Ok this is a little thing i have thought about and i like to write poems and i thought other might like to do the same, well if you have a poem you would like to share with me and the other users. I will write a poem i have had published in a book called emotions a little background about it this was for a girl i feel in love with but she fuked me over so here goes, this is i think the shortest one i have written, just had to write what i felt for her. title is how do you feel? I know what weve got is real and true, all i want is to be with you, i will be with you, till the very last day, and i will promise you i will never stray. once there is a reply i will add another i have wrriten.
These were written YEARS ago. little girl how beautiful she was, just sitting there the smoke curled around her face, accenting the blue in her eyes. she was pefect. but inside, the little girl was rabid with malice. she was a separate yet embedded entity, their heartbeats in sync. not to be questioned. outside, with every frantic giggle, the girl inside SCREAMED, MOTHER FUCKING MINDLESS DRONES WITH THEIR - the words came more easily when she was asleep, subdued by the nicotine and black coffee. every now and again, though, the little girl would wake SO MUCH ANGER TO FUCKING WADE THROUGH, HER PATIENCE WAS - but ignorance was bliss, the girl just laughed and wrote. while the smoke curled around her face. she'll wake up again, i'm sure of it. MBB It danced in circles, IGNORANT but joyful watching it opened a door to the mind, once locked - now a doorstop kept it ajar Within, blatant misunderstanding. Without, shameless pride. M. B. B. could not let it go. MEMORIES are all that is left, besides the ash and a cracked foundation // BUT WITHIN. I LAUGHED. AND HELD SO TIGHT. I REFUSED. TO LET IT GO. wriggled. pried. slipped away, in AWE at it's freedom. in some way, it was still mine. the chords still rang in my ears. the sound of the train, the blinking lights of vehicle's caught between the train cars. these make no sense. but it danced in circles, IGNORANT but joyful. I want to write by candlelight - it makes these words seem inspired but I write by TV light - still, these words remain the same. wouldn't it be GRAND if I were alone? - my thoughts keep me awake. my back has folded like the cards in your hand - but do I understand? someone always second guesses what they said - a moment before now, it seems to be my turn - like so many musical chairs. it gives these words meaning. a marvelous reflection hints at something... better than this but the reflection is the result of altered perception. but i've spiralled into condemnation and, now, here is the result, be it dissapointing be it predicted or expected THIS is the result of my 'marvelous' reflection. and if/I stop BREATHING will I b e g i n again? or will I grow GILLS and jump offshore? the ocean will be HOME to the fish and the INSPIRED. My faith has dried up then struck a drought if all it took was the uttering of/those words I would have done it sooner than this. I once believed if I loved others, they would love me, too. I know better, NOw. it's all in our cold eyes and uninhibited cruelty that we prove to OURSELVES that we're ALIVE. TT HH IA ST LB IE FA EU AT NY DI TS HS ET AI IL RL AW FO TR EK RI AN SG TO OV RE MR AT RI EM RE EF MO IR NM DE E. R. S. I've gone in CIRCLES the past few years - picking up things on my way. RE: minding myself that: I AM. and that sometimes MIS-takes are given REFLECTION, giving realization of POSibilites for change. and that maybe writing UP SIDE DOWN keeps them on their toes. SO, if my chair breaks beneath me, i'll land with grace. and calculated understanding. so, chair: BREAK. WHEN the clouds become BURISED and swollen, WILL rain wash away these INsecurities, or, like the wood of the BENCH on that annonymous street, will they SWELL and crack until all THE paint chips off? I am constricted and held down, my eyes are HIDDEN so all that's/left is room to guess at colours at shapes CERTAINTIES like this paper PROVE that I am not yet fully BROKEN. Being con stric ted PROVES that survival IS/STILL my DESIRE if it FADES like so many POLAROIDS in the SUN. Constrict me again. I don't yet want this to end if I slip away HOLD ME DOWN please I am constricted and held down and my eyes are HIDDEN. I won't lie if you won't continue to HURT yourself by presenting YOU as something ex- pdendable if given the CHANCE i'd fix it for you. i'd fix you. you'd be better than ME. sure, I could FIX me. But i'd rather you BE HAPPY. so, hold out your HAND, and LET my soul CONDENSE and pour onto your palm, THERE- fore better absorb my meaning. HERETOFORE, you didn't smile. now you can't wipe that grin off your face. I view the dark city through corrective lenses___ but nothing seems correct The building collapes but I seem to fall slower___ than these fiery bricks and pulling myself skyward my skin peels and my eyes___ my eyes have turned around and i find myself surrounded by myself___ the pain is searing, it won't stop. wait, stopped. white. corrective lenses correcting the incorrect. the building remains. my eyes face forward. the pain is gone. i'm in my cave. you're here. white. still so white.
I like those balthier very nice Here is another of mine Let's go out and have some fun. It doesn't matter where or when, Or what we say or what we do, As long as it's just me and you. Let's be together for a while And get to know each other well, Exchanging jokes and tales and chatter Before we get to things that matter. Let's see what happens when we dance Across an evening sky, and glimpse Below the stirrings of a sea That might--or not--wind-haunted be. Writen once again for the bitch lmaoooo
You guys are good at writing a poem. I'll just sit here in my home. Nothing to do just Neofriends poetry. I really suck at this some I gonna go grow a tree. LMAO
lmao saint now you know why i have had a few published. i have hundreds i wish i had the money to get them all done but unfortunately i don't lol
That's awesome dude ....You could go to a newspaper or magazine and get them published for free. They might even pay you for them actually. My friend did that with his short stories. He has a contract to write a short story every month for a small paper and they pay him 100$ for it every month.
thats the thing i dont want paying for them i just want someone to say yes we will publish them and you get recognition, i do it for enjoy ment it also help with my anger problem, i did used to dgo to anger management until i broke the leaders nose for been a muppet :lol:
O.O....Poetry is a good stress reliver for anyone it seems like....For me, I KNOW I can't write poetry but it relives some stress when I do because I can just make up wacky stuff hat makes me laugh. Lol
I'm going to write a poem, starting at 11:11 PM (OMGZ M8K A WISH) and see what I come up with and how long it takes, i've never really tried to write poetry. You been runnin my game, and violatin' my space, it's you I blame, for setting my pace, i'm gonna sit you down, face to face, and say to you, this isn't your place ...uh that took one minute lol
Yes poems are deep and personal but thats what makes them touch people, people like to read of other lifes and poetry is a way of telling you life without it having to be boring.
heres a poem i did for english 9: Into the Abyss A I walked alone to an unknown land A Hidden deep beneath the sand B As I journeyed beneath mud and stone B I past two pillars formed from bone C Into the darkness my quest unfolded C After many years of being molded D I remembered from all the stories of lore D I was warned not to travel anymore E As I passed a room of decay E I wish the voices would go away F Then I remembered my master’s words F I remember like the songs of birds Our souls wander about in the present of the dead “Thank you,†I said to him in my head The living dead seemed to roam here Luckily I have nothing to fear These nightmare creatures live on fear and hatred How long have these abominations been fated? I ventured forward ever-more, into the abyss Could there be a clue I could have missed? I unfolded my map, the pieces all fit Then I realized the truth as the lantern I lit Suddenly blew out as if was shy Here in this place, I am fated to die. Apostrophe: “Thank you,†I said to him in my head Oxymoron: Living dead Hyperbole: Into the abyss Personification: as if was shy Allusion: Abyss, in classic Greek mythology, below Earth, and Hades is Tartarus. It is a deep, gloomy place, a pit or abyss used as a dungeon of torment and suffering. Assonance: How long have these abominations Consonance: Hidden deep beneath the sand Note: i needed to show the rhyme scheme and all those devices used above
That is a amazing poem i am glad others can write great poetry, Ibadmus you should post 1 or 2 no one will judge you for it it just lets people know how you are felling at that particular time.
Whats your real name i will try and make a poem from it i cant say i can but i will have a good try at it.
yeah rap is poetry, although there will always be anti-rap people for those who like rap (ying-yang and whatnot)
I wrote this after a really important audition that didn't go so well. It sounds a bit teen angst-ish, but it's not supposed to. -Untitled- I'm withering away Revealing my feelings I feel so cheap No one's listening I sing my poignant song No one hears. Miserable thoughts Going through my mind. My deranged mentality Drive them all away. My well-being Is not of importance. They closed the door On me and my life They left us here Shivering in the cold. I close my eyes. Shut out the world. Never open up again. I'm dead inside. Clinging onto a thread. And when they've forgotten my name I plummet endlessy Never reaching anything. No hope of hopes. Nothing. I did not choose my fate They chose it for me.