First Poem

[SKG_Scintill]

For those who look at my profile, you'll have read this.
I didn't know there was a forum genre for this.

Wrote this when I had a breakdown at a music session.

===

Trashbin

Trashbin
Filthy trashbin
What did you do
to deserve so much
trash? bin
Clean yourself

Wrappers
Bits and bobs
I attract
the wrong crowds
Mounds

Trashbin
Lonely trashbin
In a house
By a bench
By a door
Thump
Find a friend

At night
A light
Bathroom
But nothing
for me
Tee-

-rashbin
Quiet trashbin
Silent trashbin





Bin
Fin

[Spenner]

The garbage bin. Butaful.

[SKG_Scintill]

Wrote a second one, reusing first thread

===

Lunch

Was sitting at a table.
Nothing in particular about the table.
Four legs and a top white from what was either paint or a sheet of cloth.
Pseudo-oriental styled restaurant with waiters and waitresses well aware of me acknowledging its pseudo-ness.
Ordered a coffee.
Didn't order grumpy and vile looks but got them anyway.
Moments later a cup, more resembling a bowl, apparently filled with coffee, descended on that tabletop with four legs underneath it.
I say "apparently filled" because my cup slash bowl contained boiling water with coffee grounds nestling at the bottom, forming a nice brown sludge that I would otherwise appreciate at the bottom of my coffee.
A plague of green specks also found a home in this bowl.
Sloshed the caboodle about a bit.
Left it for what it is.
Walked outside to the parents who were smoking on the patio.
Either tobacco or embarrassment, not sure which.
A windscreen just low enough not to give any protection.
Brother was there as well, but is of no importance to this story.
"The waitresses are all giving compliments and loving looks but none to you", one of them said.
You can decide who did.
Mother suddenly gained wide eyes.
"Look!", mother said, pointing at an approaching streetcar.
"My machine keeps beeping when the streetcar comes by".
Her device beeped.
A red sun rose.

[TheRapingDragon]

I like them. It's like asking the question 'what would a poem written by Jack Dee look like'.

[SKG_Scintill]

Slightly more conventional poem, lyrical

===

Flowerbed

We went to a flowerbed
a flowerbed with scent
yet your hand, away it went
here I stand, unspent

I went to a flowerbed
a flowerbed with scent
I stood there, hand in hand
it was never meant

Breezes blowing, breezes blowing
left here without you
breezes blowing, breezes blowing
will you take me too?

You went to a flowerbed
a flowerbed with scent
yet my hand, away it went
sent to wonderland

We went to a flowerbed
a flowerbed with scent
side by side, but different land
touching hands, we can't

Breezes blowing, breezes blowing
left here without you
breezes blowing, breezes blowing
will you take me too?

[Frank Munoz]

a quick rendition of your last poem.
pardon my singing, not exactly my style.

https://soundcloud.com/frank-munoz/the-flowerbed

changed some partials and rhythms in the melody
was gonna make some art but lazy

Instrumental for those who sing better
https://soundcloud.com/frank-munoz/the-flowerbed-instrumental

[SKG_Scintill]

So damn emo

===

Growth

Faces laced in cloth
Carrying the load
Crushing footsteps
Prints in the dust
Barren white road
Leave, they must

Hear the groan
Of the rope
Here they hang
Past selves

Left and forgotten
Unwanted ways
Pierced the mouth
Stitched the skin
Hollow gaze
Husks as thin

Hear the groan
Of the rope
Here they hang
Past selves

Thousands in line
Next is mine