Reincarnation of the poetry thread

[Lord Macabre]

Sad but true Dark Templar. Very effective.

[Dark Templar]

Thanks! It is kind off based on personal experienceses.

[Godslayer Jillian]

I haven't posted any of my writings in a long time here, and still I won't. I'm not sure why, but for now I don't feel I should post the poems and short stories I like.
But to keep this thread alive, I'll post one I never finished. What you'll read is not even the finished prologue of the poem I was writing, but it kept elongating itself more and more... and, in a nutshell, I hate it!
I think I don't like the rhythm of it.
But, in any case, here it is for you to read and form your opinions on why it's awful:

The divine sisters have always been
Before all virtue, before all sin
Dancing joyful in eternity
The three was all and all was the three

Love, the eldest, beautiful in red
Ever silent, for nothing need be said
Prancing with the divine sisters two
When the dance was over, she’d lead anew

Thought, ceremoniously clad in blue
Ever doubting of what’s not and whats true
Treaded careful with the other two
Skeptical of those two sisters she knew

Life, lighthearted and jovial in green
Ever simple, cherishing her routine
Of strutting along her sisters two
Cherishing, fonding the steps old and new

Dancing and dancing, dancing around
Meaningless dances like songs without sound
.........

And that's it. I can't finish it because I don't like how it began.

[cradle]

Oh shit,
I think I drank some bad milk.
when was the last time,
you ate some bad silk.


My latist of my poetry collection.

[HumanePain]

Originally Posted by Godslayer Jillian

I haven't posted any of my writings in a long time here, and still I won't. I'm not sure why, but for now I don't feel I should post the poems and short stories I like.
But to keep this thread alive, I'll post one I never finished. What you'll read is not even the finished prologue of the poem I was writing, but it kept elongating itself more and more... and, in a nutshell, I hate it!
I think I don't like the rhythm of it.
But, in any case, here it is for you to read and form your opinions on why it's awful:

The divine sisters have always been
Before all virtue, before all sin
Dancing joyful in eternity
The three was all and all was the three

Love, the eldest, beautiful in red
Ever silent, for nothing need be said
Prancing with the divine sisters two
When the dance was over, she’d lead anew

Thought, ceremoniously clad in blue
Ever doubting of what’s not and whats true
Treaded careful with the other two
Skeptical of those two sisters she knew

Life, lighthearted and jovial in green
Ever simple, cherishing her routine
Of strutting along her sisters two
Cherishing, fonding the steps old and new

Dancing and dancing, dancing around
Meaningless dances like songs without sound
.........

And that's it. I can't finish it because I don't like how it began.

AWESOME! I loved the flowery symbolism!!!

[Dark Templar]

So many years ago,
So many more than I’d even care,
To look back upon and se,
Just how happy we where and how I found you!

I had never seen such a beauty,
Not in this world or in the next.

Without you in my arms I cod not rest!

But one night,
Full moon shone upon us,
Your kiss sealed both of our fates!

All I cod see,
Your beautiful eyes,
Lit a fire on the crimson sky!

Oh your pretty face seduced me,
Blinded me from how you used me!

The darkness of your mind cast a shadow between us,
It was the love that’s meant to fade away,
But once again, your shadow enters my life!

[raggedyanne]

Very nice! Here's one of mine that I wrote for my sister . . .

fly on the back of a dragon
arms raised with nary a care
gallop upon a silver unicorn
with daffodils adorning your hair
sweep through the skies with a griffon
relishing in the power of flight
explore the world with a oracle
utilizing her second sight
dream on the tail of a genie
going wherever you wish
sail the seas with the leviathan
see the underwater view of the fish
crisscross the ocean with pirates
cutlass and courage in hand
let your mind wander with the tide
rest you head on the white sand

[Tin_Lizzie]

When a man looks at a woman
he thinks what she would be like
to be with.
How she would move under him
responding to his rough touch
all the warm soft moist places
of her body.

When a woman looks at a man
she imagines what he would be like
to be with.
How he would smile at her over breakfast
apologize for stealing the covers
all the warm soft comforting places
of his heart.

[HumanePain]

Originally Posted by raggedyanne

Very nice! Here's one of mine that I wrote for my sister . . .

fly on the back of a dragon
arms raised with nary a care
gallop upon a silver unicorn
with daffodils adorning your hair
sweep through the skies with a griffon
relishing in the power of flight
explore the world with a oracle
utilizing her second sight
dream on the tail of a genie
going wherever you wish
sail the seas with the leviathan
see the underwater view of the fish
crisscross the ocean with pirates
cutlass and courage in hand
let your mind wander with the tide
rest you head on the white sand

Aw, I liked this one! I am printing it out to give to my niece who turned 11 last week. Of course I will give you full credit. Thank you for posting it!

[Mir]

What are dreams, whence do they come,
Are they significant or are they just,
Pale reflections of our lives awake,

Whilst dreaming I have received, many a blow,
Yet felt no pain so why do I awake,
Disquieted and in mental anguish, I wonder,

Perhaps they leave us with glimpses of,
Our inner being unfulfilled, maybe they,
Transmute to the physical plane and likewise,

How little we know of the cosmic reality,
Of time and space, of our mental capacity,
Of our real self, is this all an illusion? I wonder.

[Vyvian Blackthorne]

It was an actual question, but since you took it so offensively it telegraphs your insecurities. I never called myself goth, and I never called myself a senior member. In fact, I'd say I am none of those things. I give myself no titles.

Wow. You do seem preachy, even for your own age. Which, I'd expect, would be around 22. No offense though.

[Dark Templar]

Originally Posted by Mir

What are dreams, whence do they come,
Are they significant or are they just,
Pale reflections of our lives awake,

Whilst dreaming I have received, many a blow,
Yet felt no pain so why do I awake,
Disquieted and in mental anguish, I wonder,

Perhaps they leave us with glimpses of,
Our inner being unfulfilled, maybe they,
Transmute to the physical plane and likewise,

How little we know of the cosmic reality,
Of time and space, of our mental capacity,
Of our real self, is this all an illusion? I wonder.

That was strong! It really touched my hart *wipes away a tear*

[HumanePain]

Originally Posted by Mir

What are dreams, whence do they come,
Are they significant or are they just,
Pale reflections of our lives awake,

Whilst dreaming I have received, many a blow,
Yet felt no pain so why do I awake,
Disquieted and in mental anguish, I wonder,

Perhaps they leave us with glimpses of,
Our inner being unfulfilled, maybe they,
Transmute to the physical plane and likewise,

How little we know of the cosmic reality,
Of time and space, of our mental capacity,
Of our real self, is this all an illusion? I wonder.

Ah, it's about time you graced us again with your worded wizardry!
(takes a deep breath as if smelling orange blossoms and fondly recalls the LostAndCrazy days...)

[Mir]

haha thanks, its not a poem though, just random musings.

[raggedyanne]

your random musings are awsome! Care to donate some brain power?
I wrote a poem in class, but my teacher took it and told me to get back to work. It now hangs behind her desk as a "tribute to her great teaching skills", says she.

I wrote a poem today
but my teacher took it away
now it's up on the wall
I do hope it will fall
I can't bare to hear what they'll say

[cradle]

As I walk here,
In this desert of grey,
striking drum beats,
off rythms they play.

This sight came to me,
right before my eyes,
a mirror-like image
of all of my cries.

Cold as death,
heat it lacks.
The sand slate grey,
the sky pitch black,



And the heavens rained one thousand angels' tears,
burning the flesh of man.
Turning their bones to sand.

Even angel's
tears can fall down.
Some angels have demons,
somewhere around,

[cradle]

thanks for the critiques, I'll take the silence as if it sucked too much to say anything.

Bwaaahhhhhhhhhhhhh

[cradle]

Oh, flytrap of imperfections,
I give you my embrace,
the last of my confections.

If only you knew,
if only you knew.

Your pain,
it talks to me.
Your heart,
it flocks to me.

Flinging our hearts into the sea,
Why have you come to me?

Bashing out the brains of beuty,
what have we become?

[HumanePain]

Awesome cradle. I just can't always respond right away though, especially when I'm on my arthritis meds. But yeah, always liked your style of writing, and your themes. The desert of grey especially.
Write on dude.

[cradle]

haha, no problem.
I wasn't trying to be all "everyone hates me" Just trying to get some attention. xD

[maggot]

Alright. This poem is a Shakespearean sonnet. The iambics may be incorrect.

It's about a place in my state. I can't remember the city it's in, though. ><

"More beautiful than the fairest maid,
She lays host upon the hand of granite.
To me, her wilderness always bade;
She resembles another planet.

The tides rise up and renew her flesh
Made up from layers of crabs, 'weeds and gulls.
Every 12 hours, she is made fresh
With a coat of clam and scallop hulls.

Piles of granite from bygone quarries,
her muscles forged by past generations.
Some traversals yield in vast quandaries
as to get back to entrance stations.

I think the name of this place is due;
It's Halibut Point, known for its view."




I turned this in for an assignment, and my teacher left a really nice not saying "I love how you take risks with language in this poem ("bade", "quandaries") and what's surprising to me is that you are a Romantic who draws his inspiration from the beauties of the natural world! Well done!"

He also said he'd submit it to "Reflections", which is the school's literary book.

[HumanePain]

That was amazing Mag!

[maggot]

Thank you!

[Godslayer Jillian]

I don't think I have posted this one yet.
We were reading Content, by Thomas Dekker in our English class, and we had to write our own poem about Content. Content in this case means contentment:


Content
“You, Epicurean that squanders life,
You that lives for pleasure and nothing more
Take all of my possessions which are rife
You’ll find that you’re no richer than before”
Said the ascetic monk to the gourmand
Who gaily found his holdings at expand

The epicurean bought a stable
He raised graceful mares and marvelous steeds
Exquisite foods overwhelmed his table
Ample for his and his family’s needs
His riches and joys reached high as the skies
While the ascetic monk of hunger dies.

[HumanePain]

Ah, so relevant a portrayal of materialism in a glorious sense! Love it Jillian.