Tee Hee, Poetry!

[FengharTheNord]

I really like poetry and writing. I especially like writing poetry. Lets do that. Talk about it. And do it. And stuff.

1.
Shovel that dead dog out of your driveway. Scoop up the teeth and put them in the trash bin. Make a wish and dispose of the ribs. Smile as you wag the tail. It's good to see yourself every once and a while, but not like this. So stop it. End it. Give it up. Disgusting. Pervert. Freak. Creep. Loser. Shovel that dead dog out of your driveway.

2.
You and I, we are beautiful. Languishing in light, worms drying out in the sun. We are like the hot cement to sensitive feet. We are like the biting frost to a fair cheek. We bite the hand that needs. Our mouths hold no language but that of our own. You and I, we are beautiful. And when it all burns, you and I, when it all burns, there we will be.

3.
Notes from fingers sing subtle songs. Voices play out, echo against time. A stream will trickle down, following itself back to entry. Back to entry. The world returns to womb. Soupy place, we play among the waters. Where'd the tide go? Where'd the waves go? Stillness is the only voice now. Stillness and harp strings lamenting the bad weather. Infantile thoughts will emerge soon enough. But for now, stillness is the only voice now. Now is now and relative to now is another now. We keep our nows close together now, tied up now, only one now, and it's now. Stillness is the only voice now. So hush that mind let it sink down where it belongs. We could be together now. For stillness is the only voice now.

4.
My mouth makes movements in time with the strings. Wild tongue. Wild heart. Beat skipping heart. Fists will clench tight upon the threads of the world as I bring it down, spin it, unravel it, show it for what it is. I tear at the fabric and yet so taught it remains. So cracked my nails become. Like two stones struck together for spark but they are too sharp to hold. I am clawing my way back in back out. Where do I go in all this mess. "CLEAN YOUR ROOM". "FILTH". "WASH THE WALLS". "You are so useless". Bad thoughts bad thoughts bad thoughts bad thoughts. I push them back in. Only place they can go. That's what you do when you are like me. That's what I do, because I'm me. I don't really have a choice. I mean, you wouldn't if you were me. So just let go. Like my hands do. They let go of things. Wild hands. Sometimes they hold too tight. Too hard.

5.
I need a house. A house with one room. And one person. Me. Me in my house. A bed. A light. And a fan to help me sleep. No windows, there is nothing I want to see. No doors, there is nowhere nor no one I want to be (with). No radio, voices annoy me. A house with one room A house and me.

I know it doesn't have any structure 'n stuff but I wrote it on facebook and I don't really feel like messing with it. NOW READ MINE AND/OR POST YOURS!!!

[LordRetard]

I haven't written poetry in a couple of years, but I was thinking of starting it up again. I've been reading through James Tate every night for the past few days. Success Comes to Cow Creek is my favourite. If I write anything new I'll post it here but I don't want to bother with my old poetry anymore.

[Euclidthegreek]

I often write poetry, but it's usually bad. Maybe if I ever write something good I will post it.

[LordRetard]

You could post it and ask for feedback on how to make it better. I, for one, try very hard not to spare people's feelings, because I don't like it when they spare mine... But it can upset people.

[Euclidthegreek]

But posting poetry of my current calibur would cause you to loose all respect for me.

[LordRetard]

That's funny, Euclid. You can go ahead and post the poetry.

[Sahan]

Code: Select all

Hiding in the shadows
Bleeding in the dark
Tortured and pained, and yet
You somehow still survived

Let me put you away
I'm gonna need you someday
So just heal your wounds
Forget about those wars

There is a box, magical and mythical
It can protect you from the harm
It once stored and contained
Then unleashed upon the sorry world

Your hunting days are over
Hush now, just rest
The pain will subside one day
I will make you strong again

The past is the past
The past is the past
Those days fade so fast
Those days of the past

Put you under lock and key
One day you'll return to me
The pain will someday go away
I will make you strong again

The past is the past
The past is the past
Those days fade so fast
Those days

Emergency! Emergency!
Alarm bells are ringing and I don't have the key.
Can't break you free
Can't break you free
Smash open this box and you'll get what you need

Return to me
Return to me
I've got what you need, but I can't find the key

Before it's too late, too late
Too late, too late
My fate, I hate my cursed fate

All the strength in the world
Will not break you free
One day it shall return and
You will get what you need

The past is the past
The past is the past
I have made you strong again

Did we miss out out?
Don't want to find out
I'm afraid to look back
Though you have grown stronger

The past is the past but
The past hid the key
And when I looked back it set you free

But it's too late, too late
Too late, too late
My fate, I hate my cursed fate

Found the key, opened the box
Set you free, can't put you back

Get me a bigger box
Get me a better box


I put this on my blog not too long ago. Up one night and couldn't sleep, so I just wrote it up as it came, with some minor edits before I typed it up.

[Felstaff]

Your mother was just crush'd to death
And cursed your name wi' her dying breath
One more element ere you factor
Her contrituration was a trash compactor

[Kimra]

I'm afraid to read your poetry after getting a couple lines into the dead dog one. Could you tell me the numbers of ones that wont give me messed up nightmares tonight and I'll read them.

[Sahan]

2,3, and 5 seem alright, unless you are really sensitive.

[Kimra]

And once you said that I had to read them all to see what you where suggesting I skip over. Mine is a silly brain.

But just the dead dog one bothered me in the end. Mostly because it will stick in my brain for many years longer than I want it to. I suppose that makes it effective? I know nothing about poetry though. I once wrote a poem for the people at my university who insisted I stop swearing so much. I make no claims of excellence, but apparently it was quite effective in creeping said people out.


I tried to write poetry, but failed. It's so bad I'm making it small, but since I wrote it I can't delete it (writing policy I adhere to). I'm no good at poetry, because if it doesn't rhyme I don't think I've done it right, but if it rhymes it sounds cheap. That's not saying that rhyming poetry is bad, just that it sucks when I do it. With that happy thought in place, I exit.

Ring the drums, slap the bells. We're broken but don't know it. There's something twisted, screwed in wrong. A bitter poison sprayed about. A bite to throats and hearts alike. Kill it faster, kill it slow. It's dead no matter what you do. I hate you for the things you are, the things I used to love. Bleed you out of the skin, get away from me. Nothing but a messed up muse, a parable to tell. You'll fade away with the rain. You'll disappear, die. I hope it happens soon.

[Sahan]

I have that same problem, the last one I wroteI thought turned out ok because I didn't make a conscious effort to make it rhyme. Either the next line I could think of rhymed, or it didn't, and I wrote it down. But I noticed it started to rhyme more towards the end for some reason.

[LordRetard]

I can't manage rhyming poetry at all, in fact I sometimes have to fix lines to get rid of awkward lines. I did, however, write something in (near) iambic tetrameter* last night!

Your bag, your hat, your scarf, your hair.
That's not your face. I scream. You laugh.

There are a few more I can post later.

*Because "not" doesn't really carry any stress.

[Cirtur]

Hair and laugh don't rhyme.

Silly LR.

[Oldrac the Chitinous]

Hey, here's a question: How do people handle it when they hit an off-rhyme in verse that's otherwise made up of proper rhymes? Do you just read it like normal, or do you deliberately mispronounce - or at least, weirdly pronounce - the word? Like, if someone rhymed "brain" with "again", would you pronounce it "agayne"? (I think that one's the most common offender.)

Or, the one that made me think of the issue in the first place (yeah, it's this one again.):

WE wear the mask that grins and lies,
It hides our cheeks and shades our eyes,—
This debt we pay to human guile;
With torn and bleeding hearts we smile,
And mouth with myriad subtleties.

Does the last word rhyme with "cheese" or "fries?"

It's probably more correct (whatever that means) to just put up with the off-rhyme, but I don't like doing it, so (in my head, at least) I will usually try to shoehorn the word into a proper rhyme. Anybody else do that?