PDA

View Full Version : who writes poems?



babycraze{Angie}
11-26-2004, 12:05 PM
if anybody writes poems, post em here so u can show what ur made of, or what u say or w/e, and no talking shit ppl. post poems if u have em.

here's my latest one:

?
To look out and beyond
You see it first, clear as sky
To admire it, so fond
But it disappears, like the sky

What is it?
It, nothing good of a name
Reality and beyondness
Is more of The Truth

Some may never understand
Once told of this
Others may never know
May by mistake or by Truth

This is only my name
The Truth: Reality and Beyondness
But This might just remain
?
You have no idea of This
Unless you understand
What this Earth
May truly be




that's my latest, i have a shitload of others but i wanna see what u ppl have.

MirandaV
11-26-2004, 12:50 PM
Mhh, this is a great thread.
I usually don't write poems though..

evilmonkey
11-26-2004, 12:56 PM
good poem!
Can't write them myself though. I write stories

lousyskater
11-26-2004, 01:10 PM
i couldn't write a poem if my life depended on it.
________
MissBounty (http://camslivesexy.com/cam/MissBounty)

Vera
11-26-2004, 01:12 PM
I've written one I consider semi-good.

SicN Twisted
11-26-2004, 01:14 PM
I used to post my poems here all the time. I don't anymore because I act so arrogant here I don't feel like my poems will live up to my persona.

babycraze{Angie}
11-26-2004, 02:25 PM
well not all poems have to live up to ur reputation

check this poem i made before the recent one:
In Deep

I feel so alive
I feel so confused
I feel I can't be revived
I feel I've been abused

All by you
Whoever you are
I need to lead myself through
And I have only gotten so far

I want out
But I want to stay
I feel I'm breaking down
I feel I can't be away

To feel loved
To feel hated
To feel liked
To feel envied
Is all to feel

To be or be able
Is the more better
To be able to think
Not only to think
To think for yourself
Is able and above all

To have one who knows
Who knows many things
Is even worse; deadly
It is I of what I am
I am this
Completely and throughly
And I am in deep

i really like that one, all my poems were made for a reason, for most, i forget why i made them.

babycraze{Angie}
11-26-2004, 02:34 PM
you guys/girls would probably like this one, i sure as hell do, one of my best.

What's Wrong?

Bad depression is me
I've never noticed before
It's what I will be
Forever, ever more

I hardly ever do cry
Only twice is has happened
It is both you and I

My family is crossing
I feel I should too
But I am nothing
So why should I?

Even so, I am growing
Growing to be a new person
Learning new and old things
Even remembering...
Remembering old memories

I feel a balance...
A balance between good and bad
Everything seems to be that way

Just when things get to be clear
They blur to become more difficult
More difficult than before
The world changes more and more,
More violence, more wars, more chaos
There is no safe place to be
At least not anymore
So...please tell me...
What's wrong?

i wanna see sumbody answer that for me, but without using any of my words or nething quoteing my poem, let me see if nebody could think about it and be able to understand what I'm trying to give out. :cool:

sKratch
11-26-2004, 02:36 PM
I used to write poems all the time and was pretty convinced that they were god's gift to literature. They probably sucked. I wrote this masterpiece during an anthropology lecture a few days ago:

This is a story
Of love and glory
The former being the latter
Intimate and gorey
Locust Sex

babycraze{Angie}
11-26-2004, 02:44 PM
I used to write poems all the time and was pretty convinced that they were god's gift to literature. They probably sucked. I wrote this masterpiece during an anthropology lecture a few days ago:

This is a story
Of love and glory
The former being the latter
Intimate and gorey
Locust Sex
lol funny and yet very kul man. :)

Dive
11-26-2004, 04:54 PM
I used to write a lot of them years ago, nowadays I edit some occasionally for college. The ones I did write were probably juvenile garbage lacking any poetic techniques that would enhance its meaning or make it interesting. In other words, like most poems written by people who don't know what they're doing. But I'm taking a poetry class in the spring so hopefully I've improved.

wheelchairman
11-26-2004, 04:56 PM
ah but Dive, surely you don't believe that art must have rules do you?

Dive
11-26-2004, 05:17 PM
I wouldn't say that a person must follow rules when creating art, but I have personal preferences when both creating and critiquing.

JoY
11-26-2004, 05:18 PM
my signature is one of mine. but in a different form, or else it'd look funny.
here's one other:


the Psychiatrist

Every single day
Their stories of disease
A thousand realities astray
Use of his expertise
Billions of recordings
Files spread everywhere
Anyone would cringe
If the content he would share
Desperation and confusion
Of the people we call insane
Stuck in their illusion
Constant mental pain
Words of hatred and of fear
On paper with ink combined
Forever locked in here
Forever in his mind
Not a cure there exists
For any sickness that he treats
Sanity in eternal mist
For every patient that he meets
A thousand soundless voices
To silence he brings
Non-existing noises
Supposed Gods and kings
He takes away their crown
Their illusions and their dreams
He hacks away their ground
The base of their world that seems
And he realises, every time again
As he has watched them fall,
It’s not just these women and these men
None of us is sane at all



& I wouldn't normally post up this.

babycraze{Angie}
11-26-2004, 05:23 PM
my signature is one of mine. but in a different form, or else it'd look funny.
here's one other:


the Psychiatrist

Every single day
Their stories of disease
A thousand realities astray
Use of his expertise
Billions of recordings
Files spread everywhere
Anyone would cringe
If the content he would share
Desperation and confusion
Of the people we call insane
Stuck in their illusion
Constant mental pain
Words of hatred and of fear
On paper with ink combined
Forever locked in here
Forever in his mind
Not a cure there exists
For any sickness that he treats
Sanity in eternal mist
For every patient that he meets
A thousand soundless voices
To silence he brings
Non-existing noises
Supposed Gods and kings
He takes away their crown
Their illusions and their dreams
He hacks away their ground
The base of their world that seems
And he realises, every time again
As he has watched them fall,
It’s not just these women and these men
None of us is sane at all



& I wouldn't normally post up this.
so y did u post it then? btw, real niiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiice poem :D

JoY
11-26-2004, 05:36 PM
I'm under the influence of alcohol. I actually dislike my poetry a hell of a lot.

but thank you so much. =)

babycraze{Angie}
11-26-2004, 05:40 PM
well i don't think my poetry could EVER compete with ANY poets cuz mine all suck, and drinking is completely not me, unless it's Pina Colada with cherries or Wine Coolers, THAN i can make an exception :D . but ur poetry is really REALLY good, they have real good stories to them, that's what poetry needs, but my kind isn't stories, they ARE stories about me that actually took place. but nonetheless, my poetry could never compete with any real good poets, ESPECIALLY Robert Smith, OMFG!!!!!!!!!!!!! HE IS ONE OF THE BEST POETS I HAVE EVER COME TO KNOW!!!!!!!!!!! his words are so deep, in my opinion.

TheUnholyNightbringer
11-26-2004, 05:40 PM
Ooh! Eternal thank you's to the person who made this topic. I do write poetry. And I had such a hard time picking one to post that I just had to post two. Sorry 'bout that and all.

Dark Humour, Dark Rhyme

They say he’s a natural witticism;
True, he did hold certain regards
For the laughter of children, now mocking
And blackened with age.
The skylight of New York, Las Vegas,
Could not draw him: still cannot.
Though somehow, he remembers them,
Perhaps as splintered de ja vu’s,
Or maybe just reminders of some
Bittersweet legacy.
No point in asking me, I’m no clairvoyant.
Though, just once, spare a thought
For a single lonely funnyman.

Seems incomplete, somehow. I know.
I feel it too. Unfortunately,
This is no simplistic novel,
Nor book-on-tape,
Or box office hit.
I can provide you with no happy ending.
You will have to make it yourself.

--

Revelation, Exodus

Find your way, journeyman,
Man of philosophy. You stumble here,
Your mind a flurry of delight… though passion
Slinks through, and now I sense a merest trace
Of a distant despair. I see it in your face,
My friend; I see it ever now the clearer.
Obviously, that leaden path
Has become far too accustomed
To those greying eyes, that pale, vacant stare:
It is plain to me, my son,
That now, though some abides, much of your greatness,
Your glory, (your golden teardrop, if you will)
Is lost.

But, then again, who am I to pry?
But do not teach me your ways, journeyman.
Your kind are not welcome here.

babycraze{Angie}
11-26-2004, 05:45 PM
i was the one who created this post. i have been writing poetry for sum short time and in that short time, i have written over 40 poems and still counting :) the early ones are really lame becuz those were my starters, but the latest (which i have already posted) are far greater than i have yet to write. and ur poems are really good, i KNEW there had to be poets here, that's y i made this thread, cuz i love poetry so much.

JoY
11-26-2004, 05:46 PM
well i don't think my poetry could EVER compete with ANY poets cuz mine all suck, and drinking is completely not me, unless it's Pina Colada with cherries or Wine Coolers, THAN i can make an exception :D . but ur poetry is really REALLY good, they have real good stories to them, that's what poetry needs, but my kind isn't stories, they ARE stories about me that actually took place. but nonetheless, my poetry could never compete with any real good poets, ESPECIALLY Robert Smith, OMFG!!!!!!!!!!!!! HE IS ONE OF THE BEST POETS I HAVE EVER COME TO KNOW!!!!!!!!!!! his words are so deep, in my opinion.
my poetry are mostly stories about me, too.=) thanks for the compliment.
& pina colada is absolutely fucking brilliant. ;p

TheUnholyNightbringer
11-26-2004, 05:47 PM
Poets are everywhere. We're like locusts. But good locusts.

babycraze{Angie}
11-26-2004, 05:57 PM
here are others that which i like to look over a lot too:

Dear Love

I hope you find happiness
I thought I had with you
But I guess I have nothing but loneliness
I guess you seem to have to

I will always have patience
But I guess you wanted more
More than me

I guess I will leave
And never come back
I am only one to heave
But I will not lose track

So I say to you good-bye
My dear love

--

Old Friends

We used to fight so much
During our very youth
We were always crushed
You were red, I was blue

Years have past
Since we last fought
It seems to go by so fast
When we were last taught

It was that very hi
That had opened my eyes
To see that of what you are
And I thought it would be far

Since then I thought it to be real
I spoke only truth
I guess it didn't matter
Since I only got part of you

You struck me so hard
So hard I felt I lost a brother

I'm not sure
But it almost felt you wanted more
More between us

Yes, you done the right thing
But you just don't see
That I have lost all my trust
My trust in you

Don't try to find it
Because it is lost
Lost in The Lost Area
My natural birth place

I will always remember you
As we once were
Old friends

--

Confused, Lost, Hate, Love, Depressed

All my words are what I feel
I have never known this such
And I know this will never heal
I never even got to feel your touch

In my heart, yes
But not to caress

I have never known to feel this way
No one could or can ever make my day
At least...not as you did
But I now know
And have done
To let you go

I might seem so strong
Yes, but of what I feel...
Will never leave me

Confused, Lost, Hate, Love, Depressed
And I don't think I shall...
Ever love again


serious poems that i look back on so many times. i really love those poems.

babycraze{Angie}
11-26-2004, 06:05 PM
my poetry are mostly stories about me, too.=) thanks for the compliment.
& pina colada is absolutely fucking brilliant. ;p
netimez man. even tho i state a lot of things i say in other threads with me being a complete bitch and all, that's just me becuz i state what i say and think, i don't just keep my mouth shut, this world in general needs leaders who try to contribute to this world, and i wish to be one of them.

JoY
11-26-2004, 06:08 PM
how old are you now? I think you do have potential (drunken isa says). just keep writing & stay critical towards your own work. oh, even I got published (even though I just sent it in as a joke), so I believe almost anyone could.

babycraze{Angie}
11-26-2004, 06:12 PM
how old are you now? I think you do have potential (drunken isa says). just keep writing & stay critical towards your own work. oh, even I got published (even though I just sent it in as a joke), so I believe almost anyone could.
lol!!!!!!!!! u'd be very and i do mean VERY surprised at my age,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,. im 12 at the moment, in less than 2 months i'll be 13 *pssssssssssssst whispers*it's in my profile *looks around* ;)

TheUnholyNightbringer
11-26-2004, 06:13 PM
Getting published in anthologies is fairly easy. Getting your own collection published, now that's hard.

And if other people are showing other stuff..

Hideaway

No longer do I wish to fall
WIthin these walls. I must cascade
To further pools.. no longer do comforts
Of home and family sustain me..
Darker flags, whispering, billowing,
Call out to me..
I descend the leaden stairs.
Every creak seems more to me, and yet
My legs will not desist. One task more
I must do for myself.
Further down I creep.

People talk of me.
He darts here and there, they say. Under cover
Of darkness. They are mistaken -
The darkness works for me.
The pool is mine; life is mine.
Though a different existence..
Something stirrs.

My secret place.. no longer secret.
I abandon it.
Simply casualty..
Simple loss.

--

Exaggerations

Since that time.. I now contain no will no desire
To stretch the truth beyond it’s natural limits.
Surely empty narrative is appropriate
For such a cause; though God should strike me down
In my place.. I hold no fear.

Spin doctors, anarchists, all my domain.
Splintered politicians, empty pools of light,
Of water, of lost affairs now more potent,
More vengeful,
Than they ever would have seemed to such an untrained eye.

What would it do to make that edge
Just a tiny bit more sharp?

I hold no care nor conscience for such empty falls
That these men will take. The space on such a roadside
Will seem lessened, now.. It’s very existence
Choked
With such skeletons of wanton men.
That was my doing. And how proud I seem today.

babycraze{Angie}
11-26-2004, 06:17 PM
Getting published in anthologies is fairly easy. Getting your own collection published, now that's hard.

And if other people are showing other stuff..

Hideaway

No longer do I wish to fall
WIthin these walls. I must cascade
To further pools.. no longer do comforts
Of home and family sustain me..
Darker flags, whispering, billowing,
Call out to me..
I descend the leaden stairs.
Every creak seems more to me, and yet
My legs will not desist. One task more
I must do for myself.
Further down I creep.

People talk of me.
He darts here and there, they say. Under cover
Of darkness. They are mistaken -
The darkness works for me.
The pool is mine; life is mine.
Though a different existence..
Something stirrs.

My secret place.. no longer secret.
I abandon it.
Simply casualty..
Simple loss.

--

Exaggerations

Since that time.. I now contain no will no desire
To stretch the truth beyond it’s natural limits.
Surely empty narrative is appropriate
For such a cause; though God should strike me down
In my place.. I hold no fear.

Spin doctors, anarchists, all my domain.
Splintered politicians, empty pools of light,
Of water, of lost affairs now more potent,
More vengeful,
Than they ever would have seemed to such an untrained eye.

What would it do to make that edge
Just a tiny bit more sharp?

I hold no care nor conscience for such empty falls
That these men will take. The space on such a roadside
Will seem lessened, now.. It’s very existence
Choked
With such skeletons of wanton men.
That was my doing. And how proud I seem today.
x-tremely nice :D

TheUnholyNightbringer
11-26-2004, 06:23 PM
here are others that which i like to look over a lot too:

Dear Love

I hope you find happiness
I thought I had with you
But I guess I have nothing but loneliness
I guess you seem to have to

I will always have patience
But I guess you wanted more
More than me

I guess I will leave
And never come back
I am only one to heave
But I will not lose track

So I say to you good-bye
My dear love

--

Old Friends

We used to fight so much
During our very youth
We were always crushed
You were red, I was blue

Years have past
Since we last fought
It seems to go by so fast
When we were last taught

It was that very hi
That had opened my eyes
To see that of what you are
And I thought it would be far

Since then I thought it to be real
I spoke only truth
I guess it didn't matter
Since I only got part of you

You struck me so hard
So hard I felt I lost a brother

I'm not sure
But it almost felt you wanted more
More between us

Yes, you done the right thing
But you just don't see
That I have lost all my trust
My trust in you

Don't try to find it
Because it is lost
Lost in The Lost Area
My natural birth place

I will always remember you
As we once were
Old friends

--

Confused, Lost, Hate, Love, Depressed

All my words are what I feel
I have never known this such
And I know this will never heal
I never even got to feel your touch

In my heart, yes
But not to caress

I have never known to feel this way
No one could or can ever make my day
At least...not as you did
But I now know
And have done
To let you go

I might seem so strong
Yes, but of what I feel...
Will never leave me

Confused, Lost, Hate, Love, Depressed
And I don't think I shall...
Ever love again


serious poems that i look back on so many times. i really love those poems.

Your style reminds me very much of Dharka, an Indian poet. He writes with the same short, snappy sentences with a lot of hidden meaning. Very impressive.

babycraze{Angie}
11-26-2004, 06:26 PM
My Words

Everybody sees me
I don't know how
I can't let it be
They think,"Wow!"

It annoys me that people think I am
That I am something I'm not
I feel like I am crammed
In a shell that I soon will leave

People don't believe for what I have spread
That would just show
Of how little they know

She says She trust me
I don't believe Her words
Only if She would show it
For better not for worse

My life is a complicated cycle
A cycle of unknown
A cycle that cannot be found
My life is something I call home

I may hurt myself,
Mentally and physically,
But nothing can hurt me besides me

All of my cuts, scars, and brusies
Of my past and present
Don't hurt me
But I still feel the cuts open themselves
And continue to grow

I have my words
Only to keep
Not to give away
But I can only say
What I think and feel

As it is
My Words

that is another of my fav poems

TheUnholyNightbringer
11-26-2004, 06:28 PM
Calm, now. Let other people get theirs in.

JoY
11-26-2004, 06:30 PM
Getting published in anthologies is fairly easy. Getting your own collection published, now that's hard.

no it's not. ;p
I've been offered to publish my work in a collection by two publishers, but I've declined. it's not for me; I write for fun, not for books, or credits.

TheUnholyNightbringer
11-26-2004, 06:32 PM
Damn you. Wish I had that. I've been trying to get my own collection for years.

JoY
11-26-2004, 06:35 PM
now I feel bad. :/

you know, I'm only a Dutchie. my vocabulary is very limited. your creativity & that combined should certainly get you somewhere. I think your poetry is impressive. (not even to mention I'm 20 already & you still have years to come, before you'll be my age)

babycraze{Angie}
11-26-2004, 06:45 PM
like i said, i have a shitload but the ones that i have posted are my favs and are the best that i have yet to make :D around at my age, i don't think i could come up to an Indian poet, that would be sumone like Robert Smith being a religious person. and that would be WOW!!!!! but me? no, im not even good. and when im asked to write stories for school or poems or even draw, i draw or write them all crappy cuz i hate to do that for other ppl, i only do what i do for me and me only. i like writing stories, poems, and drawing but just for me. :o

babycraze{Angie}
11-27-2004, 08:20 AM
my poems suck nehow, i just wanted to post them since this is my thread and i do have poems to contribute to my thread. that's the whole point.

TheUnholyNightbringer
11-27-2004, 11:59 AM
I thought the point was to ask other people if they wrote poetry?

Inshane
11-27-2004, 12:08 PM
I write songs/lyrics, but nobody knows about my writing accept for my band.
I don't like people reading it and nobody apart of my band does.

So im not going to post it. sorry, or not.

I do want to say that a lot of you guys are real good. JoY, TheUnholyNightbringer etc.

wheelchairman
11-27-2004, 12:11 PM
I thought the point was to ask other people if they wrote poetry?
You're just scared he might steal your thunder.

JoY
11-27-2004, 12:12 PM
thank you, Nina. =) that's real nice to hear.

sKratch
11-27-2004, 12:13 PM
I write songs/lyrics, but nobody knows about my writing accept for my band.
I don't like people reading it and nobody apart of my band does.

So im not going to post it. sorry, or not.

I do want to say that a lot of you guys are real good. JoY, TheUnholyNightbringer etc.
So you don't plan on performing?

TheUnholyNightbringer
11-27-2004, 12:15 PM
You're just scared he might steal your thunder.

Hehe. Naw. I'm not gonna post any more. 4 is more than enough.

And thanks Inshane. =)

Inshane
11-27-2004, 12:21 PM
So you don't plan on performing?

Actually we will. But I think its a different thing when its a song and actually 'played'. Than when it are words that describe my feelings.
Music brings it up to another level. I don't really know how to explain it.

ThrashedThrasher
11-27-2004, 01:22 PM
Eh...

You know what, screw what I said before, none of my poetry seems to be on there but there is some short confusing story type things on there...It's kind of ... I don't know lol And I don't think I should post any of it...

Oh well I will anyways only these to though, my friend said the third one sounds kind of like a soft/hard porno passage haha

A Sinner's Love

I’m here…alone locked within darkness. My vision blurred and speech distorted I feel as if my head were to implode. You look at me as if I am an inanimate object. Day by day I’m passed by as a mere human statue. My lips are pierced shut, my eyes are sewn so I see no light and feel no hope. I nod my head up…and sense the sunlight beating down on my pale ghostly face. I ask the superior one, whoever that may be, why is this happening to me? I feel myself become weak, I want to cry…but the black thread keeping me from feeling what most feel will not let the tears of agony seep through. I lean back on the brick wall and hang my head down. I think of you…I don’t feel sorrow or pain I feel happiness and warmth. I think of what it would be like to hold you to feel your soft lips against mine one last time. As I climb the walls of this blank building I think of all the things we could have shared, I think of what it’d be like to have your skin brushing up on mine. I reach the top of the building, I imagine what it’d be like to look upon the people below me…I want to be able to reach to the sky and call out your name…I bring my hand to my mouth and one by one remove the rings enclosing my lips. I almost instantly scream, I cannot speak, it is as if I have forgotten how. Almost like magic I can feel my eyes opening, vision still blurred but I can see those below me. I see you…I feel a wave of despair cross me…I slowly step toward the edge of the massive structure…I look to the sky, call out your name and whisper, “I love you," as I close my eyes and jump silently. I take one last breath on Earth as I plunge back into the dark depths of Hell.

Corruptive Dream

I woke up to the sounds of my shrilling screams. I opened my eyes to see the flame of my life wildly flicker as I grew cold. The room began to spin, my thoughts were silenced by the sound of my screams. I broke into a cold sweat as the flame became bigger and brighter. I couldn’t breathe it was like I was being slowly suffocated. My body started to tremble as the in human screams that were coming from my wide open mouth got louder. Never had I thought that my young life could so quickly end. By this time I am laying wide awake in my bed, suffocated by my insecurities. I could feel my body starting to die, silently yet painfully. The sound of my screams were like nails on chalkboard, it was if they had shattered all the glass in the room for my floor was covered in it. I lied there, watching you intently I could not hear what you were saying to me but I soon made out by reading your soft, red, beautiful lips that you were telling me to stay, to not leave you again. I stopped screaming and said to you “I cannot stay here, it is far to hard to bear what we are now going through…I must go now.” You began to weep in anger and despair I did nothing but laugh...laugh out of sadness, laugh out of my painful misery. I could feel your love begin to fade away from my open, vulnerable heart. My screams became louder and stronger than ever. I looked into your passionate, caring, kind grey eyes you began to scream. The screams, the in human screams that were not mine were so loud they pierced even my ears. I held my head up high and watched in horror as you were engulfed in flames. I too began to weep, but I did not weep in anger, pain or sadness. I wept in regret. I wept in regret for letting my young heart left open for anyone to corrupt. I screamed before you were fully engorged with flames, I screamed like a child “I hate you.” Then I awoke from my dream you were there next to me in my warm bed and all I could do was kiss your cheek and smile…

JoY
11-27-2004, 02:21 PM
that site is a labyrinth. I can't find a goddam thing on there, except for a few drawings.
I'm silly & a nerd & I don't know shit about these sites.

Toxic Speed Bump
11-27-2004, 02:26 PM
I write poems. there allways twisted though. Once I went all sappy but then I got pissed off again. haha.

JoY
11-27-2004, 02:53 PM
the one, that's my signature, is pretty damn sappy. *swoon*
but most of my sappy ones end either slightly bitter, or frustrated.

I'm a twisted cookie.

babycraze{Angie}
11-27-2004, 06:46 PM
Eh...

You know what, screw what I said before, none of my poetry seems to be on there but there is some short confusing story type things on there...It's kind of ... I don't know lol And I don't think I should post any of it...

Oh well I will anyways only these to though, my friend said the third one sounds kind of like a soft/hard porno passage haha

A Sinner's Love

I’m here…alone locked within darkness. My vision blurred and speech distorted I feel as if my head were to implode. You look at me as if I am an inanimate object. Day by day I’m passed by as a mere human statue. My lips are pierced shut, my eyes are sewn so I see no light and feel no hope. I nod my head up…and sense the sunlight beating down on my pale ghostly face. I ask the superior one, whoever that may be, why is this happening to me? I feel myself become weak, I want to cry…but the black thread keeping me from feeling what most feel will not let the tears of agony seep through. I lean back on the brick wall and hang my head down. I think of you…I don’t feel sorrow or pain I feel happiness and warmth. I think of what it would be like to hold you to feel your soft lips against mine one last time. As I climb the walls of this blank building I think of all the things we could have shared, I think of what it’d be like to have your skin brushing up on mine. I reach the top of the building, I imagine what it’d be like to look upon the people below me…I want to be able to reach to the sky and call out your name…I bring my hand to my mouth and one by one remove the rings enclosing my lips. I almost instantly scream, I cannot speak, it is as if I have forgotten how. Almost like magic I can feel my eyes opening, vision still blurred but I can see those below me. I see you…I feel a wave of despair cross me…I slowly step toward the edge of the massive structure…I look to the sky, call out your name and whisper, “I love you," as I close my eyes and jump silently. I take one last breath on Earth as I plunge back into the dark depths of Hell.

Corruptive Dream

I woke up to the sounds of my shrilling screams. I opened my eyes to see the flame of my life wildly flicker as I grew cold. The room began to spin, my thoughts were silenced by the sound of my screams. I broke into a cold sweat as the flame became bigger and brighter. I couldn’t breathe it was like I was being slowly suffocated. My body started to tremble as the in human screams that were coming from my wide open mouth got louder. Never had I thought that my young life could so quickly end. By this time I am laying wide awake in my bed, suffocated by my insecurities. I could feel my body starting to die, silently yet painfully. The sound of my screams were like nails on chalkboard, it was if they had shattered all the glass in the room for my floor was covered in it. I lied there, watching you intently I could not hear what you were saying to me but I soon made out by reading your soft, red, beautiful lips that you were telling me to stay, to not leave you again. I stopped screaming and said to you “I cannot stay here, it is far to hard to bear what we are now going through…I must go now.” You began to weep in anger and despair I did nothing but laugh...laugh out of sadness, laugh out of my painful misery. I could feel your love begin to fade away from my open, vulnerable heart. My screams became louder and stronger than ever. I looked into your passionate, caring, kind grey eyes you began to scream. The screams, the in human screams that were not mine were so loud they pierced even my ears. I held my head up high and watched in horror as you were engulfed in flames. I too began to weep, but I did not weep in anger, pain or sadness. I wept in regret. I wept in regret for letting my young heart left open for anyone to corrupt. I screamed before you were fully engorged with flames, I screamed like a child “I hate you.” Then I awoke from my dream you were there next to me in my warm bed and all I could do was kiss your cheek and smile…
dude, ur good. REAL good.

babycraze{Angie}
11-27-2004, 06:47 PM
i don't even know how to explain my way or writing in my poetry. :confused: i really don't even know my style at all, i just write what i feel at the moment, that's it.

~Bee^Mac~
04-01-2007, 12:22 AM
When I 1st saw you I wanted to cry
was I in love or were ypu just another guy
when I say those eyes and that amazing smile
I knew we were meant to be
how cood they not see
they had to make fun of me
my life might b short but I want you to remember
that you will always b the one 4 me

~Bee^Mac~
04-01-2007, 12:29 AM
What is the meaing of life i really do not know
why are we mad one minit and sad the next
why are we happy, then need to cry
when in the end we all die
why do ppl kill them selfs ta make there familys upset
why do ppl die when they are having there babies.
I dont wanna be here i just wanna let go
some ppl die early others die old my time is up now
this was muh life time goal

JohnnyNemesis
04-01-2007, 04:05 AM
angst #@ ppl angst #@ ppl angst #@ ppl angst #@ ppl





angst #@ ppl angst #@ ppl

ninthlayer
04-01-2007, 04:09 AM
im on my computer of demons

craving the souls of mortals.

flying the creation of crust

it is a must

must.

must.

i try to soar

but my computer hits a boar

(the animal)

and the i cannot soar

with this dell

dell

dell

computer.

computer.

sell.



tbolt.

i hate my parents. :`(
RC knows what this is about.

wheelchairman
04-01-2007, 04:32 AM
oh all these poems, they are quite shitty
unquestionably bad, and filled with angst incorporated
you authors unknown, would be better off showing titties
drop this shitty fad, a video where Tom Hanks masturbated
would be so much better, than whatever your feelings express
Drew Carey in leather, would be better I confess,
this poem might be poorly formulated, and ill concieved,
the rhythm cut and mutilated, and vocabulary ill concieved,
but it's still so much fucking better than anything else in here.

Sin Studly
04-01-2007, 08:41 AM
So gather round ye children,
And listen to my epic tale,
A tale of awesome poetry,
In a thread that's not full of fail,
And the great poets who pen for us,
The deep emotions that they feel
To bare to us their teenage angst,
And their wounds that will not heal,

And to think that we would never know,
What was crawling in their skin,
Were it not for this wonderful thread,
To bring these brilliant writers in,
They tried so hard, and got so far,
Writing novels, poems, and plays,
If the world was bereft of such talent
There'd be no more hope for better days,

JohnnyNemesis
04-01-2007, 10:25 AM
I was about to verbally fellate Per, but then Justin had to come in and drop that masterpiece on us. Oh my, that was nice.

mrconeman
04-01-2007, 12:03 PM
Holy shit.
As far as I'm concerned Sin just won the whole internet.

Sin Studly
04-01-2007, 02:21 PM
I won it a long time ago, and you're only allowed on it because I'm nice.

Forza
04-01-2007, 03:33 PM
Lol, does every line of that poem come from Linkin Park songs?