Poetry Journal!! Part 2!! (Again....?)

[Just_Jaine offline]

Note about my previous poem: It was originally written in Spanish so that’s the way its suppose to sound. The English version was just my thoughts on how it would be translated. I know it’s not as good. That’s why I wrote it in Spanish instead of English. And no honestly I don’t want to write any more. I don’t think I could in fact. The poem was not supposed to be happy or sad. It was more my way of accepting reality. What I wrote about really did happen. Mi angel de la muerte name is Ryan Hwang. He was my friend. And he did in a car crash on Wednesday January 31, 2006. He was 14 years old. He died being crushed under a freeway bridge on a rainy day. There isn’t anyone I can blame for his death. I can only accept it. This poem was one way that I tried to find this acceptance. But apparently I still miss him greatly…Ok I’ve said enough. Thank you for listening. PS I’m sorry for biting off some of your heads.

Carth- So I do know! I was just confused ^.^ Aww your poem was cute!!! I liked how it was a little repetitious but not too.

Malkmusian- ???? Poem confused me. Well not so much confused me but made my world spin in this new perspective. Either way it was very interesting. Your second poem confused me more. I didn’t know were you were coming from… it was just kinda sudden. Maybe you could add a bit more to your poem so that here is more context and we can get to know this person who you are writing about...?

Stonecreek- Yes I’m still here!!! XD Humm I thought that your poem was going an entire different way when I read the first 3 lines. Either way its good, well structured.

Ok Here’s a poem that both DD and I wrote. One of our “famous” joint efforts. Hope you enjoy it! DD wrote the bold, me the normal text.


Rain pounds down on the tin roof
Like bullets pelting at my heart
I want to go
To run away
To not be trapped
In this shelter they call protection.

I look up to the sky
The night haze covering it

I wish to see the stars
But they are covered by our lights

And I know,
Today's not the day.

I'm weak
Weak from listening to your pointless rants
Weak from letting your words get to me
I'm weak
Too weak to run away.

And you know what?!
I think that's what you wanted
You wanted all along to hurt
Killing me
You don't care about me
No you don't give a DAMN

Of course you don't
As long as I don't argue back
And do your every will
You don't care.

I had once came to you because I needed someone
I had once trusted you with everything
But now I know,
That was a big mistake.

I should've left you a long time ago
But I couldn't bring myself to do so.
You had been my guiding post for so long
If felt wrong to leave you...

The first day that we met.
I came up to you and whispered in your ear.
You said everything would be all right
And I believed you.

Thats it
Do you see my problem?
Its trust
The trust I had in you that you didn't deserve

And now,
Look at us
I'm torn up by my actions
And you
You think you're so strong and mighty
But in reality
You're just as weak as I am
If not more
Your just un willing to believe it
And for that...
I'm sorry

[Stonecreek]

Malkmusian - Clasroom dreamin...how sweet, and odd. I tried to get the prod the involved parties here into reading the poem, but no go.

Jaine (and DD/SMX/HWOD) - There's more anger and unsettled-ness in this poem than any of your other joint efforts. Good job of wearing your eharts on your sleeve.

What to post, what to post...let's go with the lyric-inspired poem this time.

This Time Imperfect

What is it that chokes you,
and why must you run from it?
I will always be here for you,
to assist you in any way.
But you do not see this.

I have given you your demands,
at least what I thought they were.
You fling them against the wall,
and the act tears me apart inside.
But you do not see this.

I have seen your depths and heights
and have backed down from neither.
For you I spend my restless nights
in a bed you refuse to share.
But you do not see this.

I wanted this to work; so did you,
but the fates have intervened.
For I see the unbalance in you,
the hurt wanting to claw free.
But you do not see this.

It is you who breaks before me,
and I have to be the strong one.
We part, unamicably, silent,
your head never turning back.
Of course you do not see.

You never did.

[YDV offline]

JAINE~! 8DD

I liked the Spanish version of your poem. (Partly because I could read it and I felt cool >3) You certainly have a way with words.

Um. A<s>a</s>ngst.

Nice poem, Stoney! It's pretty deep. And I'm kind of a fan of repetition. >>; I also like your use of imagery.

Uhhh. Mew = Aelita. Okay then. xD;;;;

Rofl I don't have any poems, sorry. :<

[Shi_Min_Xi offline]

aroijfd; I'm still alive! For a tad...

Carthhhhhhh: Awww sweettttt

Malkmusian: Interesting poems, I liked the 2nd one specially the falling sleep part.

Stonecreek~!: I really like Blame and especially the tone it had. Nicely written. As for This Time Imperfect. It sounds so right in so many ways, like it really sounds realistic. Nice job with the imagery as well

La di la la, I must've still been thinking of the jointed effort when I wrote this one...But oh well. But hey! It has a tittle...! Sort of...? xD Meh...

<b>Goodbye</b>

I had once thought I could trust you
I had once placed all my faith in you
I had once believed that it was right...

But now I know
It was just a trick
Something I must come to accept now
But try as I might, I just cannot

I am confused
I am hurt
I do not know what to do

Normally, I would ask you what to do
But now...and forever more, I cannot.

It pains me to say this
But I must

Goodbye forever
May our paths never meet again.

[Stonecreek]

Because I hate to see this topic drop off the front page, I deleted my post and replaced it with this. It can't just be a couple of us reading this; the hits to the thread say so. So come on, please contribute. Now, on to the original message.

Your poem seems heartfelt, HWOD, but yet it lacks personality. You use general terms to get your meaning across, when in this case, you may have been better served by perosnalizing it more. The message is clear, it is technically sound, but it just does not apture me like I know it should.

Back to the vault for me...the only writing I'm doing right now is for a fanfic I should've had done ages ago (and all apologies to the person waiting for it, too). This poem is as close to stream-of-consciousness as you'll get from me.


Brillo

Don't know what to want,
lost and groping and all
that was appealing no longer is
like it was before,
shiny and new and oh-so
frightening, alluring
now dull, faded away
buried in the dunes
no shovel can reach,
no map will point out
like the little spot
neglected in the back
of the mind so long
it’s rusted over, caked
with grime, looking
for the scouring pad,
begging -
Please, wash it away.

[Malkmusian offline]

Stonecreek - Your poem about about a scouring pad? Weird, yet so good.

My new poem...

Final Hour

Sitting all alone on the tour bus, heading towards Nawlins,
Hoon opens up the brown bag and dumps all of its compartments.
He gets out a straw and starts to breathe it in, and soon,
His heart starts racing as his life flashes by.
Heather DeRoach, the Queen Bee, shows within his eyes,
And so was the show where everybody booed at him,
Because they didn't play "No Rain".
He then stood up and yelled out obscenities,
Things like that and started to cry.
He would soon miss Nico grow up to be a lawyer,
In middle school, though.

He sits down on the couch, feeling the end of his overdose,
And starts to put his head across the pillow.
Soon enough, the light takes him in.
He runs away, but is caught by it.
Soon, his buddy tries to wake him up, but
He won't wake up like Bruce Dern in that crazy movie.
Hoon's eyes glow with a reluctant glow, saying,
"I am gone forever from this world".
The police come in the tour bus and examine him from head to toe,
saying to the band, "Hoon's gone away at 34."

And now, as I sit here, writing this experimental poem,
please ask yourself: Do you believe in Christ?
Did you ever think about breathing in substances?
Did you ever feel like the antagonistic Hoon?
Of course, everybody has a bit of Hoon in each other.
They feel the same pain as him as he was about to go in the pearly gates.
Thankfully, he is up in Heaven, singing in the Cloud 7 Club,
Jesus watching him, thinking, "He had a good life,
But I don't know why he took his own life at 34."

[Shi_Min_Xi offline]

....You know a thread is doomed to fail if even the creator just ignores it...

BUT, I won't give up on it! I just...won't post as frequently as before...? -shrugs-

Onto purpose of my post! It's a revival -for the what? like 5th time now...? [phails]-

SOOOOOO

Stonecreek-mod : Amusing...? I swear, that was the first word that came to mind.

GMS- An interesting thought....

Lulz, I gots a poem. I like it. I want feedback plz. 'Cause like I kinda wanna submit it to the school for something...so...xD

-Read, So, I wrote this poem 'cause I was bored and decided I liked it a lot better than my old poems (which seems to be happening a lot lately) and I really wanted some feedback on it and just because the journal was about to fall off the 2nd page...So yea...Enjoy. -
<b>Like this, Like that</b>

Like an arrow released from the enemy
Never straying from the path
Marking a target and staying true
Piercing through and wounding.

Like the tide that rushes up
Enveloping one
Comforting
Until when its least expected
No more; over.

Like the sun that sets
Realization that it must be
Ever trying to hold on
Knowing that effort is in vain
Giving up and watching…
Hoping that it will rise again.

...I dunno about the title but yea...

Keep the journal alive guys!!! Especially since we have 1820-something views for just 30-something posts? That's pretty good.

[Carth]

Hm...revival number 6. In my tradition of necromancy lately.

That, and I felt like writing a poem.

Oh, SMX, I really likes it. It kinda strikes me as hopeful, in a sad sort of way. Stonecreek, I really, really like yours- perfect use of analogy.

Here's mine. Dedicated to a very special someone <s>who I hope never finds it or else that would be a very awkward conversation.</s> Same boy as my 'you love me' poem tho.

Sometimes

Sometimes

I look through my window
Late at night
And I see the moon

And I wonder
If maybe
Someone
Far away
Is looking at it too

If maybe
Even through the thousand miles
One thing in our world
Can be the same

But sometimes I wish

That we were
Somewhere peaceful
Beautiful
Anywhere
Holding hands
Together
But all alone

So we could see it
And it could be ours
And I could be grateful
That I was with you.

I think of that
When I see the moon
Unknowingly connecting
Two distant hearts

Sometimes.

I've also come up with a vignette version, if anyone wants me to write it.

[Stonecreek]

Time has passed again. Bad Daniel! I have three poems to comment on, and I shall do so.

Malky- Those first two stanzas are so good. The narrative is strong, and the reader sympathizes with Hoon. The last stanza feels like you trying to shove a message down the reader's throat. If you could work in the message you presented in the last stanza into the narrative form you used the first two stanzas, the poem would really rock.

Shi_Min_Xi - I like the short lines mixed in. They really add empahsis where it's needed. Shorter poetry, while unusual from you, works well.

Carth - I'd love to see the vignette version, as I feel expanding this poem can only lead to it being better.

And now, my two newest poems. Lately, with me actually working now, I haven't had much time to write. But I really want to write new poetry, which is why I'm bumping this again - for inspiration. At YDV's forum, I posted the link to my allpoetry account. If you've been there, then you've seen these poems (and the past and future poems I've posted). Even if you have, please read, and I hope you enjoy.

Nature's Call

Brittle leaves spiral
down amongst the dying grass
crushed by puppy feet.

Wrecking Ball

Sentimentality echoes against the barren walls
once holding the promise of things far above us.

But the structure is not sound.

It shakes in its foundation,
crumbles on the inside,
decays without a thought.

Neglect is a funny thing.

The damage is always done without the realization
that you're hurting what you once, and still do love.

Try as we might, we can't repair the scuffed facade,
so we lob rocks through the windows
just to mask the deeper ache within.

And one day we come back, longing for what has been,
to find the edifice wiped away, a bulldozed plot of land.
We smile amidst the tears,
for we must destroy to try again.

[Shi_Min_Xi offline]

....It kinda made me depressed that this fell down to the 10th page... <s>I can only imagine how far down the first Journal went...</s>

Right. So. As per request by our wonderful mod, Stonecreek, I am going to attempt to restart this journal again. First post rules apply. And hopefully more people will join us~ And hopefully I'll keep up with it better this time.

<s>And 'cause end of quarter is tomorrow...My brain went poof-fried onto me. :/</s>

This poem has been a general favorite of mine. And I dunno...Enjoy? (And yes, it is title-less as usual.)

What do you do when your dream is shattered?
When you realize that hope is false
When everything you held to be true
Turns false and backfires on you.

What do you do when your time is close?
Your sanity goes away
You need true emotions
But no one is willing to give them to you.

What do you do when your heart tells you to give up?
That the game is over
That life was just a lie
And your mind starts to believe that.

What do you do when your motivation is just gone?
You can't care about anything
Yet you know it's wrong
But still you just can't focus.

What do you do when your moment is close?
Another step and your fate is sealed
When you know a few minutes can change everything
And you don't know how long to wait...

What do you do when you don't want to fight
You don't want to see another day
When each day just brings misery
But still you go through with it.

What do you do when it's the end?
....What do you do?
[/b]

[Carth]

Ooooo...I needs to write a poem! Should get on that. (Oh...and I changed the name of my previous poem, due to possible confusion with a member of our forum who just happens to live in the same state as the subject of the poem.)

Stonecreek, your haiku was really cute, the other one is really, really deepish, and Shi_Min_Xi...yours was just depressing, I'm sorry.

...well, in lieu of a poem, which would require substantial thought on my part, I give you two limericks I found lying around from that limerick battle in BKO awhile back.

There once was a young boy from France
Who in AIs found his romance
He tried to release her
In order to please her
Dear me, he ain't got a chance.

You can't start a limerick with orange
Cause all it'll rhyme with is door hinge
And cause that's not enough
You start making up stuff
Weird nonsens-y words like this: forange.

[SilverPrince offline]

(Oh...and I changed the name of my previous poem, due to possible confusion with a member of our forum who just happens to live in the same state as the subject of the poem.)

Thank you, because I was wondering about that. Also... hmm... I've always thought I've been too left-brained for poetry... but I suppose I could give it a whack. Don't laugh.

Also, I remember those limericks! Good times, good times. And Stoney, I liked the haiku, and the wrecking ball one was deep. As for you, Shin_Mi_Xi, that poem sounded like someone I know. Or at least someone I knew at a somewhat hard point in their life. But I liked the poem. It made me think.

Where I Live
I live in a place
Full of snow and ice and rain
And road construction.

The day the snow melts,
An army of orange cones invade the streets.
Drivers get cranky and yell and whine
And then potholes break their axles.

Karma.

But I also live somewhere else.
A land full of dreams and ideas
And unwritten stories.
They'll never get finished, anyway.

A land full of jokes and playing around.
It's high school after all.
They can get annoying...
But boys will be boys.

A land full of desire... even lust
Boys will be boys.
Love and lust and crushes
And empassioned moments in dark rooms.
I do not know those dark rooms.

Mother would say that is a good thing.
Because I live in her house.
Under her roof and her control.
And I love my mother.
But I want a different kind of love.

Not like that. Get your head out of the gutter.
But what was I saying? Oh yes.

Where do I live?
I live in a place all my own.
I can point it out on my right hand.
Or I can smirk, and say
I live in my own little world.

But don't we all?

And that's it. Hmm... perhaps I am a poet, but don't even know it. My punctuation was kinda random. Sometimes I felt like it, sometimes not. Ah well. I liked that poem. I just may have to show that to my English teacher or something.

[Carth]

(Oh...and I changed the name of my previous poem, due to possible confusion with a member of our forum who just happens to live in the same state as the subject of the poem.)

Thank you, because I was wondering about that. Also... hmm... I've always thought I've been too left-brained for poetry... but I suppose I could give it a whack. Don't laugh.

Oh. Sorry if you were confused...my internets boyfriend happens to live in Michigan as well, and...yeah. ^^;

Your poem was...very awkward. Sorry to be so honest, but it kind of was. Don't kill me ;;;

Can't think of a poem. Bai bai.

[SilverPrince offline]

Well seeing as how I haven't written anything but a few limericks in who knows how long, I'm not surprised. I wonder if there's a Poetry for Dummies book. I bet there is, they've got those things for everything.

And you know, a lot of the classic poets were often criticized for having weird work. So maybe I'm just a prodigy. Or I suck at poetry. Yeah, I'm gonna go with that second one.

[Stonecreek]

Much replying to do (and a chance to be a poetry critiquer again)! So great to see this thread active again! Thanks for the bump, SMX.

Shi_Min_Xi - I feel the line lengths are disrupting the flow of the poem. I like the message, and the words you use to deliver it, but I can't seem to find a way to read this smoothly aloud.

Carth - Did you write those limmericks? I don't recognize them as my work from the limmerick war, so I'l assume you did. First is sweet and funny, and the second is weird. Orange really DOESN'T rhyme with anything, so the first two lines sound strange.

422 - (having a hard time not ading the Lyoko in front of it) Your poem was really, really good - and that is high praise coming from me, the poetry snob who's edited for a ltierary journal for six years. A bit too personal, perhaps, but it paints vivid imagery and does not rely overly much on cliche words and phrases. It sounds and looks professional. The onyl changes I'd make would to to make out the last line and the two line stanza with the gutter comment. Those two trims would solidify your poem and not veer into too cheesy territory.

Now, I suppose I should post something. No limmericks, for I am limmericked out (see the last hangout and my many offerings). So, to do a couple of short poems or one longer one? Let's do some shorties. The first two are haikus, one traditional (5-7-5 in syllable count, though technically that's wrong), and one not. The second two are tankas (5-7-5-7-7 syllable count). I really DO like parenthesis, don't I?

Gorge
Watch the ground give way
red rocks rolling down hillsides
damming the river

Alight
V of geese
land on frozen pond
brittle ice

The Salaryman in Tokyo
Can't afford Ginza
Can't party in Shibuya
my hundred square feet
lies next to the Haneda
and the jets sing me to sleep

Dusk (Tanka)
Driving home from work
the soft glow of dusk obscures
the oncoming car
in your lane with no headlights
heading the wrong direction.

[ODDCHEEZY offline]

422: I liked it. I really did. You're right in that your punctuation was a bit random. But I liked it.

Stonecreek: Your's were very nice. I like the change of poem style. It's nice to see something different from the norm


-------------------------


You know.
You know that what you did was wrong.
You know that I know.
But you don’t think I will tell him what you’re doing.
He’s sweet.
He’s compassionate.
He’s a better person than you’ll ever hope to be.
You’re using him.
He can’t give it to you.
What you want.
You want another.
You’re spoiled.
You always get what you want.
Not this time…
I’ll get the last word.
You won’t ever hurt my friend again.
You will pay.
You’ll get yours.
You now know that I will tell him.
You won’t have the last laugh.
Not this time.

[Yumi Ulrich offline]

Nice poem I liked how it shifted like when it was like swittching people and that...... Overall I like it!

Miranda Cosgrove-Sonnet

You are more lovely than a pure white dove.
You can be compared to a rainbow.
You are like a pretty angel, my love,
With a beautiful glowing gold halo.
Your eyes are unending stars in the sky.
When u glided into the room I froze.
What is that beautiful scent drifting by,
It smells like a beautiful budding rose.
Leaving, I can only think of your smile.
Your love is like a rare glistening gem.
One day I pray we will walk down the aisle.
Your hair is as long as a flower stem.
As this wonderful day comes to an end,
I cry to meet you again my best friend.

[Malkmusian offline]

Everybody's good, let me say that. I'm not in the mood to criticize.


_____________

Lick My Love Pump, Part 1

by

Nigel Tufnel

_________________

Here we are, the forced jelly of society,
As we stand here and dismiss of what is good and love what is bad.
As more teenagers become retarded through Jason and Aaron,
Let me say this: I've seen people tell better jokes than that.
My world spun in a new direction that day.

As I have seen the forced jelly of society,
Stone the lamb, the feline, and the mouse with their ideals, too.
Soon, they were deprived of their originality and became the supporters,
Of the terrier who keeps on ruining society along with his Himmler,
The bear who has epilepsy.

It works better when we had individuality, but all we did
Was to lie around, wanting to have sex with Fred Durst.
We never gave a crap about what the Can can do,
Nor we cared about Damo, Ralf, Florian, Wolfgang, or Klaus Dinger.
One thing is, they all suck, according to us.

As the lamb, the feline, and the mouse fall on the ground dead,
Their eyes shone with bright ecstasy, wanting the American Dream.
However, we had denied them that and so, they were buried,
Right between the dog and the bear who had epilepsy.
But to a few, they satisfied our dreams.

Come on, I didn't care when the Trinity were executed publicly,
But now I care, as I have everything about this Trinity.
Well, according to one, he loves the feline so much,
He made a whole site all about her,
And the reason why we had murdered them all:
We were too obsessed with Fred Durst and his testosterone.

[Stonecreek]

ODDCHEEZY - Too many periods that inturrupt the flow. not every line needs to be end-stopped like that. I'd actually manipulate this into a more experimental form, like side-by-side lines:
blahblahblahblahblah, (then space and tab over to the end of the previous line) blahblahblahblah
or at least use some commas and uncap some starts of lines. Very engaging voice, though.

Yumi Ulrich - In a sonnet, strong and weak beats are usually alternated, and there tends to be a shift of some sort from the first eight lines to the last six. This poem lacks both, and is only a sonnet in the sense of the rhyme scheme. Those rhymes aren't forced, but the words picked to deliver them (and overall), seem blah. I would like to see more specification to make this interesting. Right now, it's just a general, if adequately-written, sonnet on love.

Malky - The first thing I notice is that this seems not to be written by you, or else you're using an alias or the "by Nigel Tufnel" part is included in the title. The second thing is that the title seems very BKO to me, and I'm not usually one to gripe about such things, but c'mon! That's a double entendre if I ever heard one.

As for the poem itself, it is bizarre, but I almost expect this from you. All f the names, ouside of Fred Durst, mean nothing to me, and that will severly limit or even turn off your audience while reading; it did so to me. Not al first lines need to be cpatialized, nor is punctuation necessary afetr every line. Experiment with longand short lines and varying stanzas to set off this strange voice into an equally strange form.


As for me, I'll go with my darkest poem of the newest batch (last six months or so).

Choking on the Future

This hacking in his lungs
it goes on and on and on
lingering like the stench
of the moldy leftovers pitched
last week near the waste bin
but still caked on under the rim
and left to fester indefinitely.

Feeble light flickers through drapes
that offer only the illusion
of privacy, shelter from the elements
and passersby too intoxicated
to notice the slumped figure in outline
hand at the throat weakly clutching
willing the spasms to stop for one night.

Sleep does not come easy with music
overhead and underneath and in between
the walls of the mind crumbling
like the building's foundation
so much sediment blowing away
lost to the unforgiving breeze
scattered to the corners of existence.

There is nowhere left to turn but forward
to face the maladies yet to strike
to leave behind the memories clouded
with remnants of a brighter age
a time when gagging on your tongue
wasn't even a thought considered
as your head hit the pillow at bedtime.

[SilverPrince offline]

I find it ironic that I just recently neglected to do a 50 point poetry project, and now I am posting in a poetry thread.
ODDCHEEZY: A good poem, I liked it. But as comrade Stoney said, all the periods sorta mess with the flow.
Yumi_Ulrich: You've got the proper rhyme scheme down, but other than that it's not a true sonnet. I think it's got potential, though.
Malky: Lick My Love Pump? Uh... innuendo much? This poem is pretty... uh... random. But that's your style, as it would seem. I don't have much to say about it... I'm no poetry critic.
Stoney: Yes, it is dark-ish, but I liked it. I should show that poem to my mother... it seems like an anti-smoking poem to me, and she needs to quit.

And now I'll try this poetry thing again. But this time, it'll be less personal. Or at least I think it'll be.

Betty
Dedicated to my late grandmother, 1923-2008
You were a gardener.
you grew and raised children,
and grandchildren,
and carrots.

You always worked in that garden of yours,
sowing seeds,
and watering flowers,
and raising your children,
who you kept as bright as the blooms.

Wherever you were, there was always a garden.
in Missouri, where you were raised,
in Germany, where your husband fought in war,
in the bases you occupied, follwing your one love,
in all the places you lived in after your love passed on.

And now my love has passed on,
your garden left untended.
God has called you home again,
leaving us to water your plants,
the plants that are your children,
your grandchildren,
your family,
and the flowers by the window.

I can remember being in the garden with you,
we watered,
and played,
and learned together.

I spent so much time in that garden,
but that was a long time ago.
I grew up and left, to water my own plants,
but I never stopped loving you.
And I never, ever will.

You're in God's garden now,
with the love that left you long ago,
but I'll stay down here,
and make sure your plants,
the family,
never wilt.

I hope that wasn't also too personal. But poetry is supposed to be about what you're feeling and what's going in at the moment, yes?

[Stonecreek]

422 - Of course it's perosnal if it's about your grandmother. It is very sentimental. I liek the first stanza a lot, but by the end the metaphor, though carried out nicely, is left feeling overused, tired. One typo - follwing insteand of following.


Now I just realized I wrote a XANA poem a while back and never posted it. You can read this one as one poem, or two.


Quarantined

This barren blue wasteland
(my prison)
spartan to the extreme
(all cubes and chasms)
devoid of all entities
(save me)

One day I will escape
(I don't belong here)
defeat my captors
(their ways confound me)
make the world pay
(I will conquer it all)

[Carth]

Stonecreek: Short, sweet and charming, all of them. ^_^

ODDCHEEZY: Holds a sort of wild passion in its short sentences. Very sweet.

Yumi Ulrich: I dunno the real definition of a sonnet, but I think the rhythm is a bit weak. Otherwise, it's alright- though the title...Miranda Cosgrove?

Malky: Uh... :D?

Stonecreek again: Beautiful, yet creepy. o_o

422: Awwww! So sweet and sad. I love how you made the comparisons between raising children and raising a garden kind of blur together. Does you need a hug after this? *prepares for possible hug*

Stonecreek yet again: Kind of like your little poems a few posts up- not long-winded, yet still punctual and powerful. Nice use of parentheses as a style...thingy.

Well, here tonight I has a poem...well, it's really more like a drabble thing. Are those allowed? I guess I'll see.

Untitled

An infatuation is a mysterious thing; a passion, a longing, one completely wrenched from a compotent control or master. Sometimes, I wonder why this is. If we want, really, to love, should we not be able to choose what it is the heart desires? Is that not the very meaning of love itself, to admire another for viable reasons? But no, my viral limerences are of greater authority than my conscious musings. They take my fantasy, steer it wrong, tempt it with false promises of safety, beauty, comfort, whilst my poor, suffering reason conspires to steer me kindly from the poisoned mists of their subtle, rose-tinted heaven. Perhaps someday these harsh patterns will leave me alone, to wither and perish from lack of nectar. However, until those days are at hand, I must make myself content to travel on, going forth through masked angels that still guard my house.

[Stonecreek]

Carth - A schweet read. Limerences? Huh, but cool.

Which poem to choose, which poem to choose...? Let's go with the tanka string.

Across a Bridge, Waiting

You won't cross over,
won't take those hesitant steps
to reunite us,
to close this gaping expanse -
you'd rather jump off the edge,

weather the landing
the uncertainty it brings
than stay here with me,
trying to cross rotted planks
waiting to break underfoot.

I would be willing
to plunge into the unknown
but for one reason -
you've shown you won't take those steps,
you're afraid of the results.

We're at a crossroads:
you at your end, I at mine,
bridge swaying between.
What use is spanning this gulf
when it will get us nowhere?

[Carth]

Stonecreek- So sad...and it could mean a thousand different things, which is almost sadder.

Ok, so in an attempt to revive this thread, I shall share POEMS! I've been keeping a little file where I write them at random moments of inspiration for about a week now. I have four and a half-completed fifth so far. The third's kind of personal, so I'll post the first, second and fourth, quite imaginatively called...1, 2, and 4. They're all true stories. Yay.

1
They’re teaching us poems in Literature class.
Mounds upon mounds of centuries-dead men, arranging iambs to form feminine portraits.
Petrarch of Laura, Wyatt’s Anne Boleyn, Sidney’s fair Stella, neé Penny.

I’m not the kind to fall slave to meter.
If you should change your ideas to satisfy a poem,
Then your poetic ideas fall changed.
I’ll write and make it pretty.
Maybe it’ll be in meter, maybe it won’t.
I don’t care, as long as it’s my words.

I like writing this way.
It’s fun things.

2
We exchanged compliments in Seminar today.
We wrote them out on an index card, and handed them
To teachers, who put them in envelopes.
My envelope was nice. It was supposed to be.

I’m creative four times over. Drawer. Good at anime.
Shy, yet lively and nice.
Confident.
Except not really.

Compliments.
No insults.
The picture is incomplete.

4
I heard them speaking today.
Talking about the German band,
Claiming boyfriends from their number.
Three boys. One shemale.

I wish I could distinguish clever taunts from certain words.
For them, I can never tell.
I’m certain I heard them make fun,
Or perhaps that was someone else.

Their music is alright.
Their looks are hilarious.
I think they’re funny.
Nothing more.

[Phoenix Wolf offline]

I like that... Ok here is mine... This is the one I am most proud of.

The Curse Of Death

To an early grave descend,
Die a foe and not a friend. I conjure the spirits from the world below.
Across the lake of death you'll row.
Pain and death they will now deal,
Thy soul hast been stamped by a bloody seal.
You shall now walk in agony's field,
A figure on a dying shield.
Upon this night you go alone, your fate is marked in ebony stone.
To the darkest one you'll bow,
Eternal suffering beginning now.
Never again shall you see the light,
Trapped for ever in the depths of night;
Your hope replaced by malice and fright.
Immortality some may steal,
Life's revenge they shall now feel.
Enemies beg for promises made,
Fall like leaves before the wrath of my blade.
Your spirit broken, your mind is bound;
Ice cold shackles shall drag you down.
Wailing desprate voices cry,
haunted forever by his pale watch eye.
Beware of those who wish you ill,
The assassins of shadow and stealth that kill.
Your only defense is truth and love,
And the mighty gods above.
The secret to the dark one's bane,
A shaft made of pure friendship's flame,
And in the darkness take true aim;
Thy only hope to end his reign.
Do not venture down this dark path,
For you shall breath your very last.
And fall into his chilling claws,
Tumble into that waiting maw;
Captured by the curses jaws.