Poetry Thread
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I thought it'd be a good idea to start a poem thread, seeing all the stories are being published everywhere in this section.
poetry is a form of literary art as well, and plus the fact that i'm quite fond of reading beautiful poems, though personally i prefer chinese poems of its natural fluency and the sentimental passion etc.
recently i had the free time of composing a bit of literature while procrastinating, as you may see the stories that i wrote(a tale of melodies, the three phone calls) in assistance of Rakan AKA uzumaki101 in the other threads
so here're two short poems i wrote out of leisure, hope you may enjoy
here goes nothing:
poetry is a form of literary art as well, and plus the fact that i'm quite fond of reading beautiful poems, though personally i prefer chinese poems of its natural fluency and the sentimental passion etc.
recently i had the free time of composing a bit of literature while procrastinating, as you may see the stories that i wrote(a tale of melodies, the three phone calls) in assistance of Rakan AKA uzumaki101 in the other threads
so here're two short poems i wrote out of leisure, hope you may enjoy
here goes nothing:
Hero's Grave
Deep blood drench rusty sword
Peeking glory, none is his lord
Eyes gleaming with endless desire
Beyond the path of gods, his passion soars
Omitting empathy, he ventures alone
Dread ground be his berth, nature be home
Confide on his might whom fiercely fights
Of greatness and splendor, of fame and pride
Yet bit by bit, his vast strength fade
Cloaking under agony and anguish shades
Life and soul that courage gave
Upon the field of Fray, his mere body lays
Senseless worth appointed to hero's grave
Rape
Lone smile of a vivid rose
Silent blossom in which thee hold
Pledging with delight I await
Yet aging flux doth not betray
Timid grim sheaths below
Until thirst once driven me craze
Owing my lust, red pedals enclose
Shameless intent, the goddesses evoke
Though disgraces embark
Shall sinful tale of love be told
Deep blood drench rusty sword
Peeking glory, none is his lord
Eyes gleaming with endless desire
Beyond the path of gods, his passion soars
Omitting empathy, he ventures alone
Dread ground be his berth, nature be home
Confide on his might whom fiercely fights
Of greatness and splendor, of fame and pride
Yet bit by bit, his vast strength fade
Cloaking under agony and anguish shades
Life and soul that courage gave
Upon the field of Fray, his mere body lays
Senseless worth appointed to hero's grave
Rape
Lone smile of a vivid rose
Silent blossom in which thee hold
Pledging with delight I await
Yet aging flux doth not betray
Timid grim sheaths below
Until thirst once driven me craze
Owing my lust, red pedals enclose
Shameless intent, the goddesses evoke
Though disgraces embark
Shall sinful tale of love be told
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Very nice amigo! I don't see poetry writers very often anymore. Poetry, like short stories, seem to be a dying art. Those were two very good pieces.
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Walking down the twilight lane, my breath in the chill leaves my lips.
You are constantly on my mind, thinking of our little trips.
Knowing you can hear the voice in my heart, even though we are miles apart.
I remember the feel of your hair in my fingertips, slowly tracing my fingers down to your hips.
And as I tenderly kiss you, sweetness like the morning dew.
But I made a mistake, regretting every minute I'm awake.
I hurt you, my boo.
But one day I hope I can once again hold your hands, as my love for you expands.
I'm sorry, you are special, because you are my one and only.
You are constantly on my mind, thinking of our little trips.
Knowing you can hear the voice in my heart, even though we are miles apart.
I remember the feel of your hair in my fingertips, slowly tracing my fingers down to your hips.
And as I tenderly kiss you, sweetness like the morning dew.
But I made a mistake, regretting every minute I'm awake.
I hurt you, my boo.
But one day I hope I can once again hold your hands, as my love for you expands.
I'm sorry, you are special, because you are my one and only.
ok a poem i randomly made in 10 mins..
"openly accepts criticism"
hope to improve myself..
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written with my friend because of the boredom..
a poem of hate, its pretty random..
a poem of hate, its pretty random..
writing this poem sucks, and asparagus is yuck.
anxiety is a prick, while walking is a bitch.
I hate the douche, who gave me a Bush.
I'll send him to hell, on his ass a bell.
well screw you, you smell like poo.
i hate writing this, cuz it looks like piss.
but i have to keep going on, or to a gay salon.
so im sitting here, not wanting to be queer.
you are a whore, would u like to fk some more.
or are you a slut, who likes it in the butt.
well take your pick, cause you're a dick.
and so this is the poem of hate, written in the morning at fkn eight.
anxiety is a prick, while walking is a bitch.
I hate the douche, who gave me a Bush.
I'll send him to hell, on his ass a bell.
well screw you, you smell like poo.
i hate writing this, cuz it looks like piss.
but i have to keep going on, or to a gay salon.
so im sitting here, not wanting to be queer.
you are a whore, would u like to fk some more.
or are you a slut, who likes it in the butt.
well take your pick, cause you're a dick.
and so this is the poem of hate, written in the morning at fkn eight.
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gunmaster999 wrote...
Walking down the twilight lane, my breath in the chill leaves my lips.
You are constantly on my mind, thinking of our little trips.
Knowing you can hear the voice in my heart, even though we are miles apart.
I remember the feel of your hair in my fingertips, slowly tracing my fingers down to your hips.
And as I tenderly kiss you, sweetness like the morning dew.
But I made a mistake, regretting every minute I'm awake.
I hurt you, my boo.
But one day I hope I can once again hold your hands, as my love for you expands.
I'm sorry, you are special, because you are my one and only.
You are constantly on my mind, thinking of our little trips.
Knowing you can hear the voice in my heart, even though we are miles apart.
I remember the feel of your hair in my fingertips, slowly tracing my fingers down to your hips.
And as I tenderly kiss you, sweetness like the morning dew.
But I made a mistake, regretting every minute I'm awake.
I hurt you, my boo.
But one day I hope I can once again hold your hands, as my love for you expands.
I'm sorry, you are special, because you are my one and only.
ok a poem i randomly made in 10 mins..
"openly accepts criticism"
hope to improve myself..
not bad at all for 10 mins, i like it.
it rhymes very well, and its simplicity is just adorable. Though the tenses are a bit cluttered, but the overall essence of the poem is very-well framed.
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tenses are cluttered as in?? i am as lost as a psyduck..
well i would think the sequencing made no sense, as one thing doesnt lead to another..
well i would think the sequencing made no sense, as one thing doesnt lead to another..
1
The Thinker
I sit in a chair, in a room painted grey:
thinking of ways to get through the day.
My sons have left me a long time ago,
all that remain are the insects and rats marching to and fro.
I sit in a chair, it is the place I ponder;
rarely do I get the chance to let my mind wonder,
about war, about my children or about life;
or even the taxi that took away my beloved wife.
I sit in a chair, with children around me;
none of them are mine as far as my eyes can see:
as I thought of a common story,
about a soldier during his days of glory.
I sit in a chair, taking glances at the sky;
Pretending it was not the ceiling, but to whom do I lie?
I am hungry, and I have hardly slept a wink:
as all I can do, is think, and think; and think.
The Traveller
As I roamed the world, travelling from many different places:
I could not help but notice the many different faces.
From China, to India, all the way to Japan;
I have seen the many different ways of man.
I was off to the United Kingdom, and from there; to France.
I learnt of the food, the romance and the dance.
It was then I was off to Austria, then to Spain:
where it was true: the rain stayed mainly in the plane.
I had stopped in Italy, where I stopped in Rome,
but it was bad luck as I was stricken with thoughts of home!
So on I was, all the way to the calm parts of Africa;
Astounded to find people who didn't know the two sides of America!
And so, I took a plane all the way to Australia.
A country and a continent which was just below Asia!
And so here I am, back home- a new man:
who has travelled far and wide, across the land.
I sit in a chair, in a room painted grey:
thinking of ways to get through the day.
My sons have left me a long time ago,
all that remain are the insects and rats marching to and fro.
I sit in a chair, it is the place I ponder;
rarely do I get the chance to let my mind wonder,
about war, about my children or about life;
or even the taxi that took away my beloved wife.
I sit in a chair, with children around me;
none of them are mine as far as my eyes can see:
as I thought of a common story,
about a soldier during his days of glory.
I sit in a chair, taking glances at the sky;
Pretending it was not the ceiling, but to whom do I lie?
I am hungry, and I have hardly slept a wink:
as all I can do, is think, and think; and think.
The Traveller
As I roamed the world, travelling from many different places:
I could not help but notice the many different faces.
From China, to India, all the way to Japan;
I have seen the many different ways of man.
I was off to the United Kingdom, and from there; to France.
I learnt of the food, the romance and the dance.
It was then I was off to Austria, then to Spain:
where it was true: the rain stayed mainly in the plane.
I had stopped in Italy, where I stopped in Rome,
but it was bad luck as I was stricken with thoughts of home!
So on I was, all the way to the calm parts of Africa;
Astounded to find people who didn't know the two sides of America!
And so, I took a plane all the way to Australia.
A country and a continent which was just below Asia!
And so here I am, back home- a new man:
who has travelled far and wide, across the land.
I hoped you enjoyed it.
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The Common Scene in The Park.
I sit on a bench in the park;
and watch the little kids play until its dark,
on the swings, one the slide or in the sand box:
little soldiers pretending to defend Fort Knox.
I sit on a bench, watching young couples by the pond,
feeding the ducks, it makes me a little fond;
of the little girls, sitting in a group with their empty cups of tea,
while the little boys enjoy their game of pirates at sea.
I sit on a bench, enjoying the feel of a warm morning;
admiring the purple veils as I listen to the sparrows singing,
tis' be a time little girls come to pick their daises.
Oh, how they remind me of little gay fairies!
I sit on a bench, deep in the stillness of the night,
the rumours of ghost giving young and old a fright;
but this be a time for those eighteen and above,
as they hide behind the bushes; making sweet love.
I sit on a bench in the park;
and watch the little kids play until its dark,
on the swings, one the slide or in the sand box:
little soldiers pretending to defend Fort Knox.
I sit on a bench, watching young couples by the pond,
feeding the ducks, it makes me a little fond;
of the little girls, sitting in a group with their empty cups of tea,
while the little boys enjoy their game of pirates at sea.
I sit on a bench, enjoying the feel of a warm morning;
admiring the purple veils as I listen to the sparrows singing,
tis' be a time little girls come to pick their daises.
Oh, how they remind me of little gay fairies!
I sit on a bench, deep in the stillness of the night,
the rumours of ghost giving young and old a fright;
but this be a time for those eighteen and above,
as they hide behind the bushes; making sweet love.
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gunmaster999 wrote...
tenses are cluttered as in?? i am as lost as a psyduck..well i would think the sequencing made no sense, as one thing doesnt lead to another..
that's what i meant, where you first talk about how she's miles apart, yet you used the present tense for line about kissing, which seemed a bit odd in my opinion(i thought that was part of your memory of the past), then you revered back to how you regret about hurting her.
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A little something I wrote after my break up
It takes some time to know ones self
To really know the flaws
To have the courage to see ones faults
To really open the doors
I guess in my time I didnt care
what I had really become
To see that what I did and said
Would help me come undone
I knew I wasnt perfect
But at the beginning I was alright
But to have seen me change for the worse..
Was not a pretty sight
So on my own, I start to think
What to do with my time
and slowly I started to really see
What was really wrong inside
Im glad she actually left me,
It made me open my own eyes
And now I can start to get my life in order
And help me see straight through the lies
Im slowly getting better now
More calm and less focused to boast
Focusing more on the important things
Like those I care and love the most
Hopefully When Ive change once more
THis time it will be for the better
That when they see me on the streets
Im more nicer, calmer and just more different than ever
And another one
Titled...Repair
To think of How I loved you
How I never really cared
How I took for granted all the times
Whenever you were there
To say the least Im sorry
but Sorry is not enough
To cover all the things Ive never said
Like "Amy I love you" and all that stuff
So now Youve gone and left me
LEft me all alone
Taken away everything
All Ive loved and ever known
You cut off contact from me
You never answer your phone
Whenever I try calling you
The busy tone. Noones Home
MY friends all say oyu just need time
To have some space and alone
And HEre Ill be forever waiting
To one day call u my own
I promise Ill open up to you
MY secrets, pasts and fears
I promise to tell you what makes me laugh
and What breaks me down in tears
ANd If you plan not to come back
Forever Ill wait some more
And one day maybe one day
I can kiss you at the door
I guess what we need is time for ourselves
Too long is too much to bear
SO I guess what we need in time to think
and perhapos some time to repair.
It takes some time to know ones self
To really know the flaws
To have the courage to see ones faults
To really open the doors
I guess in my time I didnt care
what I had really become
To see that what I did and said
Would help me come undone
I knew I wasnt perfect
But at the beginning I was alright
But to have seen me change for the worse..
Was not a pretty sight
So on my own, I start to think
What to do with my time
and slowly I started to really see
What was really wrong inside
Im glad she actually left me,
It made me open my own eyes
And now I can start to get my life in order
And help me see straight through the lies
Im slowly getting better now
More calm and less focused to boast
Focusing more on the important things
Like those I care and love the most
Hopefully When Ive change once more
THis time it will be for the better
That when they see me on the streets
Im more nicer, calmer and just more different than ever
And another one
Titled...Repair
To think of How I loved you
How I never really cared
How I took for granted all the times
Whenever you were there
To say the least Im sorry
but Sorry is not enough
To cover all the things Ive never said
Like "Amy I love you" and all that stuff
So now Youve gone and left me
LEft me all alone
Taken away everything
All Ive loved and ever known
You cut off contact from me
You never answer your phone
Whenever I try calling you
The busy tone. Noones Home
MY friends all say oyu just need time
To have some space and alone
And HEre Ill be forever waiting
To one day call u my own
I promise Ill open up to you
MY secrets, pasts and fears
I promise to tell you what makes me laugh
and What breaks me down in tears
ANd If you plan not to come back
Forever Ill wait some more
And one day maybe one day
I can kiss you at the door
I guess what we need is time for ourselves
Too long is too much to bear
SO I guess what we need in time to think
and perhapos some time to repair.
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well i guess ill put it here
Alone
I am always alone
as i have always been
my world is colored gray
its a color thats left astray
a place where time has frozen
where everything is on a standstill
where it always rain
and everything were cold as steel
in the cold world i am in
that is full of nothingness
i can only ride on a train
whose destination is to the abyss
i am searching for a light
that has color and life
that could change my whole world tonight
if not i will end it all with a knife
if possible can you give me feedback on this? Thanks
IMO its kinda EMO
and i know im an amateur at this so please comment seriously
Alone
I am always alone
as i have always been
my world is colored gray
its a color thats left astray
a place where time has frozen
where everything is on a standstill
where it always rain
and everything were cold as steel
in the cold world i am in
that is full of nothingness
i can only ride on a train
whose destination is to the abyss
i am searching for a light
that has color and life
that could change my whole world tonight
if not i will end it all with a knife
if possible can you give me feedback on this? Thanks
IMO its kinda EMO
and i know im an amateur at this so please comment seriously
0
gunmaster999 wrote...
written with my friend because of the boredom..a poem of hate, its pretty random..
writing this poem sucks, and asparagus is yuck.
anxiety is a prick, while walking is a bitch.
I hate the douche, who gave me a Bush.
I'll send him to hell, on his ass a bell.
well screw you, you smell like poo.
i hate writing this, cuz it looks like piss.
but i have to keep going on, or to a gay salon.
so im sitting here, not wanting to be queer.
you are a whore, would u like to fk some more.
or are you a slut, who likes it in the butt.
well take your pick, cause you're a dick.
and so this is the poem of hate, written in the morning at fkn eight.
anxiety is a prick, while walking is a bitch.
I hate the douche, who gave me a Bush.
I'll send him to hell, on his ass a bell.
well screw you, you smell like poo.
i hate writing this, cuz it looks like piss.
but i have to keep going on, or to a gay salon.
so im sitting here, not wanting to be queer.
you are a whore, would u like to fk some more.
or are you a slut, who likes it in the butt.
well take your pick, cause you're a dick.
and so this is the poem of hate, written in the morning at fkn eight.
Great poem!! It may sucks but it hold great meaning in it (may be...)(but it is really sucks :P )(I'm kidding don't kill me :lol: )
1
I was bored this evening and just started typing, and it came out to be this. I thought it was alright, so i thought i would share it.
Feel free to criticize it so i can get better at this.
Feel free to criticize it so i can get better at this.
The Moral
Slowly crawling
Trying to find you
Moon is rising
Still I search
It never ends
Why did you go?
What could have made you do this?
Was it something I did?
What did I do to hurt you?
We had so much going for us.
So much to do,
So much to see,
So much to say.
Why would you leave me?
Hanging like the last leaf of autumn.
I’m slowly dying inside.
My heart has been sliced in two.
You were the one who completed me,
And now I'm complete no more.
Ever since you left me,
Ever since you left this earth,
I can’t help but feel
So alone.
I’m sorry for all the bad things I may have said,
For all the things I may have done to hurt you.
For all the trouble I put you through.
I want you I know
That when I said I love you,
That these feeling were true,
And always will be.
I’m sorry I never got to make it up to you.
Your death was such a shock to all of us.
But thanks to you I learned my lesson:
Not to play with a girl’s heart.
Slowly crawling
Trying to find you
Moon is rising
Still I search
It never ends
Why did you go?
What could have made you do this?
Was it something I did?
What did I do to hurt you?
We had so much going for us.
So much to do,
So much to see,
So much to say.
Why would you leave me?
Hanging like the last leaf of autumn.
I’m slowly dying inside.
My heart has been sliced in two.
You were the one who completed me,
And now I'm complete no more.
Ever since you left me,
Ever since you left this earth,
I can’t help but feel
So alone.
I’m sorry for all the bad things I may have said,
For all the things I may have done to hurt you.
For all the trouble I put you through.
I want you I know
That when I said I love you,
That these feeling were true,
And always will be.
I’m sorry I never got to make it up to you.
Your death was such a shock to all of us.
But thanks to you I learned my lesson:
Not to play with a girl’s heart.