Author Topic: Poetry  (Read 2323 times)

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Offline Uncle-Noob

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Re: Poetry
« Reply #40 on: June 10, 2015, 10:31:15 pm »
Like a bottle rocket,
I flew off the planet,
And when I look down,
It's like I never believed I existed until this moment.
Still confused? Then perhaps this will enlighten you!

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Offline Faithfull

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Re: Poetry
« Reply #41 on: July 22, 2015, 11:56:28 pm »
When she is gone, so is the sun.
In her absence, there is darkness.
With her, my colors shine,
But now they fade to gray.

I do not the reason of her absence,
Nor how long she'll be gone.
All I know about it all,
Is the pain it puts in my heart.

She is missed, she is loved.
And even with my heart aching,
I only want the best for her.
If being away is what she needs....
It's all I wish to be.
« Last Edit: July 22, 2015, 11:58:46 pm by Guacamole Ensō »
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Offline Faithfull

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Re: Poetry
« Reply #42 on: November 04, 2015, 04:27:10 pm »
Annnd an unavoidable double post..


Sharp as a sword, strong as a Queen
She cuts down all we have, we wonder how she can be so mean...
Cruel and unyielding, none can appose
The power she holds, over her foes.
-
Swifter than wind, a continuous stride
A lioness on the hunt, from which you simply can't hide.
She pulls you along, struggle as you might
Her grip is tight, no escaped from this knight.
-
A clever opponent making you a pawn in the game
Her steady onslaught, a strategy untamed.
Time will prevail, and with a victorious shout
She'll finish the game with a checkmate, no doubt.
_
She's to fast, to strong, so cruel this is true
But she's still a gem, a precious gift to you.
If you don't pay attention, she'll fly away like a dove.
Time is a gift, spend her with those you love.
« Last Edit: November 04, 2015, 04:33:24 pm by Ensō Masuku »
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Offline Tsuna_Yoshi

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Re: Poetry
« Reply #43 on: November 05, 2015, 10:03:56 pm »


Black and white he is, with bamboo at his side.
Black mittens reaching for tea beside,
crumpets; he sits on a cafe couch, astride.

Claws scrape the ivory cup,
Atop the seat he puffs up.
After a slurp he loosens up.

He lounges, beside a window,
A being as large as a hippo.
Outside the window, a white gazebo.

The aroma of morning coffee,
merges with the smell of salty,
caramel, inside a cafe lobby.


(Side note: It's a panda sitting in a cafe. It's supposed to be a kind of abstract poem.)
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Offline Molon Labe

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Re: Poetry
« Reply #44 on: November 06, 2015, 02:17:23 am »
And now, a haiku about semester finals:

I am really f*cked
Where did the semester go?
F*ck F*ck F*ck F*ck F*ck
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A SOLDIER'S SPIRIT IS FOREVER IN MY HEART
THE LOVE OF MY COUNTRY WILL NEVER DEPART
SO IF EVER MY COUNTRY SHOULD CALL UPON ME
I WILL GIVE MY LIFE TO KEEP US ALL FREE

Offline ArtificialSweetener

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Re: Poetry
« Reply #45 on: November 22, 2015, 08:25:25 pm »
It's been a while since I did some poetry. Cookie if you can figure out what it's about, but I think it's pretty obvious I need to redo this.

Jitters

Equatable to the feeling of drinking a pint of coffee.
The buzz and lightheadedness,
the pulse racingness,
the heart flutteringness.
A natural drug, stronger then that from a pot.
Causing the stomach to church,
creating a similar surge of energy,
and feeling of being truly awake.
Yet still proceeded by the Crash after.

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Offline Saint Judas

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Re: Poetry
« Reply #46 on: December 04, 2015, 09:50:21 pm »
This thread was a worthy one, and I feel I have something to add, so I am reviving it

Tell me I'm not dreaming, tell me it's real
  These nightmares so fallow, these nightmares I feel
Where do I draw the line, when do I realize I've been misled?
  Where does my imagination come to life, when do I become the monster instead?
I've crossed the point of no return
  It's too late to save me, watch me burn
Forgotten, my ashes will scatter
  See this, my dreams shall shatter

Offline Saint Judas

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Re: Poetry
« Reply #47 on: November 29, 2016, 10:32:38 am »
Once more this thread I have found
  As always to this thread I am bound,
As time has weathered me
  These old friends and furs I do see,
Memories, ghosts, come and gone
  So many here have long chose to pass on,
But their words, their thoughts
  Never shall they be for naught,
So let us remember them here
  Let us remember how to let free,
This place I saw in my dawn
  This place I will see go on,
Fear not for quality nor rhyme
  Time and effort are all that will judge thee,
Share you thoughts, share your words
  Sing them out as we are but songbirds,
Chirping and twittering in this day
  Fluttering and flattering until away we will stray

Offline Faithfull

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Re: Poetry
« Reply #48 on: November 29, 2016, 11:15:20 am »
In times long long past, lived the story tellers of old.
Writers, singers, poets, and bards, they all had stories they told.

Stories with humor, stories with drama,
stories of Hero's, or lovers, or trauma.
Some withheld meaning, deep down inside,
some where for fun, and from reality to hide.

Stories are a powerful force to behold,
they can take a simple event, and turn it to gold.
Gold that inspires men to think anew,
Gold that helps one in a storm, sail on through.

They give, courage, and wisdom, and couriosity too,
Strength, and insight, all of this is true.
Stories do much more than most think.
Well this story is over, I've run out of Ink..
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Offline Faithfull

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Re: Poetry
« Reply #49 on: February 22, 2017, 12:22:30 am »
An author is a magician, a sorcerer, a Witch indeed... Here's a little spell to make you see.
~
With just ink, or lead, he can he can declare a man dead.
He can tell a story without exhaling a breath..
He can bring said dead man back from death!
~
He can say hello from yesterday..
Or paint an image in the most peculiar way..
~
He waves his wand over the wood..
Hoping the results turn out good..
Runes are formed, he spell complete..
He holds a power in which few could ever compete..
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Offline Faithfull

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Re: Poetry
« Reply #50 on: April 21, 2017, 12:17:46 pm »
Sorry for the inevitable double post, I just cant let a poetry thread die in peace xD

Midnight snack: Enso Masuku (me)
Eyes turn left
Eyes turn right
Eyes search for danger in the middle of the night.
Slowly it sneaks
Creeping on the floor
Carful not to make'a sound, as it opens up the door.
Now it is'a raiding
And pillaging, your food,
Afterwards to race, back to its room.
The fridge is now empty,
Fringed and bare.
What kind of monster, have you living up stairs?!
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Offline Saint Judas

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Re: Poetry
« Reply #51 on: June 09, 2017, 02:08:29 am »
Sorry for the inevitable double post, I just cant let a poetry thread die in peace xD
*guiltily glances around*
Shushshshshshhh
*whispers* Never diieeeeee

So yeah, obvs based on quote stamp I wrote this a bit ago for an April Poetry Month thing on another forum of mine.... Yeah. Woo. Poems.
Quote from: Saint Judas,Apr 2 2017, 10:42 AM
This Winter's day
The Dragon Comes

Tribute to Dragon's peninsula and a hurricane


Waves crash over jagged reef
Dashed 'gainst unwavering cliff
Rocks below like water's teeth
Hungering, stone dead and stiff
  Frigid now, this Winters's day
  See now, the Dragon slumbers
Stern bluff over swollen seas
Wind lashes through icy spray
Tides tugging without surcease
Leeching life 'very sun's ray
  Hollow now, this Winter's day
  Feel now, the Dragon stirring
Ghostly fog over scar creep
Ocean swirls with cold black heart
Whistling wind, a rumbling deep
Keening cries, the howlings start
  Direful now, the Winter's day
  Watch now, the Dragon wakens
Prec'pice hangs 'ver fatal brink
Roiling storm-clouds borne inland
Into darkness see light sink
Star leached from whence cold crags stand
  Haunting now, this Winter's day
  Fear now, the Dragon wrathful
Lethal ledge 'ver thrashing abyss
Thunder mild before the gale
Rain sharp striking rocks with hiss
Above all the piercing wail
  Deadly now, this Winter's day
  Hear now, the Dragon roaring
Lofty ridge 'ver turbid storm
Land and sky torn asunder
Across the earth death is borne
On drake's wings rides the thunder
  Fallen now, this Winter's day
  Know now, the Dragon conquers

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Re: Poetry
« Reply #52 on: June 09, 2017, 08:20:31 am »
Book Cover

Inside a book.
That's where you can describe.
A tale or a story.
But often that's not what you find inside.

Outside a book.
That's where you should never judge.
From books about magic.
To books on how to make fudge.

Of a book.
That's whats used to describe it.
You can read a book on the outside.
But never then judge what's inside it.
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Offline Saint Judas

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Re: Poetry
« Reply #53 on: June 09, 2017, 06:54:34 pm »
Because there is a kitten on my lap and she fell asleep there :u

Thou curlest on mine lap
So careless, so free
Without care or worry
What I might give to be thee

And dost ye have to ever lift a finger?
Dost ye ever knownest work?
I thinkest not my friend!
Thy duties thou dost shirk!

Yet are thee not most dearly beloved?
Is not thy presence a blessing upon it?
Thou dost not try, thou simply is,
Yet precious thou art, thy little kit

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Re: Poetry
« Reply #54 on: June 22, 2017, 08:32:39 pm »
There once was a man of Tennessee,
Who married a lady named Mei Lee.
Lee, the clothes did wash,
while he was doing Good only knows what pish posh.
That poor wife of the man from Tennessee.
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