(Post Your) Incredible Poems (Here!)

[!]

another one of mine. this one puts me in a comforting place evey time I read it, for that is the objective.

An overwhelming tranquility

I share a gaze with the moon,
its radiance almost dull in contrast to the sun.
I close my eyes and feel the sun sink behind me,
its distant tails of flame alighting my bare arms,
a memory of the scorching day.

The fiery residues trace along the clouds,
following the curves of the roiling cumulus.
Throughout the fading sky, through the cloudy gaps,
twinkle shifting stars in myriad orange, blue, white,
a testament to much more than another tomorrow.

A warm breeze gently flows,
like a salve along my reddened skin.
The sound of waves crashing soothes my ears,
a mist off the ocean makes for a sweet breath,
an overwhelming tranquility.

I embrace this moment,
this fleeting instant,
a wishful eternity.

[pollywog]

I'll wander the world
when I'm older.
I'm waiting for a chance
then I'll just go.
Sitting in a bar in florence
then off into the night.

Uncaring, free
best way to be
Great sandy beaches
stony cliffs, turgid rivers
filled with crocodiles and
piranhas and man-eating eels,
are not obstacles to be overcome,
merely miracles to be marvelled at.

And of the mere miracles in the world,
the one I care most to see, is five fat kereru
sitting in a kowhai tree.


Sorry, it doesn't translate very well.

[Spot]

I've got an okay poem.
-----------------------------
Chip’s Quest of asdf





Chip looked on, horrified and shocked
At the lifeless corpses of Mr. Sanders’s livestock
“This disease that killed them, it spreads really quick
Someone must find a cure before the entire village gets sick.â€

[TheTankengine]

While I pride myself on an above average sense of lexicography, I fear I lack the poet's touch. The touch that seems to make simple words dance about in their own merry little way. However, I do have a metaphorical and tremendous tidal wave of emotion coursing and crashing through my proverbial heart. I hear poetry is good for that kind of thing. Let's see what I can come up with. I'm creating this on the fly, so what do you think?

---

Code: Select all

Her beauty is in the stars
her beauty glows from the sun

There is an element amiss
         it lacks nothing except existence
If only I could crack this code
 if only this puzzle could be solved

Her smile can light the darkest of souls
  her kiss can melt the coldest of lips

The wall has stood the test of time
   keeping all the world at bay
For if none can breach the gates
                no more pain shall come

Her hastened breath heats my neck
  her grip grows tight in ecstasy

The will of some can not be swayed
and none are granted the key to change
That strength makes its mark upon this world
   for all to see, however fleeting this universe may be

Her eyes, lips, ears, skin, hands, wit and laugh
     Beauty emanates

---


Though this place is full of confusion
twirling, dancing, popping --
chaos and order bely a most intricate and beautiful path.

Something needs to make sense
floating, flowing, fleeting ---
knowledge is a fickle friend

Passion can consume even the sun
should this passion be True and Just
None can stand in the way
only tacked to the teeming, torrid trellis of Truth

[thecommabandit]

I really liked the first one Tank (Can I call you Tank? ). The second one is great too, but I think the word 'popping' just doesn't fit well. Also, I think the alliteration in the last line is a bit excessive.

At the risk of sounding arrogant, I think I can just about pin down the use of simple words to create vivid imagery. Not that many people see my poems...


As these orbs dance,
To the unheard melody of Creation,
Sung far beyond our comprehension,
By those celestial.

Dancing through the Void,
Watched by distant Gods,
Caressed by barren light,
Trapped by the laws.

They swing,
and they circle
and they never stop.

Our failure and our folly,
Our efforts and our empires,
Are as whispers in the dark.

All our joys, and all our sorrows,
Ring silent in their domain.

The orbs dance on.

(You get +1 perception if you can tell me what it's about)

Fire that Lucifer would envy.
Jets of light the angels would covet.
Fiery cord, clung tight to his bride.
Bride dances, her partner Abyss.
Eventually unite, in dark, in atom.
Without her, he wails to hostile quiet.
No more destruction, no fire, no light.
In dark and in cold, neither angel nor demon does yearn;
His beauty in destruction.

(This time you get +100 if you get it right)

[bbctol]

A short bit of nothing I whipped up a while back when I was bored

THE WAVE
HERE COMES THE FLOOD
it's a small world
where everyone knows each other
everyone knows everything
everything's everywhere for everyone to read
THE WAVE
HERE COMES THE FLOOD
everything is everything else
everyone is everyone else
THE WAVE
everything is text
text
people, names
pictures
movies, hell,
thoughts, feelings, just little pulses of little chemicals published for everyone to read
long list of text
here's your 2.7% increase in this hormone, sir, after your world was torn apart
your genes are just letters
HERE COMES THE FLOOD
everyone can read all the text of all the people
they are text
we are text
we are all the same piece of text, a long column of numbers and dates and names and places and thoughts and long-lost lovers and jealous husbands and happy happy brides
happier by 5.6% more than usual
THE WAVE
HERE COMES THE FLOOD
it's a small world
we're all one thing
and if one of us dies
THE WAVE
if something comes along that can kill us all
there's no hope for any of us
because there's only one of us
HERE COMES THE FLOOD

[TheTankengine]

I really liked the first one Tank (Can I call you Tank? ). The second one is great too, but I think the word 'popping' just doesn't fit well. Also, I think the alliteration in the last line is a bit excessive.

Thank you! (and yes, you can) I agree about the second one. I didn't edit it or anything, just wrote it straight into the post, so I think it could be better with a little work. The alliteration is a little much.

Thanks for the critique.

I especially liked this part of your poem:

They swing,
and they circle
and they never stop.

Our failure and our folly,
Our efforts and our empires,
Are as whispers in the dark.

All our joys, and all our sorrows,
Ring silent in their domain.

[Anomie]

I tend not to post anything I write, but hey, this seems like a friendly place.

First:
My everything hurts.
My hands and eyes twitch.
My ears don't work
And my legs ache.
My brain feels like mush.
I'm far too hot.
My motor skills deteriorate,
My headache gets worse.
I slur my speech
And loose my sense of balance.
It could be worse though.
I could be sober through all this.

Second:
The book of me is gospel
It only speaks the truth
Let it be sung out
Down the ages
The form of the beautiful
The universe collides
Shrinking down the earth
We all float around
Letting things go
Tearing out our eyes
Sifting through time
The form of the beautiful
Watched us being born
Never changing pace
Baby learns to fly
Maya.

Third:
Batten down the doors
The storm is going to come and wash away the lunatics
Please close your ears
Don't let the vacuum get in any other way
Don't worry dear
Nothing's going to happen to you now that I'm here
Hide away the kids
I don't want them to see what we're about to become
Stay indoors kids
You better not see what's going on outside

[Verator]

Two poems I cam up with. I don't tend to Title my poems, I prefer the lines to convey their own meanign without giving a tone to the reader from a title.

A kiss is such a tiny thing
Cloaked in naught but simplicity
Yet how can such a tiny thing
Be the source of so much misery?
I search for love
Constantly rejected
Searching the skies I look above
Yet I believe there's nothing to oblige me

A poetic soul
Only wanting compassion
Yet all those he trust
Beyond his means
He looks for hope
But finds only suffering
Yet still he tries
Wanting only acceptance


Also, after reading all of yours, a couple ideas started entering my brain, so I'm off to write a longer, and hopefully better, poem.

[Dr.Robert]

entitled "KT"

Where do we want to go?

In circles?
In squares?

Candy Clouds
shall guide me
through a world
of ambivalence

Not a circle
or a square.

[pollywog]

Is it about/for a person? Where I come from, KT is a name, but I don't know what it is for you.

A little bit of constructive criticism coming up, so just ignore me. If I had any right to interfere in the way this poem is written, I would ask you to change "Not a circle/ or a square" to "Not a circle./ Not a square." In my opinion, this would make it work differently. (I hate to say stuff like better, because this is obviously your poem, and I don't want to seem like a dick)

[Dr.Robert]

Is it about/for a person? Where I come from, KT is a name, but I don't know what it is for you.

A little bit of constructive criticism coming up, so just ignore me. If I had any right to interfere in the way this poem is written, I would ask you to change "Not a circle/ or a square" to "Not a circle./ Not a square." In my opinion, this would make it work differently. (I hate to say stuff like better, because this is obviously your poem, and I don't want to seem like a dick)

The poem was actually written in a matter of minutes on the grass in front of the girl who I am referring to. She kept on asking me what we should do that day or where we should go, and I was getting quite bothered. I happen to have a notepad in hand, so I just scribbled it down! "KT" is actually the initials of here name, but ironically, it is her first name to phonetically speaking.

And I'm very open for constructive criticism, so no worries (I consider myself to be a rather poor poet, so criticism can only help me). I do indeed see your point. You know, I might even end up changing this one to what you suggested. It certainly makes the poem more together in a sense.

[pollywog]

Is it about/for a person? Where I come from, KT is a name, but I don't know what it is for you.

A little bit of constructive criticism coming up, so just ignore me. If I had any right to interfere in the way this poem is written, I would ask you to change "Not a circle/ or a square" to "Not a circle./ Not a square." In my opinion, this would make it work differently. (I hate to say stuff like better, because this is obviously your poem, and I don't want to seem like a dick)

The poem was actually written in a matter of minutes on the grass in front of the girl who I am referring to. She kept on asking me what we should do that day or where we should go, and I was getting quite bothered. I happen to have a notepad in hand, so I just scribbled it down! "KT" is actually the initials of here name, but ironically, it is her first name to phonetically speaking.

And I'm very open for constructive criticism, so no worries (I consider myself to be a rather poor poet, so criticism can only help me). I do indeed see your point. You know, I might even end up changing this one to what you suggested. It certainly makes the poem more together in a sense.

Coolio. I always feel annoying when I suggest stuff like that to people.

[pseudoMuso]

Ah, finally found the right place.

Also, Dr Robert - I really like that actually. short, sweet - but meaningful.

Anyway, here is my poem, that many of you have most likely read, and will piss you off by now, but I'm gonna shove it in your face anyways. There is lots of references to shit that influenced my understanding in the world. There's shakespear of course, which becomes very apparent. but the most influential piece of literature i have come across so far is T.S. eliot's "The Hollow Men" (after, of course, reading Heart of Darkness, by Conrad). S studied both of those items during school -and it left with me one hell of an impression.

Boiled Down

Shall I compare thee to a Mid-Winter Tempest?
Thout art more arrogant and impulsive.
Since you threw the first stone,
Since when you first awoke,
Little more has changed.

In the morning you crawl.
In the afternoon you bear your frailties, crossed across your back as you shuffle towards
your final resting grounds.
Judas ignorantly stares out across the fellow condemned. He stares at you, naked and savage.

And in the evening, you crawl - not from inexperiance, but from a maddening despair at your own helplessness.

When you can, you do, and when you can't, you bare your teeth and snarl, place your fingers in your ears and breed complacency.


If anyone can tell me what the subject of this poem is, I will give you 1 million XKCD-land Mega-bun-fucks.

I'm sorry, I had to...

[schumi_girl]

I've got a fair few poems...I write them every other day.

Fate


Do I have a choice
Or is my fate already
Written
In the stars
Like in song
Lyrics


Birdy


A little birdy
Whispered in my ear
'there's still hope
don't give up yet.
He's looking for you
But it's taking a while.'
With that
The birdy flew away
Leaving nothing
But a whisper
In my
Ear.


Doubt


A doubt
A flicker
A flash
Through my mind
Just for a
Second.
But it's enough
To make it
Stick


Already Written


Am I doing the right thing
Is this all wrong
Do I have the choice
Can I make mistakes
Is my life already planned
Is it written
In the clouds
In the sky
Open and free
For anyone to read?


Victory Lost


Is this a dream
Or is it just my heart
Telling me what I want
But can't have
It's out of my reach
I can't get close enough
To grasp it
In my hand
Clenched
In victory
I will
Never
Have.


Games


To write poetry
Is to write your life
In nice words
That roll
Together
Like dice
Across the wood
Board game
Of life.


Chemistry Class


The chemistry fizzles
The electricity sizzles
As they sit
And pretend
That each other
Isn't there


Young Regret


I never planned
On regretting anything
In my life.
I'm too young
To have regrets
But then,
Again,
The young always make
Mistakes
Or so I'm told
So how can I live a life without
Regrets
If I'm young?


Angels' Choices


You can't choose who you
Fall in love with
It's not your choice
To make
Your life's already written
Every line
Every word
Every letter
Was written
Before you were born
The angels
Didn't give you a choice
They didn't even
Give you
A
Chance.


Honesty


Honesty
Is the best policy
But it's also
The hardest
Thing to do
'I hate you'
is easy to say
but hard to take back
'I love you' is hard to say
but once it's out, there's no going back
so you better
mean it
or else
they'll know
you were lying.


Truth and Lies


Truth and lies
Are easily said
But easily discovered
How you lied
To cover up
The facts
That are staring you
In
The
Face.
Lying
Is just a bus station
A short term break
Until the bus of truth arrives
And shakes its finger
In
Your
Face.
And doesn't let you on.
So you have to wait
For the bus of regret.


Princess For A Day


She's a princess
In her ball gown
With her hair shiny
And swept up
Her jewellery
Sparkles
Like dew in the morning
She dazzles
For the crowd
But what they don't see
The fear
In her eyes
The shakiness
Of her hands
As she waves
She's a princess
Just for one day


The Encore


She takes her bow
Happy tears in her eyes
As she leaves the stage
But there's no applause
There's no call of
'Encore!'
There's nothing
Just silence
Then
A single clap
Comes


Happy Texting


The phone gives a tinkle
She smiles, with a wrinkle
In the corner of her eye
She reads the message
And smiles all the broader
And her happiness
Is spread
Like butter
On bread
Through the room
Cuts through the gloom
And sends the flowers
Into
Full
Bloom


Life's Not A Fairytale


Life isn't like a fairytale
It twists and turns and spins
It dips and dives
And curves and ducks
There's no magical fairies
That are armed with wands
There's no book
That's been written
For you
To refer to
When
Lost


Role Model


My brother
Looks up to me
I'm his role model
He gave me responsibility
The moment he
Was
Born


Guilty Innocence


Innocent eyes
Peer up
From the doona
In which
He hides
'I didn't do it'
His expression says
And he looks
So sincere
That even
Though
I know
He did it
I
Let it
go


Strong Life


In the forest
Of the green
There's life
So strong
It's no wonder
They're keen
To cut it down
For such life
Scares them


Poetry
Poetry.
It's like a dam
Burst its banks
And there's no stopping
The flow
Of words
Of feelings
Of colour
Of life
That comes
From the paper
On which
The pen
Scratches.


The Smile


That boy
Across the road
Secret peeks
Through the window
He caught your eye
One day
And smiled
A smile
That lit up
Your heart


denial


whispers in the corridor
knowing grins in passing
notes reading 'he loves you I know!'
shaking heads but a sparkle in the eye
pointing voices, 'you love him too!'
red cheeks, a sheepish grin
an offhand gesture
sweeping it all away
nods in secret
plans of union hatched
all behind the 'in denial'
lover's backs



Is Not
A tear drop,
on the paper
A rainbow,
in an oil spill
A cut,
from a rosebud
A laugh,
through tears
A smile,
that's shaky
Nail polish,
cracked.
Stockings,
With a run.
Shoes,
That don't shine.
School,
Isn't fun.



In Class
English class.
Rolling eyes
Scrunched up paper.
Metaphors, similes,
Adjectival clauses.
Yawning, stretching,
Mindlessly copying.
Laid-back, carefree.
Nobody worries


-then-


The bell clangs
Shuffling paper
Slamming folders
Hurrying feet
Loud voices
Smiles of 'it's over, thank god!'
Teacher leaves wearily.
Drags herself slowly.
-Onto the next class.


What do you think?

[pseudoMuso]

Chemistry Class


The chemistry fizzles
The electricity sizzles
As they sit
And pretend
That each other
Isn't there

Nice. I really like that one, and it has a great potential to become a very thought-provoking piece of text.

[pollywog]

Truth and Lies


Truth and lies
Are easily said
But easily discovered
How you lied
To cover up
The facts
That are staring you
In
The
Face.
Lying
Is just a bus station
A short term break
Until the bus of truth arrives
And shakes its finger
In
Your
Face.
And doesn't let you on.
So you have to wait
For the bus of regret.

My favourite. I especially like the bus of truth and the bus of regret.

[The Lone Lynx]

President

Everything
Strung on a pendulum
Watch it swing
Watch it swing
Everything
Stuck in momentum
But him
With the scissors in his hand
Sitting at the top.

[Mighty Jalapeno]

My
Milk
Shake bring
All the boys
To the yard, and they're
Like, it's better than yours. Damn right.
It's better than yours. I'd teach you, but I'd have to charge.

My God... Kelis was 'singing' fibs this whole time!


Fibs
Ain't
Writing.
Not really.
It's just having fun.
Fibs aren't that hard, they don't need thought.
It seems to be that writing should be a little tough.
Agonizing over dialogue, re-editing passages, and all that stuff.


Yeah!
Sweet!
Thats it!
You've got it!
Now lets keep this up.
Remember, the sequence is big.
Like, very big. Like, infinite.
It can keep going about as long as you can think.
No need to stop at eight, or even thirteen, when twenty-one is just one more sentence!

[Joseph]

Dang... I lost the fib I wrote a few years ago (for a poetry class). It went at least to 55, and I MIGHT have included an 89-syllable line (which could have been a poem in itself). The teacher liked it, and didn't even notice the fib structure.

Anyways, here are a few more from that class (some of the best poetry I've ever written, I think):

****************************************
A STUDY IN SELF-DEPLETION (assignment: to write a villainelle)

You asked me, "What do you have left to give?"
I took your face into my hands, and then
I kissed you once for every year you lived.

You spoke to me, seemingly to misgive
My love. I felt your doubt when, yet again,
You asked me, "What do you have left to give?"

"My dear," I said, "these lips you can't outlive.
I yield, just to you, my personal Amen."
I kissed you once for every year you lived.

Those next few seconds, I'd hate to relive:
I realized you spurned what you couldn't spend.
You asked me, "What do you have left to give?"

And you'd spent it all. Water through the sieve.
Desperate for love's crumbs, down to my last ten,
I kissed you once for every year you lived.

But that's the type of thing you won't forgive;
You knew you depleted me, because when
You asked me, "What do you have left to give?"
I kissed you once for every year you lived.
*******************************************
A NIGHT AMONG MANY (exactly twenty lines)

Collectively, they're one hundred thirty years old.
The dishes were quietly dripping on the rack,
the refrigerator hummed its chilled hum,
and the hooting owl kept watch over all.
"Sleep will come soon enough," he thought.
He turned to her, though creakily,
on this temperate spring night, and whispered,
as he had in their newlywed bed,
"There'll be three types of days, I reckon:
days when I simply love you,
days when I absolutely adore you,
and there'll be some days, like this one,
when I want to forsake everything else
and burn incense in your name."
Their fingertips touched in the dark.
Somewhere, the gray calico purred.
"What happened on the other types of days?"
She could see his gentle smile,
even enveloped by deep, country dark.
"When those days happen, I'll let you know."
********************************************
CIRCULAR LOGIC ("just write anything")

I am from dust.
Dust rises from my hands, knees, and legs.
Legs wobble as they hold my weight for the first time.
Time plods on in the schoolroom.
Room is what I need. Quit smothering me, Dad.
"Dad" is what she calls me now.
Now we'll need a bigger home.
Home and hearth are all ours since they left.
Left to my own devices since she passed on.
On and on the world unfolds, and now left behind, the infinitesimal I.
I am dust.
*******************************************************
FOUR HAIKU (incorporate the word "birdbath")

Ten decades ago,
when a man's land was measured,
it was in acres.

Now the world's smaller.
Ranches turned to apartments,
measured in square feet.

Earthly maintenance
items have themselves now turned
to accoutrements.

You're incongruous,
just as a birdbath will be
in one hundred years.
*************************************************
OLYMPIA (no more than five syllables in each line. This is the post-assignment version with no such restrictions)

I'm the best piece
of stableboy ass
in all of Greece.
And the Mount
now knows it.

It started with Hera.
She came
in a silver mist,
then she came
in a silver mist.
She left just as quickly,
mumbling something about
some woman named Leda,
and throttling throats of swans.

Now they all come
to me.
Sounds like ambrosia,
but tastes like ashes, for
when they told the gods
it was someone different
every time, the initially
suspected nothing,
but that can't last.
They're forgiven their peccadillos
(lest Lysistrata prove its prescience),
but I won't be so lucky.
Once, Dionysus, stinking of ouzo,
staggered to me and whispered,
"They're our women, mortal.
If we find out
they're coming to you,
what you've given to them,
you'll get."

Now every time
the thunder rolls,
I look over my shoulder.
I know not
which sex I dread more;
the goddesses raise the stakes,
but the gods may come
to collect.

I'm thunder to the women,
I'm oblivious to the men.
I just want to be
irrelevant again.
******************************************

[Handsome]

I had too much time on my hands one day, and came up with this, which isn't that good; but I like the last line.

[i]I look up into the night sky and see the infinity of the universe.
I look up into the night sky and feel the cool breeze refreshing me.
I look up into the night sky and hear the sounds of the night, playing beyond anyone’s notice.
I look up into the night sky and smell a rainstorm coming, clearing the air.
I look up into the night sky and think “This outhouse needs a roof.â€

[epershandrea]

All youse guys are way talented!

My best poetry comes to me when I'm half asleep, and I forget to write most of it down. Here is one that I remembered:

Take a scalpel, open up my chest
for everyone to see.
You'll find a piece of jagged granite
where a heart should be.

Go ahead and take a chisel
to a heart of stone;
shape it into something suitable
to call your own.

Meanwhile, the shards and fragments
clog up all the arteries,
and cut the blood-flow off
to every other part of me.

[The Lone Lynx]

I really like that first stanza, eper.

[Ren]

Song of the Reluctant Responsible

Tinker, tailor, soldier, sailor
Oh, what shall I be?
Take up the needle or the bailer
Or find other means to be free?

Love and marriage,
Love and marriage
Go together like a horse and a carriage
"So one must pull the other?"
"Unless you can love unhitched and unhinged!"

Oh, oh, oh, give me my liberty
I would not choose that weary curse
Even if his lips contained
All the timeless universe

Art and snobbery,
Art and snobbery
Go together like a highway and robbery
But I,
I stray from the road
And drink drink, drink, until
I must hold on to keep from floating away,
Away...
Say "Hey! Hey! Hey!
I am not shit-faced
Or even ever-so-faintly faecal.
And if I close my eyes,
No one can see me fall!"

[SatAnpu]

Burning lilac candlestick,
Dripping beeswax glory.
A shorted wick from both ends
Has a fire brightly burning.
My lonesome candle dimly lights the winding path ahead,
With a wick cutter in my thin pockets weighing down my dress.
Soft fabric hits my legs,
Sometimes burning,
Sometimes itching.
Biting lilac scent fills up my eyes and nose.
Breathing stilled and vision lost I travel along this path.
Blisters from the lilac candle trail down,
Down,
Down my hands.
Mask of sweetness,
Pain of ages,
Shining eyes and blank face show.
Eons pass on this fair earth,
A journey lasting existence.
And when the surface finally calls,
I am forgotten,
A ferryman to no one now.
I am forgotten.

[Ended]

Some awesome stuff in this thread, guys.

You're incongruous,
just as a birdbath will be
in one hundred years.

I like.

Well, here's something I was playing around with a while ago:

---
Gravity

I spilt a cup of sugar, folded it settled,
Pearl nothing on linoleum.
I gave the cup itself to gravity;
Light glass it spread wide then.

I saw an aleph-null of stars (that is to say,
Point of never, silver dusted)
I saw the golden glint of iron real,
Light web, lead on paper.

I heard a sound a voice which shone (even after
I can hear it ever after)
I heard it and many miles ago now
Light dusk, standing there tall,

You spilt a cup of sugar, folded it settled,
Pearl nothing on linoleum.
You gave the cup itself to gravity;
Like glass, I shard wide then.

[scrt_rbt_agnt]

this is my first step outside of the general forum, and i'm really pleased to find this subforum and this particular thread. poetry has been a hobby of mine for years, and i'm always pleased to discuss/critique with fellow poets. i just spent the last 30 minutes or so in this thread browsing through the poetry and i'm pretty awed and impressed to see decent writers here. in the past, i've been mostly posting poetry on my deviantArt page, but here's one for you all.

what to do with eyelids

i color my eyes closed
ten shades of orange in(to a)
blast of sunset energy
while in another burst
moment, i spread my seed
in the sore eyes of god.

last time
we talked about your heady breath;
you've got
this frothy death [the brilliant
unfolding dawn
elopes with the
sunrise; our hands
reaching into
the unconscious
sea
to
grab
urchins,
stuff them in
packages and
envelopes, let them
rot in
old post delivery
systems]
we placed our brainwaves carefully
on paper like maps of the world.
our sudden untimely attractions:
swift, bold, confusing highways
i've driven them all but
now i'm staked out
in someone else's stupid, absent
city;
my own headache only survives
your hangover gaze

or maybe
you're dead

i can't really tell
but since you smell of rot and
the juice of unplugged
refrigerators i
color your eyes closed
ten shades of orange.

[woodenpeople]

i color my eyes closed
ten shades of orange in(to a)
blast of sunset energy
while in another burst
moment, i spread my seed
in the sore eyes of god.
(etc..)

I can REALLY get behind this. Really, really lovely use of the language.

I've been writing to pass the time for a while now myself, although lately for fun I've been writing in semi-rap verse. I've got a couple of styles archived but I thought I'd try sharing some of the aforementioned one for today. A change of pace, maybe?

This one I wrote in January when I'd just gotten back into the routine from my winter vacation, the routine I thought I hated.

I've been home now for a couple of days,
Back to the grind, flippin from dead to crazed
In the South end, working til my backbone quivers
Go out and shiver, go home by the river
And marinate, masturbate, bait the TV
Working for a living's took the living from me
In the basement, dry air's sucking me in
Like bones on a bed shrinking under the skin
Got jobs,
Got things,
Got food in the pot
But I'm doing what I want
Because I'm starting to rot
And I got no regrets, son, I don't need change
It's the life I came back to, I shoot in this range

I missed the ball and chain
I missed the ball and chain
I got nothin' to do and little to gain
But I missed the ball and chain
..
I jotted this down on the bus while thinking about the teenage culture I live in; the messiness and the music industry. This one is called "PLAY SOME FUCKING BEATS", which is something a very drunk boy yelled at me while I was DJing at some party.

I'm too happy to harp a heart harpoon,
but they're drawing down the bridge soon
This afternoon is safe, but there's a gate
that I can see through
The rhyme is no lost weapon, interception
of mass beats and fake sexin'
has abused it, slapped it's tag on, advertised it's shoes with it
Maybe pretty soon we'll lose it
This is no revival, my survival isn't vital to this taste,
In 50 states, takes a world tour to stalk the stakes,
It'll always find a place to waste,
To mix the beats, to cream, to paste..
and sing of lies
Big cocks, big cars and unzipped flies,
Before it finally finds a place to grind
and finally a place to die.
But I know why we use it, and drink it
As it's kinks unlink and it's meanings sink
below to clink on the music that's the farthest to the brink;
Rock bottom rocking out to sock fucking teen hot body heat sweat
knocking not so sweetly on your bedroom,
making fake love to fake tunes.
But you have to, baby, don't you?
You'll admit you love it, won't you?
In the mirror your fear can't do
the pressing pressure it did do as you do her,
("But you DO still do her, don't you?")
Don't your hearts ache when you shake your ass
to those beats and love you didn't make?
Baby, don't you?
Baby, don't you?

[the Cow]

Art and snobbery
Go together like a highway and robbery

QFT.

[Severus Severance]

I'm blushing now, but:


"Downtown City"

Midnight dark in the downtown city;

The streetlight pools amber on concrete.

Footsteps are the drumbeat of the moonlit night;

The muted click against poured stone a lullaby of dreams.


Alone after dark, I'll live your dreams for you;

Nothing is beyond my reach.

In the night are all the shadows I have known,

Their shout-screaming my companion through the dark.


I can't remember who sent me here;

God or man or Devil, I am here,

Breathing my last in the night-dark city.

Friendly raven shadows follow me home.


Death has never been my enemy;

A friend and an acquaintance,

But never an end, never an obstacle.

I transcend this brief night and look outwards.


My eyes look back at you when you glance

Into a mirror -- don't fall, Alice!

It's a very long way down --

Whose face in the mirror? Mine? Yours?


Eyes dance alight with purple shadows;

No bruise for my doll, my perfect companion.

Only eyes like amethysts in a flawless face,

Twin gems that Nature never saw.


Life and Death are forever beyond me;

I'm a dreaming man, lost in the shadows

Of my heart and of your soul.

I'm walking down the night forever.


The road appears after midnight;

It's crystallized light -- so delicate --

I fear to touch it, but take the path,

Walking on heavenly glass up to the moon.


The night holds a ruby in its dark velvet folds;

Brilliant moon, a pale satellite of home.

I hear the voice of my true family,

And do as they will all down the long night.


Dawn is coming to my night-dark city,

I'll claim again a place for rest, briefly.

I am a dark man, a city man,

Seizing this night for my own services.


Strange remembered faces when he died;

Who are you and where have I gone?

Is this death again? Am I lost?

They answer no, I will return.


Only waiting times now stand

Between me and my night-lit city,

And the friendship of the dark.

The memory of fire chases me down the days.

[muteKi]

Oh, what the hell, as long as I just finished this...

It's meant to be a good, possibly singable interpretation of Younha's Houkiboshi (Shooting Star), which was a song that was featured in the anime Bleach. There are several translation so you can see how this compares to the original.

I sit and watch the night sky, here all alone
As a shooting star passed through the sky
I wonder if you could have seen it too
And now I wish I could get back to you

But if I could fly and soar through the sky like the shooting star
I would fly to your side, to be right where
You are so far away and I know no matter what I must do
My will and love are strong, and I shall soon reach you

I sit here under the rain, with you in my mind
Remembering all the lovely things you've said
You once said the stars are lovely after the rain
And with your words in my heart, how can I complain

But if I could fly and soar through the sky like a shooting star
I would cast the brightest light, to shine into
Your heart, and though we've had to part, I know when you watch the sky
Your sorrows may not leave you, but you will smile and shine

I don't want you to fight, there all alone
I shall somehow reach you and find my home...

If I could fly and soar through the sky like a shooting star
I know I'd reach your side, even though
You are so far away, but in this single moment in time
We light up the night together as we travel through
The sky, somehow, living nowhere but here and now,
I would be right by your side, forever for all time

[scrt_rbt_agnt]

another poem, this one more recent than the last. possibly the last decent thing i wrote.

the most wimpy gift

so we climbed into shoeboxes
hoping to pass for pounds of flesh
under the gashing wounds of the subway station
past the unfortunate
wrecking ball tracks of the city underground
we lay by the devil's side
under his Christmas tree and we
sing over his cries of young joy

"please accept our legs
all crushed and broken
please love us,
please eat us whole"

it was a chorus
it was just as we'd practiced
but we were torn from our boxes
and showed our rooms
where we lay in
stomach acid.
the trains derailed above us
and we laugh and we sing

"my heart is a hangnail
and our mouths are all rotten
a pillow for my head
while we lay here forgotten"

[frozenfishsticks]

I'm not sure what to title this (suggestions?), and it's in a paragraph because I thought it seemed strange in separate lines, although y'all might say the opposite.

There is no doubt that within this house there are broken hearts strewn across the floor. Hearts so mangled, hearts so tangled, shatters and shards before the open door. These hearts were held within a clutch, a clutch whose strength was too much. And in a room with chair reclined, sits the culprit, a living prospect of all that is divine. He peers across the abysmal shore that lies beyond the open door. “A sea of green, a sea obscene,â€

[Gadren]

I like sonnets mainly because I'm forced to fit things into a rigid structure instead of being all stream-of-consciousness-like. So here are a couple:

I wrote this first one back in 6th grade:

HAIR

The wooly, curly, spiky strands of thread,
These grassy fields upon the meadow down
Have hues of tawny blond or sunset red,
A snowy white, an inky black or brown.

And as a weed it springs up towards the air.
The ropes, like jungle trees, touch ev’ry cloud,
With some untangled, others quite ensnared.
Some strands lie languid, others stand unbowed.

That blood striped pole, the cape from neck to heel,
The comb plows furrows over verdant domes.
The spinning seat, the shining, sharpened steel
Are warnings of the sacrifice to come.

Oh, though each lock comes from a diff’rent pate,
The barber’s floor is each twine’s common fate.


And I wrote this one after the Columbia tragedy:

Columbia

For ages, we have wondered, “What is there?
What’s past that hill or sea or field afar?â€

[ThorFluff]

I've been reading the first two pages (not the third yet ) and i must say i'm impressed beyond words, i think i just found my favorite forum!

i began writing a poem here, but i decided to wrok more on it before posting, it might actually be good (though i think it will pale in compairason in this neck of the woods)

[shinybaby]

this is a talent-filled forum (current post not withstanding ) i'm really impressed!

just to say i didn't wimp out and not contribute...

i have touched the stone
and am the living well.
people come to read wisdom in the shifting words upon my body
but i have no answer for this.


so, um, yeah.

[muteKi]

shinybaby: It's better than mine. Someone said, "Whatever is too stupid to be spoken aloud is sung", and those are supposed to be song lyrics.


I put a sonnet about the neutrino here somewhere...
Here we go: link is http://forums.xkcd.com/viewtopic.php?t=3333.

But when I'm more pressed for time, this is what I come up with. It ain't great.

I see you walk past me
I wonder what could be on your mind
I silently nod to you to greet you, and you nod back
I wonder what could have come of this meeting in another life
Would we stop for a moment to let your existence enter my mind?
Would we share but another greeting?
Would we come to talk of the weather or the news of the world?
Would we come to find in each other a new acquaintance, a confidant, or friend?

[antonfire]

Do crappy haikus count? They're separate from each other, by the way.


Unexcitingly,
my love at first sight for you
was at last sight too.


To cheer myself up:
∃! me.
Quite a pleasant thought.


Lost in forever,
through the window of a bus
our eyes meet just once.


Sitting together
in our amiable chat,
happily alone.


When it's bursting out,
share your silence with your friends.
No one else wants it.

[shinybaby]

shinybaby: It's better than mine. Someone said, "Whatever is too stupid to be spoken aloud is sung", and those are supposed to be song lyrics.


I put a sonnet about the neutrino here somewhere...
Here we go: link is http://forums.xkcd.com/viewtopic.php?t=3333.

But when I'm more pressed for time, this is what I come up with. It ain't great.

I see you walk past me
I wonder what could be on your mind
I silently nod to you to greet you, and you nod back
I wonder what could have come of this meeting in another life
Would we stop for a moment to let your existence enter my mind?
Would we share but another greeting?
Would we come to talk of the weather or the news of the world?
Would we come to find in each other a new acquaintance, a confidant, or friend?

i always admire people who write music/lyrics!! i love playing music, but i've never been able to combine writing and playing...

i like your lyrics!!

[Khonsu]

EDIT: I took my poems down because I'm using most of them in rewrites, but all the work here is very, very good, though in the classic advice of every creative writing teach I've ever had: rewrite them all at least three more times, and then see how you feel about the original.