Post a poem...........

[literal visionary]

Post your poem, post a poem, or just something you wrote,
you can also criticize people I guess..........

Heres Mine:

Dear friends departed perforce,
those that have left or are to leave,
sad thoughts my mind does not endorse,
so do not expect to look down and see me grieve,
So when you exit weary and tired,
expect me to remember you with glee,
all those of you who in life we admired,
you will not find the branches of
bereavement entangled with me,
I will always celebrate your virtue,
and always remember you fondly with love,
in warmth I shall say adieu,
and once in a while see a twinkle and look
for you in the stars above,
For this is not the end- this is not goodbye,
we will both see each other again, so why on earth would I cry?

Copyright ©2006

I dont think its very original, but hey
you have to read it a few times to get the rhyme I think...

 

[Buttons*]

I'll put one! Okay, disclaimer: i wrote this when I was 15... *blushes* So if it sucks.. that's why....

Can no one honestly call themselves sane?
Can’t you see the peace within the pouring rain?
Why don’t we take time to truly listen?
The world today is in such sad condition,

However, the past which repeats, must have past,
And things left to the last, are now into the fast,
So in constant circles we are turning, and racing,
The circle of inner truth is the one to be pacing,

But what is truth through all the living lies,
Yet everything living eventually dies,
I can’t tell anyone what they need,
My truth is mine alone, this my creed,

Truth and time are like rhythm and rhyme,
But the steady pulse suppressed so to hide,
And since no one can hear, they don’t listen,
This world today, and always, in this condition,

Time continues, whether liked or not,
Fate is cruel, and fate is not,
And fate does not exist in the midst,
Time does not stop in the fog and mist,

People easily lead and now drowning,
To the dark powers on all fours and crawling,
Persecuting what they don’t understand,
Not instead trying to offer a saving hand,

Hypocrites with accusations flying,
And countless lives all the while dying,
God forbid they would have to listen,
It’s not them that caused the worlds condition,

People everywhere and all around,
And I have to block out the hellish sound,
However there is no hell, and no heaven,
No easy explanation made, no safe haven,

Death frightening none the less,
No one truly knows, and causes duress,
Nothing after six underground,
No one can hear you; no one makes a sound,

They all think they know all about all,
But really they know about nothing at all,
No one takes the time to listen,
And so the world is such in condition,

Is life worth living is a question that all ask,
Do you suppose it is if life is lived behind a mask?
Brief moments arise when you will understand,
The time of remembering is such at hand,

As hard as one tries to explain the complexities,
If for a closer look, these problems solved with ease,
And some too easy for the complex mind,
This is why so many are often left behind,

And only a few that truly want to see,
And think of what this world could be,
Such a shame that no one listens,
So the world will stay in this condition

If you will try to interpret what I mean,
And to each his own in this scheme,
But looking into someone’s mind,
Is in itself hard to find,

So go on ahead and try if you must,
Someday I will only be ashes and dust,
This poem no one ever will read,
The way that it was meant to be,

I leave to you just one more thought,
An idea that’s already been taught,
That someday, someone, will care to listen,
Until then this world stays in such sad condition.

​

 

[Mister Emu]

Sunlight shines down to
Ground through Autumns painted leaves
Cool wind blows along

 

[jeffrey]

The sun kisses the morning sky.... The bee kisses the butterfly.... The dew kisses the morning grass.... And you, my friend can kiss...... Never mind.

 

[standing_alone]

I guess I can post another one of my crappy poems. This is even worse than the last one, so brace yourselves. Oh, and sorry everybody. Oh, and any criticism welcome (the more brutal the better). It was supposed to be all metaphorical and symbolic and such, but nobody got it, so I guess it's just a literal poem now. Here goes:


Reflections on Being Lost in a Cemetery on a Cold Autumn Night

I stumble through the rows of graves,
Lost in the cemetery
On a cold autumn night.
My feet press down on the hardened earth,
Where six-feet under sole,
A rotting body lies,
Surely by now, disfigured.
The biting wind whistles a defying melody,
With decaying matter on its breath,
Letting escape every now and then,
A most garish and ghastly guffaw.
The amber stars stare down forebodingly
At the battered tombstones below,
While the tall strong oaks raise up their arms,
Shielding the stones under a vast ebony blanket.
I, myself, am covered by this cloth,
Wrapped up with all the dead,
The fabric swathes around my eyes,
Blinding me as I continue to
Stumble through the graves.



I can't believe I posted another on of these. And one that's even worse than the last.

 

[Booko]

The Ballad of the Little Sheep That Went to Heaven to Be the Pet of the Poet Laureate of England

Wilholme was Felix undersea
Aboard his yellow pleasure-boat.
He called for women, spice, and wine,
And sodomized a goat.

So tumbling through the fish-fraught waves,
"What, ho!" the boastful Felix cried,
"A toast to goats that bleat and float;
They're such a soggy ride."

So floundered he beneath the sea
Till William Wordsworth judgement sent:
"For desecrating blithesome goats,
Your boat shall be to-rent."

So sent he searing lightning bolts
Which tickled did an octasquid;
This sent a tentacle to snatch
At Felix' favorite kid.

So with its octa-arms it squished
The submarine of Felix' joy;
Felix gripped a lamb to his loins
And used it as a buoy.

So Neptune saw this sight, and laughed,
And dashed a wave on Felix' head;
This Wordsworth saw, and seeing, smiled,
The better comforted.

So Felix then an island spied
And sought to run himself aground.
Gripping his sheep he came ashore
Although unethe he drowned.

So giving thanks for isle and sheep
To knees the weary Felix fell.
He vowed, "I'll honor Wordsworth now,
And treat my bleaters well."

 

[Booko]

The sun kisses the morning sky.... The bee kisses the butterfly.... The dew kisses the morning grass.... And you, my friend can kiss...... Never mind.

And I was waiting for you to post the limerick about the lady from Venus.

 

[literal visionary]

And sodomized a goat.

What the heck

Im afraid

 

[literal visionary]

I can't believe I posted another on of these. And one that's even worse than the last.

I think its great,
no matter what it will always be better than this one:

And sodomized a goat.

 

[Booko]

What the heck

Im afraid

Hi LV...you know what they say about be careful what you ask for.

But tell me, d'ya think the form of the poem reflects romantic forms pretty well?

 

[Booko]

re: goats

I think its great,
no matter what it will always be better than this one:

Better? Surely you didn't imagine all poetry had to be serious?

This one was the result of a long night, ended by someone's comment, "Australia, where the men are men and the sheep are nervous."

And then off we went from there.

Not to worry, you may well have that college experience some day. I don't mean the academic part. That's not the most important anyway.

 

[Booko]

It seems these days poetry has gotten so ethereal and obscure as to be, well, not generally of much use.

But it's my observation that whenever academics try to keep poetry to themselves, the people will *always* take it back.

For the most obvious example of that today, look at the rise of rap, or as the politically correct term goes "hip hop."

Like everything else in life, 90% of it is crap. But the other 10% is worth an ear.

Well, enough musings. I must to sleep, lest I start sending pix of people in fruit costumes up again...

 

[literal visionary]

"Australia, where the men are men and the sheep are nervous."

I thought that was scotland

Not to worry, you may well have that college experience some day. I don't mean the academic part. That's not the most important anyway.

what are you trying to say here? ewww

 

[Booko]

I thought that was scotland

That's the original version, yes, but there are others.

what are you trying to say here? ewww

That college, like travel, has the potential to broaden the mind?

And no, we had no sheep at school. We went pheasant hunting a few times, but we just cooked them for dinner.

 

[Master Vigil]

Dan Bernardo
The Wooded Hutch

It boils in the light,
I feel the moonlit power grow.
It cries into the night,
The blood so ravingly does flow.

Its hunger finds its way
into the most insane of minds.
The spirits do not sway
to their own odd and arcane kind.

The wooded dreams do run
throughout my hazy darkened mind.
Come, come in and see.
Please come and see if you can find.

Do seek me, I will hide,
Far deep inside the lonely woods.
Do seek me, I won’t mind,
it’s time, you know how much you should.

I’m here, no there I am!
I’m under here, and over there?
Please follow; See you can!
What do you hear in there my dear?

Some wailing? Yes it’s there.
A cry, a moan? Yes they are too.
A lot to fear in here
my dear, and much that’s left to do.

You stepped and broke the glass.
Oh no! There’s water where it lay.
Your sinking oh so fast!
You’d better hurry! Get away!

There is the bank, it’s close.
Don’t slip, and grab it quick! It’s there!
Do rush, the water rose!
And those who help do not but stare.

You’re out! But where is here?
The vines are getting close my dear.
Don’t fight, don’t fret in here.
Those lights are really there, I swear!

"What next?" The vines do ask.
They like you, soft is how they touch.
The cold, it comes so fast.
Please do not struggle, not so much.

The lights will fade in time.
They’re really meant to, it’s alright.
Oh let them die, it’s fine.
At least you’re liked, oh please don’t fight.

The fear will pass my dear.
The pain? It soon will also fade.
At home you are my dear.
It’s just as I have always said.

The stars died out? Oh well.
Then nothing left is there to fear.
The voices stopped as well.
So nothing left is there to hear.

The vines do like you, yes.
They always liked you oh so much.
They’ll keep you here, oh yes.
Inside the dreaded wooded hutch.

 

[Stick of Joseph]

Just a few little things I have done In school. I have always loved poetry. It allows me to express true feelings.
​

The Patient Man

I have anger just like you
but choose to have a different view
the tampering of my mind does not go without retribution
I choose, rather than fight, to make an illusion
Delay, unknown to many, can have a driving force.
It allows me to attack the problem at the source
Confronting one who’s drive is anger
does present a certain danger
I am encouraged by friends to give a hit
but they are unaware to where I sit
Violence does not always need to be.
Alternatives could destroy boundaries some could never see.
How can anyone know what’s behind my plan
Behind the fury of the patient man.
​

 

[Stick of Joseph]

How depressing.:sad::sad4:
​

Make it Real

The high of life is here, but the low is nigh
I am an optimist upbeat but I lie
Thinking positive thoughts constantly intrude
but fear catches on, and begins to delude.

I look on, chin high into this uncertain shade,
but my dreams begin and my goal turns and fades
I have talents, aspirations, hopes of power.
I see my triumphs that continue to shower.

But I feel neglected and forgotten through my smile
I’m always to help, first to come, but I live in denial
Turned aside by ones I called brothers
confused, shocked, shamed and alone I find no other.

I want power love and success
but so many times Im made to feel less
Give me your care, but make it sincere
I know lies well enough for a career

I cannot withstand, I am on the brink
Give me an arm, I don’t want to sink
I look at my doors and they begin to seal
Give me hope, guard me, but make it real.
​

 

[Circle_One]

Saddest Moon
Written when I was about 14 or 15 (ten years ago).

O Saddest Moon,
How I hear you weep,
With the bright orange comets,
Dangling at your feet.

O Saddest Moon,
With the stars in your eyes,
If I ask you the questions,
Will you give the replies?

O Saddest Moon,
Why so sad?
Because your lover left you,
With all the pain that you had.

O Saddest Moon,
My love for you shows,
And each time I see you,
My love for you grows.

O Saddest Moon,
I'll call out to you soon,
But you'll never answer,
My Sweet Saddest Moon.

 

[Majikthise]

From my mother's sleep I fell into the State
And I hunched in it's belly till my wet fur froze
Six miles from Earth loosed from it's dream of life
I woke to black flack and the nightmare fighters
When I died they washed me out of the turret with a hose


Randall Jarrell

 

[tfp(-*-)]

this is Something I wrote a few years back.

Winter moon in the revolving skies.
Midsummer sunrise between my eyes.
Old man wandering, old man dies.
life's ellusive truth arise.