JJ Posted April 14, 2009 Share Posted April 14, 2009 Both awesome. It made me laugh. i was about to post my Haiku on Josef Fritzl. but i changed my mind Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
New Born Lee Posted April 16, 2009 Share Posted April 16, 2009 Writer's Block. In my life there's a firey noose, Around a bottleneck with a stopper on. And a turkey's head flops, As the hand of death knocks, And puts the chained bulldog collar on. In my life there's a paper blank, Another bird flies like a raven flies crow. For the pencil lies straight, And the mind can only wait, For girls and love it doesn't even know. I can't decide if the last line should be : For girls and love it doesn't even know. Or: For a taste of love it doesn't even know. The first one compliments the clumsiness of the speaker who has writers block, while the second one rings better. So I'm in a bit of a dilemma... Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
thom yorke Posted April 16, 2009 Share Posted April 16, 2009 the burial is forgiven but the pinwheel still turns spiral, spiral the lake freezes and the balance is reset Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
planzer Posted April 17, 2009 Share Posted April 17, 2009 That one's lovely. I really do like that one. -- I have a neck with a mole on it! There's nothing better than that! Jonny has pale skin and glasses, He's very good at school, he is! I have a neck with a mole on it! There's nothing better than that! Eliza's a ginger, she's funny, When she laughs she snots everywhere! I have a neck with a mole on it! There's nothing better than that! Bill doesn't like hugs or touching, And keeps the green blocks in a row! I have a neck with a mole on it! There's nothing better than that! Sarah has dark skin and hair Like the hungry people on TV. I have a neck with a mole on it! There's nothing better than that! -- (Bleh, I have serious writer's block, that took about 15 mins, I don't like it.) Thank you =) Your poem kinda reminds me of some Jim Carroll work. Just the same sort of style with each little mini stanza thing. Its not a bad thing either =D Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Guest QueenOfNerds Posted April 17, 2009 Share Posted April 17, 2009 the burial is forgiven but the pinwheel still turns spiral, spiral the lake freezes and the balance is reset I like this one, quite sad. Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
L. Posted April 17, 2009 Share Posted April 17, 2009 She waits for a sign And the understanding of her shame Search for her reflection in the light of a flame For the answer she sacrifices her mind But the knowledge searched she will never find Tic toc the clock on the mantel unleash The minutes separating her from the pain The ignorance has her bound and restrain Refusing to grant her last dying wish All that remains for her is eternal anguish Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Tessa Posted April 17, 2009 Share Posted April 17, 2009 the beauty in this is unbelievable he made this inconceavable you listen you feel you think you steel what he thought when he wrote a song totally off the top of my head... Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
ninja Posted April 18, 2009 Share Posted April 18, 2009 sleep well my dear, i wish i could have seen you this year. you were brighter than the brightest star, but i can't find you, you've travelled too far. I regret that I didn't get to know you well, but the memories of you, I cannot sell. You remain in our hearts, burning like a fire. You will not be forgotten, You will never be lost. rest in peace Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
L. Posted April 18, 2009 Share Posted April 18, 2009 sleep well my dear, i wish i could have seen you this year. you were brighter than the brightest star, but i can't find you, you've travelled too far. I regret that I didn't get to know you well, but the memories of you, I cannot sell. You remain in our hearts, burning like a fire. You will not be forgotten, You will never be lost. rest in peace Beautiful... Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Spyke Posted April 19, 2009 Share Posted April 19, 2009 What would you do, if you were given a million? Would you invest in property, and make it a billion? Would you give to charity, an honerable cause. Would you use it to bribe Santa, Mr S Clause. Would you give to the needy? Or would you be greedy? If I had a million what would I do? Without hesitation, i'd give it to you. Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
lensip max Posted April 19, 2009 Share Posted April 19, 2009 Persephone 2.0 They called her the sea nymph: She made them ache, with her Sun-coloured hair, and sea-change eyes, High stepping through monet's world, Believing in it. Maybe you didn't pull her down with you, Undone, marred by your deep need to possess Something so untouchable. But what compulsion, then, drove her to follow? Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Spyke Posted April 20, 2009 Share Posted April 20, 2009 We are the children of the night, We live by our own rules and laws, We can be kind, but angry we're a sight, We'll nail our enemies through the throat to their doors. Dance the dance of eternal life, throughout the darkest hours We'll drain the blood, that pumps within the chest. Come dawn, we'll head to our frightful tower. And we shall sleep the eternal rest. We'll while away the day, locked within our funeral box. Come sundown we'll awaken the way as would awaken the hungered fox. For blood is the life, And we'll rob you of yours, more surely than the sharpest knife. And when we're done, we'll leave you on the house floors. Meh, hope you guys like it. Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
thom yorke Posted April 20, 2009 Share Posted April 20, 2009 Spyke, it's ok i guess, but i would advise breaking through the limits you set for yourself with your rigid stanzas and rhyme schemes off the top of me dome: the stream ebbs and grows until bursting, the town below an operatic symphony, the final movement surf's up aboard a tidal wave Music saves the day ok so i lifted one line from the beach boys' "Surf's Up" but i was listening to it at the time so BACK OFF Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Spyke Posted April 21, 2009 Share Posted April 21, 2009 Spyke, it's ok i guess, but i would advise breaking through the limits you set for yourself with your rigid stanzas and rhyme schemes Cheers for the advice Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
JJ Posted April 21, 2009 Share Posted April 21, 2009 The tale of the angry prostitute, the yellow turtle, and the very very very long poem title im not really going to write a poem based on an angry prostitute and a yellow turtle, but some of the poems here are WIN! moar plz :happy: Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
thom yorke Posted April 21, 2009 Share Posted April 21, 2009 The tale of the angry prostitute, the yellow turtle and the very very very long poem title on the side of the road sat a prostitute fucked, scrambled, and of course, low on loot on the sides of her mind tumbled things complicating things one would not generally approve of a hooker contemplating thoughts of the life she had chosen, specifically her profession every nice guy she met always took the wrong impression every other guy just paid up and banged her as she descended into despair, regret, and anger it was then while she fumed that she was joined by a strange creature a weird as hell yellow turtle, a bonafide freak of nature from behind eyes of rage the slut beheld this strange sensation her anger soon placated by budding inspiration the turtle had spurred creative feelings last felt who knows when something in her stirred, from somewhere deep within no more STDs, sex for cash, or strange scrotums from now on only Steinbeck and very very very long-titled poems that title was just too good to waste oh and Spyke i just read this one: What would you do, if you were given a million? Would you invest in property, and make it a billion? Would you give to charity, an honerable cause. Would you use it to bribe Santa, Mr S Clause. Would you give to the needy? Or would you be greedy? If I had a million what would I do? Without hesitation, i'd give it to you. i liked it. cute stuff like this is always fun great turn at the end too Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Spyke Posted April 21, 2009 Share Posted April 21, 2009 The tale of the angry prostitute, the yellow turtle and the very very very long poem title on the side of the road sat a prostitute fucked, scrambled, and of course, low on loot on the sides of her mind tumbled things complicating things one would not generally approve of a hooker contemplating thoughts of the life she had chosen, specifically her profession every nice guy she met always took the wrong impression every other guy just paid up and banged her as she descended into despair, regret, and anger it was then while she fumed that she was joined by a strange creature a weird as hell yellow turtle, a bonafide freak of nature from behind eyes of rage the slut beheld this strange sensation her anger soon placated by budding inspiration the turtle had spurred creative feelings last felt who knows when something in her stirred, from somewhere deep within no more STDs, sex for cash, or strange scrotums from now on only Steinbeck and very very very long-titled poems that title was just too good to waste haha, good one. oh and Spyke i just read this one: i liked it. cute stuff like this is always fun great turn at the end too Cheers Why not add a poem eh? The hungry fox lusts for meat He ends the day with a rabbit at his feet He bows his head To feast upon the dead and cold, furry rabbit leg. ... Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Contrad!ction. Posted April 22, 2009 Share Posted April 22, 2009 Last one I wrote was way back, called The Warning, so... Hippo on the moon being chased by a gaggle of geese with huge gas masks covering their head to the tune of "Twinkle Twinkle Little Star" or "ABCDEFGHIJKLMNOPQRSTUVWXYZ" depending on your mood at the time. Hippo hippo on the moon How long till your time is due? Above the world mildly high But lower than stars in the sky Hippo hippo on the moon, How long till your time is due? No oxygen for you to breathe No Ozone layer to hide beneath Gaggle, gaggle, here they come Demon Geese near, yielding guns, Oh my god you're gonna die! Above the world so mildly high. Masks are covering their faces, Arms held out in death-embraces, AK-47s aim You're the only one to blame If you hadn't moved from Cydonia The blame wouldn't be on ya. Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang! goes the guns, For their sport and evil fun, Blood spurts from every crevasse, You weigh a seventh of your mass! Pool of death red on the floor, Hippo on the moon no more. Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Guest QueenOfNerds Posted April 23, 2009 Share Posted April 23, 2009 Sick of the dark, Tired of light. My mind follows a hollow trail of songs you never left for me. I am agitated, at a loss I look through my ploss and a barlow. Can't find anything that pleases, the cosmos teases and taunts me. Many years of happiness, I must confess, I know he doesn't want me. Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Spyke Posted April 24, 2009 Share Posted April 24, 2009 Feel the blood rush fast within, I'm so excited, I can't wait to begin. My hands fumble with excitement, soon, i'm ready to procide. This time it starts slow, But the pace soon builds. Within 30 mins it's over, my needs fulfilled. I needed it then, and I need it now. It's amazing, like a drug somehow. I'll probably expand it later, gotta go to bed now, a cookie goes to who knows what it's about Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
JJ Posted April 24, 2009 Share Posted April 24, 2009 The tale of the angry prostitute, the yellow turtle and the very very very long poem title on the side of the road sat a prostitute fucked, scrambled, and of course, low on loot on the sides of her mind tumbled things complicating things one would not generally approve of a hooker contemplating thoughts of the life she had chosen, specifically her profession every nice guy she met always took the wrong impression every other guy just paid up and banged her as she descended into despair, regret, and anger it was then while she fumed that she was joined by a strange creature a weird as hell yellow turtle, a bonafide freak of nature from behind eyes of rage the slut beheld this strange sensation her anger soon placated by budding inspiration the turtle had spurred creative feelings last felt who knows when something in her stirred, from somewhere deep within no more STDs, sex for cash, or strange scrotums from now on only Steinbeck and very very very long-titled poems :awesome::awesome::awesome::awesome::awesome::awesome::awesome: that is pure sex edit: HOLY SHIZZLE. I BROKE THE AWESOMETER Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Guest QueenOfNerds Posted May 4, 2009 Share Posted May 4, 2009 Everything is dancing for me, silver moon and parting clouds, sounds of river bells are chiming, every single ripple rhyming. I heard the music, joined the dance, with fingers pressing soft and slowly, keys sink down in variation, each will reach above it's station, trying to grow above the sky. Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
trvrphlps Posted May 4, 2009 Share Posted May 4, 2009 Girls cunts are very evil I would rather have sex with meat Make a whole inside the pork ribs and bang it lots and lots of times the only problem with fucking uncooked meat my knob gets covered in slime. Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
New Born Lee Posted May 4, 2009 Share Posted May 4, 2009 Everything is dancing for me, silver moon and parting clouds, sounds of river bells are chiming, every single ripple rhyming. I heard the music, joined the dance, with fingers pressing soft and slowly, keys sink down in variation, each will reach above it's station, trying to grow above the sky. Is this about a piano? It's lovely. Girls cunts are very evil I would rather have sex with meat Make a whole inside the pork ribs and bang it lots and lots of times the only problem with fucking uncooked meat my knob gets covered in slime. Hmm, the last two lines appear cleverly contradictory, since your knob would get covered in ladyslime anyway, which means you'd be referring to 'uncooked meat' as girls cunts (as, ahem, opposed to boys cunts). Which MEANS the speaker really likes girls cunts, more that he has a love-hate relationship with them. Careful analysis reveals it to be a very deep poem indeed. Hmm. Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Guest QueenOfNerds Posted May 5, 2009 Share Posted May 5, 2009 Is this about a piano? It's lovely. Thank you! yes it is;) Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
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