Post Your Poetry

Shitty Poem With Made Up Words
By
Shitty Poet that Makes Up Words
Michael Gettings

Oh, inflarious tune
That pounds my skull
Into a finder powder mesh
Of powder bone skull

Sulk in the horizon
Watch the frambulant sun set
And think about the stoney
Stonie stones of the past

For once the stroms are thrumed
You will find practice in peace
And versimillitude
In peace

Lost at Sea

Far out into the fiercest sea
A vessel fights to stay.

Beating off the deadly winds,
The captain bends his knees and prays.

Abandoned by his once-good crew,
The man is left alone, askew

To combat the obstacles that lay ahead,
With no time to rest his weary head.

Whatever bit of soul is left within the wrinkled heart,
Has fled its owner’s premises, tearing him apart.

No longer aided by his friends,
Nor family as well

The captain stares at the abyss,
Its blackness mocking his.

by: Alessandro (myself)

This is my first time posting on this website, I hope you all enjoyed reading my poem. Just as a note, I don't write very often but when I do, I feel a tremendous tension released from me. The captain portrayed in the poem is (was, actually) myself.

Cool Poems you guys.

Re: Post Your Poetry

Poertry...my thing


Diary of a woman who killed her husband




I killed him
I killed him before he killed me
I ended his life before he ended mine
I took away the light he saw and gave him only darkness that he deserves
He screamed and begged but I didn't hesitate
Should I be merciful for a fucking bastard who destroyed my life?
I remember when he used to be full of charm
Oh, how I thought it would last
But then he changed, and his kisses became slaps
He made me bleed, and was never merciful with me
I remember how good it felt to see his soul leaving his body
How fear never left his eyes
How he tried to reason with me like I was crazy…
He was a damned son-of-a-bitch and deserved what he got
Freedom is so sweet, and revenge is sweeter
I smile and laugh when I remember myself crying in front of his family
Like a little good wife I appeared
Nobody questioned me, for it seemed that a little creature like me could never do what I did
I smile now for their lack of brains
Oh how freedom is sweet
I feel much gladder that I did what it did
God, if only you know how killing gives you limitless power
How your soul feeds by taking another one
You may think of me as crazy
But damn you I'm not
I was a desperate, abused woman
I killed the man who killed life in me
A man who promised me in the house of God that he shall cherish me
Shall I be merciful for a man who cheated and never loved me that way he promised that he would?
I took his life like he destroyed mine

Re: Post Your Poetry

This is a haiku that just flowed forth:

Your poetry sucks.
It makes me want to cry like
anal rape victim.

Re: Post Your Poetry

Lmao.

It makes me want to cry like anal rape victim.

Re: Post Your Poetry

moved to Lit.

Re: Post Your Poetry

I'll post these for a laugh. Back when I was mental and went around destroying what forums I could or annoying people I joined a teenhelp site, then was made mod of it, and so I wrote some poetry to try and get in more. Eventually I got banned from there 7 times (with the same account) but ohwell. Most of my poetry just took the piss out of them and tried to annoy them, but I did write a few real poems. Here is some of that poetry:

Re: Post Your Poetry

Pants

“The most important thing in communication is to hear what isn’t being said”
-Peter F. Drucker

Yesterday, I woke up with no pants on.

I brushed my teeth with no pants on,
and ate breakfast with no pants on.
I went to school with no pants on,
and recited the Pledge of Allegiance with no pants on.

I took a test with no pants on-
my legs felt cool as they brushed against the metal chair.
I ate my lunch with no pants on-
when I spilled some milk on my bare legs, I was effortlessly able to wipe it off.

I hi-fived my friend with no pants on,
and ate Jell-O with no pants on.
I got my mail with no pants on,
and kissed my dog with no pants on.

I played ultimate frisbee with no pants on-
it gave my legs excellent air flow.
I went to soccer practice with no pants on-
no more grass stains to wash out, mom!

No one stared,
and no one laughed.
No one thought it was peculiar,
peculiar that I had no pants on.

It felt good to break out of the mold-
it’s tough wearing pants for three straight months.
It felt right to break out of the mold-
after all, Punxsutawney didn’t see his shadow this year.

But why did no one stare,
and why did no one laugh?
But why did no one think it was peculiar,
peculiar that I had no pants on?
_ _ _

…What?
What’s that you say?

Oh.

Because I was wearing shorts.