Anyone else write poetry?

[Vimp]

So for the main part you're a creative bunch who enjoy RP (note not all!) so I'm sure you're creative in other areas too. For me I had never considered writing a poem or any such 'wussy' activity until out of the blue, I wrote one for for a girl around 7 years ago who I had been enjoying spending sometime with for several months, over which our relationship had evolved. We both knew that ultimately, through reasons beyond our control it had run its course. She was under continual pressure from her ex whom she had left for me and she was also about to leave the country to complete her education activities abroad and needed a break from everything before she broke.

I wrote a poem for her that I gave her when she came around to my place the night before she left for Germany. She was instructed to take away and to not read until she had reached her destination, I knew later from our contact that it had made her cry. I hadn't wanted her to read it before she went away because it would have made it harder for her emotionally to leave, which, although might have been what I selfishly might have wanted, it wasn't the right thing for me to do to keep her here and inhibit her studies.

So anyway, back to the point, I found it a great medium for release of thoughts and feelings that often get stored up inside and eat away at us, and thus is born some of my creativity. I have wrote a number of pieces since then, some have been published but all have been wrote when I've felt the need for release.

This thread is for all of you to share your own poetry with us, I'll start the ball rolling with one I wrote for that special person I knew back then, it's called Dreamer. It's not the one I gave to her all those years ago as simply, that one will remain our own. To the same end, she will never know this one exists. Please add your own work to this thread.

Vimp.

Dreamer

As darkness draws, I close my eyes, relinquishing my mind to dreamful sighs.
For the night is the time of tranquil sensations, my spirit can be free of its heartfelt lamentations.
Freed from my conscious, my heart comes unbound, flying upon a whisper, quiet, not a sound,
Able at last, to begin to dream, my secrets, my longings, released in a stream.
For dreams are a time when hopes can come true, in these precious times, my thoughts reflect you.
Within my heart, a special place I hide, a secret place where only you reside,
It's full of my feelings so pure, so true, my desire, my passion, my love for you.
My love of a flower, an English rose, a fountain of beauty where charisma flows,
An angel of kindness and compassion right through, I could never help my falling for you.
And although my love, I never meant this to be, I cannot betray what you stir within me,
For you are the flame that sparks my fire, filling me throughout with loving desire,
To tell you "I love you" each and every day, it's so very hard to keep locked away.
I wish that at times, my dreams wouldn't end, for that way my heart, I'd not have to mend,
As within my dreams, we can be together, loving and laughing, forever not never.
But darkness must fade, light heralds the dawn, I'm pulled from my reverie a little forlorn,
But upon my face, I shall wear a quiet smile, as within my dream, we walked together for a while.

AL

[Merji]

I love it..and perhaps if I get brave enough, I'll post a poem or two as well. thanks for opening this type of thread.

Merji's Muse
~K~

[Sean of the Thread]

Milk Milk
Lemonade
Around The Corner
Fudge
Is Made


Beautiful isn't it.

[Jorddyn]

Milk Milk
Lemonade
Around The Corner
Fudge
Is Made


Beautiful isn't it.

I'm glad to see the mentality of these boards is maintaining its current second grade level.

Jorddyn

[fallenSaint]

I'm glad to see the mentality of these boards is maintaining its current second grade level.

Jorddyn


That's clearly Third Grade Ill have you!

[Kainen]

I write occasionally.. here's an old one..

Listening To The Rain

I sit in darkness
in it's depths I hear it
The rain
It drips down the window
A maze of minature rivers
My heart beats in time
in time with the drops
I sit in darkness
the shadows a blanket
they cover me
listening to the rain
I know it's feel
I know it's taste
my skin knows it's caress
the rain blankets the world
changing all the colors
washing the air
cleansing it
cleansing my soul
as I sit in darkness
Listening
listening to the rain

[Hulkein]

At the red river,
take the dirt road.

[Warriorbird]

Vaguely subject (fantasy/GS) appropriate. I write quite a lot of poetry. Villanelles have always been one of my favorite forms.

:::::::::::::::::::::

Mordred

I threw the lady back into the lake
and even though I had to really try
I broke the sword that did not break

I took every chance I could take
to escape even though I knew not why
I threw the lady back into the lake

I had it all and all I did forsake
because it was every moment a lie
I broke the sword that did not break

ask me later about the life I'll make
ask me later once I figure out how to cry
I threw the lady back into the lake

still it echoes in my parting wake
I thought I could learn how to fly
I broke the sword that did not break

for my sake and for your sake
maybe I'm brave enough now that I
I threw the lady back into the lake
I broke the sword that did not break

[Daniel]

Do I write poetry?

Fuck no.

[Asha]

For someone who's been writing poems for 7 years
I'd have thought you could fullfil me one wish
To learn the fucking meaning of Paragraphs
Especially since you've been 'published'.

[Czeska]

ooo i should find the one I wrote in college about how man created God and the whole world ended and and and..

:cough:

Anyway, I got an A on it.

[Warriorbird]

Weather Report

we talk loops
stare at sky
sit on stoops
cars pass by

stare at sky
sun come out
cars pass by
in the South

sun come out
wind can blow
in the South
sun set indigo

wind can blow
in your hair
sun set indigo
and we stare

in your hair
air is warm
and we stare
today no storm

sit on stoops
today no storm
we talk loops
air is warm

[Merji]

Written only a few moments ago..not stellar..But I feel it.

Tear

The pain of a broken heart
Eased a little each day
By the birth of each tear.
A tear that slowly ebbs away,
That taints my cheek
And creates the bitter taste that's upon my lips.

The birth of each tear
Creates the memory
Of a broken dream, a lost hope.
But each tear a bittersweet twist.
As they ease my pain
And brings a gentle reassurance
Of my hearts true emotions,
Its real intentions.

Through each tear born,
My heart still loves you.
Through each tear shed,
My soul still holds you.
Through each tear born,
My memories still live.
Through each tear shed,
I still love you.

[Chaddy]

I confess;
It'll take something much more than a careless caress;
Try to impress;
Try to suggest;
To me a time upon which I can sit;
Like I give a shit;
Look at me live with it;
And you have the audacity to utter I'm not fit?;
Fuck you twit;
Get fucked;
Get bent;
Time spent is time wasted;
You can't see the glory that I've tasted;
I've faced it;
It's because neither can I;
I try and I try and I try;
Can you tell me why?;
Can I?;
Something so maddening it becomes more enigmatic even in death?;
Is this all we have left?
Is the answer coasting along delicately upon the lips of the shy?;
Goodbye;
You can't leave yet;
I bet;
You've set everything you let;
You left alone;
In a zone of it's own;
Disowned;
Now how do you feel?;
Look at you coward;
Do you think this is real?;
Do you seek what you feel?;
Can you feel what you seek?;
Or do you just smirk;
Because emotions are weak.

[Asha]

Chaddy you supprise me!
:)

[DeV]

Vimp... I like your style of prose. The poem is beautiful. Looks like you wrote it in a freestyle format... nicely done.

[Augie]

I wrote a poem during the first Gulf war and had it published in a college periodical once.

For My Soldier

I pray for peace and freedom,
I pray for victory.
But most of all I pray to God
To bring you back to me.

You need not be a hero.
You need not win great fame.
And even if your body is hurt,
I will love you just the same.

So now I close my eyes and pray,
While down my face tears creep.
If God can not bring you back alive
Then let me stay asleep.

[Warriorbird]

Past the Morning

The curtain of night sways and becomes the curtain of the days.
Sensuous rays split the haze of the morning hunger,
aftermath, like candle wax, of a night spent in pleasant ways
I bite into the day, searching for new wonder.

Sensuous rays split the haze of the morning hunger.
The watermelon is the brightest sort of temporary red.
I bite into the day, searching for new wonder.
I dream of where the future will be permanently lead.

The watermelon is the brightest sort of temporary red
The seeds resemble needs, the quenching of a thirst,
I dream of where the future will be permantly lead
with each new appreciation, each new trembling first.

The seeds resemble needs, the quenching of a thirst,
aftermath, like candle wax, of a night spent in pleasant ways,
with each new appreciation, each new trembling first,
the curtain of night sways and becomes the curtain of the days.

[Vimp]

Nevermind, either you're naive of poetic forms or simply used to nursery rhymes, either way, if you're after 'paragraphs' I suggest you look within other literature types as within poetry you will find 'stanzas'... Of course, if you had known that then you would recognise that there are many different styles of poetry. Clearly not the thread for you so fullfil my wish and take your anger to therapy and/or other threads, ta.

Back on subject, thanks Dev for comments, and thanks to Merji for being brave! All good stuff! Here's another of mine, Analogy.

Analogy
A tangled web the spider weaves,
gossamer threads that float in the breeze,
a silken shimmer barely faint in the light,
unwary is the fly as it flitters to its plight,
to be ensnared by this, the most delicate of traps,
if it knew of its fate, would it avoid it? Perhaps.

But too late does it feel the delicate kiss of the web,
no escape from its fate, hope slowly ebbs.
Deaf ears burn, to its cries they don't listen,
as regrets echo from this most pristine prison.
Thus bound in a vice with a cold grip of steel,
now comes the jailer to eye up her meal.
Do her eyes bare hint to her hidden malice,
as she winds her way through her crystal palace?
No. For emotion the assassin does not bare,
no sentiment of grief for the fly, not a care,
so shadowed in stealth with looks so frail,
most cruellest of kisses hides under her veil,
a kiss that she blesses upon this pitiful fly,
a kiss that betrays emotions running high,
A hope? Was I wrong? Only she knows,
Betrayed by a kiss, now only venom flows.

A small whispered mist, the fly's breath fades,
eyes grown dim, translucent, over glazed.
but shed not a tear, for me, don't cry,
for this is the fate of the spider and the fly.
AL Jun 2002

[Asha]

<<--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Nevermind, either you're naive of poetic forms or simply used to nursery rhymes, either way, if you're after 'paragraphs' I suggest you look within other literature types as within poetry you will find 'stanzas'... Of course, if you had known that then you would recognise that there are many different styles of poetry. Clearly not the thread for you so fullfil my wish and take your anger to therapy and/or other threads, ta. >> - Vimp

It's not the paragraphs in the poems I'm talking about.

[Czeska]

So for the main part you're a creative bunch who enjoy RP (note not all!) so I'm sure you're creative in other areas too. For me I had never considered writing a poem or any such 'wussy' activity until out of the blue, I wrote one for for a girl around 7 years ago who I had been enjoying spending sometime with for several months, over which our relationship had evolved. We both knew that ultimately, through reasons beyond our control it had run its course. She was under continual pressure from her ex whom she had left for me and she was also about to leave the country to complete her education activities abroad and needed a break from everything before she broke. I wrote a poem for her that I gave her when she came around to my place the night before she left for Germany. She was instructed to take away and to not read until she had reached her destination, I knew later from our contact that it had made her cry. I hadn't wanted her to read it before she went away because it would have made it harder for her emotionally to leave, which, although might have been what I selfishly might have wanted, it wasn't the right thing for me to do to keep her here and inhibit her studies. So anyway, back to the point, I found it a great medium for release of thoughts and feelings that often get stored up inside and eat away at us, and thus is born some of my creativity. I have wrote a number of pieces since then, some have been published but all have been wrote when I've felt the need for release.


Pretty sure that's what he meant.

[Vimp]

It's missing the point, but just to please you, edited. New rule for the thread - If you're going to whine, at least make it rhyme. Now submit something worthy!

[Warriorbird]

Last Night

I hadn't really thought it would happen
I wouldn't really have guessed
Occurences sometimes impossible to fathom
In the game of breaths

I wouldn't really have guessed
Or even expect
In the game of breaths
we foolishly think neglect is rejection

Or even expect
that reality is not reality
we foolishly think neglect is rejection
neglecting the foremost aspect of our duality

that reality is not reality
but a confusing mix of causality
neglecting the foremost aspect of our duality
which is clearly love, love, love

In the game of breaths
Occurences sometimes impossible to fathom
I wouldn't really have guessed
I hadn't really thought it would happen

...love.

[Alfster]

Once upon a time there were three little pigs

[Merji]

He Who Has Forgotten ME

I wrote a poem for he who would never write for me
In honor of our friendship and it's long lost memory
Summoned every ounce of spirit and released it through my pen
Got lost between the lines over and over again
But when I tried to read it I stuttered every word
And I fear that it's because he'd merely think it was absurd
That I would try so hard and still fail miserabley
To write a poem for he who would never write for me

I painted a portrait of he who would never paint of me
Put my emotions into colors however bleak they seemed to be
All except those deep green eyes that just don't look at me the same
I blended every shade of grey and sealed it with my name
But when I put it on display it lacked that final touch
And I fear that it's because it would hurt me just too much
To paint a countenance so weary when it never used to be
Before I painted the portrait of he who will never paint of me

I sang a song for he who would never sing to me
Took the music from my soul and composed a symphony
Perfected every note to call for him by name
To serenade his heavy heart instead of cause it pain
But when I stood up to perform the tune projected bittersweetly
And I fear that it's because he'll never understand completely
The meaning hidden deep within the casual melody
Of a song I sang for he who would never sing to me

I cried a tear for he who will never cry for me
For every time we spent just sitting next to our special tree
For the way I'll spend my sleepless nights in absolute despair
Forever reaching out for him when I know he isn't there
But sometimes I still imagine him near, even though I know
And I fear that it's because I just can't bare to let him go
So I'm doomed to spend my life in a broken fantasy
Thinking and dreaming of he who has long forgotten me

[Merji]

When love is an affliction,
There's not much one can do.
Despite the way you've treated me,
I'm still in love with you.

I am the wave and you the rock
Against which I must break:
Again, again the crushing jolt,
The pain I can't forsake;

Again, again the long retreat
To safety, far from shore,
And then again, I don't know why,
The long trip back for more.

Perhaps it is nostalgia for
A long uncertain glow,
Or just some hope so beautiful
I cannot let it go.

Perhaps it is the need to try
For those who must depend
On who we are and what we do,
For whom this should not end.

What evil makes you hurt me so,
What defect of the heart?
What sense there is no greater whole
Of which you are a part?

What lonely choice that only you
Be served by what you choose?
What hard, hard fear of losing what
It is a gift to lose?

I dream sometimes my waiting love
Has made you turn again.
But you care only for yourself,
And I must love in vain.

[Bobmuhthol]

Pain
I walk in the land of pain
There suffering and agony reign
Torture, torment, and wretchedness fill my life
Bitterness and misery describe my strife
My wounds and anguish are everlasting
Frailty and grief are caused by my fasting


But I wouldn't expect any of you to realize how fucking sweet that poem is.

[Ebondale]

Sounds emo to me, Bob.

[Sean of the Thread]

Since none of you liked my original submission I'm back with another fine offering.

My TP is 1-ply.
My fingers poked through.
I see they are brown now --
It's time to buy 2-.

[Bobmuhthol]

<<Sounds emo to me, Bob.>>

As well it should.

[Artha]

I don't usually do things like this but here is some poetry from my composition book. It barely scratches the surface of my pain.

xPLASTICxFRIENDSx

Halloween mask
Over too much make up
Painted smiles over painted smiles
Fake feelings wrapped in plastic

You cut me so deep
With your words of false friendship
The wool over my eyes
Now cast aside

I cry and I think
and I smoke and I drink
and all the while
I wish I could die

xENDx


xBROKENxHEARTEDxONxBANKxSTREETx

A brisk, cold breeze blows
The sound of revelry drifts down the alleys
The smell is cold, autumnal bliss
But none of this can phase me
Because you're a cold-hearted bitch

I didn't ask for much
Your time, your thoughts
I gave you all I could
My heart, my love
Now I'm just yesterday's news
And because of you
I've got the blues

I try to see through
My heartbreak
And all I see
Is that you're my
Biggest mistake

How can you be so cold?
To have, to hold...
Now he holds you in his arms
While I cut mine to feel again

xENDx


xMISERYxFOLLOWSxMEx

Rain clouds overhead
Simply a reflection of
My emotions inside

These dreary days
So full of lost possibilties
No children will play on a day like this

Trapped inside
I bleed onto this paper
Through rainclouds
And pencil
- Relaxation -

xENDx


xMYxLIFExASxAxDASHBOARDx

Mileage too high
Engine still cold
Trip odometer reset
000 000
My destiny, illuminated
The gas meter
Reads half empty

xENDx

[Doughboy]

There once was a man from Nantucket
Aww..fuck it

[Warriorbird]

Merci

Lustrous maiden in passing
I am nobody's hero
All the tasks I am surpassing
Are frozen at absolute zero

I am nobody's hero
The eyes of my favorite belle dame
Are frozen at absolute zero
The fire lights here seldom

The eyes of my favorite belle dame
Wax passionate transfiguring
The fire lights here seldom
I know of what she's been dreaming

Wax passionate transfiguring
Is that what she really is after?
I know of what she's been dreaming
I know of what causes her laughter

Is that what she really is after?
I will be granite not eroding
I know of what causes her laughter
She knows what she is holding

I will be granite not eroding
All the tasks I am surpassing
She knows what she is holding
Lustrous maiden in passing

[Sean of the Thread]

Twas the night before Christmas, and God it was neat

The kids were both gone, and my wife was in heat

The doors were all bolted, and the phone off the hook

It was time for some nooky, by hook or by crook.

Momma in her teddy, and I in the nude. Had just hit the bedroom and reached for the lube

When out on the lawn there arose such a cry, That I lost my boner and poor momma went dry.

Up to the window I sprang like an elf, Tore back the shade while she played with herself.

The moon on the crest of the snowman we'd built, Showed a broom up his ass, clean up to the hilt.

When what to my wondering eyes should appear, But a rusty old sleigh and eight mangy reindeer.

With a fat little driver, half out of his sled, A sock in his ear, and a bra on his head.

Sure as I'm speaking, he was as high as a kite.

And he yelled to his team, but it didn't sound right.

Whoa Shithead, whoa Asshole, whoa Stupid, whoa Putz, Either slow down this rig or I'll cut off your nuts.

Look out for the lamp post, and don't hit the tree, Quit shaking the sleigh, 'cause I gotta go pee.

They cleared the old lamp post, the tree got a rub, Just as Santa leaned out and threw up on my shrub.

And then from the roof we heard such a clatter, As each little reindeer now emptied its bladder.

I was donning my jacket to cover my ass, When down the chimney Santa came with a crash.

His suit was all smelly with perfume galore, He looked like a bum and he smelled like a whore.

That was some brothel, he said with a smile, The reindeer are pooped, I'll just stay here awhile.

He walked to the kitchen, himself poured a drink, Then whipped out his pecker and pissed in the sink.

I started to laugh, my wife smiled with glee, The old boy was hung nearly down to his knee.

Back in the den, Santa reached in his sack, But his toys were all gone, and some new things were packed.

The first thing he found was a pair of false tits, The next was a handgun with a penis that spits.

A box filled with condoms was Santa's next find, And a six pair of panties, the edible kind.

A bra without nipples, a penis extension, And several other things that I shouldn't even mention.

A cock ring, a G-string, and all types of oil, A dildo so long, it lay in a coil.

This suff ain't for kids, Mrs. Santa will shit, So I'll leave 'em here, and then I'll just split.

He filled every stocking and then took his leave, With one tiny butt plug tucked under his sleeve.

He sprang to his sleigh, but his feet were like lead, Thus he fell on his ass and broke wind instead.

In time he was seated, took the reins of his hitch, Take me home Rudolph, this night's been a bitch!

The sleigh was near gone when we heard Santa shout, The best thing about sex is that it never wears out!

[Jolena]

Okay damn, that one made me laugh. Whee, thanks. :)

[HarmNone]

Heh. I thought this thread was for original poetry...that which you wrote yourself.

[Apotheosis]

ZOMG THE DARKNESS OF THE SOUL.


the end.

[Merji]

Betrayed

I see the tree with the branch, high up,
Teetering in the wind
Blown about by storms and hurricanes,
Barely hanging on.
But still hanging on.

I see the fruit, it’s present,
As it is offered to me
With silent pleadings for someone, anyone, to find it’s last gift.
It’s only gift.

It summons me like an advertisement I am compelled to read and so
I drum up the courage to climb up the slippery husk,
Whilst looking downward at the growing distance of the ground,
With the knowledge of the pain that could occur with a simple slip
Just a tremulous reverberation from deep within by the being which desperately wants to share.

And still, I climb.

I know that should I fall - it will hurt. That I could break my soul, my heart, myself
And be cast down against the jagged rocks of my own doubts – of self-worth
As they stare and tell me ‘I told you that you weren’t worth it.’

And yet I climb on. Up through the most difficult part and then I walk like a trapeze artist along the limb
In order to reach out and touch the gift that must be shared. The gift I know exists.
The gift I know is offered for those with courage enough to take it.
And I have that courage.
I think I do.

I grasp the fruit, the reward.
I take it in my hand and marvel at its sweetness, its pureness, the completeness of it.
And while I stand in amazement upon that branch, a long way from my own safety,
I start to feel the tremor rise up from the being
and my feet start slipping.
I tell myself that the soul is afraid, scared by the unknown, frightened by the unfamiliar – which is I, as I hold it’s essence in my hand.

And as I fall unprotected
to the hard ground of reality.

I scream.

The ground comes oh too quickly, and I feel the first stabs of pain as they shoot through my body and mind… and heart
And I look at the fruit which I grasped as I fell, as it rolls from my hand unloved, not by me unloved, but by it’s owner,
I watch it as it careens to the puddle of mud, which dirty’s it, cheapens it
Until it is no more a treasure, a gift,
but now only a common bruised piece of fruit, from a soul that was too frightened to trust.

Lying on my back, broken and shivering, I gaze skyward towards the heavens and look for reasons
For the tremor
That made me fall.
And yet the ones that rain down upon me, from the being, do not help my pain to go away.

Perhaps time will heal the wound,
And the scars will give me strength to try again.
If only I can forget this anguish that devours my soul.

[Medri]

I like it. Describes to me the process of opening up a love and having it thrown down again.

Here's an old one from my archives..

Crystal Lake
In the distance I see the willows weeping
Crying somber in the waters keeping
Down upon the crystal lake
A drizzle falls in spring's last wake
Here within this evening's gown
Freely falling from twilight's frown
There I lay atop a hill of grass
Watching, quietly, this sad night's mass
For they sing for me tonight, me alone
Psalms of pain, suffering, hearts that moan
A true felt longing thunders in the storm
As once lost whispers take new form
And I watch as they dance upon the crystal lake
Comfortably drifting, through this sleepless quake
-Chris Whitworth

[Merji]

Very nice Medri!


Merji's Muse

[Leetahkin]

Love: Two people as one
Hate: Two people at war
Hate: A strong dislike
Love: As special as before

Love: Never letting you go
Hate: Never letting you near
Hate: Nothing to say
Love: Nothing to fear
____________________________

The warmest touch,
The sweetest kiss;
All this comes,
With wedded bliss.

A genuine look,
An understanding smile;
Just sitting there,
In your arms for a while.

A friendly hello,
A sad goodbye;
Alone creeps in,
I greet it with a sigh.


(both written in 1997, both untitled)

[Warriorbird]

Jumping Off

Life's water passes through gritted teeth
You must concentrate on the sun today
We each swim out slowly past the reef

You must also concentrate on rocks beneath
You cannot reach them out this far this way
Life's water passes through gritted teeth

Sages tell of stroke and form, wearing the laurel wreath
They do not take the time to stop and say
We each swim out slowly past the reef

I hope you find definition, pure relief
A way, a path, a course to stay
Life's water passes through gritted teeth

I try to support and keep my fears in sheath
Love, your choice to pray or not to pray
Life's water passes through gritted teeth
We each swim out slowly past the reef

[WhiteTrash]

Not mine, got it in an email to day...


"I AM METH"
(This was written by a young Indian girl who was in jail for drug charges,
and was addicted to meth. She wrote this while in jail. As you will soon
read, she fully grasped the horrors of the drug, as she tells in this
simple, yet profound poem. She was released from jail, but, true to her
story, the drug owned her. They found her dead not long after, with the
needle still in her arm.)

Please keep praying for our Children, Teens, Young adults, Older adults.
Understand, this thing is worse than any of us realize.
..
My Name: "Is Meth"
I destroy homes, I tear families apart,
take your children, and that's just the start.
I'm more costly than diamonds, more precious than gold,
The sorrow I bring is a sight to behold.
If you need me, remember I'm easily found,
I live all around you - in schools and in town
I live with the rich; I live with the poor,
I live down the street, and maybe next door.
I'm made in a lab, but not like you think,
I can be made under the kitchen sink.
In your child's closet, and even in the woods,
If this scares you to death, well it certainly should.
I have many names, but there's one you know best,
I'm sure you've heard of me, my name is crystal meth.
My power is awesome; try me you'll see,
But if you do, you may never break free.
Just try me once and I might let you go,
But try me twice, and I'll own your soul.
When I possess you, you'll steal and you'll lie,
You do what you have to -- just to get high.
The crimes you'll commit for my narcotic charms
Will be worth the pleasure you'll feel in your arms.
You'll lie to your mother; you'll steal from your dad,
When you see their tears, you should feel sad.
But you'll forget your morals and how you were raised,
I'll be your conscience, I'll teach you my ways.
I take kids from parents, and parents from kids,
I turn people from God, and separate friends.
I'll take everything from you, your looks and your pride,
I'll be with you always -- right by your side.
You'll give up everything - your family, your home,
Your friends, your money, then you'll be alone.
I'll take and take, till you have nothing more to give,
When I'm finished with you, you'll be lucky to live.
If you try me be warned - this is no game,
If given the chance, I'll drive you insane.
I'll ravish your body, I'll control your mind,
I'll own you completely, your soul will be mine.
The nightmares I'll give you while lying in bed,
The voices you'll hear, from inside your head.
The sweats, the shakes, the visions you'll see,
I want you to know, these are all gifts from me.
But then it's too late, and you'll know in your heart,
That you are mine, and we shall not part.
You'll regret that you tried me, they always do,
But you came to me, not I to you.
You knew this would happen, many times you were told,
But you challenged my power, and chose to be bold.
You could have said no, and just walked away,
If you could live that day over, now what would you say?
I'll be your master, you will be my slave,
I'll even go with you, when you go to your grave.
Now that you have met me, what will you do?
Will you try me or not? It's all up to you.
I can bring you more misery than words can tell,
Come take my hand, let me lead you to hell.

[Warriorbird]

catharsis

tumbled in glass blown across an unsanded floor
spark lit to the edges of what we dared to adore
one can't begin to touch at the absence
one can just hope to begin to have sense
before the flames burn indelibly into the eyes
before the monitor has been left on suprise

there's no baby no garage no house and no reunion
no hands held no laugh cry or tear inhuman
a kiss blown in passing and the affairs in order
if there are memoirs they're written via forger
lick the lips to stop the crackling liquour strips
all the frames from backing all are tall ships

luffing not tacking yet somehow we miss in the night
miss the clasp before sleeping miss the time to write
right or rite of spring hope a glimmering thing
miss a candle earring hearing a ring and not tearing
all lay themselves to the tasks at their seperate hands
all are keyboards ...stop playing as pawn shop synthesizers ...start playing as grands

the lack of feeling is what sends me reeling
freedom on the sands
seperate blankets
seperate plans
seperate strands

snip
no demands

[Mighty Nikkisaurus]

I write a lot of poetry.. I find that my poems are usually the most articulated form of communication I use. I have plenty of very very angry ones (directed and written about people/situations) and plenty of silly, happy ones. Mostly I strive to be honest, when writing poetry though.

This is a poem I wrote because I was terified when I realized I was in love. I was also slightly depressed when I wrote it and pondering the meaning of life. Still though, for all of it's "emo" background I feel it's an honest work.


When exactly did I
Cease to Exist,
When did I miss
Things I'd never before missed?

At the end of the rain,
How did it come,
That as it shines down on us
I'd hate that very sun?

And if the hole gets too deep
Will I even try to get out,
Because in time what will it matter
How loud I can shout?

Will I actually start
to miss the fresh air,
If I spent my whole life
Dying down there?

What good is your heart for?
It'll be gone in 80 years--
and leave you with pain,
and unsettling fears.

What is life all but dying
Since the day you first live,
As we pretend to be important
When we have nothing to give.

We cause eachother pain
Even in our good intentions.
We hide the truth from ourselves,
the truth that nobody mentions.

Why do we love
When we know we will die?
Why does it matter if we live
If we are living to lie?

[Warriorbird]

Candles

I reach out I want to give you a candle
warmth and light and hope and all that
I don't know how I could ever possibly handle
the fact that you're looking into the wind

Now please don't think I could ever
possibly give up trying to work on us
What I want is to trust together
but the red wax drips down on my hand

I know that life's a wild thick forest
rain, cloud, evergreen, oak, and pine
perhaps we need a ragged chorus
song for when it's fine or not

We've let the things slide and we've fought
Gladdest thought, saddest thought, splash
like candles memorial, anniversary, or hand wrought
as they float out into the lake

Perhaps floating out there we'll take
a chance on riding out the storm
the wind will calm the day will break
and we'll burn bright before we're no longer warm

[HarmNone]

There are so many kinds of love.
There is the love of man for woman
Or woman for man.
It is this love on which we focus,
While forgetting so many other sources
Of peace for the soul.

There is the love of beauty,
To be found in the glory of a rose.
There is the love of innocence,
To be found in the smile of a baby.
There is the love of giving,
To be found in another's surprise.
There is the love of receiving,
To be found in a gift long treasured.

There are so many kinds of love.
While one may be fleeting and sorely missed,
Others abide, quietly waiting to be noticed.

[Warriorbird]

Crown Me

Crown me the King of nights and aways
Arms spread wide reaching for long set rays
I'll crown you the Queen of brights and warm days
Moments spread like tarot cards' fortunetelling arrays

Arms spread wide reaching for long set rays
Mute appeals directed towards the rain and thunder
Moments spread like tarot cards' fortunetelling arrays
Passing out joys and doubts and wonders

Mute appeals directed towards the rain and thunder
We only can afford one bliss at a time
Passing out joys and doubts and wonders
Wondering about wandering across tropical clime

We only can afford one bliss at a time
Yet we can afford to hold a hand to share an hour
Wondering about wandering across tropical clime
Still appreciating all of our in hand power

Yet we can afford to hold a hand to share an hour
There are many treasures found near to here
Still appreciating all of our in hand power
Not listening to scoffs or selfdoubting fear

There are many treasures found near to here
Meet me in the light between the dark
Not listening to scoffs or selfdoubting fear
Pressed together watching for the wintergreen spark

Meet me in the light between the dark
I'll crown you the Queen of brights and warm days
Pressed together watching for the wintergreen spark
Crown me the King of rights and todays

[Jolena]

~Jumbled~

Confusion reigns in my head
Thoughts
random thoughts
twirling around as if mocking my faith
Leering at my smile
laughing at my joy
smirking at the hope
Glimpses of what I thought I knew to be true
Rare pictures of what I want to be
Darkness settles
and then a tiny ray of light
Dancing around delicately
roaring in defiance
whimpering in protest
smiling with silent strength..
Always, always there
glimmering out of the wells of blackness that threaten my heart
Wondering
thinking
loving
hating
Is it possible all at once?
Do I have to feel one thing or another?
Needing
desiring
aching
wanting
How to describe this place of darkness and light
Crying
laughing
frowning
smiling
Running and yet standing my ground
Yelling out in joyous abandon
yet in the same breath wailing in sheer agony
Calling out
to some strange sense of belonging
needing to hear that call returned
Afraid to hear the sound of silence
afraid to hear the answer of your heart

[Mighty Nikkisaurus]

A poem about the cruelty, and stupidity, of humans.

Some Day

This world is filled with hate,
ran by hearts gone corrupt,
but do they cry in despair?
Are they reaching for love?
Children turn their heads,
To hide bitter tears,
The scars of the past haunting eyes,
no one to comfort most fears.
Will we continue on like nothing ever happened?
With those torn apart will we never bother?
Will we instead pretend that they don't exist-
That we don't know of those without mothers and fathers?
It's all just a shout in the dark,
Against some invisible force,
Still reality reared it's ugly head,
And here it's at our front doors.
We lose ourselves in our anger,
Return the hate with more hate,
We fight fires with flame,
Arrogantly play with our fate.
We will watch as our world crumbles,
then what will we say?
We should have made it better.
Some day.
Some day.

[Warriorbird]

From J.K Rowling to Ralph Reed.

You say that all the best fantasies are conservative.
In my mind white alligators drown in caves of ice.
You offer nothing positive only the pejorative,
as if the mere thought of magic is a vice

In my mind white alligators drown in caves of ice.
You tell me that flying free is not to be admired,
as if the mere thought of magic is a vice.
Sometimes our harsh prejudices need to be retired.

You tell me that flying free is not to be admired.
How do the purest heart-touching visions come to light?
Sometimes our harsh prejudices need to be retired.
Sometimes ceilings lift and classrooms take to flight

How do the purest heart-touching visions come to light?
You offer nothing positive only the pejorative.
Sometimes ceilings lift and classrooms take to flight.
You say all the best fantasies are conservative.

...I smile and know that isn't right.

[Mighty Nikkisaurus]

From J.K Rowling to Ralph Reed.

You say that all the best fantasies are conservative.
In my mind white alligators drown in caves of ice.
You offer nothing positive only the pejorative,
as if the mere thought of magic is a vice

In my mind white alligators drown in caves of ice.
You tell me that flying free is not to be admired,
as if the mere thought of magic is a vice.
Sometimes our harsh prejudices need to be retired.

You tell me that flying free is not to be admired.
How do the purest heart-touching visions come to light?
Sometimes our harsh prejudices need to be retired.
Sometimes ceilings lift and classrooms take to flight

How do the purest heart-touching visions come to light?
You offer nothing positive only the pejorative.
Sometimes ceilings lift and classrooms take to flight.
You say all the best fantasies are conservative.

...I smile and know that isn't right.

Hah! That's fantastically brilliant.

[peam]

10 arms of terror.
Hell rises from the water.
The squid owns this day.

[Warriorbird]

Hah! That's fantastically brilliant.

Thanks so much. I enjoy writing the occassional epistilary poem.

[Warriorbird]

bed and

sometimes in the morning I yearn for breakfast
all life's songs are running very slow
if I were not half asleep I would cavort, reckless
maybe someday we will actually know

all life's song are running very slow
and if you look hard you can see them
maybe someday we will actually know
maybe someday we will find reasons

and if you look hard you can see them
the courses are all laid out
maybe someday we will find reasons
maybe my heart will open like a spout

the courses are all laid out
as we attend to the passing of our hours
maybe my heart will open like a spout
at the commencement of intellectual prowess

as we attend to the passing of our hours
if I were not half asleep I would cavort, reckless
at the commencement of intelllectual prowess
sometimes in the morning I yearn for breakfast

[Merji]

This still has meaning..

In the memories of my past
That I cannot continue
With my present
But That's Me

I wish I could say
That my past is nothing to me
I wish that when I looked behind
I didn't feel any rage
But That's Me

I wish that when I remember
I could see the GOOD and BAD
Why is it that my memories
Are incredibly selective?
But That's Me

Once I had thought long ago
When hatred had burned out its fire
That with it went my resentment
As well as my scorn and ire
But That's Me

But I know the truth now when I see
How things from the past tend to affect me
When I try to read things that mean nothing
And all I can manage is remembering to breathe
But That's Me

I suppose the problem comes
Not so much from the events
But from the memory of pain
That never seems to die
But That's Me

I acknowledge this unwillingness to let go
I fear if I saw others I would climb into a rage
When hauntings that shouldn't bother me
Can torment my entire day
But That's Me

Why in God's name am I condemning this pain?
Why am I torturing myself?
Why can't I just embrace the agony?
Acknowledge that this is the way I feel?
But That's Me

Maybe because they destroy what is now
Maybe because the past is death of future
Maybe because I don't want anyone to know
Maybe because I am scared
But That's Me

But how long has it taken others to heal?
Others, who'd been broken before me?
And everytime I acknowledge the rage
It only goes deeper within me
But That's Me

The past is a strange and beautiful thing
It helped to create the woman I am
Sometimes I despise it, today I know
That it forged steel in fire, and now here I stand
But That's Me

I only ask for a little more time
Fear is not to be conquered so quickly
It takes a long time for fear to die
And it can only be conquered in love and forgiveness
But That's Me

So forgive these feelings I need to write
Forgive that this agony haunts my life
Forgive that it seems I'll never let go
Forgive that I need more time than I thought
But That's Me

Time will someday take all that away
But it is not time I can measure
For sometimes people we hurt on one day
Can take years before they will heal
I know that you understand this doubt and fear
I know because you have also been there
And now I beg what you once begged of me
Give me patience and time... for its not you...
It's Me.

[Merji]

Oh gentle winds 'neath moonlit skies,
Do not you hear my heartfelt cries?

Below the branches, here about,
Do not you sense my fear and doubt?
Side glistening rivers, sparkling streams,
Do not you hear my woeful screams?

Upon the meadows, touched with dew,
Do not you see my hearts a'skew?
Beneath the thousand twinkling stars,
Do not you feel my jagged scars?

Seek not my mournful heart kind breeze,
For you'll not find it 'mongst these trees.

It's scattered 'cross the moonlit skies,
Accompanied by heartfelt sighs.
It's drifting o're the gentle rain,
A symbol of my silent pain.

It's buried 'neath the meadow fair,
Conjoined with all the sorrow there.
It's lost among the stars this night,
Too far to ease my quiet fright.

No gentle winds, seek not my heart,
For simply ... it has torn apart.

[Warriorbird]

Blurred Eyes

walking backwards legs shaking
shout the bad words eyes mistaking
I miss you most at 3 AM
when I want to sink into the warm deep again
you could be any number of women
I mostly wish that you were still my friend

you could be the sweet dream of past gone day
forever gone water lover lost in spray
or the doppleganger that sent my throat bone dry
moulding me into something I wasn't, no I'm not bonsai
or you could be the one who's run past... a village's hue and cry
flame woman, wind lass (you turn!), you'll never be my

dancing bronze statue but what haunts is not warm fonts
but one who daunts leaves me supine, satisfied, gaunt
I shouldn't be admitting fault but accidents reawaken
the will unshapen the heart broken the urge retaking
make the other ones miss my clouds and rainmaking
cavort in the day, sleep at night, in the dawn and the dusk, mist taken

[Merji]

WB~~I'm really liking your way with words, brilliant.


Merji's Muse

[Warriorbird]

Thanks. Seeing your recent stuff kicked me into completing something that had been in my head for a couple days.

[Warriorbird]

East and West

In the spring, unprovoked, green dragons may sing
but the white metal tiger grips tighter and tighter
in May, it may still yet overshadow everything

White fur, black fur, both metal fiber
how hard you must work to laugh and not rust in the rain
I have trouble drying off without a fire

You have trouble drying off without the pain
of cities built on your back, filled up with silence
a world rendered black and white by stain

green dragons find organization difficult and need guidance
but Spring is a season of carefree life
tigers can not be free of cares without their violence

Autumn is a season of dimming rife
with the decomposition of leaves yet colors brightened
before an end the seasons pass and so does strife

with love and barter we trade places, hearts are lightened
I'm a black tiger you are a bronze dragon
hands are tightened...

... then we drift away.

[Daniel]

WB writes poetry

[Warriorbird]

I was nearly a creative writing major before I discovered I hated the "workshopping" process. I felt I had things to learn from professors, not the other students.

[Merji]

I was nearly a creative writing major before I discovered I hated the "workshopping" process. I felt I had things to learn from professors, not the other students.

I really do enjoy your work. Keep em comming,

Merji's Muse

[ElanthianSiren]

I was nearly a creative writing major before I discovered I hated the "workshopping" process. I felt I had things to learn from professors, not the other students.


Amen. I was never a writing major however, just someone who tended to take courses without prerequisites before the junior college I attended in hs caught on to the fact that their online registration system was screwed. Good times. I agree with Merj btw; you're quite talented. Keep posting :) .

Also, I've been curious. Don't you ever worry someone is going to steal your things? This has been my main deterrant to posting any of my novels on sites until I finish the series and can box vol 1 to an editor and publisher with 2-7 waiting to go/be sliced up/edited. My poems, I couldn't care less if anyone stole because I don't think they're that fantastic, and I don't spend much time on them.

-M

[Warriorbird]

For these? Not really. I have watching my wife's work to go by. Some of her stuff was stolen...but in such a laughably pathetic way as to be completely dismissable. My book length fiction is what I keep a tighter lid on, however, so I understand why you do.

[Merji]

A Reflection Never Lies


Starring at the mirror
a reflection reveals a past.
Love and life gone wrong
its all there; in the glass.

Where am I; who am I?
What have I become?
A stranger looks at me;
I know not where I'm from.

The mirror has the answers
the mirror cannot lie.
For there right in front of me
stands the simple reply.

For the moment I live in limbo
a place for all lost things.
Heart and soul without a home
existing now on puppet's strings.

As for who I am, I'm just a woman
living cloaked within this hell.
I'm the only one to blame
for I fell unto your spell.

I am lost...
I have no heart, you ripped it;
no feelings...I am numb.
You stole my mind
my sanity
my identity
a life...

Starring at the mirror
a reflection reveals a past.
Love and life gone wrong
its all there; in the glass

[Merji]

The pillow is cold,
my eyes filled with dew;
Alone with regrets
of me and of you.

The chair, the desk,
the picture that's framed
Leave me no relief;
They scream out your name.

The razor you left,
the shirt you forgot,
I cling close to me,
reminiscing the lot.

All the while, you've been here,
a ghost of my mind,
A phantom of love,
I can't leave behind.

The days shall pass,
the nights long and cold,
My mind in distress
of passions untold.

Away with your dreams,
soar straight to blue skies;
Ne'er shall you fall,
yet our love slowly dies.

[B4Hand]

The Knowing

Hint of a foreign perfume,
Quiet whispers on the phone...
A collection of endless lonely nights~
Of sitting at home alone.

I've been wearing a mask that smiles,
As the pain grows increasingly stronger...
I don't know if I can hold on~
To what I know in my heart much longer.

Is she just a passing fancy?
Or will she steal my world away?
Do I just sit around and wonder~
With every lonesome passing day?

I think I'll just let you go,
And let you reap what you are sowing...
Because I can survive without you~
Better than the pain of the knowing.

[B4Hand]

Power... is something you give
It is not taken

I give to you... the power
To take me
Into your world
A world full of beautiful eyes
Friendly smiles
Delicious smells
Tart tastes

I give you part of me
The part that I don’t share
The part full of trust
Of promise
Of passion

Make me see
Things I know are there
But are blind to
Bring out the best of me
Bring out the worst

Make me feel alive
Touch me with your hands
With your lips
With your soul
Mould me

Make me into what it is you desire
Make me real
Make me yours
I know you can
You have the power

[Warriorbird]

Lost

I am a shaman looking for a firelight to show me the way
in the words of a dying craft, a damaged brain,
art slipping through my fingers as I can do nothing but grasp
Asceticism actually leads to no results

In the morning I cry sometimes because I miss the night
Even if it was not reality
I loved her more than she loved me
She loved her more than she loved me
This was dangerous this was bad for me
When I am not crying I am not missing the time I was not free

I am freely enjoying a special type of extraterritoriality
Dancing oddly clad (I'm young and old) on the periphery
sighing yet there is an absence a lack of causality

Nobody wait always
We find things when we stop looking
Then we see a face that cares

[Warriorbird]

Departures

You told me once as I was leaving
that this might be my very last day
focus on my driving and my breathing
every time I ever decide to go away

It starts to rain more when I'm leaving
then whenever I'm on the job
Seen you when you're smiling
and when you're grieving on the sod-

-den grass out by the roses
whether you saw me watching or not
touched our eyelids and our noses
halfway finding the things we sought

Now we're both moving and moving
there's a wall, a reaching, a thirst
a red and yellow fire we're pursuing
I'll let you shudder on that edge first

[Warriorbird]

Rainbows

There was a statue in another country
I saw it as it stood out in the lawn
the grass was green out under it
the statue it was made of bronze

I think I fell in love with it
knew something was wrong
couldn't dance it couldn't smile
couldn't sail upon the ocean

couldn't match my motion
with another motion could not
lean in for a taste of warmth
couldn't let the yellow sun make it hot

could not could not
could not could never hoping never would
cried there on the grass myself
because maybe it should

now I'm dancing with a bunch of statues
out there upon the grass
the rain does not rust us
the sun warms us at last

[Warriorbird]

Hey Pele

you asked how you could move me
stir the burn within and let the lava
cover me and my village till they send
me out onto the volcano standing tall
dressed in white cotton and I fly into
your center fill it all up with love
sacrifice from above and then, then
we make everything the vapors
air fire water from earth

[B4Hand]

WB...just Wow. Thank you for sharing.

[Warriorbird]

Pair of Hands

up too late and stabbing into the flesh of the night
shake a bit upon waking toss a tint across the light
taking more than giving replenish by relinquishing
frequencies are frequently frantic then diminishing
Sargasso Sea sarcastic be when seeking fresh water
beyond the role you cast me in past the dirty falter
offered up like a last meal when you walked mostly out
I never doubt that when I'm with her I won't hear a shout

you don't deserve that kind of attention or composition
I'm sorry that I gave it out sorry for that reminsicing
this is more about what fits into the momentary future
not the wound not the other wound but the suture
bleak and not opened yet but prettier than grittier
bucked expectations violated rules came up wittier
dark sketches harsh words yet sunnier on the inside
carrying a gun not blade I'm not looking for The Bride

just a foil for my words the partner I was denied access
in the middle of the gang war of life going to the mattresses
gently opening not battering down the hatches untamed
rise out from the ashes ressurective force unnamed
but I get the light and words in flashes yet no phoenix
no sea trips no cave crawls no air strips free tricks
magic but not too garish I look all over for what to cherish
youth till I perish had the wedding but not the carriage

I think I want it older this time in the process of croquet
that man and woman play beneath the surface of bouquet
brandishing a pistil more than game more than just work
that turn of the head when the new passes Time's forks
we regard something more of the process not a stand
one night seven years but part of an exhibition Grand
World's Fair, today's Times Square, nothing for me to prove
just want magic love, satin smooth, groove in groove

[Vimp]

Reflections

In a moment of quiet reverie, immersed in reflections from my past,
Eclectic silent images, form tirelessly, undulate and pass,
Each telling its own unique story, each a little of experience learned,
Some tell of success and glory, whilst others of fingers burned.

One by one a lesson, each memory which I now behold,
They've prepared me for tomorrow, and whatever it may hold,
Life's wisdom each imparts, they've taught me to become wise,
They protect my bloodied heart, a sword to cut web-spun lies.

As this chaotic miasma shifts, unfurling one story after next,
A familiar face I once new, once happy, now sad, I'm vexed,
For your face is the one I see, mirrored mine, bright eyes, full of life,
It lasted all too few, you drained me. Why then did you pull your scythe?

Each day I become more immune, to that which is thrown at me,
By the wisdom that you taught, of pain, of lies and of infidelity.
You taught me the word of caution, to be careful of whom I trust,
You defined the word distortion, when I was blind of you by lust.

Don't mistake these words as regret or even consider them as sorrow,
You've forged my suit or armour, made me impervious to tomorrow,
Through pain you've made me strong, you've educated me with your lies,
For the next who would do me wrong, you've granted wisdom to my eyes.

[Vimp]

A broken cog

In the darkest hour of the darkest night, in the darkest storm upon the deepest ocean,
- This is where I am.
Embraced by the whims of the wicked maelstrom that howls - I am caught,
Caught within the clutches of that which grinds, that tears, that rends, that is relentless,
- my sails unfurled, I am broken.
I flounder. Diminished I am returned to the mercy of the swell, rise and fall,
Up.. down.. up.. down..
- a little deeper I sink.
Submerged, emerge,
This is the perfect beginning of a perfect dawn, with a perfect sunrise in a perfect place,
A beautiful horizon, a new existence,
- no squall.

[B4Hand]

Vimp...

I really love your way with words, very nice.

[Mighty Nikkisaurus]

Bond

The metal on my wrists
It is not there to bind me..
Not there to confine,
not to control me.

I know it's not because you stole it,
The reason you hold the key.
I'm sure of this as I ever was,
I gave it to you freely.

When I'm pulling on the binds
It's not that I want to be let go
I'm just assured by the pressure
In a world only you and I know.

I move the way you want me,
Not because I am in fear
But because obedience is the most precious gift
And one we both hold dear.

And when I suffer for a failure
It's never to force a way to be,
It's not abuse and I know that you
Only do it out of love for me.

When you hold my small hands in yours
And your heat is entrapping mine
I wonder at the power of our bond
A bond of a different kind.

[Mighty Nikkisaurus]

Leaves and Dreams

Fragile, dull green leaves
Curl in the hot summer sun
Their forms grow hazy
Like my dreams at night.

[B4Hand]

sometimes on a lazy day
I have sat on the sand felt the mist
cool on my skin and I’ve wondered
what shores these waves once kissed
before embracing mine
but waves never kiss and tell
and men often kiss and lie
so perhaps it’s better not to ask
about the kisses of past loves
or touches of present entanglements

in such cases ignorance is bliss
and I will flatter myself by thinking
never has the kiss of any other
affected you as mine has
though in your heart you know
the real truth of the matter
concerning kisses and lost loves
and if I should lose my resolve and ask
just kiss away my questions
with your lying lips and protest loudly
that you’ve never loved as you love me

[Doyle Hargraves]

Women


Women are sweet
And girls are honey
But beat your meat
And save your money

[Jazuela]

Woman's Poem:

Before I lay me down to sleep
I pray for a man who isn't a creep.
One who's handsome, smart and strong
One who loves to listen long.
One who thinks before he speaks
One who'll call and not wait weeks.
I pray he's gainfully employed
When I spend his cash, won't get annoyed.
Pulls out my chair and opens the door,
Massages my back and begs to do more.
Oh, send me a man who'll make love to my mind
and who knows the right answer to "Do I have a fat behind?"
I pray this man will love me to no end
And always be my very best friend.

..
..
..
..
Man's Poem:

I pray for a deaf-mute nymphomaniac with huge boobs
who owns a liquor store and a golf course. This doesn't
rhyme and I don't give a shit.

[Jazuela]

Couplets come and couplets go
like melting ice on winter snow.

Oh couplet now not bring me luck
Couplets really, really suck.

[Tisket]

Since I usually just skim random threads I missed this one entirely. Some good stuff here. Nice work.

[Ilvane]

I know I'm not the best songwriter in the world, but I thought I'd share anyway. I have a song for it too, so it's a matter of time before I actually put it down on a track.

~~~~

I see the sunlight in your eyes,
I feel the magic in your sighs..
Your heart it's beating in my head,
Your magic lights up, in your eyes.

Anything I may try to say--
Doesn't seem to come out right..
Every movement of my hands, every tiny little sigh..
Tells you some..

You hold it all there in your eyes
Somehow they show everything to me..
You hold it in your eyes,
And you don't know what you've meant to me.

(instrumental)

I see the moonlight in your eyes,
I feel your spirit haunting me--
My heart is beating in my chest,
I see the magic in your eyes..

Anything I may try to say,
Never seems to come out right,
All I wanted to say..
Please don't say goodbye..

[Stanley Burrell]

Here I sit,
Same as ever.
Took a dump,
Pulled the lever...

The toilet clogged,
The water flowed...
Look out world!
It's a motherload!

.

When I was little,
I had no friends.
I took a whizz,
On an electric fence...

It hurt so bad,
It shocked my balls!
Then I took a crap,
In my overalls.

(et al, Beavis & Butthead, 90's; Probably MTV. Basic cable, pp. 1-infinity.)

[B4Hand]

if i asked you for the moon
you would have found a way

all i ever asked for
was tenderness and respect

and you didn’t even need a ladder

i can't think of a lifetime spent
asking for little, receiving less

without my tears flowing

you would have given me
your last cent if i asked for it

but you could never afford trust

or the effort it would have taken
to know who i really am

if you had been required
to die for me

you would have bravely done so

if only you had been willing
to live for me instead

i never really needed the moon

[ElanthianSiren]

Dusk's Damask Dissertation

Unveiling aspects in rued refusal
Of conventional self-abnegation,
Fierce eyes beneath acrylic perusal
Spit acidic streams of tamed frustration.

As winking jewels smothered nether the Earth,
Restraint asphyxiates that pearly urn.
Miserly skinflint, lend your tears birth,
Lest shielding sorrow lend you no concern.

Renowned that ashlar-winged angels forgive;
To live life in death is no way to live.

[B4Hand]

I won’t fight for you
because I love time
and I won’t waste it on
your boredom
or my insecurities

because I love myself
and someone has to choose me..
I’ll be that someone

because to fight is to question
your loyalty
my importance
and our connection
and those three things are why I love us

I won’t fight for you
because to fight...
means I love you more than I should

[B4Hand]

I must now ebb
The time has come
to sail my oceans

Rolling away from you
like the waves from the shore
rippling out to the vastness of the sea
that beckons my ship of folly

I'll not ask you
to stand the night vigil
on the shoreline
of memory

You are here
on the beaches of my memory
even though I drift the tides

If you should look
into a starlit night
and see a reflection of me
know only that
I will one day
come crashing again
to the shore
swept homeward
by the pull
of the tide
and
you

[ElanthianSiren]

Try using punctuation. I know Dickinson wasn't big on it either, but it seems like it would help your flow.

-M

[B4Hand]

You entered my life like a gentle sigh,
like a quiet breeze blowing softly through the leaves.
You were a stranger first, one who laughed freely and easily,
who spoke of minor intimacies and common grounds,
which made me feel strangely liked and valued.
You became my friend, no longer a stranger,
trusting me with secrets hidden,
confiding what you liked and hated.
We talked and laughed and, as time passed by,
I grew more and more dependent upon your smile.

From strangers to friends was just a baby step,
a step a thousand others take every day.
Without your trust and trusting ways,
without your smiles and encouraging gaze,
I would never have taken the step beyond.
But the gentle breeze blowing through the leaves
is relentless and never ending.
We became closer friends, and closer still,
until much of my life was centered on the times
we spent together.

We traveled far along the path of friendship,
avoiding the bumps somehow, never stumbling,
always in step with one another.
You were my guide, my eyes and ears,
the unfailing light that lit the road before us.
Hand in hand, shoulder to shoulder,
you brought me along our course,
to a destination I had never seen before.
You became my best friend along that journey,
the anchor in my life where none had ever been.

You did a good job of guiding our steps,
a job no other could ever do,
and it wasn't your fault, really, when I stumbled.
Somewhere along our path,
perhaps where the heights were making me dizzy with joy,
I simply lost my balance and fell.
By the grace of God, I fell not to either side, nor to the rear,
but fell instead forward, along the path we'd tread.
My plunge forward was unguided, and my steps were steps you never intended.
I fell in love with you.

From strangers, to friends, to close friends, to best friends.
And beyond. Then back again:
I've never been sorry for any step we've taken together,
no, not even for the fall I took alone.
I never knew, before knowing you, how empty my life had been.
I thought I was happy. I thought I was successful.
I thought I had known love and all that love can bring.
But the gentle breeze, blowing softly through the leaves,
carries the smell of wild flowers and still wilder beasts,
and what you brought into my life can never be assessed.

We are so very different, you and I. And yet so much the same.
And our differences merge with our similarities,
giving rise to something special and unique.
We talk.
Of all the things I value about this thing that is us,
and there are so many I often lose count,
I value most the way we talk about any thing any time any where.
And each time I listen to you, each time I ponder what you've said,
I learn something new. About you. About me. About the world.
I've learned to trust in your instincts.

I love the vitality and zest that is so much a part of you.
I never would have believed the breeze, blowing softly through the leaves,
could be so filled with life.
I treasure that spark of spirit in you,
that flashing flare of fire that animates all that you do.
It's easy to see how much you love life,
even when life is sometimes less than lovable,
and that love is always mirrored in your eyes and smile.
You are never more beautiful than when that spark ignites
and your vitality blazes in your happy face.

And, yes, I love your beauty, shallow as that may sound.
I love the way your eyes change from green to gold,
the way the morning sun catches afire in your hair,
the way your nostrils move when you breathe deep breaths,
the way your tongue slips out of its safe harbor when you think deep thoughts.
I love the curve of your cheek,
the strength and power in your hands.
I love your tiny eyelashes, the brilliance of your smile,
the way your earlobes hang lower than mine.
Your beauty truly takes my breath away.

I love the way you trust in me, never quite whole hearted,
but always just enough.
That trust started as a small seed, I think,
a tentative whisper of unearned confidence,
often shrouded by a cloak of hesitation and unsurety.
I could always tell when you faltered,
when the steps we took were uncertain and questioned.
And yet still you trusted me,
with your secrets, with your feelings, with yourself.
You'll never know how much that trust has meant to me.

I love the way you understand me too well.
It's uncanny sometimes how well you know my thoughts, my feelings, my moods,
frightening at times how closely our lives have become interlinked.
You know so much of me, secrets I've never told,
thoughts I've never shared, parts of me I've never seen myself.
You've discovered a window into my being,
a window I didn't know was there,
a window no one else has ever found.
It's almost as if our two souls have merged into one,
almost as if the hand of God has repaired that which once was broken.

I love the way we have fun doing the strangest things,
or the way we can enjoy each other doing nothing at all.
We shop and walk, eat and talk,
playing games apart and united.
We study and drill, work and play,
listening to music and singing the words together.
We have fun with each other,
frolicking in our shared pleasures,
you enjoying the thrill of life,
me just enjoying you.

I'm not blinded by my love, though, and know you are not perfect.
You are impatient and easy to anger,
too intolerant when you should tolerate,
too forgiving when you shouldn't forgive.
You allow the stresses of life to mold your day,
allow the commitments of life to shape your way.
I know your imperfections as well as your perfections,
know your faults as well as your assets.
And I find I love you not in spite of those,
but as much because of them as anything else.

Your life has touched mine.
My friendship with you, my love for you,
all that you are and aren't,
have changed my life in ways you cannot fathom,
in ways I could never describe in depth.
The gentle breeze, blowing softly through the leaves,
has worked her wondrous magic,
transforming the one she touched.
I'm not the same girl I was four years ago.
I will never be that woman again.

The communication we've shared has taught me to value our honest openness,
and I know I'll never be satisfied again with less.
Your trust in me has taught me to trust in you,
knowing you will never intentionally cause me pain.
Your spark of vitality has transformed the way I see life,
giving me reason again to live and cause to celebrate.
Your beauty, both inner and outer, has renewed the wonder
with which I see the world, and has restored my sense of awe.
Even the fun we share, that senseless sense of joy,
has changed the way I live and think.

As much as you've altered my present, though,
the effect you've had on my future is just as great.
I once thought I knew what love meant to me,
once thought I had experienced all that life had to offer.
I lived and I loved, and I hurt and I grew,
and I believed I could never love again,
could never willingly face the pain of caring.
Love was a myth, I thought, and true love, lasting love,
was just a lie told by poets.
But I was wrong.

In learning to love you, I discovered I've never loved before.
Not truly. Not entirely. Not eternally.
I've spent much of my life in love with love,
searching for the fulfillment of a concept,
caring more for caring than caring for another person.
I confused lust with love, intimacy with affection.
And when those feelings waned, when the relationships died,
I wondered why I felt so empty. So hurt.
You changed that, as you've changed so much else.
You taught me how to love.

I wish you knew the me of before,
as you know so well the me of today,
so you could see the difference knowing you has made.
You've changed my life in so many ways,
in ways small and ways important,
in ways you'll never know nor understand.
The impact you've had on me,
on the way I feel and think and act,
will endure forever. Until the end of time.
Like a quiet breeze blowing softly through the leaves.

[B4Hand]

Warm green light emerges from your eyes;
I’m drenched in your ray of beauty
Satiate my soul,
Flow through my veins
Handcuff my mind;
Take me captive
I surrender,
But your heart fits too many keys
I watch in vain as a red image illuminates into view;
Your green eyes turn brown as you intertwine with this new beauty
Her body sways up and down into your wave of deception,
She locks into you
I scream;
But apathy resides
Lies streaming from your mouth roar in my ear,
Untie me
Help...
Help...
Help...

[Tymelord]

Beautiful, as always. And so sad. I get to express myself through drawing, and you get to do it with your words. I kinda envy you in that regard. Your poems are quite a bit prettier than my drawings. Heh

Tyme's soul

[ElanthianSiren]

Favillous Eidolon

Solar sky, stretching stars,
Sate shadows counting shards
On one moment's measure,
Momently measureless;
For a patient's pleasure,
Patiently pleasureless.

Sate shadows counting shards,
Sorrowful sauros shades.
Lament to late's languish,
Latently langueless.
Within war's wantonness,
Warily wantonless,

For dawn shapes their last amen,
Throwing names to winds again.

[B4Hand]

I dream of loving looks and whispered words,
Your delicious mouth lowering to mine.
Wet lips painting one another
With soft ardent brushes.
Teeth tugging between heated glides,
Nibbling every throbbing inch.
Tongues caressing tops and bottoms,
Rolling back and forth,
Dipping inside to dance.
Locked lips drinking thirstily,
Swallowing choked sighs
Upon mingled breaths…
I dream of your kiss often…

[B4Hand]

For Her
My heart is too eager
Too soft
Perhaps I give too much
Of myself
Perhaps I don't ask for
Enough in return.
My eyes see only the best
When looking at my love.
My trust is given freely.
My love flows easily
And unbidden.
In this giving of myself there is
Deep pain.
An aching sense of loss
That has no words.
No amount of tears can
Quench the thirst for answers,
And yet no answers come.
The pain lives just below the surface
Of my smile.
In an unguarded moment
It breaks across me
And my soul cracks
And bleeds.
It is almost unbearable.
Almost.
But if I live with a guarded heart
(as my friends advise)
What will I know of love?
Will it not be
A shadow of it's potential?
Will I be able to taste the
Sweetness of it's' fruit,
As well as its' bitterness
When it is not yet ripe?
Is a love that is filtered through
Judgment and fear
Worth having?
I think not.
Love that that is not freely given
That is placed with another
Only when the rules
For its' keeping have been issued,
Is pallid
Thin
And hollow.
No.
I will take the hurt
With the happiness.
I will wallow in my pain
Until it is,
In its own way,
A pleasure unto itself.
I will swallow hard
And dig deep.
I will not let my memories,
So precious too me,
Be buried by bitterness
And regret.
I will frame them
With fondness
And learning.
I will tend my own heart
With kindness.
I will kiss your cheek
In my dreams
And wish you well.
I will pause to
Breathe.
I will lift my face to the sun,
And I will love again.
With the fullness of
Heart that Spirit
Has endowed me,
I will love again.

[Warriorbird]

Intercessor

you make me want to touch and feel the world
don't listen when I say that this is not for you
through travails we sail with flags unfurled
I cut through rot with the thought you'll come through

don't listen when I say that this is not for you
I charge headlong my tread long into the night
I cut through rot with the thought you'll come through
denying the obvious one makes an end to fright

I charge headlong my tread long into the night
mornings are like goldfinches that fly by my head
denying the obvious one makes an end to fright
dark cycles to light you make me want to laze abed

mornings are like goldfinches that fly by my head
memory of what you said a mourning for your absence
dark cycles to light you make me want to laze abed
let us dance instead and deny all thought of abstinence

memory of what you said a mourning for your absence
through travails we sail with flags unfurled
let us dance instead and deny all thought of abstinence
you make me want to touch and feel the world

[Asha]

Sounds better with guitar but here's one I wrote for my best mate.


Stay.
--------
Hundreds of times ive been too tired to see
When im awake i always feel im asleep
Looking around me the faces I see are the same as when I dream
The first thing about her i try to hold on to is anything

Im wreaking havoc on my body and its not occured to me
Im displaying signs of losing it all and greeting the big sleep
Ive a million reasons I should pinch myself too hard to bear
The fog lifts from around me and Im not supprised to see, she's there.

I awake
All I've done is just take
I waste
But shes still here

Ill take this chance and scream it aloud
I've done nothing to deserve her but Ill do everything I havent just to keep her around
I was afraid to make my mind up but by God Ill do it right now
Theres no one there to stop me and there never was, I know that now
Lauren stay

[Warriorbird]

Cartography

I’m here to represent the comforting dark
You cast aside each and every obligation
I breathe insistence on the persistence of spark

No guaranteed faith when love’s writ lark
Light demystifies our nest destination
I’m here to represent the comforting dark

I’d like to travel through each National Park
You fervently represent deforestation
I breathe insistence on the persistence of spark

Not conflagration but I daresay I left my mark
You cycle and weave no care but flagellation
I’m here to represent the comforting dark

We’re left with what remains, honest and stark
The physical ghost of torrid torrent's imagination
I breathe insistence on the persistence of spark

Connections span wire bridges, arch to arc
Clasp hands and we are drawn to destinations
I’m here to represent the comforting dark
I breathe insistence on the persistence of spark

[Suppa Hobbit Mage]

Not really poetry but it's how I remember to cross myself.

Spectacles
Testicles
Wallet
Cigar

[Warriorbird]

Carnival Confetti Toss

Five flutters cast from within hand
Red, orange, gold, blue and teal
Once chased chaste white on sand
Delight followed all if not feel

Red, orange, gold, blue and teal
Could swoop and grasp each note
Delight followed all if not feel
Could nip at each trembling throat

Could swoop and grasp each note
Should divide my sing from the song
Could nip at each trembling throat
Touch is the sense that is most strong

Should divide my sing from the song
Burn my heart celebrating freedom
Touch is the sense that is most strong
Pluck or release duets but flee them

Burn my heart celebrating freedom
Left teeth on my leitmotif, me at last
Pluck or release duets but flee them
Songs of my blood flow, bleed and pass

Once chased chaste white on sand
Songs of my blood flow, bleed and pass
Five flutters cast from within hand
Left teeth on my leitmotif, me at last

[Back]

I’m actually pretty good at Haiku...

PC poetry.

How am I not astounded.

It is the PC.

[B4Hand]

You’re my ultimate transgression
You’re my greatest sin.
I’ve tried so hard to resist you
but you keep pulling me in.

And about the time I weaken
about the time I cave
You fade away and disappear
The dream that can’t be saved.

You’re my happy flight of whimsy
You caress my sleeping form
You’re phantom touch comforts me
Your presence keeps me warm.

And just as I’ve accepted you
Just as I look into your eyes.
The dream becomes a nightmare
The dream that I despise.

[B4Hand]

As time shifts forward
I begin to realize more and more
That I’m expendable
To most people
And I guess that’s okay

I notice
That sun rises on the wall
And I’m still awake and wondering
If you gradually disappear
Is your presence missed?
Is there an empty seat or an empty kiss?
Or is it an afterthought -
An inaudible overtone on the last ringing note
On the tail end of an ignored song

…But you open your eyes surrounded
In the things you used to feel.
And you beg, beg, beg
Whoever controls the atmosphere
To make the air less thick
With the things that were said
But clearly never meant
…maybe you could sleep then.

It shouldn’t matter
A glitch in the paths that cross in these lives
Small growing hopes crushed up
And thrown out with the old shells
Of things that mattered more
Before the sun set and I became
The closed door I was before

[Killer Kitten]

I suck at poetry, I can never rhyme. So I do the non-rhyming kind and pass it off as artsy. Trouble is I can never evoke any kind of mood without my silly sense of humor getting in the way.

How He Awakens Me

Soft touches rouse me from sleep,
A tickling sensation on my cheeks
A gentle nudge at first,
Then more insistent

Rough tongue and sharp teeth
That close upon my fingers in a caress
The long lanky line of his body
Beneath my hand

He arches his back,
My fingertips scratch
The length of his spine
And it happens...

Elevator butt!

[B4Hand]

Remember
How...
January craved
Attention
From sweet
Whispered
Nothings-
By icy
Glazed rivers
Golden kissed.
And fallen
Leaves:
Depleted.
They listened
To us.

Remember
How...
January slept,
And birds
Returned
Joyous:
To see
Our faces
Glowing.
And speaking
In diagrams
And listening.
And watching
Hazy butter
Clouds
Wilting.

Remember
How...
January wept,
From tapered
Memories.
As plates
Moved,
Steel mountains
Grew
And tore
Us
Apart.

Remember
How...
You forgot.
I do.

[iJin]

Good stuff.


I have lost all my ability to write poetry. :(

[B4Hand]

Good stuff.


I have lost all my ability to write poetry. :(

Thanks..and I doubt it..Post and I'll be objective :hug2:

[Caiylania]

Well, damn. I should have posted my poem here. Awesome read. Funny, emo, and serious included.

[AnticorRifling]

At the red river,
take the dirt road.

The thread should have ended here with people making T-shirts of this.

[Cephalopod]

I thought it was:
When the river runs red,
Take the dirt road.

Or in haiku:
The river runs red,
Do not despair or lose hope.
You take the dirt road.

[Mighty Nikkisaurus]

Some people may know but I write a lot of tanka and haiku. Most of my poems are that sort.

Rolling thunderheads
Open, unleashing fury.
The strikes grow silent,
Solid struck, metallic flash,
Once clearly heard, now quiet.

[B4Hand]

Some people may know but I write a lot of tanka and haiku. Most of my poems are that sort.

Rolling thunderheads
Open, unleashing fury.
The strikes grow silent,
Solid struck, metallic flash,
Once clearly heard, now quiet.

I like it very much, especially the last line!

P.S. I wish I was more adept at writting something with that much impact, in just a few lines.. I'm too full of hot air I think.

[iJin]

Just something.

There's a heavy feeling,
One that I cannot explain,
There's an empty reason,
For all that I must say,
There's an empty bed,
One that I cannot touch,
There's a pounding headache,
Remembering all the thoughts,
There's a lonely night,
Waiting for a sign,
There's a gust of wind,
Reminiscent to your sighs,
There's a fragile hand,
Waiting for something more,
There's a trick of blood,
Yearning and spilling as cold..
As the night that the raven flew,
The night that I counted on you,
The night that my dreams diminished,
The night that I left my wishes,
At the front door.

[B4Hand]

Waiting for a sign,
There's a gust of wind,
Reminiscent to your sighs,
There's a fragile hand,
Waiting for something more,


Love these lines, thank you for sharing.

[pabstblueribbon]

If you smelt it,
you dealt it.

[B4Hand]

If you smelt it,
you dealt it.



And boy did I..bleck.

[AnticorRifling]

Chicken noodle soup
Chicken noodle soup
Chicken noodle soup
With a soda on the side

[B4Hand]

I glance again
on sanguine afternoons
when I swung contentedly
under your shelter tree
leaning back
sweeping
ribbons trailing tresses
dreaming through holes
in your canopy
kissing wishes to the sky
wanting to wear clouds
on my little girl skin
when it was dew damp
and lovely
leaving toe prints
under the quiet bark
of your limbs

a time when I
believed I could fly

and you were my friend

[Stanley Burrell]

It's been twenty-two long hard years of still strugglin',
Survival got me buggin, but I'm alive on arrival,
I peep at the shape of the streets :
And stay awake to the ways of the world cause shit is deep.
A man with a dream with plans to make C.R.E.A.M.,
Which failed; I went to jail at the age of fifteen.

A young buck sellin drugs and such who never had much,
Trying to get a clutch at what I could not touch.
The court played me short, now I face incarceration,
Pacin — going up state's my destination:
Handcuffed in back of a bus, forty of us,
Life as a shorty shouldn't be so rough.

...But as the world turns I learned life is hell,
Living in the world no different from a cell.
Everyday I escape from Jakes givin chase, sellin base,
Smokin bones in the staircase.
Though I don't know why I chose to smoke sess,
I guess that’s the time when I'm not depressed...
But I'm still depressed. And I ask, "What's it worth?"
Ready to give up so I seek the Old Earth,
Who explained working hard may help you maintain,
To learn to overcome the heartaches and pain.
We got stickup kids, corrupt cops, and crack rocks and stray shots,
All on the block that stays hot,
Leave it up to me, while I be living proof,
To kick the truth to the young black youth.
But shorties're running wild smokin' sess drinkin' beer,
And ain't trying to hear what I'm kickin in they ear,
Neglected, but now, but yo, it gots to be accepted:
That what? That life is hectic.

[AnticorRifling]

Pants on the ground,
Pants on the ground,
Lookin like a fool with yo' pants on the ground

[Stanley Burrell]

Pants on the ground,
Pants on the ground,
Lookin like a fool with yo' pants on the ground

General, sir ::salute::

[4a6c1]

I have tucked you in with parentheses
and wrapped us in my
well-worn sheets;

versed in striped pajamas
we try to read
between the lines
we hold our breath and feel
each comma -
the start and stop of moving rhyme
our bed becomes a tangled mess
of adjectives
and secret verbs
and in italicized dreams our hearts
express
the silence of our words.

I dont know why but this poem completely broke my extremely literal brain. It was like a trainwreck too. I couldnt stop reading because I enjoyed the wordcraft but then I was like OMG THE ADJECTIVES DID WHAT?!! *brain esplode* :(

I really really like the one about the little girl with a tree though. It's lovely!

[B4Hand]

I dont know why but this poem completely broke my extremely literal brain. It was like a trainwreck too. I couldnt stop reading because I enjoyed the wordcraft but then I was like OMG THE ADJECTIVES DID WHAT?!! *brain esplode* :(

I really really like the one about the little girl with a tree though. It's lovely!

Yes, sorry sometimes I seem to babble in my poems. I am glad you enjoyed one however.