who here likes to write poetry?

Question

would you show me some of your work?

Answer 1

Hey raquel i write poetry. I'll show you one... I wrote this poem a few time ago. Hope you like it:

MONOLOG LOVE


That day in the Island,
You gave me consolation
Because a Colombian Boy
Just left me desolation.

you said,
that she was from Brazil,
And those sweet words
Honestly hurts me still.

Eating in a restaurant
I found out you loved her so,
Not strong enough to ask
Why did you let her go ?

I wanted to suggest
Hey, take yourself a chance
Go and look for her
And give to you just a little glance.

My glamorous boy from Tasmania
An old man in the street, remember,
Asked me if you were from Alemania

I felt so sorry,
for calling you iceberg
Maybe I just didn’t realize
That only as a friend you can be nicer.

It is just that thinking of you
I was making conclutions
But none of my words
Gave me solutions

You must be thinking
That for you I’m dying
All I can say my dear
Is that this MONOLOG LOVE is drying.

I set you free from my memories
And it is a shame,
That my pure love for you
Has begun to decease.

Sometimes I wonder
Does the proud worth ?
For me that feeling
Is becoming this world worst.


Inspired in the man from Hobart.




.

Answer 2

I do, but my poetry stinks. I rhyme badly. Improv, kind of.

I don't like the song
which is way too long
cause it is truly terrible
not wearble
over my head
should be dead.


(The song is over my head by the fray and they're playing it on the radio right now!)

I made that up on the spot.

Answer 3

I like to write poetry - but its probably too long and boring to post here... LoL and all my friends will read it and laugh at me... which is something I sooo don't want...

*sticks out tongue @ my friends* - you know who you are!

Answer 4

i like to write poetry....but my poetry is kind of private. Sorry

Answer 5

i like poetry, i cant write it but i like to read it

Answer 6

i love to write poetry . you can find me on poetry.com and my name is sabrina witt if you would like to look my poetry up

Answer 7

You can see an example of mine posted as a riddle

Answer 8

I like to write poety, but it's kinda depressing (not in an emo-slash-my-wrists kinda way) ...I dunno if it's good or not, lol

Answer 9

I DO! but i cant share

Answer 10

I like to write poetry. Here's one of my poems (it's more like a song with a lot of rhyming in it) Hope you enjoy. You can also go to my site at: http://www.lulu.com/content/365597 to read more poems from my book and preview it for free.


If I Was A Man
If I was a man for a day, I’d be myself. I wouldn’t act like a girl and act risque or insane. If I was a man for a day, I’d say hay to my buddies even though I’m all muddy.
I wear my shoes in this house. I wear the pants in this relationship, in the marriage. You’ve got to see it from a man’s point of view.
I’m the one who’s got the news. Is it good news or bad news? I’ve got the information. FYI. Why I am the man. I am the man. It sure is risky.
Give me the keys; you’re as drunk as a skunk and you can’t drive. Why would a man lie? If I was a man for a day, I’d wear drag. What a drag.
I have bags under my eyes. I have shag under the sky which is the floor. I’m poor right now and can’t afford a front door, bedroom doors, a wooden floor, or more.
To a man, life is a bore. Life is a chore. A wife’s a whore who walks on all fours as her tears pour. She cannot roar because her mouth is sore from singing on tour.
The same clothes she’s already wore. She likes to snore; she likes to score. She always wants more. A woman always waves the red flag.
She is really mad but mostly at her dad but also at me. She likes to take her anger out on me. She wishes she could throw her dad at me.
She wishes she could throw that man at me. She came on to him. She likes to put the blame on him. She likes to put the blame on men.
She likes to put the blame on her husband even though she has no substance. She has no mint to chew.
You have to see it from a woman’s point of view, from a woman’s pointed shoes. When men come in, what they don’t do is wipe their shoes.
They have mud on their shoes and don’t take them off and leave them at the door. They have mud on their shoes, and the carpet looks like poo. How could you?
Do you know how hard it is to get mud out of the carpet? Do you know how hard it is to get mud out? My luck is running out. Do you know how hard it is to get a man out?
Get off my back. Get this rat off my back. Get this man off my back. He’s about to break this hot mamma’s back.
Bill killed my heart by not paying the electric bill. Now this shack is black. The squeaky floors go clack, clack, clack.
The rusty pipes go tap, tap, tap. For doing this, I’d like to give my man a slap, slap, slap. Then I’d apologize and sleep in his lap like I would with my dad.
He made me glad to be his daughter. I was glad he was my father, but he is no longer. I want to be a jogger not a streetwalker, not a back talker.
With a man, I’m not a bad talker. I’m not a bad walker, but I’m a bad doctor. It’s a good thing I’m a bad stalker.
See it from a man’s point of view, a man’s pointed cowboy shoes, a man’s pointed cowboy boots. With his pretend gun, he likes to shoot.
Like an owl, he likes to hoot. Like a car, he likes to toot. He thinks he’s so cute. The cowboy boots are the hoot of his boyhood. He likes to play hoops.
He likes to shoot a hoop. He doesn’t like to hula hoop. A man is a hunk who likes to bunk up. He likes to make a slam dunk. A man has no funk.
He never stunk like a skunk, but he got as drunk as a skunk. A man never sunk even if he lived out of his trunk. A man doesn’t like junk, but don’t be fooled; he’s no monk.
He’s no punk. Into your room, he snuck. In your window, he never got stuck. He never stunk even though he lived in his trunk.
A man is the alpha male that will pay your bail to get you out of jail. He’s not blind and can’t read brail. He’ll find you; he’s on your trail.
He’s taking a risk by driving on the train rails. He won’t fail. He’s as slow as a snail. But he’s not frail even in the hail of a nightingale.
He’ll get his female out of jail by paying her bail. He’s on her trail. He’ll get her mail, but a man doesn’t know how to do a girls’ nails.
Betcha we’ll or they’ll be Jack and Jill who went up a hill to fetch a pail. To play with quail on the train rails. Jill still had the same nails.
A man likes to sail even when his woman’s stale, or she likes to tell fake tales or make fake trails. During the wedding, if the groom is under the vale, he will really wail. He went to Yale, and now he’s for sale.
Wow, he’s for sale I betcha we’ll be Jack and Jill who went up a hill to fetch a pail. If I was a man for a day, I’d hit the hay.
If I was a man for a day, I wouldn’t let you get away. If I was a man for a day, I’d let you get your way. If I was a man, I’d hit the can.
I’d put a fan in the bathroom to get rid of the fume in the bathroom that’s caused by all that junk food.
Didn’t the doctor tell you to stop eating cheese? Didn’t he tell you to eat your peas? Didn’t he tell you to eat all your veggies?
Didn’t he tell you, instead of eating sweet things, to eat honey from bees? It’s sweeter than sugar, sweeter than candy.
Didn’t the doctor tell you to not eat chips? Didn’t the doctor tell you to not eat baby back ribs? Didn’t the doctor tell you to not eat tri tips?
As the burger flips, your mouth drips. You start to lick your lips as you see a bowl of potato chips and cheese nips.
You never close the toilet lid; You never help me raise or cloth the kids. I’d make some bids on Ebay if I was a man for a day.
If you want to know what it’s like to be me; if you want to have empathy for me, wear this empathy belly. You don’t have to deliver.
You don’t have a baby smashing your liver. You’re not the giver or forgiver. When you’re cold in the river, you never shiver.
When you’re scared, you’ll never quiver. When a woman’s got hormones, the whore’s got to go. The whore’s got to go to the whore’s home. The whore’s got to go to the whore’s humble abode. To get in, you need the secret code, but you need to give it in quiet mode, silent mode.
I live in a man’s land, a girl’s world, and a child’s wild. Children are bewildered since the TV’s all filtered.
If I was a man for a day, I’d watch a football game on Sunday. There’s no rifles in the Bible. Look mom, no hands
Look mom, no man If a man tried to wear my shoes for a day, he couldn’t fit it. He wouldn’t get it. He’d rip my pantyhose because he’s too big for my pantyhose.
They’re too small even for his toes so he’d strip and go naked and skinny dip. If I was a man, I’d give my hand in marriage. I’d help stroll around the baby carriage.
I’d help roll down the car window. I hope you get the memo. That’s why I’m gonna show you a demo. Not a demolition, but an exhibition.
If I was a man for a day, I’d find a place to lay to hit the hay, because it is a man’s land, a girl’s world, and a child’s wild. A children’s wilderness is full of filterness.
When I see a man hasn’t closed the toilet lid, I tell him how could he forget? And I throw a fit in front of the kids.
He screams back, and my eyes start to stream tears of black. And he turns his back and walks away.
If I was a man for a day, I’d hit the hay, find a place to lay, and sit in space with a gazed look on my face, with an amazed look on my face.
If I was a man for a day, I couldn’t take it and I ran away to the lavatory, to my laboratory to find if love is a science, to find out why women are so obedient.
When you say you want a divorce, they aren’t gonna buy it. They’re so in love, they’re not gonna try it. They’re not gonna like it. They’re not gonna hide it.
When they have the choice to tie the knot, why do they tie it? They must really like it, and they’re not gonna hide it. Because they’re so proud and wanna scream out loud.
That’s what love is about. To have the one you love around. It’s not a challenge; it’s not a bout. That’s what love is about.
I’m not gonna take a different route, even if you lay on the couch all day. Even if you don’t tell me I’m gitty; even if you don’t like kitties; even if, instead, you tell me I’m ditsy.
Didn’t the doctor tell all the guys to exercise? Instead of sitting around, help your woman around the house.
Help your spouse catch that mouse. Didn’t the doctor send an advisory against being lazy, watching TV, and then eating.
Instead of beating legs, he needs to beat eggs and make an omelet when he sees a comet and sees shooting stars that are feuding stars.
They’re looting stars that stay around, that lay around, play around on private property, private ground. They linger even though they have no fingers.
They eat honey from bees, because it’s sweet. It’s sweeter than sugar, it’s sweeter than candy. They feel awfully dandy.
It’s awfully handy when they get honey stuck to their fingers when they let honey from bees that’s sweet stick to their feet. They have no stingers. I make all the money when it’s sunny; I do all the painting when it’s raining while you eat all of the bees’ sweet honey.
The bees are buzzing at me; the bees are fussing at me; the bees are cussing at me. If I was a man for a day, I’d make sure to shave, because a woman’s vain.
If I was a woman for a day, I’d know my man would make me safe. If I was a woman for a day, I’d know I’d be safe, because my man can save.
Here my hero came; hear my hero come. I can hear my hero come. He has short nail thumbs; he has short thumb nails.
That doesn’t matter, because a man never fails. They’re always on a woman’s trail. They’re always on a woman’s tail.
A woman is always saved. So if I was a man for a day, I’d be tired and hit the hay now that I know that a woman is okay.