Do You Write Poetry?

[Malfor]

Some really great poems guys/girls!!! Here are some that I have:

This one is untitled:

Dark clouds blot the sky
And the Earth is drenched in rain
The crash of thunder feels the air
So no one can hear my screams of disdain

Lightning srikes nearby
Leaving me with a vision of you
The wretched cold clings to me
And I dream of what I thought I knew

Below me the soiled Earth
Pierces my bare feet as I stand
Reminding me of how easily
You pierce my hearth with the touch of your hand

Gothic:

To me everything is black
As black as night
I have never seen the sun
Never known it's light
All the clothes that I wear
Are bleak and dark
The makeup I wear
Covers up my marks
I hope one day
To feel what you do
Perhaps then
I will see the light too

[Flag Pole Sitta]

yay poetry thread!!!

This Girl in the Mirror

There is this girl
in the mirror,
She is loud and crazy,
and, frankly,
Quite embarrassing.
This girl in the mirror,
They say we are quite alike,
But I don't see it.
I am shy,
Quite and mousey,
and very, very gentle.
She is bold,
In everyone's face,
and very, very violent.
This girl in the mirror,
We are nothing alike,
She and I.

[Flag Pole Sitta]

here is one of my faveriote poems, even though it's pretty emo-tastic

And

My hands are dry,
dry and cracking,
I reach for some lotion,
and,

there is nothing.
A pit filled
with eyes,
and shining razor blades.
I fall
and,

Catch myself,
by a hair,
a fingers breadth,
a shot put throw,
I catch myself,
and,

I
Dance Delicately
on bloody feet,
the razor edge,
between,
reality and
insanity.

[tyrant Lizard]

The Black Hound.

the black hound is coming, I can hear its baying cry
draw close your cloak and cross yourself
a shadow draws across the land
the black hound is coming, time to roll the die

the black hound is coming, chaos in its wake
offer up a prayer for all that you hold dear
fall upon your knees
the black hound is coming, its purpose just to take

the black hound is coming, despair is its gaze
to ravage and blight
to ruin and destroy
the black hound is coming, setting homes ablaze

the black hound is coming, leaping like a dancer
with eyes of blood and teeth so sharp
a pelt as black as night
the black hound is coming, answering to cancer.

[daisybee]

The Last Conversation


Do you understand Sir?
What's happening today?
Do you understand we're here
To take your life away?

The deed is done, it's over
No don't look, just have a drink-
That bottle's nearly empty
Crack another, what d'you think?

I'm feeling kinda groggy
Achy, sore, and damn confused.
How d'y'all get inside my house?
The doors locked, ain't been used.

We don't need doors or windows Sir
We travel in the blood
I'm speaking from inside your head
I'm wading in a flood

Of all your hate and wanting
All that rage you've held in check-
Well we've arrived to free you
Please don't glance towards the deck..

Jesus Christ! Who did this?
Man crumples to the floor
I'm sorry if it's shocking Sir,
Were you expecting more?

Me? I didn't want nuthin'
Oh my wife, my darlin girl-
Forgive me, but you did it Sir
I watched it all unfurl

You drank all day and night Sir
Got home real late 'bout two-
Dragged her from her bed you did,
Said she'd been untrue.

Why the hell were you just watchin'?
Why the hell d'you let her die?
Sir, we aren't your keeper-
We are your soul, oh please don't cry.

I can't believe I did this..
Are you sure that is was me?
Don't ask for proof I beg you Sir
D'you really want to see?

If I show you your actions,
Let you see your hands, her blood
Then there is no saving you-
You'll drown here in this flood.

Tell me why I did it son,
Explain this horror please-
I knew I shouldna had that beer
That last one took my knees

I shouldna drank on anger
Shoulda come straight home from work
Oh God I've killed my baby
I musta gone beserk

Indeed you really did Sir
And now your soul is damned
We're here just for the clean up-
Not to scold or reprimand

What'll happen now then?
I can't think, what should I do?
I suggest you close your eyes now Sir
They're coming back for you.

You called the cops? well..good
I need to tell them what I've done
No need for explanations Sir
You're still holding the gun

I think they'll work it out just fine
What happened in this house
A man, a gun, some liquor-
Killed himself after his spouse.

Killed himself...?
Looks down
.
.
.
Oh...

Good luck Sir, you're going to need it.



I know it's long, but I'm quite proud of it.

[ragnarblackmane]

Ah, a fine conversing between a dead man and death himself.
Seems like a humorous and tongue-in-cheek look at death, which I rather enjoy.

It's very good, except one thing I think you should alter:

I think they'll work it out just fine
What happened in this house
A man, a gun, some liquor-
Killed himself after his spouse.

To be honest, this doesn't flow very well.
Now, which do you think flows better?

I think they'll work it out just fine
What happened in this house
A man, a gun, some liquor-
Killed himself after his spouse.


I think they'll work it out just fine
What happened in this very house
A man, a gun, some liquor-
Killed himself and then his spouse.

Just some suggestions.

[daisybee]

thanks-that line did bug me. Yours has a better beat, I'll have it!!

[daisybee]

Originally Posted by daisybee

thanks-that line did bug me. Yours has a better beat, I'll have it!!

Okay apologies for double post-but I now recall why I didn't switch "after" in the first place...because it wouldn't really be possible for him to kill himself first, so after was the only option. Although and then sounds nicer I agree!

[ragnarblackmane]

D'oh!

I didn't notice that!

[ragnarblackmane]

This poem I wrote two days ago. It isn't quite finished and was meant only to be humorous.


John Doe

John Doe was by all accounts an average man,
with nary a friend but one sure man called Dan.

This man befriended, was an honest schmoe,
but not as honest as his other best friend Joe.
Now, Joe was very honest and he never lied,
no matter what he'd said or even how he tried.

But life gave things other than friends to poor ol' John Doe,
and one happened to be an enemy, by the name of Moe.

Moe's life was filled with things both cheery and dreary,
having so much time to himself, but of it growing weary,
no wife to love, no kids to raise, no people to keep,
unlucky enough for his roof to have a dreadful leak.

Moe was a dishonest man, filled of deceit,
a fellow who fancied himself to be an elite.
He lied to his neighbours, just to be rude,
he cursed them angrily, just to be crude.

John was a friendly man, as was his own son Stan,
both just as friendly as their wife and mother, Anne.

Now Anne was a woman of means quite modest,
she growing up in a family that was most oddest.
Her uncle, a strange old man by the name of Tom,
was queer in the choices he made sound so calm.
He greeted her good day when the sun had gone,
told her good night when the moon had moved on.

Tom's wife Sarah, aware of this plight,
let his behaviors go, for fear of a fight.
Tom wasn't a violent man, not one bit,
but when in a fight, he was sure to spit.

[dustinzgirl]

Yeah, these are kind of I dunno, corny. But what the heck.

Clock


Some felt as though the day had never ended
others, simply tied their lunch boxes closed
and walked the silent, exhausted mile home.



One tread lightly as his feet refused to lift
another, stomped with crazed look in his eyes
but neither spoke as they crossed the road.



Few looked in their worn hungry alone faces
even fewer, thought they might have cared
so nobody knew when the brothers died quietly



Except the time clock,
who never really cared anyways.


Kiss Me.


Its accidentally a tendency
of this unfamiliar territory
that this is already extraordinary
caught in ecstasy without warranty
and incidentally this journey
leaves me purposely happy
kiss me consecutively in a cemetery
become our own controversy
will we be this fiery at forty? Ninety?
If we turn and today is yesterday?
When this reality becomes a memory?
When we're suddenly occasionally ordinary?
It’s undoubtedly just a theory
that you're evidently necessary
and not immediately temporary
or even occasionally ordinary
but some suddenly lovely divinity
an especially irresistible infinity
when you immediately kiss me.

[daisybee]

Hey, all good stuff! I like this thread!

Kiss me-loved it, my kind of writing, all rhyming and full speed ahead.

John Doe made me chuckle-maybe a bit more polsih to nail down the rhythm? Coupla places just slipped, but I read quite fast, so I don't always read the intended way.

Heres that one I thought a few may like-it's anonymous I think.

Abort, Retry, Ignore?


Once upon a midnight dreary, fingers cramped and vision bleary,
System manuals piled high and wasted paper on the floor,
Longing for the warmth of bed sheets, still I sat there doing
spreadsheets.
Having reached the bottom line I took a floppy from the drawer,
I then invoked the SAVE command and waited for the disk to store,
Only this and nothing more.

Deep into the monitor peering, long I sat there wond'ring, fearing,
Doubting, while the disk kept churning, turning yet to churn some more.
But the silence was unbroken, and the stillness gave no token.
"Save!" I said, "You cursed mother! Save my data from before!"
One thing did the phosphors answer, only this and nothing more,
Just, "Abort, Retry, Ignore?"

Was this some occult illusion, some maniacal intrusion?
These were choices undesired, ones I'd never faced before.
Carefully I weighed the choices as the disk made impish noises.
The cursor flashed, insistent, waiting, baiting me to type some more.
Clearly I must press a key, choosing one and nothing more,
From "Abort, Retry, Ignore?"

With fingers pale and trembling, slowly toward the keyboard bending,
Longing for a happy ending, hoping all would be restored,
Praying for some guarantee, timidly, I pressed a key.
But on the screen there still persisted words appearing as before.
Ghastly grim they blinked and taunted, haunted, as my patience wore,
Saying "Abort, Retry, Ignore?"

I tried to catch the chips off guard, and pressed again, but twice as
hard.
I pleaded with the cursed machine: I begged and cried and then I swore.
Now in mighty desperation, trying random combinations,
Still there came the incantation, just as senseless as before.
Cursor blinking, angrily winking, blinking nonsense as before.
Reading, "Abort, Retry, Ignore?"

There I sat, distraught, exhausted, by my own machine accosted.
Getting up I turned away and paced across the office floor.
And then I saw a dreadful sight: a lightning bolt cut through the night.
A gasp of horror overtook me, shook me to my very core.
The lightning zapped my previous data, lost and gone forevermore.
Not even, "Abort, Retry, Ignore?"

To this day I do not know the place to which lost data go.
What demonic nether world us wrought where lost data will be stored,
Beyond the reach of mortal souls, beyond the ether, into black holes?
But sure as there's C, Pascal, Lotus, Ashton-Tate and more,
You will be one day be left to wander, lost on some Plutonian shore,
Pleading, "Abort, Retry, Ignore?"

[daisybee]

Free


Toes clutch rock
Rain stings my skin
An amber sky
Absolves all sin.
A gentle rumble
Fills the sky
And arms stretch out
As if to fly.
Waves crash the shore
So far below
And finally
I'm letting go.
Damp green earth
Smells oh so sweet,
Warm and soft
Beneath bare feet,
Raindrops splash
Against my face,
I smile- lost in
Lifes embrace.
The air and sea,
That endless view
Speak of all
That's good and true,
Of life reborn,
Some how, some way,
Upon this spinning
Rock each day.

[Sir Jak Wolfenden]

The Den
(The Journal Of Sir Jak Wolfenden)

Every where I can be
I exist within me
I have only the moons beauty
Left here inside to save me
This Lighthouse calls out to you
I ask for one last change
In the stars I write our destiny
Intertwind in mind is our fate
Belive in me
And you will see
The truth
the real
the me

[Deathpool]

I'll bet you mine is more insignificant.