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A Menina Pianista

PostPosted: Sun Nov 06, 2005 7:32 pm


Why can't I have a right to live?
How come it is "Your say"?
To tear me apart before I'm born
And take my life away?
How come you get to live your life
But I can't continue mine?
Why can't you just wait until I'm born
And let my spirit shine?
Why is it so hard to let me live?
Is it because my current state?
Why can't you show me love instead?
Because to me, you're showing hate
Why don't you look into who I'll be
Instead of into "what" I am now?
You only come up with "It's my right."
You don't let me ask "How?"
Instead you call for an appointment
To kill me in a week.
I'll bet you'd hang up that phone right now
If I could choose to not be meek
So why did my calls go unnoticed
When you bought those scary pills?
I guess I am well visible,
But only enough for you to kill.
So I'm noticed... but not needed
I'm not worth enough for you to love
That's why my cries go unheeded?
I think I've had enough!
So I'm not worthy of living
Just because I don't yet have a voice?
So I guess I am a child
But to you, I am a choice?
PostPosted: Mon Nov 14, 2005 1:46 pm


Just curious do poems on this topic have to be abortion related?

karllikespies


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PostPosted: Mon Nov 14, 2005 7:25 pm


Nope. They don't, if you look at mine a grand total of zero are. xd
PostPosted: Mon Nov 14, 2005 7:47 pm


Okay off-hand poem with no prior thought:

You kill me with such simplicity and disgrace
Your thought only go to greed and whats to gain
My pain is not enough for you, broken inside
I can never be, for you long since betrayed me.

Dead inside to hearing screams, only a dullness
This is what you have made of me a savage beast
Blood is never enough, nor your eternal pain
I want you to hurt far worse than this world can make.

I can't stop this uneasiness nor the dying
Please God stop me from turning worse than what I hate
Shivering in the eternal Ice a paradise,
A frozen soul not awake can't degenerate.

Maybe if I keep sleeping I won't destroy more
The numbness will stop my power lest I anger
But how long it will hold is left up to wonder
Please don't ever let me free from my night's slumber.

What you guys think?

karllikespies


A Menina Pianista

PostPosted: Tue Nov 15, 2005 12:20 pm


I like that one, it releases a lot of emotion.

Here's mine... I wrote it down in my journal yesterday when I had nothing to do. I was searching through someone's posts, because I'm snoopy and get bored, and they replied to a topic about what Utopia was. So, I decided to write a poem about Utopia. It's neat because I don't really write poems much, but when I feel the need to, I get them off the top of my head just from being bored. Anyway, here it is.

Utopia

No men who wear earings or dresses or bows on their heads.
No hideous people, or animals dead.

No horrible music or angry white mobs.
No nasty gluttons, or fat hairy slobs.

No houses with ugly yards or computers that suck.
No cursing or spitting or giving a -.

No buses that crash or airplanes that explode.
No flattened skunks, lying dead in the road.

No stupid people who just won't go away.
No robbers or rapists or fat men on sleighs.

No boring books or unwanted shows.
No broken staplers, controllers, or doors that won't close.

No scamming or slamming loud doors all the day.
No unfairness, annoyances, or not getting your way.

No dirty men on streets who have lost their legs.
Or furry bunnies that drop off "Easter Eggs".

No horrible cartoons of cats chasing mice.
Or animals with fleas, or humans with lice.

No shoes without laces or pointless innuendos.
Or dudes without faces or computers without Windows.

This is the land of Utopia I see.
The best aspect of it's that no one argues with me.
PostPosted: Tue Nov 15, 2005 1:16 pm


What! scream I argue! No computer -without- Windows? No Santa?? That sounds like hell! gonk

Not really angry, just sayin'... xp

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A Menina Pianista

PostPosted: Tue Nov 15, 2005 2:22 pm


I.Am
What! scream I argue! No computer -without- Windows? No Santa?? That sounds like hell! gonk

Not really angry, just sayin'... xp


xd

Heheh.. rofl
PostPosted: Sun Nov 27, 2005 4:03 pm


A poem about anorexia. I'm not anorexic nor have I ever been but that's just what came to mind when someone asked me to write a poem with that title. o_o

Killing Her Demons

Singsong tales of a
quidnunc shoreline
dapple an alpenglow
off ebullient minds.


_______ (Mores are winsome and I'm not one for propitious situations)

Screaming languid tales
that drip

____ drip
_______ (drip drop
_______and start again)

But the vampires
are now on a diet
of tea and
sodium deprived

____carbohydrates.
{I hear they've lost like, 30 pounds}

And the skeletons are
green-eyed at the
finesse of parched skin
stretched over
bones wet with

____ ... red wine
____p.u.m.p.i.n.g.p.u.m.p.i.n.g.
______through corpulent veins.


{But what do they know?}

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PostPosted: Mon Nov 28, 2005 12:46 am


Somehow, I'm not entirely sure what everything means in your poem, Miranda, but I like it. biggrin Very poetic. I'll have to read it a couple of times more, and see if I can comprehend it better on the second or third read.
PostPosted: Sat Feb 04, 2006 10:27 am


Here's a wittle poem I wrote... And I found the right thread for it! Whooshes! heart And this poem was inspired by this guild.

The Wanted Children

There's a group of people in this world, you know.
Well, never actually in this world.

They've never seen a man get shot down.
A corpse burn.
A child cry.
A bomb destroy.
A homeless man plead.
Blood trickle from an open wound.

Blessed, are they not?

But then again... they've never seen...

A movie that made them wonder.
A book that made them believe.
A mom that let them lick the spoon after snack time.
A dad that would watch hours of Peanuts with them.
A puppy lick their sticky fingers.
A sun set over the honey-coloured eye that watches over us.

Cursed.

This group of people are not dead, but are not living, either.
This group of people are considered "people" to some.
But mere organisms to others.

This group of people...
Their hands will never hold another.
Their eyes will never cry crocodile's tears.
Their ears will never hear "Green Eggs and Ham" read aloud.
Their hair will never come loose from pigtails and braids.
Their noses will never inhale the scent of Grandma's cookies.
Their mouths will never speak the words "I love you, Mama."
Their torsos will never whip around in circles for hula-hooping contests.
Their legs will never dance in that first ballet recital.
Their feet will never walk the ends of the earth.
Their toes will never wiggle or be compared to Daddy's big toes.
Their lives will never be lived.

Who are these people? These phantoms? These spirits that never survived, but never truly died, either?

They are everywhere. They are in the flowers. The moonlight. The stars. The sun. The clouds. The simple pleasures of the world are but ghosts of these people.

They watch over the wanted children.

Tell me what you think. redface

Ebania

Sarcastic Prophet


lymelady
Vice Captain

PostPosted: Sat Feb 04, 2006 12:36 pm


*claps again* I still think it sounds like a good illustrated story.
PostPosted: Sat Feb 04, 2006 12:56 pm


[ Message temporarily off-line ]

Tiger of the Fire


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PostPosted: Sat Feb 04, 2006 8:53 pm


You kids and your Shakespeare.
PostPosted: Sat Feb 04, 2006 10:10 pm


kp606
You kids and your Shakespeare.
lol

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PostPosted: Sun Feb 05, 2006 9:59 am


Emerald eyes,
disintegrate my disbelief in you
Your paradoxicalities,
Fallacies,
I've already figured you out.

Visualize me,
Romanticize my vision
of desecration,
that was our relationship.
You know what you did.

I can't demonstrate my love:
Narcissistic Marionette,
foolishly praying forgiveness
for something dead.

Complexities are absent,
And so are you.
your presence doesn't warrant
my appreciation.

Obligated, <********,
Abandoned.

Here's one of mine. It's kind of an older one, but it's good.

For me, at least.
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