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Poetry ( any type of poem you want)

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Poetry ( any type of poem you want)

Post by master chief on Tue Mar 29, 2011 12:22 am

Since mr facebook started a poetry topic, I thought that I'd like to make a poetry topic too. tbh i love poetry, it can really speak to me. Post any type of poetry u find interesting or you made up.

Here are some poems I made up for my English class:
This poem is called, My Takamine Guitar, an Ode poem.

My Takamine Guitar
Beat up, scratched, more than one scar.
This guitar is very unique,
Its neck is very sleek.
This is my guitar.

When unplugged,
My guitar is a regular guitar.
When plugged,
My guitar's sound is better by far.
This is my guitar.

btw this poem was obviously written for my Takamine Santa Fe Acoustic guitar. I love playing the guitar. My guitar can be plugged into an amp, and when it's plugged into an amp, the sound is so much better. Very Happy HOPE U ALL ENJOYED MY ODE POEM.
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Re: Poetry ( any type of poem you want)

Post by Srusader Guy on Tue Mar 29, 2011 6:12 pm

Suicide, suicide in my head,
Suicide, suicide I'm nearly dead,
Suicide, suicide my wrists are cut,
Suicide, suicide I know i'm morally unwell.

Suicide, suicide still in my head,
Suicide, suicide the razors red,
Suicide, suicide my hands dread,
Suicide, suicide I know i'm morally unwell.


Suicide, suicide prevailing in my head,
Suicide, suicide the beginning of life,
Suicide, suicide the end of sorrow,
Suicide, suicide the end of pain.

Suicide, suicide in my head,
Suicide, suicide c'mon pull the trigger,
Suicide, suicide I'm dead,
Suicide, suicide I know i'm morally unwell.

This cannot be beaten, except possibly by Thallium.


Last edited by Srusader Guy on Tue Mar 29, 2011 6:12 pm; edited 1 time in total (Reason for editing : Grammarfail.)
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Re: Poetry ( any type of poem you want)

Post by Terrorist/FireAssassin on Wed Mar 30, 2011 4:37 pm

That poem is very disturbing, especially since in wood shop yesterday, my friend was using a radial arm saw (don't know what it is? LOOK IT UP!), and her hand got in the way. I was standing adjacent to her. Long story short, her tendons were severed, bone fractured and exposed, blood gushing everywhere.

My teacher says its the most blood he's seen in his 28 years.

An interesting poem ('cause I know you want one):


Reflections on a Gift of Watermelon Pickle
Received from a Friend Called Felicity

During that summer
When unicorns were still possible;
When the purpose of knees
Was to be skinned;
When shiny horse chestnuts
(Hollowed out
fitted with straws
crammed with tobacco
stolen from butts
In family ashtrays)
Were puffed in green lizard silence
While straddling thick branches
Far above and away
From the softening effects
of civilization;

During that summer--
Which may never have been at all;
But which has become more real
Than the one that was---
Watermelons ruled.

Thick pink imperial slices
Melting frigidly on sun-parched tongues
Dribbling from chin;
leaving the best part,
The black bullet seeds,
To be spit out in rapid fire
Against the wall
Against the wind
Against each other;

And when the ammunition was spent,
There was always another bite;
It was a summer of limitless bites,
Of hungers quickly felt
And quickly forgotten
With the next careless gorging.

The bites are fewer now.
Each one is savored lingeringly,
Swallowed reluctantly.

But in a jar put up by Felicity,
The summer which maybe never was
Has been captured and preserved.
And when we unscrew the lid
And slice off a piece
And let it linger on our tongue;
Unicorns become possible again.
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Re: Poetry ( any type of poem you want)

Post by Facebook on Fri Apr 01, 2011 7:12 pm

This took about 5 minutes

It's a world where all is sideways up and upways down
This world we live in, it's not making sense that we worry about
It's just the social networking that keeps us afloat

We know not who to add, or who to subtract
From this wonderful equation, of our social networking
It causes chemicals to seep, from my brain that stopped working

There is nothing to do, but wallow in our own mistakes
There is noone to see, but the god awful fakes
But when we close our eyes, we learn another form of sight

We can hear the world, its clarity and all
It seems we were wrong, this world isn't so hazy
It was just ourselves, whom we have found to be batshit crazy.


________________________________________________

This one... Well, i'm dissapointed in it. It took me an hour, and to be honest, i find one of the stanza's disturbing. Wrote it a couple of months ago, though:

There's already so much going on in the media,
Now you're telling me we can't even trust wikipedia?
We've got so much information around that can't be trusted,
But right now i'm waiting for Phineas and Ferb to finally get busted.

There's so much to do, and so little time,
But still i sit here trying to make up some rhymes.
But since i'm young and unemployed they say that i've got the time,
But if i have fun time'll fly, so i better just sit here and not get paid a dime.

They say this generation is lazy, yeah, movies are all the rage,
But there's a reason for this, and it's that we don't have the energy to turn another page.
And we don't go outside or play sports either, you say,
But that's 'cause we can do all of it online today.

But i guess that's the least of our problems today,
In a world where so many lives are just thrown away.
And in a world where the soon-to-be never live,
'Cause their parents abort their lives as if it were theirs to give.

Every day we wake up, and someone else is dead on the news,
But we just say 'that's a shame' and continue deciding which breakfast cereal we'll choose.
I guess that's just the way the cookie crumbles,
We'll always sit back and watch others stumble.

Facebook

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Re: Poetry ( any type of poem you want)

Post by Proof on Sat Apr 02, 2011 12:17 am

I can't write


Last edited by Proof on Sat Oct 29, 2011 11:14 pm; edited 1 time in total
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Re: Poetry ( any type of poem you want)

Post by Srusader Guy on Sat Apr 02, 2011 1:30 am



Lies,
crawling like a snake,
twirling and turning up,
bending corners and arch,
going way high up,
to the your tasteful tongue
of words.
It poisoned you.
Your face, your eyes, your gestures
were poisoned by the snake,
we can all see it,
we can all see it,
the colour of poison
swirling on your body.

You uttered some murmurs,
which we barely understood,
not that we are stupid,
we are just too smart to understand,
your lies,
your every word of dishonesty,
written up and down,
across your poisoned body.

We believe you.
Yes we do,
as if your words preach like the priest,
the father of the crowd,
the killer of our mates,
we believe you.
Yes we do.

We are awfully sin,
all for god’s willing,
words which we believed,
to sin,
we will.

Google FTW.

I interpret it as the media and society making retards more retarded. *Shifts eyes at some people*
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Re: Poetry ( any type of poem you want)

Post by Terrorist/FireAssassin on Tue Apr 05, 2011 4:11 pm

Here's a poem I started singing on the bus home today. Makes no sense, even to me.

I am a lonely koala bear
See me do a little dance
I have a bucket full of snails
Which I shall now pour down your pants.
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Re: Poetry ( any type of poem you want)

Post by Darth_MFer on Wed Apr 06, 2011 2:55 pm

Terrorist/FireAssassin wrote:Here's a poem I started singing on the bus home today. Makes no sense, even to me.

I am a lonely koala bear
See me do a little dance
I have a bucket full of snails
Which I shall now pour down your pants.

That is my life story.

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Re: Poetry ( any type of poem you want)

Post by Terrorist/FireAssassin on Fri Apr 15, 2011 4:15 pm

I Am The People, The Mob
A Poem by Carl Sandburg


I am the people--the mob--the crowd--the mass.
Do you know that all the great work of the world is done through me?
I am the workingman, the inventor, the maker of the world's food and
clothes.
I am the audience that witnesses history. The Napoleons come from me
and the Lincolns. They die. And then I send forth more Napoleons
and Lincolns.
I am the seed ground. I am a prairie that will stand for much plowing.
Terrible storms pass over me. I forget. The best of me is sucked out
and wasted. I forget. Everything but Death comes to me and makes
me work and give up what I have. And I forget.
Sometimes I growl, shake myself and spatter a few red drops for history
to remember. Then--I forget.
When I, the People, learn to remember, when I, the People, use the
lessons of yesterday and no longer forget who robbed me last year,
who played me for a fool--then there will be no speaker in all the
world say the name: "The People," with any fleck of a sneer in his
voice or any far-off smile of derision.
The mob--the crowd--the mass--will arrive then.
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Re: Poetry ( any type of poem you want)

Post by Rosey on Sun Feb 07, 2016 7:23 pm

awwww
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Re: Poetry ( any type of poem you want)

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