Poetry

twisted

How could you ever twist me this way?
Answers become questions, things I'd not say.
I cannot explain my very own genocide,
I stand on the edge of my own suicide.

If I can't reveal my own horrid fear,
The end of myself draws ever near.
I break the rules of my own morbid game,
My life now it feels, straight down the drain.

I drugged myself, with everything known,
Is this really me, or just one of my clones?
The burning inside me is real all the same,
My life to this moment has been only shame.

No purpose, no goal, not even destiny,
I'm climbing the walls of my own sanity.
Why do you point and pretend to know me?
What purpose do I serve ending my own misery?

2007-12-28 09:07:45 · 10 answers · asked by The Dark Prince 3

fables

I am now bleeding, just bleeding for you,
Reliving the abuse that I long ago knew.
Drowned in a lake, surrounded by spires,
How deep the scars, marked in me by fire.

On a long walk, a cold winters night,
Inhaling the stars, drowning in fright.
Did you enjoy all of your twisted games,
You even escaped, without any blame.

Swallow the taste, the one you once craved,
Wallow in filth, you were sick and depraved.
I cry a sad smile, not worth dying for,
I've finally come, to the last golden door.

I look all around, the world is a dream,
Traveling to places, I wake up and scream.
Terror above, as beautiful as the night,
Black Angels abound, swimming in soft blue light.

2007-12-28 08:30:46 · 5 answers · asked by The Dark Prince 3

*****
The time has come
For me to gather
Up my goods
And move along

We’ve traded thoughts
And some mementoes
Made new friends
And sang a song

Don not forget
To call the tinker
When your heart
It needs a mend

I am here
Along the pathway
In the house
Round the bend

*****

2007-12-28 08:17:08 · 17 answers · asked by Anonymous

I write poetry, but i currently have no idea what to write a poem about! Do you have a quick story or idea I could use?

2007-12-28 07:06:14 · 4 answers · asked by Anonymous

*****

Dream packages C.O.D. on U.P.S.
No goodies, unless they gets paid for
The bent brown box from a straight brown truck
My Buck knife slips down the taped edges
The flaps unfold, exploding foam
Underneath, another package I see
This one is wrapped in golden paper
To you from me, it says on the label
I lift out the package, spilling peanuts
The ribbon and bow had a rough trip in the truck
But my box looks no worse for wear
I loose the bindings from my bundle
Delicately tearing away the tape
I like to save the paper, I don’t know why
Under the golden sheet is another layer
A cornucopia printed on the box
I raise it up high and shake it around
I have no idea what is inside
It is very light…

*****




I warned you!
Ta Dah!

2007-12-28 06:50:05 · 8 answers · asked by Anonymous

Ok, this truly pertains to those of you who know my work.

First off I'd like to thank you all for humbling me so (although I truly do not think I deserve such praise) I was awake, in bed like forever last night, afraid to even think about submitting to Faber & Faber. It made me sick but, then, your words made me smile and gave me courage
(well, at least in my dreams I had courage)
There are a few of you that have been saving copies
(blushing)
and although I don't think I am worthy to be published, I'm trying desperately to choose 6 poems to revise, re-edit and polish for submission. Would any of you be willing to help? My daughter Cedi is going to give it go too and send in some works
and I'd advise you all to have a go also. I have read some grand poetry here from all of you and believe that every poet should be a published one *^_^*
If you would like for me to help you along also, I would be more than happy to oblige.

All the Very Best, Shad @)~>~

2007-12-28 06:09:42 · 11 answers · asked by TrollHunter 3

I have it all figured out… all paths leading to the unknown are explained through a pinch of kindness and a dash of compassion, like a soup of understanding that I would drink on the coldest day. words that take time to write, but no time at all to adapt into your heart as truth. thus leading me to question if we are all born good and led to the dark side with our sorrow? I don’t know, I haven’t figured it all out yet.

2007-12-28 04:01:39 · 6 answers · asked by kub2 4

2007-12-28 02:49:38 · 4 answers · asked by c.beebop 1

can anyone give me a site where I can put my poems and have them reviewed?

2007-12-28 01:35:23 · 5 answers · asked by Anonymous

A ransom has been paid, so this poem is "extra."

What can I take?
Thre's no TV ad
to help my heart
stop feeling bad

If I could find
one little pill
would meds relieve
my loving mill?

The turning gears
keep creating lines
for my angel
from ripened vines

But is my will
to love her too strong?
No pill? Give one
more dose of song.


I've been writing poems for more than twenty years.... my method has ALWAYS been to be perfect before a word goes on paper. but with this one, because I constrained myself with syllables and tried to make it as absolutely short as possible, the page is full of cross-outs and revisions.... and I'm still not sure that the two ideas are separate and convergent.... thanks for your input.
Kurt

2007-12-28 00:02:13 · 6 answers · asked by Kurt H™ FC Steaua Bucureşti 3

2007-12-27 22:51:26 · 8 answers · asked by Anonymous

Wish I had the skill of poets past
And write for you poems: Epics and Sonnets,
Ballads and songs of love and tell you
How I feel about you and what you do
To me when you look at me
With those lovely bright eyes
And bless me with your dimpled smile.

Since I lack this skill,
I'll ask the help of singing birds
At the dawn of spring,
The beauty of the setting sun
In a far-away yet undiscovered
Holiday destination,
The bright flames of the trees in autumn,
Freshly fallen snow in winter,
The smile on an infants face
And the laughter and innocence of a child.

2007-12-27 22:01:14 · 6 answers · asked by wallstreet 2

the haze of a winters sunset
welcomes the close
of but another day

overstuffed confusion
on the boder of contempt
patience whispers
don't jump to conclusion

the ear hears the stillness
the sound of
solitude
remoteness

something wrong
with the brain
that reflects this way?

to enter
sclience
stillness
to end the day,to begin another.

2007-12-27 17:16:35 · 3 answers · asked by dorian 3

dirty sheets
toss em aside
just use the comforter
to cover up

make love till ya moan
keep each warm
no comforter needed
just body heat

in the morn
do it again
no dirty sheets

just the comforter
and fresh coffee
to awaken
the next morn.

D.

ps hope he censors will print this,,,,,

2007-12-27 15:32:33 · 3 answers · asked by dorian 3

****
I want to dance on a pole
I want to entertain the folks
I want to be admired for me
…not just a sexy thing

I want to sing in a cage
I want to wear a feather boa
I want to be home before her
…not just a play thing

I want to be understood
I want to show my undies, just a little
I want to get a ride to the store
…keep your hands to yourself

*****

2007-12-27 11:13:13 · 10 answers · asked by Anonymous

*****
I hear the spirits calling
Words from a language unwritten
I sit in a chair and wait…
I have waited a long time
The spirits will not shut up
They keep rambling on
…duty, honor, country
How can I get around it?
How can I get over it?

****

2007-12-27 10:48:05 · 10 answers · asked by Anonymous

*****
I am a hard working cat
I get up and I go, and that’s that
I don’t take ciggy breaks no more
…work work work

I have a ham sammy for lunch
And some chips for to munch
But I won’t get a bunch of crumbs
…on the work stuff

I can go get supplies, and the mail
I can type with both paws
For my tea break, I like sardines
…then right back to work

*****

2007-12-27 10:43:31 · 8 answers · asked by Anonymous

It starts with one flower that grows to a person, than people, who start a war and end up destroying everything. The poem ends where it starts off, with one flower again.

2007-12-27 10:26:07 · 1 answers · asked by Kenny H 1

Awake...Not Alert...


Chairs to vacuum
Carpets to dust
Banks to rob...
Uh. No...
Piggy banks to rob.

Dog to kill
Fleas to walk
Dishes to break...
Uh. Yes...
Dishes to break.

Hair to floss
Teeth to spray
Schedule to meet...
Uh. No.
Man to meet.

Coffe pot is empty
Got to make another
Drink, lay in bed
Relax from a 30 minute day.


Elysabeth

2007-12-27 10:15:02 · 18 answers · asked by Elysabeth 7

And The Stars Were Just...


Too high tonight...
My telescope never
Brought them within
Reach....

Why should I wish to
Reach out...
And, with one
Tiny finger,

Give them a gift of
The Earth...?
How silly of me on
This Night....

This Earth was their
Gift...
To us.


Elysabeth...poemhunter, as in .com

2007-12-27 09:50:44 · 10 answers · asked by Elysabeth 7

Tinsel


All was so quiet Christmas morn
after the robbery Christmas Eve
We spent that night, all in one room
And pondered “why’s” about the thieves

No doll for Linleigh, no games for Matt
Closing my eyes these were my dreams
No bike for Tylar, no pup for Trae
No joys that Christmas always brings

So very quiet when I arose
To see Mercedi sitting here
involved in wrapping ‘round her finger
One strand of tinsel left unaware

Slowly awakening sleepy eyes
Said Merry Christmas to all
With smiles on their faces to my surprise
Without stockings on the wall

Dad made a breakfast, an omelette delight
Then we all got dressed for the day
With no presents to open I wondered
How the children remained calm and gay

Giggling quickly turned into grand laughter
Coming from the family den
Dad and I peeked ‘round the corner to see
Children passing that tinsel again and again

2007-12-27 05:57:51 · 9 answers · asked by TrollHunter 3

the tears that fall
don't comprehend
the way it all
all began
in a flash
selling something out for cash
but you saved
but you had
but you got
now i've got mad
but this is me
and you are where?

2007-12-27 05:30:40 · 2 answers · asked by Anonymous

please, find words for me to finish this up, ok? THanks a lot.

2007-12-27 05:06:19 · 25 answers · asked by Anonymous

In a cave I lurk,
Hidden from the outside
I cannot see what I am,
Or where I am from.

The forest is my home,
And the earth my boundary,
I am but a little one,
But shall evolve to become part of my pack,
And I will become the one.

But first I must go through the many levels of life,
From base to consequential is a challenge,
A challenge I can’t make alone,
The challenge of becoming a leader.

To lead is my proud father’s job,
And I intend to follow him,
But following his footsteps is the challenge,
For it took him handfuls of battles to become one,
But I will be better,
For I am destined for that place,
The place of a leader.

The day finally comes,
When the stench of meat sways near my nose,
For a new leader was chosen,
Not me.

I had to come with nervousness by my side,
When we began growling and ripping,
For both of us wanted the same thing,
To become a leader.

2007-12-27 04:42:50 · 2 answers · asked by jessica_dianka 3

--Racing Shoes

My old shoes are lovely
I carry them in a pillow case
When I feel lonely
I take them out and race

Sometimes I race against bikes
Sometimes against cars
With both of those I lose
But I always win with stars

2007-12-27 03:08:33 · 2 answers · asked by Frank L. Butterscotch 2

*****

Panthera tigris

You live in the jungle,
Yet you fear nothing
S
_T
__A
___L
____K
_____I
______N
_______G
______C
_____A
____T
Even the trees offer little defense
If she plans to eat you, you’re et’

I live in the jungle,
I fear many things
V
_U
__L
___N
____E
_____R
______A
_______B
________L
_________E
________M
_______A
______N
I can beat many beasts,
When I am hungry, I eat

I have to power to draw lines
You have indifference to them
I
_N
__C
___O
____M
_____P
______A
_______T
________A
_________B
__________L
___________E
__________L
_________I
________V
_______E
______S
When you don’t stay in your cage,
We must kill you before you kill us

*****

2007-12-27 02:24:45 · 10 answers · asked by Anonymous

When I ask this question, is does not include the ES’ers or the Bashers.

On some pieces that I see, there have been multiple critiques of a certain piece, and although not always the same they circle the same concept, and then at times, they do not.

Do you feel they are a hindrance or a help?

2007-12-26 18:21:53 · 8 answers · asked by Sam 4

This poem is by Emily Dickinson called "My Life had stood- a Loaded Gun"

I just need help analying this part of the poem...

And do I smile, such cordial light
Opon the Valley glow-
It is as a Vesuvian face
Had let it's pleasure through

2007-12-26 14:44:17 · 2 answers · asked by Robby 2

Out Of Dirt
Written by Semper Fi Reborn

I was at first,
Countless grains of dust blowing in the wind.
Settling briefly on the Earth,
Only to be blown around again.

Parts of me settled hither and yon,
On grass and rock alike.
Neither had I any form,
To give clues as to what I was like.

Then God scooped me up,
Like One Who Has A Plan.
And I heard a Mighty voice exclaim,
Let Us therefore make man!

He shaped and formed,
And molded with speed.
His breath He blew,
Causing me to live and breathe.

I praised Him greatly,
And Glorified Him for His Work.
How Awesome Is Our God?
Who made a man form,
Out of dirt?

2007-12-26 11:36:30 · 16 answers · asked by Semp-listic! 7

Stop it stop it don't do that
cease and desist and unchop that tree
stand up for justice and stuff
stop the war and bomb the bad guys and whatever

2007-12-26 10:56:42 · 28 answers · asked by Anonymous