Anyone Write Poems?

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Re: Anyone Write Poems?

Unread postby dicksonllee » 6 January 2019, 10:35

I don't know much about poems but I read one in my high school english textbook called A poison tree. Is that considered as a "dark" poem?
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Re: Anyone Write Poems?

Unread postby xrayspex78 » 6 January 2019, 15:17

dicksonllee wrote:I don't know much about poems but I read one in my high school english textbook called A poison tree. Is that considered as a "dark" poem?


I come here to muse.
See when things bother me I write about it. It’s not always a poem.
Also since I can’t say what I would really like to say. I put it here in words of expression.

For example:

Be careful of those you pony up with.
Shallowness lacks depth perception.
Hindsight will always come into focus.
A media darling now.
A pariah after the gossip exchanges.
“I got no trophies on display
I sign them away
I mean what the heck”

-Pretenders
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Re: Anyone Write Poems?

Unread postby xrayspex78 » 11 January 2019, 01:11

Not a poem but a truth in words for once. Or damn near it. The opening where it says “they say I’m wrong” is an answer to those who have challenged my political views and beliefs. I simply do not align to a lot of LGBTQ politics. Simply no one has lived the life I have to impose their opinions and indoctrination’s on me. I don’t do it to others I simply ask it not be done to me. I will only handle so much before I snap.

The rest is about finances, drowning in debt, disagreeing with those who do drugs(don’t like folks who do it. When a junkie breaks into your home and steals you lose a lot of faith in humanity. You can support em all ya like. I don’t support folks who hurt others), and walking away from my mortgage.
Furthermore after the house was broken into it no longer felt like a home. The only place I ever felt safe I no longer feel safe because some loser had to get his high.
Say what you will. You haven’t lived my life. I understand addiction is a problem. But do not deny my anger and invalidate my feelings.


It’s near bed time.
Woeful b sides from Sheryl Crow’s first album fill the living room with regret.
They tell me I’m wrong.
Apply opinions and indoctrination without understanding.
No one has lived this life and few have ever tried to understand.
I relish the thoughts of walking away from that land that overlooks a billion years of history.
How else can I live?
My life at the hands of investors, bankers, and taxes.
It taxed my mind to the breaking point.
The property desecrated by a drug addict I had never wronged or known.
The society was on his side.
As I relish the thoughts.
I have big ambitions still.
I don’t know where I’m going, I don’t know what I’m going.
The financial burden is tightening around my neck.
Family and friends ask “have you lost weight?”
I dare not speak the truth.
I keep silent, keep it all in, and suffer.
Albeit once in a while I put in words for the world to see.
No one says anything. No one asks about it.
I carry on. I have lots to do.
Understand we all suffer.
No one person’s
feelings, race, religion, sexuality, identity, or anything override another’s.
At least in my world it doesn’t.
You don’t know what I’ve lived.
“I got no trophies on display
I sign them away
I mean what the heck”

-Pretenders
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Re: Anyone Write Poems?

Unread postby xrayspex78 » 11 January 2019, 22:02

The Fakes

People are always gonna smile in your face.
Fake their pace to win the race.
Backhanded comments abound and always around.
Personal gain by using and abusing you to gain admiration of others.
But when you bare your teeth in sheer anger.
They recoil at their foils.
As if they had done nothing wrong.
They select their posse and get real bossy.
They flaunt their cock of the walk and skulk about like clowns in town.
I know them plenty and I won’t vanish into the banishment.
“I got no trophies on display
I sign them away
I mean what the heck”

-Pretenders
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Re: Anyone Write Poems?

Unread postby AZBLUEEYES » 20 February 2019, 00:16

I do write poetry. I use https://www.writerscafe.org to share them.
Madness takes its toll. Please have exact change ready.
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Re: Anyone Write Poems?

Unread postby Magic J » 24 February 2019, 01:11

lynx wrote:No, I definitely don't write poetry. I hate poetry. It beats around the bush too much and is just, well, artsy-fartsy (but I admire qualities poets have that have nothing to do with their poetry such as their dedication to craft, competence at what they do etc). But with poetry, just fckin say it, bro. I don't have time to sift through thirty fckin' lines of obscure language and try to piece it all together to come to the final conclusion that there is hate in the world, trump sucks, your ex is a cunt, etc. I also hate the self-indulgent aspect of poetry. I went to poetry slam once and all they did was get up there and whine about men and patriarchy and this and that...."I WAS RAPED by his eyes" and all other stupid silly microaggressions that feminist brainwashed cunts and antifa Nazi fucks cry about, cuz they have nothing better to do with their pathetic, spoiled, trust fund baby existence. Let me do slam fckin' poetry. I'll bash the shit out of everybody.


Aware that this post is from almost a year ago, but thought it could be resurrected in the form of poetry. That is, if it wasn't already a poem. I'm not sure. Contemporary poetry can get pretty weird in its boundary pushing, I hear. :P

Several Poems – lynx

I – On the Nature of Poetry

No.
I definitely don’t write poetry.
I hate.

II – On the Necessity of Brevity in the Face of Mortality

Poetry: It beats around the bush too much and is just, well,
Artsy-fartsy.
Just fucking say it, bro.
I don’t have time to sift
through thirty fucking lines.

III – More Notes on the Nature of Poetry

Obscure language to peace.
It: all together

IV – On Going with the Flow

To come to The Final Conclusion:
There is hate in this world.
Trump sucks, your ex is a cunt,
etc.
I also hate the self-indulgent.

V – On Poetry and Patriarchy

Aspect of Poetry: I went to a poetry slam.
Once.
All they did was get up there and whine.
About men,
About patriarchy,
And this,
And that,
And all the other.

VI – On Aggression

Stupid, silly microaggressions:
Feminist brainwashed cunts!
Antifa Nazi fucks!

VII – On Becoming a Poet

They have nothing better to do
With their pathetic, spoiled, trust fund baby existence.
Let me do slam fuckin’ poetry!
I’ll bash the shit out of everybody.

Enjoying everyone's poems. Might try to actually write one rather than shamelessly appropriate next time. :P
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Re: Anyone Write Poems?

Unread postby Toddo » 10 September 2020, 04:20

Something I’ve wrote more recently, nothing to fancy.



What is this feeling I feel,
Is this even real?

Is this possible
To feel so unstoppable,
Im on top of the world
My heart is swirled.

I can’t think clear
You’re always on my mind
Why do you act so drear
But You’re ever so inclined.

You play the shy game
It drives me insane
You tell me your name
And It can’t leave my brain.

You won’t ever look at me
While we’re talking
You stare toward your knee
While we’re walking.

I can’t take my eyes off of you
While the conversation goes on
I mean it, it’s true
You use me like a pawn.

I love every second of it
It brings me joy
It makes me feel lit
I love a shy boy.
I'm a Fricking Delight =]


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Re: Anyone Write Poems?

Unread postby Jryski » 10 September 2020, 10:44

Toddo wrote:Something I’ve wrote more recently, nothing to fancy.



What is this feeling I feel,
Is this even real?

Is this possible
To feel so unstoppable,
Im on top of the world
My heart is swirled.

I can’t think clear
You’re always on my mind
Why do you act so drear
But You’re ever so inclined.

You play the shy game
It drives me insane
You tell me your name
And It can’t leave my brain.

You won’t ever look at me
While we’re talking
You stare toward your knee
While we’re walking.

I can’t take my eyes off of you
While the conversation goes on
I mean it, it’s true
You use me like a pawn.

I love every second of it
It brings me joy
It makes me feel lit
I love a shy boy.

Love me a wry boy
Smirk and acting all coy
Treat me like a boy toy
Or maybe he’s a bad boy
Conversation goes on
Maybe a little too long?
You won’t ever look at me
Yet you still use me as a pawn
You play the shy game
Then you play the name game
Sneak your way into my brain
Zombae, love slain.
I guess it’s possible
And possibly probable
To feel so unstoppable
But still can’t think clear

XD I just had to
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Re: Anyone Write Poems?

Unread postby Toddo » 10 September 2020, 15:56

Jryski wrote:
Toddo wrote:Something I’ve wrote more recently, nothing to fancy.



What is this feeling I feel,
Is this even real?

Is this possible
To feel so unstoppable,
Im on top of the world
My heart is swirled.

I can’t think clear
You’re always on my mind
Why do you act so drear
But You’re ever so inclined.

You play the shy game
It drives me insane
You tell me your name
And It can’t leave my brain.

You won’t ever look at me
While we’re talking
You stare toward your knee
While we’re walking.

I can’t take my eyes off of you
While the conversation goes on
I mean it, it’s true
You use me like a pawn.

I love every second of it
It brings me joy
It makes me feel lit
I love a shy boy.

Love me a wry boy
Smirk and acting all coy
Treat me like a boy toy
Or maybe he’s a bad boy
Conversation goes on
Maybe a little too long?
You won’t ever look at me
Yet you still use me as a pawn
You play the shy game
Then you play the name game
Sneak your way into my brain
Zombae, love slain.
I guess it’s possible
And possibly probable
To feel so unstoppable
But still can’t think clear

XD I just had to


I like it :)
I'm a Fricking Delight =]


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Re: Anyone Write Poems?

Unread postby Cali Ed » 29 September 2020, 13:17

A few more from my archives ...


Carrying You Back

You lie as beautiful as a cadaver on a mortician's plank,
a cut of meat sliced from your sinewy flank.
The ocean has no need for your corpse anymore,
so gently I've hauled you from the desolate shore.
You swam, famished, refusing to die on this isle,
and the waters abided and sustained you a mile.
Only the marlin witnessed your deep-sea shrift
as you were reborn to death in the baptismal drift.
With my penknife, I carve you my little salt-water bass,
till you're dressed like a gambrel behind butcher-shop glass.
I will not waste an ounce of you; I'll clean you to the bones.
What the spirit disallows the body silently condones.
As a parasitic worm burrows clear to the heart,
you are feeding me the strength to make a new start.
It was the refuge of home you sought in the sea.
I will be carrying you back inside of me.

•••

If Time Should Turn Itself Backward

If time should turn itself backward,
and the march toward death could be deterred,
and I could erase everything ere I heard,
this existence to me would seem less absurd.

And I could see this bottle of wine revert to a grape,
and I could watch a grown man evolve into an ape;
to see an old parrot's feathers bright with color again,
and an invalid could shed her withered skin.

And this antique desk could become two stately trees,
and the seven continents could seal the seas.
And the rivers would end where indeed they started,
to see rise from the graves our dearly departed. ...

Until an old man crawls though a vagina into a hole in space,
and an emptiness could replace this human race.
The dusk of a dead day could become its lovely dawn;
for a moment we rejoice, then once again it's gone.

And I could forget every learned word,
if time should turn itself backward.

And I could see again what the years have blurred,
if time should turn itself backward.

And this cancer in my body would one day be cured,
if time should turn itself backward.

•••

When you walk without a stitch

And since you've been too long a slave to fashion,
I leave you naked now as an act of compassion.
And before this chiseled flesh I praise and kneel
and ponder again how many kisses to steal.
Alas, I have exhausted my daily ration.

To think it's only lust that makes men act this way —
so that the cock says yes and every part must obey.
Love cares not how much skin you expose,
but lust makes an enemy of the sum of your clothes.
I don't care to see that naked heart on display.

And to think it was Helen of Troy who started wars.
But I want a write a paean here to that cock of yours.
I've got the melody, and I've nearly got a rhyme;
so align that fine flute to these lips of mine.
And never let back doors be obscured by drawers.

I want you as naked as the day you were born
— not that I care for that kind of porn.
But you understand that your body is a work of art —
with this bare canvas you start; spread those cheeks apart.
Let my paintbrush be the only one to adorn.

When I saw you first, you were walking through the dorm.
You in your underwear soon became the norm.
But I wanted more; maybe I just wanted a dirty magazine;
but there's nothing about you that could be ruled obscene,
and I knew I'd give anything to spy your naked form.

Then one drunken night, we all went skinny-dipping.
I wasn't even in the water and heartily I was dripping.
You said last time so many saw you nude was at your bris,
and I stared upon your circumcised cock with bliss.
In my mind there's a pole and you're forever stripping.

From the Athens of antiquity to the locker shower room,
the beauty of truth blooms best when there's no costume.
So wear this suit and it will be your birthday all year long;
men and women alike will gift you wine and song.
Like Costanza, Buck Naked will be your nom de plume.

But you say, "My dear, even though this sweater makes me itch,
I love my pants and polos; with this Nubuck jacket I am rich."
Ah, but what you haven't yet realized is that when you're stripped
your value is commensurate to that with which you are equipped.
And you are priceless when you walk without a stitch.
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Re: Anyone Write Poems?

Unread postby edj » 22 October 2020, 03:25

I tend to write poems during times of crisis.

The Moment

This wretched cry is love lost’s keening,
When life to stillness cedes,
Imbued by habit cruelly seeming
To verge on Death’s reprieve.

But then, no sigh of gentle waking,
No munch on dreamed delights.
He’s dead, my wordless sobs are screaming.
Here falls our endless night.

Deliver me from drab rebirth.
Remove the half-a-heart,
End my listless search for meaning.
Naught remains but love lost’s keening.

10/20/2020
-edj
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