Poetry thread for poems

[LesserChozo]

I thought I would start a general poetry thread. There seems to be a number of poets on the board, I'm surprised there isn't on yet. If you've written a poem and wish to share, post it here.


I hate to place limits on creativity, but it's probably best to keep them fairly short.

[LesserChozo]

I wrote this story several years ago for a class. I was never satisfied with how it came out, but once the class was over, it was put aside and forgotten until recently. I rewrote it as a poem; that seemed more suitable for my original outline.

500 miles
In this moment a little red car sleeps alone on hot pavement.
The world oblivious rushes by the little car unmindful of its dreams within.
The summer sun watches closely.

An awkward introduction
Lunch on a stone bench
A chance meeting
An embrace in sunlight beneath the stars
A secret meeting
Music
Blue-green embers
A hopeful goodbye

Another moment the little red car wakes.
Only to breathe cool life into the young dreamers.
The air is hot with sweat and lavender.
He, driven 500 miles to be there, holds her close.

Reuniting under the sea
A dance among the stars
Dr. Pepper kisses
Bolts of purple magic striking the black horizon
Visiting the old city
Long drives
A liquid confession
Heartbreak

In this moment a little red car sleeps.
Timeless dreams fill its mind.

[Lucid Flower]

Wow. I think it interesting because I would never think of the amount of time I spend in my car the same way. I mostly worry about it getting me from place to place without some kind of

The closest thing I have to any poetry are my lyrics...This is from an album I'm working on.
I work grave shift, this song/lyrics is about my relationship with the sun.

After Image Afternoon

I am the dust, floating in the sunlight. I was a memory, a phantom in the street.
My heartbeat a lullaby to the one I wait to meet.
I am the brightness that surrounds you, a creature of the night.
Bathing in the (after image) apathy, of florescent light.

[LesserChozo]

Whoa. That has kind of a morbid feel to it. Nice.

[-ChozoChild-]

I liked the 'Dr. Pepper kisses' line-- I think I became transfixed on that part of your poem, good job LesserChozo.

I haven't written any classic poems, but I did do a haiku for my Japanese Literature class.

Late autumn breeze breathes
spirit into fallen leaves
And then all is still

[Xan Kriegor]

I'm not good at making poems at all.

P.S. Nice job at making Metroid Queen Chozo!

[LesserChozo]

Thatks, CC. Your haiku: Very transcendental.

[Steamlord]

I don't know why I
Wrote this haiku but I did
So just deal with it

It's so easy to be a douche in haiku.

[Sub-zero]

I don't know why I
Wrote this haiku but I did
So just deal with it

It's so easy to be a douche in haiku.

Sorry, not poetry.
The whole concept of haiku seems a bit off to me.

I find poetry to be fascinating when:
It has at least 2 levels of depth
It rhymes
It fills you with the same feeling as the author him or herself feels.
It uses words understood by both educated and uneducated classes of people.

Hormone filled lines? No, thank you.
And fuck Ulysses. Just fuck it. I don't want to hear it.

[LesserChozo]

I don't remember when I wrote this one, but I'm almost positive I did.


A butterfly
Fluttered by
My fluttering eye
And asked me why
Mine eye doth cry.
"Because," said I,
"My love did fly
With no 'Goodbye.'
And so I cry
My time abide
From day till nigh'
Until, butterfly,
My love comes by."
Then the butterfly
Winked an eye
And said, "Goodbye."

[Angel of fire]

Made during my mourning for the beach.
------------------------

Waves crashed against the shore.
Against rocks,
People,
Spraying salty mist into the air.
Advancing up the beach,
Covering toys,
Soaking towels,
Chasing toddlers back to safety,
Waking mid-day nappers.
Gulls called,
Children laughed,
Surfers shouted,
The sea roared.
The sun shown down,
Heating the sand,
Reflecting in the sea,
Shimmering in the waves.
Palm trees rustled,
The breeze running through their branches,
The scent of salt on their wings.
Boats sounded,
Leaving a nearby dock.
Hours passed,
Beach-goers came and left.
Forgetting buckets,
Shovels,
Shirts,
Hats.
All destined to be buried under sand,
Brought in by high tide.
The sun set.
Ending the day,
With a magnificent display of deep blues,
Oranges,
And reds.
The pier emptied as the sky darkened.
Shops closed for the day,
The aromas of sea food,
Wafting from their windows.

Still,
The waves crashed against the shore.

[Satch]

I fell in love with a man through a screen
He in his towel
I in my lust
Desired to share bubbles
That no other could burst with the prickliest of cacti
For he and I are none other
than two distant halves
Of the same whole.
Old Spice Man...
His name, written ever so elegantly
In the sand of a thousand beaches
Littered with the diamonds of my heart,
Captivates me
Until I realize
My love has literally turned my heart
Into diamonds...

AND THEN I DIE.

The end. *snapz*

[Steamlord]

Truly beautiful. It brought a tear to my eye.

[LesserChozo]

Here are a couple more of my freestyle poems.

God of Words
My words may not rhyme or fall into rhythm, but they may be profound if you listen. I am the Wizard; my power lies in the words. With a flect of my tounge I control many things. I make truth out of lies and lies of the truth. With a turn of my hand worlds are created, people are born, cultures are formed -- or all is destroyed. Wars are fought on my command. Peace is made through my council. I am the mind maker, the life giver and life taker. I command existence with a stroke of my pen. I remove it all with a whisper. Love is gained and lost at my will. I am the hero; I am good. I am the villain; I am evil. I lead armies of demons. I cower in the shadows. I fulfill your dreams, give you nightmares. I am the author, artist of script, poet of all dimensions. Lord of manipulation. I am the God of Words.
---------------

ramblings
I get paranoid, like I’m in the Matrix; everyone is my enemy, don’t look at the woman in the red dress she will kill you, take the blue pill, the BLUE pill! They look into my mind, smell my thoughts; do you like it? do you like the smell? does it smell like chicken?! y’think it TASTES like chicken?! I AM NOT A CHICKEN!!! don’t eat my brains you sicko! I see you there, watering your twolips, waiting for Springfest, eager to get your grubby hands on a young flower with barely a bud, defile her with your dripping nose and filthy fingers, you rip her from her heavenly earth, caress her with your sin, as she withers and dries like an old woman sitting alone with no visitors, why does no one visit her? why do her children not visit her? do they not love her? do they not appreciate all that she is? all that she has done for them? all that she has sacrificed? her youth, her beauty, her energy, her life, fleeting life; a feather on a breeze blown by a great wind into a gaping sea, a vast ocean of my mind swelling and raging, filling my brain, cracking my skull crushing it spilling into my heart!

But it’s not true. Death is a fantasy. Life goes on and on and on and onmmmmmm, the smell of chicken sautéing in a sweet sauce, served over noodles, consumed by hungry peppered faces transfigured by the past to hide from the present in fear of the future, that rear-view reflection, mustn’t turn around or I’ll lose myself; I’ve lost myself; I’m lost, Guide me Virgil, I am frightened, I’m blind my vision reveals itself must I stain my teeth or continue filling my soul with the feast of lies handed to me on lacquered plates while the burning ash-children starve and fly on the wind carryin’ the smell of blood taste of spoiled life the buzzards follow the trail to feed their guilt noisome feathers fleeing on a putrid zephyr the ashes of dead dreams burning in the fallen sky Why won’t the rain fall for the willows? Tom, Dick, and Harry playing “where’s Willy” with Jane Doe while Private Ryan gets a spit shine from his Uncle’s daughter, brothers and sisters dancing in the dark, cocoonless butterflies flitting here and there, burning through the air, not even a lowly dandelion to rest on, those bastard dandelions think they’re so hot all dressed up like they’re someone special, just vampires in silk sucking the life out of the sweet young flowers straight from the stem the caterpillars left abandoned, betrayed, alone, afraid, those blood-sucking butterflies don’t even care

[Xan Kriegor]

Here's A Poem I Just Made Up Now.
________________________________________
I Once Had A Dream,

Where I Got Ice Cream,

It was nice,

But I was the vice president.

So I had to do my job, not just sit around and sob.
_________________________________________
And that's all I got so far.

Yeah, i'm not good at poem making, I don't even know if that's a poem or some rhyming sentences.