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Poetry
There was a thread previously, suggesting that we have a creative arts thread, and since then we've have a story writing game thread, so i figured why not start a poetry thread? Im sure there's a heap of excelent poets out there. If you have a poem that you've written, or one that you particularly like that someone else has written, post it, but if you post a poem that somebody else has written, please dont try and take the credit for it, make sure we know who wrote it, or atleast that somebody else wrote it. You can give an expanlation of the poem if you wish, and you can comment on other peoples poetry. Try and keep it nice, and remember that poems dont HAVE to rhyme. Post as many poems as you like.
Here's two of mine, i wrote them yesterday. Living Nightmare People say, "You know your life is good, When you dont want to go to sleep, Because your life is better than a dream!" But what happens when you dont want to wake up, Because your life is worse than a nightmare? I mean, With society the way is is, Who'd want to wake up? Individualism a thing of the past, All thats left is sheep, Mindless sheep. Supre junkies and work-a-holics. Kids are taught to look after number one, And ignore the needs of others. Teenagers cant be disciplined, For fear of a massive law suit! So in the end, There is no point, In waking up each day, When a simple nightmare sums it up, Thats all i have to say. Growing Up Somebody once told me, "Growing up is fun!" I'd like to know who told them that, I'd like to tell them to run! Growing up is full of pain, Of lies deceit and hate! Growing up's a nightmare, A nightmare i just can't take! What happend to individuality? What happened to being yourself? I want to have my own opinion, I dont want to think like someone else! They want us to be mindless drones, Those power hungry dictators, They want us to be mindless, We're easier to control! So fight the rising trends, Crush the stereotypes and labels, Stand up for what you believe in, And tear the dictators down! |
RE: Poetry
I have one.
EMO My life is spiraling emo emo emo kill me now omg emo emo emo im like dead emo emo emo my life sucks emo emo emo liek omg i gotta go to school ;-; ~fin |
Here's a really good poem by a really good poet:
Enter Without So Much As Knocking Memento, homo, quia pulvis es, et in pulverem revertis Blink, Blink. HOSPITAL. SILENCE. Ten days old, carried in the front door in his mother's arms, first thing he heard was Bobby Dazzler on channels 7: Hello, hello hello all you lucky people and he really was lucky because it didnt mean a thing to him then... A year or two to settle in and get acquainted with the set-up; like every other well-equipped smoothly-run household, this included one economy-size Mum, one Anthony Squires- Coolstream-Summerweight Dad, along with two other kids straight off the Junior Department rack. When mum won the Luck's-A-Fortch Tricky-Tune Quiz she took him shopping in the good-as-new station-wagon (495 pound dep. at Reno's) Beep, beep. WALK. DON'T RUN. TURN LEFT. NO PARKING. WAIT HERE. NO SMOKING. KEEP CLEAR/OUT/OFF GRASS. NO BREATHING EXCEPT BY ORDER. BEWARE OF THIS. WATCH OUT FOR THAT. My God (beep) the congestion here just gets (beep) worse every day, now what the (beep beep) does that idiot think he's doing (beep beep and BEEP) However, what he enjoyed most of all was when they went to the late show at the local drive-in, on a clear night and he could see (beyonf the fifty-foot screen where giant faces forever snarled screamed or made incomprehensible and monsterous love) a pure unadulterated fringe of sky, littered with stars no one had got around to fixing up yet; he'd watch them circling about in luminous groups like kids at the circus who never go quite close enough to the elephant to get kicked. Anyway, pretty soon he was old enough to be realistic like every other godless money-hungry back-stabbing miserable so-and-so, and then it was goodbye stars and the soft cry in the corner when no one was looking because Im telling you straight, Jim, it's Number One every time for this chicken, hit wherever you see a head and kick whoever's down, well thanks for a lovely evening Clare, its good to get away from it all once in a while, i mean it's a real battle all the way and a man can't help but feel a little soiled, himself, at times, you know what i mean? Now take it easy on those curves, Alice, for God's sake, I've had enough for one night, with that Clare Jessup, Hey, ease up, will you, watch it- Probity & Sons, Mortitions, did a really first-class job on his face (everyone was pleased) even adding a healthy tan he'd never had, living, gave him back for keeps the old automatic smile with nothing behind it, winding the whole show up with a nice ride out to the underground metropoli: permanent residentials, no parking tickets, no taximeters ticking, no Bobby Dazzlers here, no downpayments, nobody brieving over halitosis flat feet shrinking gums falling hair. Siz feet down nobody interested. Blink, blink. CEMETERY. Silence. Bruce Dawe |
If you dont want to post a poem, you can always post your opinions on other people's poems. If you dont write poems, why dont you post a poem that you've done in school that you think is good, or even that you dont like, then say what you think is so bad about it.
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I guess nobody is interested in poetry. Oh well.
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emosong.ytmnd
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What on earth is wrong with being emotional? That being what emo means and all. Almost every single person has been/will be emo at some stage in their lives! That was completely off topic but oh well...im just sick of people ripping other people off for being "emo". Your just being really stereotypical.
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They're right, let's just all stop being human.
It's socially required of you that you contain the emotional equivalent of a cactus. =/ |
I write poetry and songs, but i don't think i'm good. This was my first song/poem.
Blinded By Tears As I sit in my room As cold as my heart I think to myself What made you part? Now I’m miles away The only place I’ve ever known Where my tears will bring no life Along this path I walk alone I am now blinded by tears My once glowing eyes dejected My heart is now cold and black Feeling once again rejected In the corner of my mind I’m trapped within my own head With my acid tears burning my skin I’m wishing that I would just be dead My heart pounds louder every second My hand pulled closer to a knife And as I pick up the blade I wonder if I should give up my life As the blade shakes in my hand I slip it across my skin As a ruby line forms I realized I let you win Giving up my heart and soul Making the trail with crimson and tears I feel chains bind around me The last scream of my life, nobody hears When I rest forevermore My heart is much like my soul Cold, dead and turned to ice My final words lost in a black hole This black hole is my heart Never to be alive again and walk Glad now that I am dead I’m glad nothing here can talk I’m on an endless journey Pit of fire on my left side Then I see a bright light On my right side spread out wide I’m realizing that I’m on my way To either Heaven or Hell I close my eyes and walk down a path Feeling a blazing heat, I bid my final farewell |
That was actually pretty good for a suicide poem. Usually I groan every time I see one.
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RE: Poetry
I wrote this poem last year:
It's about me dreaming, looking at a sniper kill his target. Hope you like it =D SNIPER Patiently, he waits for her To her ultimate perfection He knows her every move He knows everyone she talks to, and begs to. He is indeed the one who would never Let you out of his site He waits and watchs for her to arrive Hope, makes him feel alive His nerves tingle in anticipation as he imagines sweet annihilation clocks chime sensing your doom. The rifle he raised very soon she would arrive looks her through the night He must breathe, his chest feels so tight excitement turning his mouth dry like the sand laying in the desert He sees her and takes his aim carefully He is ready to extinguish the flame "BANG" a single crack startles birds to air for their intrusion he wouldn’t care He watched her as she pales He can hear the sudden wind Arriving from the west That swept her soul away The wind vanished, and the wing of the angel Disappeared In a sudden void there is no sound, then her body tumbles to the ground The noise invades my peaceful sleep as the passers-by start to scream and cower away in absolute fear. He fears, he fears. But he knows! He knows he didn't miss For red stains her dress One large congealing mess of what was her fine Brain That held the knowledge of the past and present It seems that he doesn't feel any pleasure For the look on his face gave in away memories for him to treasure of not seeing into his own soul Cannot quench this burning rage still trapped inside this cage what will be next He wonders Into earth she would be buried In the sand of the great berries And hearing the great doors of Eden Shout "You have done well my child" |
After reading mickey's poem, I decided to make up an haiku on the spot.
Sniper He lies far away Watching as his target comes And pulls the trigger. Does anybody know why people still like haiku? I'm not sure about the reason myself, so I'd like to hear what you think is the reason... |
Because they're so ridiculously easy to make.
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Hm, I used to write poetry... I have books full, but mine were always fun, and vibrant.. I had a few upsetting ones, but they weren't... murder or suicide.. they were more like sad stories. If I can find some, I'll post em.
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They are all so good! There's a site, www.poetry.com , if you post a poem of yours on there, there's a huge chance you'll get it published. Im actually getting one of my earlier poems that i wrote 2 years ago published. I was really shocked when i found out because i didnt think it was really all that good. And just a quick note, you dont HAVE to post sad/dark poems, skooter, if you have happy poems, feel free to post them, i'm just no good at writing happy ones, i guess i started the thread off on the wrong foot in that respect. Sorry about that.
Again, I love those poems, they're excelent, i was afraid for a while there that there was absolutely no poets on the forums, apart from people who decided they just wanted to make fun of so called "emos". Thankfully i was proved wrong, poetry is a great way to express feelings, and i'd hate to see it dissapear into nowhere. |
Meh, there are way too many "emo/goth" poems out there. Noone can ever be cheerful in poetry. That, and free verse emo/goth poems are much easier to make than nursery rhymes. Takes 5 minuites to make and takes about no thought. Falconsfan did a pretty good interpretation.
Well, here is my poem: Five Meals By me Today I have strangely been in the mood To eat a hill a mountain of food A breakfast for four Makes me want more Lunch for a king Is hardly a thing An elephant snack I gorge and attack Dinner is big I eat like a pig Yet a small desert Makes my tummy hurt |
Quote:
I know all this because my friend Kayla got her poem published in a book of theirs. She, luckily, received a copy for free. We did research, and it turns out a lot of the poets had to pay for a copy of the book. So if you don't have to pay, cool, you got your poem in a book. If they ask you to pay, tell them to screw themselves. EDIT: I'm sorry I don't have any poems to input, just thought I should let you know all that. Also, you can look it up yourself. Search google. Also, sorry I had to be the one to tell you. |
I have many poems ive written in a past but no real recent ones, they are super emo for the most part. When i find my note book of poems ill select a few and post them
EDIT1: Poem 1 In the darkness all the horrible lies are ended by silent cries of the most unbearable kind the never ending pain that scorns your mind is released as the vien is punctured with a blade hoping the scars may one day fade as well as the torture and the roll is payed in the execution of the years you've stayed Poem 2 Frustration Sufication contemplations of Suicide are all reflected upon the night you are to die Thees no end to the pain you feel inside you care no longer of the rule or limits you are to abide for now all that matters are the drops of crimson as you watch them splatter upn the ground which will soon become a mound as you lay insdie and the people morn the day you died not knowing quite sure why you just gave up instead of try not knowing of the pain or how they had been so vain not seeing thats why you had been slain poem 3 a sudden sense i want to die tiny tears flooding each eye senseless thoughts scamble in my head all of them about wishing i was dead i start to think how others will feel tiny shivers run down with a chill i realise they wouldnt even car if i disappear and suddenly wasnt there no one would even notice until much time had passed so i take a deep breath which veyr well maybe my last. Song 1 Chorus: Loosing control your bodies numb memories are gone your life is done theres nothing to live for no one loves me your like will be over even though its so In-Com-plete There are so many ways to end it all you make your decision no one ever saw they never knew it was coming never thought twice always asumed your life was so nice (chorus) They all ask questions at the crime sence 'He was such a good boy, How could this be?' Watching the termoil from a place up above you want to reach out and show them your love (chorus) Sitting around thinking about what you have done probably shouldnt have picked up that gun shouldnt have ended it you could have worked out all the bull shit (chorus) Song 2: i want to hide make a disguise and protect my self from all the lies maybe then the pain would subside keeping me alive i dont want to die A gun to my head, i stop pres rewind see why i am here before i leave everthing behind images run rampat in my head all the times i wished i was dead all the tears and all the fears memories of horrid fights and long ass nights there is no way this isnt right I wish i could hide Maybe then i would have still been alive make this pain subside i dont want to die as the blood runs down his arms he is suddenly alarmed with visions of what cuase the pain and all the people who had been so vain he thinks of the names he has been called and all the times he has been mauled in his last breath he takes his blood and writes i wish i could hide, make a disguise and protect myself from all the lies maybe then the pain woudl subside keeping me alive i dont want to die He comes in intoxicated she stands there isolated knowing the pain that is to come she wonders why hes such a drunken bum he doesnt realize when he hurts her he is becoming the real murderer The long nights in the bed followed by huge fights and her bloody head the only for him to return and find her dead I wish i could hide maybe then i would still be alive make this pain subside i dont want to die I dont want to die okay im done. |
Serious Tank? Coz i was gettin emails wanting me to go to America to win some prize and stuff. And yea, they are askin me to pay. Oh well, I dont mind, I figured it mighta been something stupid like a scam, but one can always hope. Thanks for tellin me though^^.
Sera, they're heaps good! Have you actually put music to your songs? If you have, you should get them recorded or something, if you already have, congrats^^ |
Lord Carbo- I really enjoyed your poem.
Props. |
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