this is a poem i wrote in my spare time thinking of the girl who i don't have the balls to talk to.
I can tear you in two, I can cause you to cry, I set delusions upon you, I can cause you to lie, I can make you blind, I can cause you to sigh, I can mess with your mind, I can cause you to die, And yet you can't fully understand Why i constantly demand, To be put above, All i am, is Love.
Pliz tell me what ya think, any advice or ideas for other poems, (if you think i'm good enough).
I had one poem published, I will be glad to share it here...
Beauty and the Beast
The beauty stood there before me, The beast hidden within, unseen She showed me her love through passion unending and bared her fangs with anger unbending She tried to hide the beast within but once unleashed, it is impossible to chain again She lied through her sweet little teeth Then slowly drew a knife from it's sheath She drew me in for a gentle embrace and kissed me sweetly on the face That knife she plunged into my back by innocently and clearly stating the facts The woman I once loved was never there Her true beast has been laid bare.
This poem is about my ex-wife after I found out that she had been sleeping with a 30 year old man and telling me she wanted to work things out between us.
Nice Poem Mobius, Yassen Thanks but did you never stop to think that the idea was that it causes you to do these things to yourself, There is usualy a reason behind the trends in poems, see the great poets. Also the idea that it can do these things shows the power it holds over you, sorry but i tend to work into these things to much.
Alotak: Nice Poem Mobius, Yassen Thanks but did you never stop to think that the idea was that it causes you to do these things to yourself, There is usualy a reason behind the trends in poems, see the great poets. Also the idea that it can do these things shows the power it holds over you, sorry but i tend to work into these things to much.
yeah i did stop and think about that but i only realised after i had posted and left. sorry, was just trying to be helpful
Alotak: Nice Poem Mobius, Yassen Thanks but did you never stop to think that the idea was that it causes you to do these things to yourself, There is usualy a reason behind the trends in poems, see the great poets. Also the idea that it can do these things shows the power it holds over you, sorry but i tend to work into these things to much.
yeah i did stop and think about that but i only realised after i had posted and left. sorry, was just trying to be helpful
Alotak: Nice Poem Mobius, Yassen Thanks but did you never stop to think that the idea was that it causes you to do these things to yourself, There is usualy a reason behind the trends in poems, see the great poets. Also the idea that it can do these things shows the power it holds over you, sorry but i tend to work into these things to much.
yeah i did stop and think about that but i only realised after i had posted and left. sorry, was just trying to be helpful
This one isn't finished, it came to me whilst reading a book about how the mind works, I was struck by just how amazing it is to be able to walk on two legs. Not sure how to end it though, definitley feel it needs something more, any suggestions?
Bipedal Locomotion!
It seems wondrous to me we get around in leaps and bounds quite effortlessly.
But I never think to thank my brain for the ceaseless calculation that keeps my head above my legs in contempt of gravitation.
I don't usually do poetry. I like reading it but writing it requires me to be too open about my feelings. But I had to write three poems for an Imaginative Writing course, and this one was my instructor's favorite:
"Emotional Asthma"
My condition restricts me- I can never run far enough, long enough In body or in mind.
It's happening again, That feeling of being left behind. Too slow. The world runs around me- Memories resurface as the present fades. I cannot run with them. I can only watch.
Enemies masquerade as friends; Friends as enemies. Trust is a fleeting dream- One I'm too slow to catch.
Words rip open old wounds. I turn to face one attack, And a dagger's at my back.
I'm never able to run far enough away From the enemies, the pain, the cruel words- The network of lies and deceit Behind a pleasant façade.
There are a couple I wrote in class while really bored (English major).
Monsters
Are Monsters made of wisps of fear Or solid patches, steel and bone? Of heartless moments trapped in ichor, of desolate thoughts, abandoned, alone?
Do Monsters live in minds of children or crevices of grown-up thought? In closets made of flighty dreams that golden coins of greed have bought?
Are Monsters spawned from ether divine, from miraculous, but sordid, conception? Or are they shaped by potters' hands into vilest of Monster exceptions?
I know not those answers divined from constant Monster introspection, but are the Monsters we fear so much a figment of our misconception?
and another one about the day i stubbed my toe on my bike:
In my haste the bike pedal struck me, deserved from years of neglect. Rusted chains wrapped around warped buzzsaws and stretched out cables. Ocean air painting with dull orange spackle, my big toe pulsating with every stroke my heart beats. My nail hanging, barely, A small anchor holding back defiantly, desperately. against the tides of karma.
Alotak: this is a poem i wrote in my spare time thinking of the girl who i don't have the balls to talk to.
I can tear you in two, I can cause you to cry, I set delusions upon you, I can cause you to lie, I can make you blind, I can cause you to sigh, I can mess with your mind, I can cause you to die, And yet you can't fully understand Why i constantly demand, To be put above, All i am, is Love.
Pliz tell me what ya think, any advice or ideas for other poems, (if you think i'm good enough).
This is one of those situations where there's no way to give advice without seeming arrogant, so I'll roll with it.
"Cause you to" is a soft phrase, and doesn't fit the tone of the poem. Replace it with a more direct one. "Make you" works fine.
I would also replace "delusions upon" with "nightmares on" (it fits the cadence better), change "make you blind" to "strike you blind", and find a phrase besides "mess with your mind". The rest of the language in your poem is direct. "Mess with your mind" is another soft phrase that doesn't fit the overall tone. How about "break" instead of "mess with"?
Then, lose the adverbs. They mitigate the language of the last verse, and aren't necessary.
So, the entire thing would read:
I can tear you in two, I can make you cry, I can set nightmares on you, I can make you lie,
I can strike you blind, I can make you sigh, I can break your mind, I can make you die,
Yet you don't understand Why I demand, To be put above, All I am is Love.
It's a good poem, by the way. That's just my nickel's worth of advice on what I would do with it.
This is one of those situations where there's no way to give advice without seeming arrogant, so I'll roll with it.
*CHEER* finally somebody who is a cynic (Spelling?) thanks for the revised version mate can i take it to pin to the Notice board of my school, its great fun as people will demand to know who it is and i will never tell until they figure out it was Me and You!
(last time i did it the head of English asked who it was in assembly tehe)
You should post mine and instead of leaving it as anonymous, put my name at the top... Okay, enough self-serving vanity. But I do like it. I had some qualms about how it was done, but my specialty is writing anything BUT poetry, so I didn't know how you could have changed it to make it better. Good Job guys!
I'm not sure I'm a cynic, exactly, since I do hold out hope there is a virtuous core to the soul that mankind will one day embrace. It's just so far, like Diogenes with a lantern, I keep running into a disappointing lack of proof it's true.
De nada for the advice, and your poem is of course yours to do with as you please. It's your poem and yours alone, and so is the credit for writing it. I only suggested a minor edit or two.
Eve and Medusa are roadtripping through the desert southwest in a teal-green Thunderbird convertible. Medusa brought it home for Valentine's Day a surprise for Eve to say nothing of the men at the dealership. Saw it in the window walked in and shook off her green silk head-wrap.
Eve knows in her gut the car is stolen. Doesn't care.
The road snakes through monuments of red rock framed in celluloid heat that shimmers at 24 frames a second. Eve sick of suburban gardens Medusa at home in a landscape of stone.
Medusa's hair does not blow and tangle but suns itself upon her shoulders reflects in the mirror of Eve's sunglasses. Eve strokes Medusa's neck coils her fingers in curls that coil back thinks back to her first love and smiles.
As a rule of thumb I refrain from writing about anything that I can't put into graph form, so I'll instead regurgitate a poem from one of my favourite poets, writing a eulogy for another one of my favourite poets.
In Memory of W.B. Yeats
I
He disappeared in the dead of winter: The brooks were frozen, the airports almost deserted, The snow disfigured the public statues; The mercury sank in the mouth of the dying day. What instruments we have agree The day of his death was a dark cold day.
Far from his illness The wolves ran on through the evergreen forests, The peasant river was untempted by the fashionable quays; By mourning tongues The death of the poet was kept from his poems.
But for him it was his last afternoon as himself, An afternoon of nurses and rumours; The provinces of his body revolted, The squares of his mind were empty, Silence invaded the suburbs, The current of his feeling failed; he became his admirers.
Now he is scattered among a hundred cities And wholly given over to unfamiliar affections, To find his happiness in another kind of wood And be punished under a foreign code of conscience. The words of a dead man Are modified in the guts of the living.
But in the importance and noise of to-morrow When the brokers are roaring like beasts on the floor of the Bourse, And the poor have the sufferings to which they are fairly accustomed, And each in the cell of himself is almost convinced of his freedom, A few thousand will think of this day As one thinks of a day when one did something slightly unusual. What instruments we have agree The day of his death was a dark cold day.
II
You were silly like us; your gift survived it all: The parish of rich women, physical decay, Yourself. Mad Ireland hurt you into poetry. Now Ireland has her madness and her weather still, For poetry makes nothing happen: it survives In the valley of its making where executives Would never want to tamper, flows on south From ranches of isolation and the busy griefs, Raw towns that we believe and die in; it survives, A way of happening, a mouth.
III
Earth, receive an honoured guest: William Yeats is laid to rest. Let the Irish vessel lie Emptied of its poetry.
[Auden later deleted the next three stanzas.]
Time that is intolerant Of the brave and the innocent, And indifferent in a week To a beautiful physique,
Worships language and forgives Everyone by whom it lives; Pardons cowardice, conceit, Lays its honours at their feet.
Time that with this strange excuse Pardoned Kipling and his views, And will pardon Paul Claudel, Pardons him for writing well.
In the nightmare of the dark All the dogs of Europe bark, And the living nations wait, Each sequestered in its hate;
Intellectual disgrace Stares from every human face, And the seas of pity lie Locked and frozen in each eye.
Follow, poet, follow right To the bottom of the night, With your unconstraining voice Still persuade us to rejoice.
With the farming of a verse Make a vineyard of the curse, Sing of human unsuccess In a rapture of distress.
In the deserts of the heart Let the healing fountains start, In the prison of his days Teach the free man how to praise.
i have never taken my own poetry too seriously, more of a novelist/description person
Opaque Little Stairs
Opaque little stairs that rise and rise With no changing or thickening in size And yes they raise forever They bloom from eternal never Be careful not to slip So clumsy as a trip To avoid falling Into the wonderful endless space surrounding
Opaque little stairs rise and rise Elevating and booming to the skies And no we can’t be together One’s trip’s a lonely forever Until we grow and burst through the lights Taking in the enormous and stretching sights To forever fly And view the wonderful endless space surrounding
Opaque little stairs fall and dissolve Falling and sinking Into the endless ocean of darkness Broken into reflective shards of resolve We scream and shout When we harness the ability to live without Opaque little stairs
theres so much wrong theres so much pain i dont know how to explain that God is real jst wait and see ill prove you wrong dont you believe when the time comes im going home just look into it i dont want to go alone he put us here to spread his word but look around i havnt heard theres a man i call my lord he is AWESOME his love is STRONG for me and for you just listen to this song praise him, love him and youll go home after death its where you belong his word is the bible havent you seen life is to good to waste so go my brothers and my sisters dont hesitate spread the word like the flu make it contagouse its already new dont cry and dont waste time for our time on earth is almost at its FINISH LINE!!!! hey if you all dont mind i would like it if you posted me a comment telling me if this is good or not and wut i can do to fix it. my youth pastor at my old church asked me to write something cuz we were speaking about the rapture in youth group.
Alotak: this is a poem i wrote in my spare time thinking of the girl who i don't have the balls to talk to.
I can tear you in two, I can cause you to cry, I set delusions upon you, I can cause you to lie, I can make you blind, I can cause you to sigh, I can mess with your mind, I can cause you to die, And yet you can't fully understand Why i constantly demand, To be put above, All i am, is Love.
Pliz tell me what ya think, any advice or ideas for other poems, (if you think i'm good enough).
WOW!!!!!! THIS IS REALLY GOOD!!! i think u should keep writing and i also think that this is good enough to get published. keep up th egood work!!!! read mine.
Thanks, your poem is realy good, but i'm afriad i disagree with angle, I find it hard to believe in a being which could put me through so much pain. sorry.
These are Free Verse Poems, so don't look for coherency. Again these are about a girl at my school who i like.
You know he likes her but you don't encorage, I will encorage him if you encorage her, In helping them, We may become closer.
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As i look into your Eyes, I see the light only i can see, It dulls all others, removing their lies, And you still don't see me.
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Now you see him, i am but another, He knows how i feel, ingnores his creed, He once was my brother, I have begun to wonder if he'll change, When i cause him to bleed, Then mabye he wil re-arange, And your may see me, the other.
AndiGravity: I'm not sure I'm a cynic, exactly, since I do hold out hope there is a virtuous core to the soul that mankind will one day embrace. It's just so far, like Diogenes with a lantern, I keep running into a disappointing lack of proof it's true.
Your a cynic, because deep down, you know, you search in vain.
Dang I had just finished writing a booklet of opoetry in english and i don't have it on me, luckily I remembered one of the best ones I did which was a Haiku.
Cake
The Cake is a lie Actually that is not true, There is cake for you!
this is a poem i wrote in my spare time thinking of the girl who i don't have the balls to talk to.
I can tear you in two,
I can cause you to cry,
I set delusions upon you,
I can cause you to lie,
I can make you blind,
I can cause you to sigh,
I can mess with your mind,
I can cause you to die,
And yet you can't fully understand
Why i constantly demand,
To be put above,
All i am,
is Love.
Pliz tell me what ya think, any advice or ideas for other poems, (if you think i'm good enough).