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 Posted: Thu Mar 22, 2007 3:29 pm
Kay so here's the flop,
Guild == DEATH,
I == Not Keeping up with this,
You == Get full 400% refund.
Just message me first.
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Posted: Sat Mar 24, 2007 1:57 pm
Parents
They say that they know what its like 2 be me,
all the suffering and misery,
they really don't when they think that they do,
sometimes I wish that I didn't have 2,
they drive me crazy and up the wall,
they think that they're the wisest of all,
they tell me they love me,
they tell me they care,
when really they don't cuz they're never f**kin there,
I wish that they'd just burn up and die,
so I no longer would have to cry,
its so irritating the things that they do,
I wish I could live with a friend that I knew,
I think about cutting,
I think about death,
I never met that chick they call Beth,
they're always doubting the things that I do,
but, oh if they heard half the sh*t that I do,
they'd be the same way as I am all f**ked up in the head,
then maybe they too would wish they were dead,
I used to believe that wishes would come true,
but really thats just a f**ked up joke too,
like all other things that you want to believe,
wishes are just a pill for relief,
you believe in them because you think they will help,
when all they really do is make you a whelp,
they'll never understand what its like to be me,
I wish I could live life wild and free.
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Posted: Sun Apr 15, 2007 5:14 pm
So this doesn't have to be a new poem, eh? ...Hehe.
"To Be
or: The Field Where I Died"
I was lying in a field,
surrounded by wheat like
jutting lances waging war
against the sky. The clouds,
confused, travel an impasse,
to be raked by the claws
of trees, black against the light.
My lips are the stage of love:
parted, parched, but red yet;
and kisses, seldom, tickle yet,
though players of today rarely
own your subtlety. To crawl
is not to kiss, and yet the touch
shares sometimes your intent.
The gold of my hair weaves
in among the nests of rodents
and small birds, and settles
where only roots and worms
have comfort. A corvid also
found a treasure--jade--and
carries it always. To be
useful: This is paradise.
In spring, the flowers blend
into the sunset, forgetting
to exist; summer bleaches them,
and, wearing dull smiles,
they accept all; autumn
burns and buries them;
winter lets them rest.
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Posted: Wed Apr 18, 2007 2:50 pm
Puppet
I'm just a little puppet
That's all I am to you
Tangled by my little strings
Having no right or wrong to do
Mother I am leaving
But the strings just don't break
I'm tired of living
A life that you want to take
I can hear the whispers calling
They tell me it's not right
What you do is wrong
This is my birthright
I'm still just a puppet
But what this wood it about to do
The strings that have always hold me
Are about to let go
Nobody can stop me
I'm going to be on my own
The only help that I'll need
Is from God and God alone
I know now that jumping
Is a pleasent way to go
They told me down here
That in heaven I'll see snow
Hope it's allright.
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Posted: Wed Apr 18, 2007 2:52 pm
Reflection
I'm looking in the mirror
But I don't see myself
I see my mothers image
Nothing but itself
I'm seeing a reflection
Of what SHE wants to be
Nothing of myself
Hello, is there still a me
I'm looking at it closly
Me mind is full of nothing
The surrondings are closing in
My heart is no longer aching
I'm not myself
That me is long gone
I'm no longer a persn
I'm just a pawn
My mother has it all
So do I guess
But I found a mirror today
I saw a person whose not a mess
I saw a person happy
Surronded by all her friends
And so now I think
Whom is this person's blend
I heard a voice say
Something in my ear
A quite little whisper from the mirror
You, my dear
I know I could do better!
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Posted: Thu Apr 19, 2007 10:43 am
Imaginary
An imaginary exorcism
Imitating child’s play
On the melting merry-go-round
That will not stop today
Cover his eyes
With his black broad brimmed hat
He woos the tall daughter
Of the lord of the dead
The wrath is like fire
Burning innocent souls
Whipping thoughts into action
Action into gold
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Posted: Tue May 15, 2007 8:55 am
Origins
What is a poem?
Is it short, is it long
is it a master's symphony
or merely a minstrals song.
Does it cling to you
embedding itself in your mind
whispering it's tale
mimicing a ghostly whine.
Was it born of darkness
or the holiest of light
maybe it's true origin
has none, or much fright.
Has it sung of love
or seethed with hate
did it quake with fear,
did it speak of fate?
Were we the ones to create it
or was it something more
did a diving god of judgement
first inscribe the poet's lore.
Will it ever end
the harminous flow of dreams
a fantasy unexplained
nothing is as it seems.
What is a poem?
It can be short, even long
is it God's symphony
or merely the son's song.
xp
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Posted: Mon Jun 25, 2007 3:48 am
The Upset
A moonlit sky in her starry eyes,
Darkened rings encircle mine.
The brilliant deck of open lies,
Speak of truth, that will come in time.
Cold and shaken in this gloomy shroud,
Of terrible, aching, desolation.
Wandering, waiting to be found,
With no care of destination.
He speaks with care, as not to falter,
Lips moving slowly with doubt.
He knows that now, he cannot alter,
What's done is done, the word is out.
"I want you to know how hard it is,
to see my love, as less than his,
and let You go, back to him,
even though my vision's dim.
Even though I might be blind,
to what You may see inside,
You know what's right, for your life,
even though, I could make you my wife."
Leaves loosen in lament,
Trees tremble in torment.
She looks at him
And starts to cry
She looks at him
He doesn't know why
She looks at him
With teary eyes
She looks at him
And the moonlit sky
With hesitation she starts to shake,
Her eyes have begun to form a lake.
With trepidation she opens her mouth
Her gaze has gone to the south.
"I never loved you,
the way you did.
I never loved you,
that truth I hid.
I only wanted
to make you smile,
I never wanted
to have your child.
I only wanted
a friend to hold.
I never wanted
to be this cold.
I'm sorry that I couldn't be
the girl that you thought was me.
It's hard for me to say,
that you never knew me anyway.
I wish you the best,
I really do.
I hope you can rest,
with someone that loves you.
It's what you deserve,
and nothing less.
It's what you deserve,
I wish you success."
His knuckles ache
A bitter reminder
Of a road he must not take
For she has been kinder.
The moon glows softly
On his mourning face.
As he starts his search
To find his place.
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Posted: Wed Aug 15, 2007 10:20 pm
I've got a couple I'd like to enter. Here's the first one.
Riddler
I am the pure heart that lives within every villain,
And the cold savagery that lives within every hero.
I am the shadow of stars,
The light shining from black holes.
A mountainous stream and a soft trickling wildfire,
Flowing through wind and rock alike.
I am the follower of fools and the leader of wisemen,
The damned angel and the holy demon,
Saint and sinner all at once.
I bring nightmares to dreamers and dreams to the nightmarish.
Married to the day and engaged to the night,
I live though I am dead,
And die so that I may live.
I cry when I am happy and laugh when I am sad,
But smile for no reason at all.
A sensible being who makes no sense at all,
A lover of folly and the folly of perfection.
I exist though I am unreal,
I am real but don’t exist.
I am in every living thing,
Though I am no one, but me.
I could go on seeing as my time is endless,
Yet time is so fleeting I fear I’ve not enough.
So, vile friend, I must be off,
You’ll understand my words someday.
Till then, dear foe, I say farewell
And indeed I say hello.
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Posted: Wed Aug 15, 2007 10:21 pm
and here's the second.
I dream in Color
I dream in color,
Though my world be black and white.
I remain trapped in the ordinary,
Though my spirit longs for flight.
I walk in the light,
Though there be great darkness within me.
I search for warm release,
From the cold reality that binds me.
Will I ever find peace?
Will I ever find freedom?
I know not,
I know not.
Nothing is for certain save the certainty of change.
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Posted: Mon Sep 10, 2007 5:28 am
Therian Style Rules:Each poem that you send to me will cost you 250 gold, Cheap no? No.
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Posted: Wed Oct 24, 2007 3:50 pm
The soft breeze,
an even softer smile,
Nestled in the heart of suburbia,
an Oasis.
A place so dear,
A memory so fond,
mind melting one time with another,
a sunset of impossible beauty,
a never-ending dance.
Nature watches,
jealous,
of the magic,
the perfection,
my dream,
my wife.
There 'tis.... That's the poem... No fancy graphics or pictures... just the words... Hope you liked it... I know she did... smile
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Posted: Tue Nov 20, 2007 4:41 pm
i dont know how i should pay you so i will post now pay later:
The drops of blood
Smash,
Drop,
Linger-
On the tips of fingers
Tasting like metallic raindrops
Thicker than
Tears
Screaming in ears
Ducking to hide
From the ground to sky
To land on me
So mote it be.
its not much but its my style: short and bitter
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Posted: Wed Dec 12, 2007 2:40 pm
I'll give you the money, just give me a spot.
The structure is a bit messed up and so is the rhyming, but it'ss my own style.
They aren’t humans,
they aren’t brothers
We are told to think of them as the enemy,
and death they deserve,
and it is our job that death we serve.
They want to kill,
we want to kill.
We fight for freedom,
but aren’t they fighting for the same?
Rushing up a hill,
explosives of all kinds rain down all around me.
I kill two of them,
not men,
not brothers,
but two filthy, disgusting vermin.
In combat,
you make no friends,
for that friend may fall the very next minute.
My close allies in combat?
My M16A4, my 16 inch knife
is what helps me in rough times.
On top of the hill,
I see all the enemies below us.
When upon a hilltop,
you dictate who dies first.
I get one through the left eye,
another through the chest.
I see three behind cover,
but a grenade kills the rest.
War does not scare me,
neither does the aspect of taking a human life.
I stay calm in rough times,
in war, chaos, and strife.
A beautiful, wonderful wife awaits at home.
I see and hear her in my dreams,
asking me to come back, through the front door.
I can’t, I can’t;
I must stay here and kill some more.
Still upon the hilltop,
thoughts go through my head.
Of family, friends, loved ones,
and everyone I just shot dead.
There is no remorse for them,
no emotions spent on them.
Right now, my wife is my only concern.
I won’t die on her.
I walk down the foreign street.
I hear a praise, I learn of yet another suicide attack.
Yet another day for an American soldier,
at the golden sands of Iraq.
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Posted: Fri Dec 14, 2007 5:37 am
Directions She cries Tears in her eyes She’s lost in a daze Amazed At the many ways Life has messed her up She’s screwed up Fooled up Got knocked up Basically her life’s f*cked up People lost faith in her Told her to Calm down Slow down But nah She had to flit around Flirt around Float around On thin air That was never really there So when she fell And her life twirled Into Hell Her eyes open Leaving her hoping That maybe She could take care of her baby Maybe She could become a true lady Maybe When her daughter grew up She wouldn’t have to look down On how her mother carried herself around Maybe… And she could make it happen She’s already been Up Down And all around The only place left is to go Forward And not look Back On the life she left Behind Amber Tee Gadsden
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