OFFICAL POETRY THREAD (and anyting else about relationships)

Sterling Morrison · March 22, 2003

Poetry eh...

The_Markman · March 22, 2003

I can make up a poem real quick. Dawn has come now it'll be duskQuiet souls seek shelter to avoid the muskIt comes through the walls that lazyness builtThe souls have perished without guilt---------Poem 2Come to a post in a deserted landI'll show you one of my fingers from my handI'll take you down the streetWhere me and Caroline used to meetWe'll cross the tracks into the revineThen get naked and make a scene---------German PoemBald kam der Clown und er war sehr böseEr aß ein Zwerg und dann eine SeelöweEr sah eine Frau und war er ausgewurzeltAber das machte er nix und zerstörte er die Welt! :wink:

BulletFace · March 22, 2003

heres a poem by margs its called: I KnowI Now Know,Why when I was told to forget, I didn'tWhen the oppresion of "friends" held me back, I pushed forth for whom I knew was better than the rest.I Have Always Known,Why I defended you against the people who would have me turn in other directions and led me astray.For what reason seeing you smile brings me peace and happiness.That which has brought a smile to face, 'twas closer than I realizedI Hope To Know,That which I can do to even hope to be what she needs...What I can do to right the wrongs I once blindly set upon doing...The things I must do, to some day, in time, win her heart....isnt it a great poem?

AlaraphonAMD · March 22, 2003

I have too many to put here so I'll give my poetry journalhttp://drmagoo18.easyjournal.com

Random · March 22, 2003

-Jedi Kywalker] I think english is not built for poetry.

Then please explain the works of such people as Shakespere,Robert Frost,Tenneson,Poe,ect.? were they just lucky? :roll:

Random · March 22, 2003

-Jedi Kywalker]

Then please explain the works of such people as Shakespere,Robert Frost,Tenneson,Poe,ect.? were they just lucky? :roll:yeah and what about langston hughes?Never heard of them...

Besides they used different english, antique. Today the language is very strict when it comes to structures. They didnt have such a bond...so iambic pentameter isnt structural?PFFT!gimme a brake :? wow thats quite a quote stack.... 8)

Random · March 22, 2003

so anyway this girl that im completely infatuated with called me at 4:59 in the morning and woke me up.....

The sad part is that i didnt mind bec it was her :shock: Somone should write a poem about that :wink:

The_Markman · March 23, 2003

Lots of people think i'm crazy now. HEHEAhha hheh ahheahhh e C'mon my poems rule! The only "poetic rules" I use are "rhyming!" :wink: Combine that with creativity, and you can make up some wierd crap! I learned a lot of British poets did a lot of opium when writing their poems. Take Brit-Lit in Highschool, you'll learn all about it. :roll: (verryyy borring) ------------------This one's not that good but hey who caresThru the grass the wind blows slowyInto my hair it is flowingStopping the peace a Canadian Goose cameIt's irratant honking made me insaneWhile never showing any signs of stoppingOnto the earth it presented it's droppingsOnto the earth there lay a rockWhen projected to the goose he was in shockHis tounge of black came out in angerHe lifted his wings and was struck by a Ford Ranger

Random · March 23, 2003

so who gona take my poetry commission?no one....oh well

Random · March 24, 2003

i would still like to see one of your poems Jedi,even though it dosent translate properly.And its beyond my comprehension

,but i think it would be very intresting to see a different perspective.And I am impresed that you went to the root definition of the english term "iambic pentameter" but perhaps out of context?As for your intellgence i have never doubted it. You seem a very capable and knowledgeable person.

BornToDie1955 · March 24, 2003

I see there is many artists here too... Nice to make a happy earth...Egidio.

Wraith · March 30, 2003

These were for my first love, who turned out to be the Whore of Babylon, and broke my heart. *sniffle* Anyway.

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As I Lay Here

As I lay here,

I cry.

I cry over the hope shattered, I cry for the dream crushed, I cry because of the truth realized.

But more than that, I cry because you've moved on.

As I lay here,

I remember.

I remember the guy you hid with behind the speakers, I remember the one you spoke about on the phone, I remember the feeling of you in my arms.

But more than that, I remember what I had before and lost.

As I lay here,

I realize.

I realize that I f*cked up somewhere, I realize that you were my first true love, I realize that this is my first real heartbreak.

But more than that, I realize that you no longer love me the same way I loved you and probably never did.

As I lay here,

I listen.

I listen to the songs that embody my feelings now, I listen to the lyrics that can only vaguely attempt to convey the depth of my loss, I listen to the words as they appear on the screen.

But more than that, I listen to the voice in my head telling me I never should have let it get to this point.

As I lay here,

I wonder.

I wonder if you'll ever read this, I wonder if I have the strength to get over it, I wonder if it even matters.

But more than that I wonder if we can ever really be friends again knowing what's between us.

As I lay here,

I know.

I know you'll never fully understand what I've gone through, I know the relationship was always deeper for me from the get-go, I know it was still the sweetest thing I'd ever known.

But more than that, I know I can never forget.

As I lay here,

I cry.

I cry over the hope shattered, I cry for the dream crushed, I cry because of the truth realized.

But more than that, I cry because you've moved on.

Reaching

I reach out.

The desire to touch, taste, feel, smell, to Love:

And yet as far as my grasp extends,

I can't get the point. So

I reach out.

Memories Surface. What once was.

Hope Appears. What might have been.

Reality Intrudes. What is now, and despite it all

I reach out.

My heart sings my torment,

My soul remembers my joy,

My mind accepts my loss, and yet

I reach out.

I hear your voice.

I see your face.

I taste your lips.

I sense the love lost and all that I can no longer have, yet still

I reach out.

Barely breathing,

Rage seething,

Seeing, not believing, no matter.

I reach out.

I want to gaze into your eyes and know your thoughts.

I want to grow within your heart and know your feelings.

I want to wander in your mind and know your desires. But no. So

I reach out.

I grasp, I flail, I clutch, I slip,

I feel, I care, I hurt, I cry,

I cling, I hope, I ask, I love.

I, I, I, I

I reach out.

How much more can I take?

Who wins here?

What else can I do?

I reach out.

But you're not there.

You've moved on. I can't.

My hands, my heart, my mind, they come back empty.

Windows

The eyes are windows to the soul.

I gazed into yours once and saw the wonder in those obsidian pools.

I look in the mirror and see the dusty reflection in my bloodshot eyes.

The husk of what we were, of what I was when I was with you.

God, I could have sat there for hours and stared, oblivious to the outside world.

Our eyes were the same.

Without yours mine grew; lighter, duller, drier.

Empty from the tears I shed, the heartache I bled.

I poured my heart and soul out to you and you took it all and left.

I can't blame you. I was reckless. Too content with what I had, I acted on impulse.

I was blind to the pain I caused, with only a score of half-assed apologies in return.

Your vision must have been aquiline from the response I got, the tenfold payback.

My soul now an empty vessel, my eyes lack the luster they once had.

Seeing you again rekindled the briefest of sparks, a drop in the vessel.

Hearing you afterwards banked the tiniest of flames, an icy wind in the air.

Your souls windows must be clearer than crystal, with the happiness you found apart from me.

While mine are caked and encrusted with the patina of ten thousand tears,

One salty drop for every moment of the day I've thought about you.

The weight of it all finally broke the panes.

I cried a river but the bed runs dry now.

My soul is empty, the heartbreak final.

I needed to know the truth but it hurt more than I could ever imagine.

It's what I deserved though.

The stones breaking the windows, breaking my heart.

But what I wouldn't give for the windows to be boarded up.

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Yea. I'm an amateur, I don't think there's too much there by way of structure, especially in the last one. But I've been told they work.

Thoughts and critique are appreciated.

Wraith · March 30, 2003