting boring's where it's at
and interesting boring people always wear dull hats
and wear interesting tuxedoes
and interesting shoes
and interesting speedoes
to a crowd of interesting boos
that come from interesting morons
who believe interesting lies
because interesting truths
are interestingly, despised
because this interesting world
holds so much interesting stuff
but yet, to these interesting people
interesting's not enough
Finale
Ring the alarm, we're too civilized to shout,
Covert bombs scurry about.
Militant spies attempt to scout,
but their cowardly leader is signing out.
People singing Do-Re-Mi
To the tune of World War Three
Network's down overseas
And China holds all the keys
People hiding
inside the ground.
Three hundred people
No more around
The hunter strides in
With his hounds
Terrible news, we've been found.
Everybody's out of town
Try to call, repeat the pound
But no hope is in this hopeless mound
Conflict, soldier
Hammers down.
Quiet, nothing
making sound.
That was Sunday
Monday now?
Interaction forecasting,
stopping now.
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d33p
- Happy Fun Ball
- Posts: 1714
- Joined: Thu Oct 04, 2007 3:06 am UTC
- Location: La Maison de la Liberté
Re: (Post Your) Incredible Poems (Here!)
Spectacles
Unauthorised, the word elegantly tattooed
in bubbles above your doubly risen head. Twice,
it shook.
Once again you remaindered.
Our philosophy was nothing more than negatives
and decrescendos? Were evening stories less than
a meal on an electric stove and a dead man's couch?
Constrained, & inexact.
The tree entrenched in blacktop, outdoors it creaks and
whines and eventually it will die. The lair of comfortable
Christmas lights leftover, eventually it will die. But I'm
untruthful,
because on any given day, I can run.
Unauthorised, the word elegantly tattooed
in bubbles above your doubly risen head. Twice,
it shook.
Once again you remaindered.
Our philosophy was nothing more than negatives
and decrescendos? Were evening stories less than
a meal on an electric stove and a dead man's couch?
Constrained, & inexact.
The tree entrenched in blacktop, outdoors it creaks and
whines and eventually it will die. The lair of comfortable
Christmas lights leftover, eventually it will die. But I'm
untruthful,
because on any given day, I can run.
Parka wrote:I assume this is yours. I don't know anyone else who would put "kill a bear" on a list.
Re: (Post Your) Incredible Poems (Here!)
I just wrote a Limerick- It's really the first poem I wasn't forced to write in school. I hope you guys think it's satisfactory.
Learning to Limerick is hard
You always must be on your guard
They come out like crap
If you listen to rap
But then, if you do, you're a tard.
Learning to Limerick is hard
You always must be on your guard
They come out like crap
If you listen to rap
But then, if you do, you're a tard.
Life is the best toy anyone could ever give you, and I'm going to play with it until it breaks.
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Zhar the Mad
- Posts: 16
- Joined: Wed Feb 25, 2009 7:22 am UTC
- Location: Level 12 (Klamath falls, Oregon)
- Contact:
Re: (Post Your) Incredible Poems (Here!)
Sparkling Gumdrops!
Giant yummy lollipops!
Happy bunnies!
They all talk funny!
Roaring Thunder
Tears me asunder!
Raging lightning
Voices are fighting.
Cheery Carebears
and awsome care-stares.
Glowing candy
I'm feeling dandy.
Scorching Fire
Burns you with Ire.
Ice, Enimgnatic,
Cold and Sarcastic!
I feel then crouching in my mind.
I am a happy, carefree boy.
I look for help but I can't find
Come have some candy, don't be coy!
The solution I'm looking for.
Now I say a sad goodbye,
And drift back to the lands of yore....
I'd write a better one but it's five thirty a.m.
Giant yummy lollipops!
Happy bunnies!
They all talk funny!
Roaring Thunder
Tears me asunder!
Raging lightning
Voices are fighting.
Cheery Carebears
and awsome care-stares.
Glowing candy
I'm feeling dandy.
Scorching Fire
Burns you with Ire.
Ice, Enimgnatic,
Cold and Sarcastic!
I feel then crouching in my mind.
I am a happy, carefree boy.
I look for help but I can't find
Come have some candy, don't be coy!
The solution I'm looking for.
Now I say a sad goodbye,
And drift back to the lands of yore....
I'd write a better one but it's five thirty a.m.
Sometimes life makes you want to cry, and you should.
Other times it makes you want to laugh, and you shoud.
And still other times it makes a tiny demon show up and tell you to kill all your friends, and you should.
M...Maybe that's just me...Whoopsie.
Other times it makes you want to laugh, and you shoud.
And still other times it makes a tiny demon show up and tell you to kill all your friends, and you should.
M...Maybe that's just me...Whoopsie.
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Noble Uglyhead
- Posts: 3
- Joined: Sat Dec 27, 2008 12:38 am UTC
Re: (Post Your) Incredible Poems (Here!)
The Rainforest Waits
Suspense saturates the jungle, burdening the air
The earthly smell still lingers, gliding everywhere
Gentle, soothing musty green of lichens, lianas and the cool soft blue
Mossed rocks morph to pebbles pounded round, tranquil brown of hue
It’s the leaping, it’s the lapping of the clouding crystal streams
And in the clear cool shallows, primeval life and pondweed teams
Unhurried, subtle beetles scuttle in the undergrowth, rustling the leaf litter grot
(And the rainforest hangs heavy, waiting, waiting for what?)
God weeps hot tropical tears, while the heavens rip apart
From the booming echo of His wailing, myriad orchestral frenzies start
The rain the soaking drumming, the lightning crescendos
While the screaming wind conducts the Earth and air as foes
The towering turbulence is building, writhing air pressure compounding
The lightning, the thundering, the score of rain surrounding
The animals howl accompaniment, until instant interlude reigns
The droplets smash, clash gargantuan, then Heaven’s offering refrains
Now, presently, sudden stillness, the storms had its shot
(And the rainforest hangs heavy, waiting, waiting for what?)
Suspense saturates the jungle, burdening the air
The earthly smell still lingers, gliding everywhere
Gentle, soothing musty green of lichens, lianas and the cool soft blue
Mossed rocks morph to pebbles pounded round, tranquil brown of hue
It’s the leaping, it’s the lapping of the clouding crystal streams
And in the clear cool shallows, primeval life and pondweed teams
Unhurried, subtle beetles scuttle in the undergrowth, rustling the leaf litter grot
(And the rainforest hangs heavy, waiting, waiting for what?)
God weeps hot tropical tears, while the heavens rip apart
From the booming echo of His wailing, myriad orchestral frenzies start
The rain the soaking drumming, the lightning crescendos
While the screaming wind conducts the Earth and air as foes
The towering turbulence is building, writhing air pressure compounding
The lightning, the thundering, the score of rain surrounding
The animals howl accompaniment, until instant interlude reigns
The droplets smash, clash gargantuan, then Heaven’s offering refrains
Now, presently, sudden stillness, the storms had its shot
(And the rainforest hangs heavy, waiting, waiting for what?)
-
schumi_girl
- Human sacrifice for hire
- Posts: 598
- Joined: Thu Jul 12, 2007 4:16 am UTC
- Location: Under my doona, playing cubby houses.
Re: (Post Your) Incredible Poems (Here!)
I wrote this last night after watching the season four finale of House. *sniffle*
Say Goodbye.
I don’t think I can do it,
I can’t say goodbye.
All I can do is sit here,
Alone and watch you die.
Maybe I should have fought,
Harder than I did.
But in the end it wasn’t my call,
Your life placed its final bid.
We watched the last sunrise,
Had our last loving kiss.
But out of everything I had,
It’s your smile that I’ll miss.
It brightened my day,
And sparkled my night.
Whenever I saw it,
I knew it would be alright.
The smile is gone,
Your life slips away.
We put up a tough fight,
But we lost the final play.
Say Goodbye.
I don’t think I can do it,
I can’t say goodbye.
All I can do is sit here,
Alone and watch you die.
Maybe I should have fought,
Harder than I did.
But in the end it wasn’t my call,
Your life placed its final bid.
We watched the last sunrise,
Had our last loving kiss.
But out of everything I had,
It’s your smile that I’ll miss.
It brightened my day,
And sparkled my night.
Whenever I saw it,
I knew it would be alright.
The smile is gone,
Your life slips away.
We put up a tough fight,
But we lost the final play.
Adam: "This could be trouble."
Riley: "We'd better make a fort."
Adam: "I'll get some pillows."
Riley: "We'd better make a fort."
Adam: "I'll get some pillows."
Re: (Post Your) Incredible Poems (Here!)
"The nicest poem I've ever written"
Once and twice,
and after third,
the fourth is sure to come...
Then fifth and sixth come join the mix,
So many more than one!
Eight and Nine are rather fine,
Though Ten is even better,
Eleven stays away this time,
Because look! Here's a letter!
A is on a holiday,
His friend B came along,
C is not so fond of them,
But D is lots of fun.
E and F came in a jet,
which G thought quite excessive,
H and he and I can see,
that J is is here, Go get him!
Twelve meanwhile,
is on the Nile,
But thirteen's close at hand,
Fourteen, see, is not so keen,
and so, stays off the land.
Fifteen, sixteen, K and L,
and M and N as well,
have gotten lost amongst the moss,
seventeen's there as well.
O and eighteen,
for a ha'p'nny,
will bring you P and Q.
But R and S (Admit with guests)
have hidden nineteen's food!
T and U, and V you see,
have Twenty in observation,
but twenty-one and twenty-two,
are enroute now to waste'em!
twenty-three and W,
have had X round for tea.
But twenty-four made such a roar,
That, whoops! Poor Twenty-three!
Twenty-Five is not a spy,
but Twenty-Six just might be,
Y knows how, but don't look now!
Z is rather frightning...
These are all the friends I have, although..
there are a lot of them...
Maybe if you're feeling sad,
they'll come, and cheer you up again.
"GRRRRRRRRRROOOOOOOOWR!!!!"
(Translation: "Objection!")
Maseiken had the ball at the top of the key...
(Translation: "Objection!")
Maseiken had the ball at the top of the key...
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AMirthfulAffliction
- Posts: 1
- Joined: Mon Mar 30, 2009 3:57 pm UTC
Re: (Post Your) Incredible Poems (Here!)
Had a creative writing class last semester and it turned out to not be half bad. Here are the highlights (I would hope) of my portfolio from the semester.
---
Dead and/or Alive
By: Vineet Tiruvadi
---
Make up your mind in your tiny box
Before I swap you for a more cunning fox.
Life is life and death will follow
But claiming both is quite hollow
Your mystics are boring, get old quite fast
If I don't open your box, you surely won't last.
But until I see fit to end your tests
You'll have to revoke what Erwin suggests
Die, don't die, you'll see if I care
My lack of certainty is your only prayer.
Too late: I hear the click; poison flows.
One way or another, you'll find repose.
What's this, on the left. I see a slight hole!
A little crack, leaking your soul.
I cry out despair, my experiment's fallen flat.
Hope the store's open, I need a new cat.
---
Random Title
By: Vineet Tiruvadi
---
The world we live in is boring: a slab.
Three rights become a left, it's all quite drab.
Give me a world where jumps are rolls
from start to infinity, at worst a quick stroll
Conjure me a reality folding onto itself
three of me, standing, alone by myself
In a playground for mischief, a mind bending game
Without my operators, I'd never be the same
1. Act on this 2. curl it 3. make it four
It's not just a window, it's a one sided door
Step through it slowly, who knows what is up
not left, not round; inside is where you jump.
An i for a three and our reality is gone
Enjoy the blue sun, it still makes a good dawn
Endless lines of letters, numbers and Greek
Hardly make the treasures most of us seek
I can't help but wonder quite loud
Should irrational numbers make God glow proud?
Words are great, their beauty quite clear
But they can never duplicate that of a sphere
The goal, a purpose in turning all oblique
Despite its splendor, Literature doth reek.
A poem is a poem often gone awry
Give me some numbers and I'll show you who's sly
-
Apparently the forced rhyme got to some people in the class (including the professor) which is ironic considering I actually forced myself to rhyme these two out of some sense of obligation to have at least 10% of my portfolio be rhyming poetry.
8/9 of the people in the class thought 'Dead and/or Alive' was about a mad scientist who liked to kill cats. I suppose that's an accurate interpretation. When someone else in the class explained it to them half of them turned pissed off at me while the other half seemed to enjoy it.
---
Dead and/or Alive
By: Vineet Tiruvadi
---
Make up your mind in your tiny box
Before I swap you for a more cunning fox.
Life is life and death will follow
But claiming both is quite hollow
Your mystics are boring, get old quite fast
If I don't open your box, you surely won't last.
But until I see fit to end your tests
You'll have to revoke what Erwin suggests
Die, don't die, you'll see if I care
My lack of certainty is your only prayer.
Too late: I hear the click; poison flows.
One way or another, you'll find repose.
What's this, on the left. I see a slight hole!
A little crack, leaking your soul.
I cry out despair, my experiment's fallen flat.
Hope the store's open, I need a new cat.
---
Random Title
By: Vineet Tiruvadi
---
The world we live in is boring: a slab.
Three rights become a left, it's all quite drab.
Give me a world where jumps are rolls
from start to infinity, at worst a quick stroll
Conjure me a reality folding onto itself
three of me, standing, alone by myself
In a playground for mischief, a mind bending game
Without my operators, I'd never be the same
1. Act on this 2. curl it 3. make it four
It's not just a window, it's a one sided door
Step through it slowly, who knows what is up
not left, not round; inside is where you jump.
An i for a three and our reality is gone
Enjoy the blue sun, it still makes a good dawn
Endless lines of letters, numbers and Greek
Hardly make the treasures most of us seek
I can't help but wonder quite loud
Should irrational numbers make God glow proud?
Words are great, their beauty quite clear
But they can never duplicate that of a sphere
The goal, a purpose in turning all oblique
Despite its splendor, Literature doth reek.
A poem is a poem often gone awry
Give me some numbers and I'll show you who's sly
-
Apparently the forced rhyme got to some people in the class (including the professor) which is ironic considering I actually forced myself to rhyme these two out of some sense of obligation to have at least 10% of my portfolio be rhyming poetry.
8/9 of the people in the class thought 'Dead and/or Alive' was about a mad scientist who liked to kill cats. I suppose that's an accurate interpretation. When someone else in the class explained it to them half of them turned pissed off at me while the other half seemed to enjoy it.
-
Subliminity
- needs friends
- Posts: 260
- Joined: Wed Apr 01, 2009 1:29 am UTC
- Location: Yucaipa, California
- Contact:
Re: (Post Your) Incredible Poems (Here!)
Is prose allowed? I have not seen a thread for it.
-sigh- Yes that sucked, that was literally the first thing that I ever wrote.
Spoiler:
-sigh- Yes that sucked, that was literally the first thing that I ever wrote.
-
Terpsichore
- Posts: 27
- Joined: Thu Jan 29, 2009 10:14 pm UTC
- Location: Berkshire (England)
Re: (Post Your) Incredible Poems (Here!)
First post in here, I've lurked and appreciated for quite a while now, but I'm entering this poem for a competition and would appreciate some feedback (since the only answer I can get from colleagues is 'I don't know what to say to that!')...
Mourning Chorus
They lit the night, set the sky ablaze
tossed myrrh upon the fires of our distress;
soothed wounds pink flesh ne'er licked clean
ripped open and charred, new-black,
burning hands of burning minds.
Listen, for we will sing sweet lullabies,
to drive the dark away.
Dogs howled, and still, within the silence,
fireflies dance on the eastern hills.
Fallen snowdrops, frosted on the green grass
of the hall carpet, just a mess
the crushed white eddies,
bonechill of a winter city.
Look, we sing our lonely lovesongs
to keep all cares at bay.
For how long have I roamed these streets,
worn by my feet, scattered with my dust.
Now where's that little scruff dancing in the cobbles?
He's lying in the gutter, playing with the lead
bopping to a harsher music,
bloodied with the dead.
Can't you hear them calling in the dark?
They writ their cries in dried red ink.
Drenched with sea salt, sweat and cool air
beacons blazing as the quavering stoves
give forth clean water, gushed to gaping mouths
families pressed together like the flowers
'tween milk-white pages of the holy book.
Now, we sing like the moonlight will never touch
these roofs, these hands, these mouths again;
Empty voices, go!
Set sail for worlds of starry peaks, eternal flights
forever, infinite, without end
of our great love, that ebbs and flows
as the waters of the endless sea:
O, will we never reach those foreign shores?
Mourning Chorus
They lit the night, set the sky ablaze
tossed myrrh upon the fires of our distress;
soothed wounds pink flesh ne'er licked clean
ripped open and charred, new-black,
burning hands of burning minds.
Listen, for we will sing sweet lullabies,
to drive the dark away.
Dogs howled, and still, within the silence,
fireflies dance on the eastern hills.
Fallen snowdrops, frosted on the green grass
of the hall carpet, just a mess
the crushed white eddies,
bonechill of a winter city.
Look, we sing our lonely lovesongs
to keep all cares at bay.
For how long have I roamed these streets,
worn by my feet, scattered with my dust.
Now where's that little scruff dancing in the cobbles?
He's lying in the gutter, playing with the lead
bopping to a harsher music,
bloodied with the dead.
Can't you hear them calling in the dark?
They writ their cries in dried red ink.
Drenched with sea salt, sweat and cool air
beacons blazing as the quavering stoves
give forth clean water, gushed to gaping mouths
families pressed together like the flowers
'tween milk-white pages of the holy book.
Now, we sing like the moonlight will never touch
these roofs, these hands, these mouths again;
Empty voices, go!
Set sail for worlds of starry peaks, eternal flights
forever, infinite, without end
of our great love, that ebbs and flows
as the waters of the endless sea:
O, will we never reach those foreign shores?
-
Luthen
- Posts: 2021
- Joined: Thu Feb 21, 2008 6:42 am UTC
- Location: Dealing with xkcdian immigration
- Contact:
Re: (Post Your) Incredible Poems (Here!)
Dawn Start
Darkness, outside and in,
from which voices call
you out of slumber
You silence them
before they harshly resolve
The cosy quiet of
the sleeping house surrounds
your mind unwalled, ungrounded
as you go through
the daily routine, into
Half-light, rising gently
falls upon your cheeks
as you descend a hill
(Everest in the evenings)
You feel a cool wind
finishing the shower’s task
Duties try to worry weakly
through the heavy hush
you dismiss them
Colours awake with
Dawn, entering shyly
forms while you wait
You feel the day
the hint of heat in the air
(a taste of the hell ride home)
So subtle it can’t be felt
you can smell it (just)
The Alamein arrives
(nursing wounds from last night)
Wordless you watch as
Full light, rallies around
you sitting in sociable silence
Eyes wide, mouths closed
A quiet opposite to the day’s end
(a crush of stares, loathing, exile,
anxiety, fear and accidental guilt)
Outside the window, unheard,
an eucalypt drops a limb
Discordant, screeching voices enter
The moment breaks
Darkness, outside and in,
from which voices call
you out of slumber
You silence them
before they harshly resolve
The cosy quiet of
the sleeping house surrounds
your mind unwalled, ungrounded
as you go through
the daily routine, into
Half-light, rising gently
falls upon your cheeks
as you descend a hill
(Everest in the evenings)
You feel a cool wind
finishing the shower’s task
Duties try to worry weakly
through the heavy hush
you dismiss them
Colours awake with
Dawn, entering shyly
forms while you wait
You feel the day
the hint of heat in the air
(a taste of the hell ride home)
So subtle it can’t be felt
you can smell it (just)
The Alamein arrives
(nursing wounds from last night)
Wordless you watch as
Full light, rallies around
you sitting in sociable silence
Eyes wide, mouths closed
A quiet opposite to the day’s end
(a crush of stares, loathing, exile,
anxiety, fear and accidental guilt)
Outside the window, unheard,
an eucalypt drops a limb
Discordant, screeching voices enter
The moment breaks
My fancy new blog 
I am not a vampire! 
PM my location for a prize!*
rnew: ALL GLORY TO THE HYPNOAVATAR!
*Terms + conditions changeable
PM my location for a prize!*rnew: ALL GLORY TO THE HYPNOAVATAR!
*Terms + conditions changeable
-
maycelestia
- Posts: 36
- Joined: Sun Apr 05, 2009 1:22 pm UTC
Re: (Post Your) Incredible Poems (Here!)
Written in a stream-of-consciousness few minutes, so hardly technically remarkable, but the only poem I've written and liked.
Bougainvillea
You don't realise how beautiful it is
until they try to take you away.
Hands that bit at you
and made you cry
are gentler than the arms that offer rescue
and reprieve.
But that's insane,
to smile at sunset kisses
while thorny fears creep deep inside your mind,
much sweeter than the murmured words of comfort
come too late.
Too soon
the soothing well of solitude
is filled with hopeful promise of
a saviour,
when redemption's sting is worse than
the scars it seeks to heal.
A twisted lover
smirking and revelling in your storm
is missed more dearly than the specks of joy
which start their fall,
replacing showers of bitter tears
with waterfalls of solace.
Lost for too long
amongst the tangled scrum, arms and compulsions
that held you prisoner in their peat-dark grave,
too soon discovered
by probing sun and healing dawns.
Torn straight from Hell by hands of saviours,
already weeping
for the dainty lover's head
hung deep in blame.
Bougainvillea
You don't realise how beautiful it is
until they try to take you away.
Hands that bit at you
and made you cry
are gentler than the arms that offer rescue
and reprieve.
But that's insane,
to smile at sunset kisses
while thorny fears creep deep inside your mind,
much sweeter than the murmured words of comfort
come too late.
Too soon
the soothing well of solitude
is filled with hopeful promise of
a saviour,
when redemption's sting is worse than
the scars it seeks to heal.
A twisted lover
smirking and revelling in your storm
is missed more dearly than the specks of joy
which start their fall,
replacing showers of bitter tears
with waterfalls of solace.
Lost for too long
amongst the tangled scrum, arms and compulsions
that held you prisoner in their peat-dark grave,
too soon discovered
by probing sun and healing dawns.
Torn straight from Hell by hands of saviours,
already weeping
for the dainty lover's head
hung deep in blame.
-
clintonius
- Posts: 2755
- Joined: Wed May 07, 2008 9:13 pm UTC
- Location: Brooklyn
Re: (Post Your) Incredible Poems (Here!)
I think this one's finished, though I'd welcome feedback if anybody has some:
Nails of the Guitarrista
El Guitarrista, virtuoso,
brings many tears to the people,
every note strung perfectly
to every other, like skipping stones.
La mano izquierda glides
through flawless legato runs,
his right hand plucking to keep time
for the other, like skipping stones.
His percussive fingernails
dig flesh, ingrown, and drip blood
onto the strings that sprays away
with every vibrating note, like skipping stones.
Afterward, the guitarrista
sank his fingers into a chalice of wine.
“Sangria – my way,” he pronounced,
and watched blood splash into the glass.
Copper strings, copper blood, a quivering
metallic twinge filled the musty stone room
as the chalice drifted from chanting patron
to chanting patron, like a skipping stone.
Nails of the Guitarrista
El Guitarrista, virtuoso,
brings many tears to the people,
every note strung perfectly
to every other, like skipping stones.
La mano izquierda glides
through flawless legato runs,
his right hand plucking to keep time
for the other, like skipping stones.
His percussive fingernails
dig flesh, ingrown, and drip blood
onto the strings that sprays away
with every vibrating note, like skipping stones.
Afterward, the guitarrista
sank his fingers into a chalice of wine.
“Sangria – my way,” he pronounced,
and watched blood splash into the glass.
Copper strings, copper blood, a quivering
metallic twinge filled the musty stone room
as the chalice drifted from chanting patron
to chanting patron, like a skipping stone.
kira wrote:*piles up some limbs and blood and a couple hearts for good measure*
GUYS. I MADE A HUMAN.
*...pokes at it with a stick*
-
d33p
- Happy Fun Ball
- Posts: 1714
- Joined: Thu Oct 04, 2007 3:06 am UTC
- Location: La Maison de la Liberté
Re: (Post Your) Incredible Poems (Here!)
That's nice, clint - reminds me a bit of the old Gypsy-Andaluz cantes. Obviously the metre/scheme are different, but the feel is very similar. Bravo.
Parka wrote:I assume this is yours. I don't know anyone else who would put "kill a bear" on a list.
-
d33p
- Happy Fun Ball
- Posts: 1714
- Joined: Thu Oct 04, 2007 3:06 am UTC
- Location: La Maison de la Liberté
Re: (Post Your) Incredible Poems (Here!)
Dammit. A double post. Mods, please forgive me. I mean no harm.
Gunslinger (or, The Prodigal Returns)
Though it shimmers, it's not diamond -
it's just glass ensconced in tin,
resting on the hand of she who won
the saving of his sin.
Though it glistens, it's not pearls -
it's eyes rolled back into her head
as she dreams of sunken worlds
with kings of dirt and thrones of lead.
Though it glimmers, it's not crystal -
it's the child become a man;
in his fists, two wooden pistols
aimed for heart, and head, and hand.
Though it glitters, it's not silver -
it's a bullet made of bones
that flew quick and true and killed her
when the prodigal came home.
Gunslinger (or, The Prodigal Returns)
Though it shimmers, it's not diamond -
it's just glass ensconced in tin,
resting on the hand of she who won
the saving of his sin.
Though it glistens, it's not pearls -
it's eyes rolled back into her head
as she dreams of sunken worlds
with kings of dirt and thrones of lead.
Though it glimmers, it's not crystal -
it's the child become a man;
in his fists, two wooden pistols
aimed for heart, and head, and hand.
Though it glitters, it's not silver -
it's a bullet made of bones
that flew quick and true and killed her
when the prodigal came home.
Parka wrote:I assume this is yours. I don't know anyone else who would put "kill a bear" on a list.
-
Scaredcrow
- Posts: 189
- Joined: Sun Aug 03, 2008 7:50 pm UTC
- Location: Cambridge
- Contact:
Re: (Post Your) Incredible Poems (Here!)
d33p, very well done my good man.
Here is an attempt to follow...
Meditation II
I am not the person who is translucent
I am not lucid
You may see me
but light shines like the sun
hiding behind the moon
(It is my
thoughts that remain
You cannot see me
hiding in the rays behind the moon)
Here is an attempt to follow...
Meditation II
I am not the person who is translucent
I am not lucid
You may see me
but light shines like the sun
hiding behind the moon
(It is my
thoughts that remain
You cannot see me
hiding in the rays behind the moon)
jmrz wrote:You totally know she's a keeper when she offers to bail you out of jail.
sophyturtle wrote:ice cream sandwiches = happiness wrapped in paper
Nougat says: "scaredcrow: we need more men"
-
parkaboy
- who dwells between the borders of time
- Posts: 5539
- Joined: Sun Jun 17, 2007 1:17 am UTC
- Location: la-la land
- Contact:
Re: (Post Your) Incredible Poems (Here!)
Flying with Bukowski
I'm in a plane with my new friend
Charles Bukowski.
We don't know each other well, yet
but well enough
We get along.
Weird, because I am a female
and not attracted to
or turned on by him.
Nor am I a poet, of any worth anyway.
I don't drink enough to be called a social drinker even
I don't smoke.
I don't even have a typewriter.
But here I am with him in
Texas, DC, Buffalo, soon Boston...
we're both far from home
and his words are breaking my heart.
The things he says are horrible
and real.
More real than my reality.
He reminds me that I'm
a middle-class white
American.
In good health, young
pretty, I've been told
So what, exactly, he seems to say
between lines,
is my problem?
The descent begins and
my stomach turns.
I put Charles
Mr. Bukowski
in my bag so I don't spill my jolting coffee
or jolted insides, on his
well-worn face.
Touch down always makes me ill.
Its not the drop
or the shaking
or the deafening rumble,
not these entirely, but
its knowing that I'm in a new city
exploring and conquering
learning, gaining, losing
and I will still be unhappy
waiting in "that space"
because I always land with myself
still here.
But this time
I got off the plane with my new friend
Charlie B.
and a happy thought of the person who introduced us
and my stomach only turned
because there was
a
LOT
of turbulence coming down.
I'm in a plane with my new friend
Charles Bukowski.
We don't know each other well, yet
but well enough
We get along.
Weird, because I am a female
and not attracted to
or turned on by him.
Nor am I a poet, of any worth anyway.
I don't drink enough to be called a social drinker even
I don't smoke.
I don't even have a typewriter.
But here I am with him in
Texas, DC, Buffalo, soon Boston...
we're both far from home
and his words are breaking my heart.
The things he says are horrible
and real.
More real than my reality.
He reminds me that I'm
a middle-class white
American.
In good health, young
pretty, I've been told
So what, exactly, he seems to say
between lines,
is my problem?
The descent begins and
my stomach turns.
I put Charles
Mr. Bukowski
in my bag so I don't spill my jolting coffee
or jolted insides, on his
well-worn face.
Touch down always makes me ill.
Its not the drop
or the shaking
or the deafening rumble,
not these entirely, but
its knowing that I'm in a new city
exploring and conquering
learning, gaining, losing
and I will still be unhappy
waiting in "that space"
because I always land with myself
still here.
But this time
I got off the plane with my new friend
Charlie B.
and a happy thought of the person who introduced us
and my stomach only turned
because there was
a
LOT
of turbulence coming down.
Back in our day we had to walk uphill both ways through the snow on fire without feet to get fucking terrible relationship advice from disinterested and socially maladjusted nerds. Belial
-
scrt_rbt_agnt
- douche bag
- Posts: 865
- Joined: Thu Aug 16, 2007 8:48 pm UTC
- Location: the great secrets of space
- Contact:
Re: (Post Your) Incredible Poems (Here!)
edited this yesterday:
tentatively titled Meat Locker
i keep my mind in a plastic bag
wrinkled and frozen and mostly
in the meat department.
as for the meat, it rides into life rot
steady and fast over the last few years
like cowboys who've saddled
wild west horses;
healthy and swell
and with manes that flow darkly
sparking the interests of young women
everywhere.
i wish i were the cowboy
so they could
surround me
more often,
but recently i find they're too ghastly
too vacant too snakelike and coldhearted
too much like the meat department
where my mind still resides.
i thought things would change
that my mind would move around more
but i think it likes the air in there.
the crispness makes clarity much more exciting
it's still seeping thoughts and they drift along the floor
with the steamy moist air that comes in
and blows out
when i open the door.
i get footing in a place and try to fetch it out
but all of those drifting thoughts swirling, entangling
my muscles and structure, and my mouth corners
curling while my tongue is flailing about needless instructions
that undo my intentions while incompetence engulfs me.
my warmhearted words get scrambled to just utterings
and off goes my talkbox
lips locked
shitting cold words
i'm not funny
or meaningful
just wealthy
with probably
lies
or half-thought-out conceptual, illogical bullshit.
you're probably mostly
confused and bewildered.
you think i'm all full-of-it,
idiot, figure-of-manliness, obviously
trying to belittle the tiny things
that make up your psyche but if
you think you can honestly
handle the machinery, the doorway
to the meat room is unlocked for entry
but don't say my warnings
weren't clear enough
please.
tentatively titled Meat Locker
i keep my mind in a plastic bag
wrinkled and frozen and mostly
in the meat department.
as for the meat, it rides into life rot
steady and fast over the last few years
like cowboys who've saddled
wild west horses;
healthy and swell
and with manes that flow darkly
sparking the interests of young women
everywhere.
i wish i were the cowboy
so they could
surround me
more often,
but recently i find they're too ghastly
too vacant too snakelike and coldhearted
too much like the meat department
where my mind still resides.
i thought things would change
that my mind would move around more
but i think it likes the air in there.
the crispness makes clarity much more exciting
it's still seeping thoughts and they drift along the floor
with the steamy moist air that comes in
and blows out
when i open the door.
i get footing in a place and try to fetch it out
but all of those drifting thoughts swirling, entangling
my muscles and structure, and my mouth corners
curling while my tongue is flailing about needless instructions
that undo my intentions while incompetence engulfs me.
my warmhearted words get scrambled to just utterings
and off goes my talkbox
lips locked
shitting cold words
i'm not funny
or meaningful
just wealthy
with probably
lies
or half-thought-out conceptual, illogical bullshit.
you're probably mostly
confused and bewildered.
you think i'm all full-of-it,
idiot, figure-of-manliness, obviously
trying to belittle the tiny things
that make up your psyche but if
you think you can honestly
handle the machinery, the doorway
to the meat room is unlocked for entry
but don't say my warnings
weren't clear enough
please.
Re: (Post Your) Incredible Poems (Here!)
This one kind of sucks, but it's probably my best one and I wanted to share it.
Drowning
breathe in
get ready
no time to waste
open door
take the plunge
pressure
pounding on ears
ignore
swim
kick
quickly now
pump arms
losing time
losing breath can't stop
pounding pounding
must go
chest pounding
arms aching
legs kicking
head crushing
can't see
too dark
go anyway
must stop
lungs will burst
legs will break
arms will snap
head will crush
heart will stop
brain will die
please god
closer now
flicker of light
wont make it
so long world...
break the surface
feel the sun
feel relief
just made it
breathe out
Drowning
breathe in
get ready
no time to waste
open door
take the plunge
pressure
pounding on ears
ignore
swim
kick
quickly now
pump arms
losing time
losing breath can't stop
pounding pounding
must go
chest pounding
arms aching
legs kicking
head crushing
can't see
too dark
go anyway
must stop
lungs will burst
legs will break
arms will snap
head will crush
heart will stop
brain will die
please god
closer now
flicker of light
wont make it
so long world...
break the surface
feel the sun
feel relief
just made it
breathe out
Just FYI, the guy isn't avatar isn't me. But he seems pretty cool.
-
GraphiteGirl
- Alpha Male
- Posts: 1531
- Joined: Sat Mar 28, 2009 3:45 pm UTC
- Location: South-East Snakeville
Re: (Post Your) Incredible Poems (Here!)
First post in this thread, and it's gorram metapoetry. I apologise in advance for a sonnet about sonnets.
Quest
I left the lecture hall, entered the fray
And travelled wide beyond the campus edge
To gather to myself every cliché
That e’er made poet leap o’ertop a ledge :
Each “battered heart” and ev’ry longing sigh
Each wistful yearning lad and remote wench
And every turn of phrase or choice of verb
That reeked of lazy writing’s pungent stench
I sought the masters of the purple prose
I sought the o’erconvenient brevity
The lameness, coarseness and asymmetry
Weak metaphors and wordy similes
And o! How fortunate I was; I found
Them all in our workbook of poetry!
Quest
I left the lecture hall, entered the fray
And travelled wide beyond the campus edge
To gather to myself every cliché
That e’er made poet leap o’ertop a ledge :
Each “battered heart” and ev’ry longing sigh
Each wistful yearning lad and remote wench
And every turn of phrase or choice of verb
That reeked of lazy writing’s pungent stench
I sought the masters of the purple prose
I sought the o’erconvenient brevity
The lameness, coarseness and asymmetry
Weak metaphors and wordy similes
And o! How fortunate I was; I found
Them all in our workbook of poetry!
Sandry wrote:Man, my commitment to sparkle motion is waaaaay lower than you are intimating.
Re: (Post Your) Incredible Poems (Here!)
I wrote this after hearing my family teaching my nephew homophobia:
Some science fiction-ish poetry. I like to rhyme, which is kind of out of fashion, but I do it anyway. I also like to alliterate.
Spoiler:
Some science fiction-ish poetry. I like to rhyme, which is kind of out of fashion, but I do it anyway. I also like to alliterate.
Spoiler:
Re: (Post Your) Incredible Poems (Here!)
I wrote one that i want some peer editing for. . .
I wrote it in the middle of the night on a napkin whilst stargazing.
Written after a trip to Norway and not seeing the night time sky for two weeks.
Solstice
I wrote it in the middle of the night on a napkin whilst stargazing.
Written after a trip to Norway and not seeing the night time sky for two weeks.
Solstice
Spoiler:
Re: (Post Your) Incredible Poems (Here!)
Firsts in 4/4
Unhooked and strumming,
With rocks in the crowd pulses
to the zero melody, music stilled,
Fermata, sostenuto
Deluged, sweat pours through the cracks between hand and instrument.
Rewarded by their labours, the artist rises,
all poise and steel and grace and sinew
as the shrieking wave pounds forth.
In striking silence, a story unfolds.
A sacrament repeated for the thousandth time,
heartfelt as the stillness overtakes them all,
until the first chord is struck.
Unhooked and strumming,
With rocks in the crowd pulses
to the zero melody, music stilled,
Fermata, sostenuto
Deluged, sweat pours through the cracks between hand and instrument.
Rewarded by their labours, the artist rises,
all poise and steel and grace and sinew
as the shrieking wave pounds forth.
In striking silence, a story unfolds.
A sacrament repeated for the thousandth time,
heartfelt as the stillness overtakes them all,
until the first chord is struck.
Super Reality Television: The reason demons shouldn't be allowed to get bored. http://superrealitytv.com
Re: (Post Your) Incredible Poems (Here!)
First time posting on the fora!
Regre[t]ssion
Flowers of rue sting the skin under our tropical sun;
Sadly true, my stubborn heart just can't
Simply fool itself to memories shun
I'd to just leave and run ---
Yet bid adieu I didn't want
Regre[t]ssion
Flowers of rue sting the skin under our tropical sun;
Sadly true, my stubborn heart just can't
Simply fool itself to memories shun
I'd to just leave and run ---
Yet bid adieu I didn't want
Re: (Post Your) Incredible Poems (Here!)
This is probably the oldest poem I've written that I have on record.
Tonight at Six
a villanelle
Somehow, the Kids in Kenya have no shoes.
Global warming threatens all creation;
I heard, this morning, on the TV news.
So India's outsourcing all our work crews;
China's planning global domination--
And all the kids in Kenya need is shoes.
American Idol -- This week, singing Blues;
City Kids aren't getting educations.
Did you TiVo this morning's TV news?
A female president couldn't lose!
Come visit this historic slave plantation,
Although the kids in Kenya have no shoes.
Britney's boyfriend proposed but she refused.
It will buy the eyes of the whole nation.
T'was on this morning, on the TV news.
It is both cruel and accurate to say
Nobody wants all of their information.
And still the kids in Kenya have no shoes,
At least according to the TV news.
Tonight at Six
a villanelle
Somehow, the Kids in Kenya have no shoes.
Global warming threatens all creation;
I heard, this morning, on the TV news.
So India's outsourcing all our work crews;
China's planning global domination--
And all the kids in Kenya need is shoes.
American Idol -- This week, singing Blues;
City Kids aren't getting educations.
Did you TiVo this morning's TV news?
A female president couldn't lose!
Come visit this historic slave plantation,
Although the kids in Kenya have no shoes.
Britney's boyfriend proposed but she refused.
It will buy the eyes of the whole nation.
T'was on this morning, on the TV news.
It is both cruel and accurate to say
Nobody wants all of their information.
And still the kids in Kenya have no shoes,
At least according to the TV news.
kellsbells wrote:My other car is a plain, unmarked white van.
Re: (Post Your) Incredible Poems (Here!)
Blacktop wraps me in it's warm embrace.
I float gently in to expectation - of -
My helmet is 16 meters away,
Damn that dump truck.
I float gently in to expectation - of -
My helmet is 16 meters away,
Damn that dump truck.
-
Vicariously-Kaiser
- Posts: 17
- Joined: Tue Mar 31, 2009 7:50 pm UTC
- Location: Far far away.
Re: (Post Your) Incredible Poems (Here!)
Vanilla Tenderness
The swish of a deeper dark
brown, smells of vanilla on his
gentle hand.
His kiss of life born into me
but waiting for the morning,
for this night of perfect
perfections shall not last.
This debt may be repaid,
perhaps soon. But maybe
this night is a one-time gift.
A chance occurrence brought about
by the cruel twists of eternal fate.
Wake from these foul dreams
of illegal passions.
Plunder deep into the
real world where challenges oft
fall short and relevance
becomes distorted.
Some speak of weapons
murder, oppression,
genocide.
Glorifying ideals no man
should have. Hell.
Bent on the destruction
of that soft vanilla.
Tearing that deep brown
kiss ever so far away
to lands where I cannot taste it.
where the tongues and tones
twist in ways impossible
to my lips and ears.
Sail to me then.
Across narrow waters
and deep channels.
Away from the forced
oppression by your fathers.
You say you cannot read
my ever changing expressions
so instead you read those words I send.
Around the world and back to you.
In an instant. In my dreams...
that is my mission.
To fly and save you
from this worldly oppression.
Come deep into my dreams
bringing that gentle vanilla
tenderness close to my heart.
Leave this distorted world
of punishing lies and
prejudice.
I will soar far away
carrying your passion
on my wings.
You seek my helping hand.
You pray for my simple advice.
You dream of our far away world
deep within vanilla tenderness.
and here are some more
The swish of a deeper dark
brown, smells of vanilla on his
gentle hand.
His kiss of life born into me
but waiting for the morning,
for this night of perfect
perfections shall not last.
This debt may be repaid,
perhaps soon. But maybe
this night is a one-time gift.
A chance occurrence brought about
by the cruel twists of eternal fate.
Wake from these foul dreams
of illegal passions.
Plunder deep into the
real world where challenges oft
fall short and relevance
becomes distorted.
Some speak of weapons
murder, oppression,
genocide.
Glorifying ideals no man
should have. Hell.
Bent on the destruction
of that soft vanilla.
Tearing that deep brown
kiss ever so far away
to lands where I cannot taste it.
where the tongues and tones
twist in ways impossible
to my lips and ears.
Sail to me then.
Across narrow waters
and deep channels.
Away from the forced
oppression by your fathers.
You say you cannot read
my ever changing expressions
so instead you read those words I send.
Around the world and back to you.
In an instant. In my dreams...
that is my mission.
To fly and save you
from this worldly oppression.
Come deep into my dreams
bringing that gentle vanilla
tenderness close to my heart.
Leave this distorted world
of punishing lies and
prejudice.
I will soar far away
carrying your passion
on my wings.
You seek my helping hand.
You pray for my simple advice.
You dream of our far away world
deep within vanilla tenderness.
and here are some more
Re: (Post Your) Incredible Poems (Here!)
I really enjoyed this thread.
Here's a poem that won me a small contest and 30 dollars last week. I enjoy srs bizniss critique, so feel free to contact and talk to me about this. If you're so inclined.
Untitled
I
There isn't a precipice, an edge, a roaring current
that does not call to us
in a most natural way.
II
N.V. is not a sin.
It's thirty years of man
condensed
into an obituary
two initials long.
III
She wore a dark veil of silk,
and a little cross
a sign on a necklace
that she's been waiting for someone.
Here's a poem that won me a small contest and 30 dollars last week. I enjoy srs bizniss critique, so feel free to contact and talk to me about this. If you're so inclined.
Untitled
I
There isn't a precipice, an edge, a roaring current
that does not call to us
in a most natural way.
II
N.V. is not a sin.
It's thirty years of man
condensed
into an obituary
two initials long.
III
She wore a dark veil of silk,
and a little cross
a sign on a necklace
that she's been waiting for someone.
Don't be mean.
-
parkaboy
- who dwells between the borders of time
- Posts: 5539
- Joined: Sun Jun 17, 2007 1:17 am UTC
- Location: la-la land
- Contact:
Re: (Post Your) Incredible Poems (Here!)
Spirit and claws
teeth then pause
breath and smell
run and swell
feel the moon
silver cocoon
Hunt and chase
then face to face
bristle and bait
cower and wait
circle and stare
taste the air
on my back
one of the pack
tension past
howl at last
kin are we
Souls set free.
teeth then pause
breath and smell
run and swell
feel the moon
silver cocoon
Hunt and chase
then face to face
bristle and bait
cower and wait
circle and stare
taste the air
on my back
one of the pack
tension past
howl at last
kin are we
Souls set free.
Back in our day we had to walk uphill both ways through the snow on fire without feet to get fucking terrible relationship advice from disinterested and socially maladjusted nerds. Belial
-
Beautiful Sin
- Posts: 3
- Joined: Fri Aug 28, 2009 4:09 am UTC
- Location: Fort Collins CO
Re: (Post Your) Incredible Poems (Here!)
My attempt... don't think too badly of me
The Storm (tenative)
A storm is coming, and it threatens to tear me asunder,
O, come vile wind, and break my soul as I stand,
The tempest roars, and builds up towards another
Gale that sweeps the streets, and bodies brand,
Icy gust, and bitter coil,
The darkness closes in,
For on this world, my mortal toil,
Has come to this ghastly end,
For hope is lost as despair arrives,
And the storm draws ever near,
Striking this melancholy, newly derived,
I know I shall not give in to my fear,
For though the maelstrom crashes down,
I know that my spirit shall live on,
For to someone else I have passed my crown,
And my knowledge of things long gone,
The Storm (tenative)
A storm is coming, and it threatens to tear me asunder,
O, come vile wind, and break my soul as I stand,
The tempest roars, and builds up towards another
Gale that sweeps the streets, and bodies brand,
Icy gust, and bitter coil,
The darkness closes in,
For on this world, my mortal toil,
Has come to this ghastly end,
For hope is lost as despair arrives,
And the storm draws ever near,
Striking this melancholy, newly derived,
I know I shall not give in to my fear,
For though the maelstrom crashes down,
I know that my spirit shall live on,
For to someone else I have passed my crown,
And my knowledge of things long gone,
Re: (Post Your) Incredible Poems (Here!)
Okay... this is my first post, constructive criticism is always appreciated folks... Just make sure it is constructive please... also, I'm not quite sure that this is the right thread for this poem because I don't feel it is "incredible," anyways, let me know what you think and thanks for taking the time to read this 
...
Emotions
A simple definition of what makes us human...
Anger pushing us towards the breaking point.
Pushing, pushing towards the inevitable snap.
Causing a flood of what we have long kept hidden...
For fear of becoming prey.
The flood washes over everything,
Leaving destruction in its wake.
When the anger passes,
We are left standing...
Amidst the watery ruins empty and alone...
But what if the emotions never were?
If, contradictory to human nature,
We didn't feel at all.
When death's found all around us,
Both near and far away,
And we don't shed a tear,
We aren't shaken at all...
How can we tell we are human?
...Emotions
A simple definition of what makes us human...
Anger pushing us towards the breaking point.
Pushing, pushing towards the inevitable snap.
Causing a flood of what we have long kept hidden...
For fear of becoming prey.
The flood washes over everything,
Leaving destruction in its wake.
When the anger passes,
We are left standing...
Amidst the watery ruins empty and alone...
But what if the emotions never were?
If, contradictory to human nature,
We didn't feel at all.
When death's found all around us,
Both near and far away,
And we don't shed a tear,
We aren't shaken at all...
How can we tell we are human?
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