ForumHobbies ► Poetry
I should post some of mine here...
(please don't remove this post as superfluous, I need it to mark my place...)
I wrote a poem out of the blue last night. I don't write that often, so this is kind of a first for me. I have yet to title it. Anyway, here it is:

I am going to whisper,
so keep your voice down.
This will be soft,
not another sound.

But I can't.

It pools my mind,
stays quiet and still.
Like a small, stagnant lake,
little reason; no will.

I have to..

Listen up everyone!
This has got to be heard.
Needing to shout,
my thoughts, feelings, words.

I'm me and you're you,
not something we choose.
To better ourselves? Certainly.
But never to change our roots.

It comes out in a song,
it comes out in a rush.
Like a fast flowing river,
or the force of a push.

Battle within my mind,
I think I think too much.
Constant questions back and forth,
nothing less than a challenge.

Innocent ideas,
a fiery thought.
A forrest consumed,
a potential bird shot.

But then comes the river,
the fire dies.
Washed clean by the current,
finally they shine.

It's good to be heard.
^ that, is amazing.
Agreed sunshine, that was epic!
Thanks you guys! :) That makes me happy!
One thing I'd say is that it seems to have a lot of superfluous lines.
It's not crystallised. It's not as refined as it could be.
Yes, yes. I have the nasty habit or reiterating myself quite a bit of the time. I appreciate the feedback, though!
Okay, so I have a bit a friend wrote, feedback please?

It's only the last couple of lines, though...

"Darkness is imprisoning me,
'tis all that I am, and all I can see.
No matter what I do, try as hard as I might,
I see only darkness, not a shred of light."
I think that'd work better as a song or as a rap. There's odd line lengths, but it's still got rhymes at the end of lines.
The rain sparkles down on a moon, once so happy.
And I find myself an old man, lonely and sappy.
In moments of quiet, when I am all alone.
I day dream of places I used to call home.
Places of beauty, freedom and wealth.
Places that welcome a broken dealer of health.
But Here I am, a nothing, useless and lost.
But Here I am, worthless, an expendable cost.
So useless, I wait here for the Reaper to come;
To tear me from my body and throw me into the sun
Blue streaks will run from my throat to my chest.
Yes, my heart will be blue when they lay me to rest.

I wrote this for a project I was participating in. Trying to improve my "skills". I miss it, it was fun.
Something exists,
 Waiting, wanting,
     Asking, fearing
          To be questioned.
To be known.

Underneath the filth, the grime,
It is broken, through no fault of its

The inabilities it shows
Unless the cracks are never shown.
Haven't written a poem (or anything) in a while.

Like when your eyes cross and you see two images
Like when you hear the same song off by a second
Like when your prep sister wears a leather jacket
Like you.

You’re still wearing roses
And you smile like Keres do
But it’s frozen in time,
At odds with what I hear.

Like when your boyfriend left you
Like when you fought for the first time
Like when you can’t remember where you met
Like you.

I missed you today
When we spoke.
You never understand when I tell you
How it is I miss you.

The only sin is giving up
And you swore you’d Never change.
^ Pretty good, could use a little more work.
That was shockingly helpful.
Mailboxes drip like lamp posts
in the twisted birth canal
of the coliseum

Rim job fairy tea pots
mask the temper tantrum
oh say can you see 'um

Stuffed cabbage is the darling of the laundromat
The mouse with the overbite explained how the rabbit flight
inside the three eyed monkey
within three inches of his toaster oven
Where were you in my time of need?
When my blood fell to the grass like tiny seeds.
When my place of comfort became a sin,
And my body withered, dying within.

Where were you in my time of need?
When my tears followed those crimson seeds.
When I would lay there, just staring at the sun.
Moment lost to moments, my pain slowly undone.

And when I picked myself up and I walked away,
From my only safe haven, my one happy place.
Did you notice my sadness, my thousand yard stare?
When you'd fuss at me for the grass in my hair.

And when I walked to my room each melancholic night.
Where you aware of my body, posed rigid with fright?
And when the monster would come and hurt me again.
Where you sleeping soundly still tipsy from gin?

and When I would go to back to my meadow, my stream.
Did you miss me dear mother or just feel relief?
Roses are red.
Violets are blue.
Poetry sucks.
And so do you.

(just kidding, you're awesome :) )
Roses are red
Violets are not
I guess I don't hate you
As much as I thought.

(credits to a friend)
This one is by a friend.

Roses are red
Violets are blue
I have a knife get in the van.
Roses are red,
violets are blue.
I have chloroform,
and will abduct you!

  • and throw you in mac's closet.
There isn't much more room in there.
I know. There are way to many people in there, even after I came out. And I was only in half way.
Multiple times.
It's cool, we will just start stacking people.
I'm not good at writing poetry. :P


Light peeping through the blinds
Paints stripes on the sliver of incense
In my dark, dim room.

My finger swirls through the thread of smoke.
It caresses me, then
Becomes unwoven,
Giving rise to scores of silvery strands.

Longing, sinewy fingers reach up,
Diffusing into a hoary haze,
Specks of sunlight shimmering throughout.

I blow on the faint orange ember below.
It brightens, but, just as suddenly,

All that’s left:

Do you like the end? At first I had "All that's left is ashes," but my teacher thought this looked better.

@Antagonist: I liked the repitition.
I think that's actually pretty good, Delirious.
Two things:
1. You're suffring from the capital disease. You don't need a capital letter at the start of each line. Fix that and your lines will be much much clearer.
2. Phrases like "Becomes unwoven" really bug me because "unweaves" or "begins to unweave" etc is so much neater and doesn't sound as awkward.
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