Poetry

I wrote a poem. Do you write poems? Post them here.

Somewhere


Somewhere, my nephew is sleeping
Hands tucked up under chin,
He dreams of dinosaurs
Who speak with Scottish accents
And share juice with him
From a Spider-man cup.

Somewhere, my sister, dozing,
Head filled with worries
About her life,
Her child,
And how she will deal with what tomorrow will bring.
She will try to do her best,
Every day,
For him.

Somewhere, my mother, snoring.
Open mouthed and closed eyed.
Not dreaming.
The streetlight shines through her window,
Sneaks past the blinds,
And lights the little lines around her eyes.
Tomorrow, she will call me
And ask if I'm doing fine.

Right here, just now,
I'm wide awake,
And missing them, each,
In a different way.
Tomorrow, when my mother calls, I will lie
And tell her "I'm doing fine.
I'm eating right,
And sleeping ok,
And I'll see you at Christmas".

I really enjoyed this. Each stanza reads as its own poem, kinda. Your ending is magnificently simple and it makes the whole thing great.

And I could definitely see how you'd cry reading this.

I loved that. Do you have more?

I used to write poems, but I haven't written one in a few years. My old stuff is probably at my mom's place, I don't like to keep it around but can't bring myself to throw it out.

Here's a haiku. I made it up just for this thread.

Open your chest and
Remove the clothes, spread the legs
Of that card table.

well, that's a whole cup of happy, init?

i really like how the first three stanza's play off each other. the last stanza is so depressingly honest, too. and it's adorable (and obvious) that your nephew is your favorite person in the world.

lex wrote:

Here's a haiku. I made it up just for this thread.

Open your chest and
Remove the clothes, spread the legs
Of that card table.

you're ridiculous

I guess you could call it that..

lex wrote:

Here's a haiku. I made it up just for this thread.

Open your chest and
Remove the clothes, spread the legs
Of that card table.

um.

naaaara

lex wrote:

Here's a haiku. I made it up just for this thread.

Open your chest and
Remove the clothes, spread the legs
Of that card table.

Love it! *claps*

I have some more.

I wrote this a few years ago, it's untitled

i use ten words when two will do,
i like to make things complex for you.

speaking to people i've known for years (only one boy really)
who understand me (he never tried to change me).
he shares my love of words, of books, of living in our heads
and only coming up for air or just to take a look
(at all the pretty people that we'll never be).

we stood side by side 3 years ago and played violin on a stage.
i switched to bass and we harmonised.
he lives 150 miles away, but still understands,
through messages and mail.
i shared my thoughts with him, and his were the other half,
a matching pair.
it's like playing childhood card games
with our emotional problems and our self-esteem.

he remembers things that mattered to a 17 year old me.
he remembers jokes and quirks long forgotten or smoothed out in order to fit in.
he never tried to fit in, to make people like him.
i think thats where i went wrong.

we both internalise everything.
something in the water, i expect.
he got away.
i'm still here.
i'll visit him soon and we'll go for coffee and read comics and joke about how it used to be.
and i'll cry on the train home, somewhere he can't see.

he says that he'd love to be me.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

a text message (never sent)


I miss motorways at 3am.
Late nights or early mornings?
Either way, it was always
Dark eyes and pale skin
Constantly between asleep and awake
Dozing, really, against the window.
Nothing mattered, other than the road beneath and the lights above.
I miss the freedom of living out of a backpack,
Of carrying your world on your shoulders.
Of long days shivering on cold concrete
For short nights filled with loud music.
Of queueing and crowding,
Sweating hot or
Freezing cold.
Hotel rooms with starched sheets and scratchy blankets,
Hot showers and fluffly, white towels,
The sounds of the city, so alien and comforting,
Echoing up from the street below.
The rumble of the night life
And then the feeling of coming home,
Of crossing city lines and over,
Into the familiar.

Of being back, and knowing
That you never really left to begin with.

I miss it.

ClockworkRobot wrote:

I wrote a poem. Do you write poems? Post them here.

Somewhere


Somewhere, my nephew is sleeping
Hands tucked up under chin,
He dreams of dinosaurs
Who speak with Scottish accents
And share juice with him
From a Spider-man cup.

Somewhere, my sister, dozing,
Head filled with worries
About her life,
Her child,
And how she will deal with what tomorrow will bring.
She will try to do her best,
Every day,
For him.

Somewhere, my mother, snoring.
Open mouthed and closed eyed.
Not dreaming.
The streetlight shines through her window,
Sneaks past the blinds,
And lights the little lines around her eyes.
Tomorrow, she will call me
And ask if I'm doing fine.

Right here, just now,
I'm wide awake,
And missing them, each,
In a different way.
Tomorrow, when my mother calls, I will lie
And tell her "I'm doing fine.
I'm eating right,
And sleeping ok,
And I'll see you at Christmas".

oh my god. i love this. so much.

Everything posted here is awesome. That's pretty much all I have to say. And I can't wait to read more.

My poetry can be found here:
http://pickinpoemsfromthepoetree.blogspot.com/

It's all mediocre stuff, and everything on there (besides the short story about the crazy girl from Taco Bell) I wrote over 6 months ago. I also have a short film script and two short stories, I believe.

i remember i posted this here a looooong time ago and everyone adored it, so i guess i'll post again for those who haven't read it...

Just Like Me -

We’ll have a kid, of course adopt because we believe in monogamy. We’ll teach it to tie it’s shoes, we’ll teach it to live and to only listen to Death Cab.

I promise.
I promise.

We’ll teach it to dance to anything and to jump on the trampoline.
We’ll teach it to never fall in love and write derogatory songs.
(That’s trial and error for ya.)

We’ll teach it the wrong way to laugh; to smile when it’s not appropriate.
You can name it because, deep down, it’ll love you more.
It’ll be just like me.

i can't find any of my poetry, which is probably for the best. i'm a much better fiction writer.

but my poetry is amazing.

Mark Narra wrote:

i can't find any of my poetry, which is probably for the best. i'm a much better fiction writer.

but my poetry is amazing.

I always wanted to read some of your writing, but I felt weird asking. I guess now would be the time to ask.

hastekilledcreativity wrote:

Mark Narra wrote:

i can't find any of my poetry, which is probably for the best. i'm a much better fiction writer.

but my poetry is amazing.

I always wanted to read some of your writing, but I felt weird asking. I guess now would be the time to ask.

PM me your e-mail address. i'll hook you up.

here's one of the first poems i ever wrote. i got better as i got older, i swear.

ignoring the bestseller of 2004
i scratched the cd in tons of places.
evidence of abuse + neglect were apparent everywhere.
i threw it in the glove compartment when i passed the pilgrim’s hat
+ didn’t take it out until i saw the red apple.
the paint on the surface was scarred + torn.
on my way to her house, i put in something different.
it ended up stuck between a lighter + a set of keys
the ones i used to get into her house while her parents were gone.
it was misshaped from an excessive amount of heat,
the shiny bottom molded + burnt in strange circles.
it had to have fallen right next to the radiator
after i left the bar late + forgot to call you.
the same lyrics repeat, over + over.
+ there’s no scratch remover that’ll ever play it normal again.

THE LOVER'S FACE



She is a beauty that no one can hold,

With eyes like water twenty fathoms deep,

Oh! How I long to touch such skin of gold!

Yet her beauty lies dead, as if in sleep.



Oh! Please wake up my dear, and let death be!

And all of this darkness shall fade away,

My love, like a storm rules over the sea,

Will fight for you and keep evil at bay



[Sighing] The blue in your eyes fades as you still lay

How death smiles, as the end grows so near

Twisting, changing your face from Gold to Gray

A face of stone, the reaper chose, my dear…



In this tomb is where I shall sit and cry

Motionless, waiting for this love to die.



Carolyn C.


I wrote this sonnet in 9th grade for this writing assignment in english. It's all in iambic pentameter.

I'm way too scared to share my poetry. I don't even like to re-read the things that I've written, they make me feel guilty and embarrassed.

Late night/early morning walking sparked inspiration, whoohoo! First thing I've written in months!

Embellished Reconstruction

Take my hand, we'll march down the street
Chant like an ocean and scream our bare ideals
We can disobey the road signs and follow our own maps
To know where you're going you just have to look up
Share your naivete and innocence with the celestial abyss
Let's get lost in the constellations, I only could with you
As Venus & Jupiter sing soft duets...

For eons, we float, we gaze
Acquiring whatever we can, whether it be positive or negative
Electrons urge a sense of security to calm us down
Give a friendly, "hello" to the nebulae, accept their greeting in return
As a group, we make communal progress in our ambitions
Layers of nothingness have never felt so snug
Borders and limits are things of the past, forgotten and ignored

Ecstatic and erratic, each discovery is a gift of culture
Prices have dropped and imaginations have soared
Our restless hearts beat the Valkyrie's theme
Excitement flows through our veins
And readiness radiates from our eyes
Ubiquitous and diverse, we defy the horizontal
We defy the vertical, creating an axis of understanding

Here lies History, she died behind a mask of vanity
Here lies Future, forever forgotten, rarely comprehended

That was beautiful, Daggar.

lauren wrote:

I'm way too scared to share my poetry. I don't even like to re-read the things that I've written, they make me feel guilty and embarrassed.

I was beginning to think I was the only one. Especially the re-reading bit.

I don't write poetry. I think the last time I wrote any was in 10th grade for my English class, when I thought my life sucked a lot more than it did.

So i play in a band called Captain, Were Sinking (the same as my username, lame i know) and i guess this would be the closest thing to poetry becuae i wrote the words first then the music. We are recording an EP in December and when that is done i will post a link to whoever wants to download it. This song is going to be on there. Word is bond. if anyone wants to check us out or dope a line to say hi you can do so at www.myspace.com/captainweresinking. Sorry for the lame self-promotion. This song is called Crushed by Milwaukee's Best

This is forced and i am drowning now
im burried underneath the ground
and i've learned that my face molds into my hands
Everyone here looks too good for me
and if God has no sympapthy
He would say Son your the one thing in this world
that i didnt spend time on. So am i slowly losing my mind?
Im on my knees and im begging please
but Mary says dont be a fool
the hysteria thats inside of me
is turning me into a fool
As a a boy he'd rub his wrist on fences
and realize that he lost his senses
he'd go home screaming in pain
and his mother would clean his cuts.
10 years later and hes had enough
hes on a building looking to jump
he screames if Jesus walked on water
then i can walk on air
as he falls he hears his mother cry
he looks at her then he dies.
so cry young boy becuase Mommas not coming home.

Cenaco wrote:

THE LOVER'S FACE



She is a beauty that no one can hold,

With eyes like water twenty fathoms deep,

Oh! How I long to touch such skin of gold!

Yet her beauty lies dead, as if in sleep.



Oh! Please wake up my dear, and let death be!

And all of this darkness shall fade away,

My love, like a storm rules over the sea,

Will fight for you and keep evil at bay



[Sighing] The blue in your eyes fades as you still lay

How death smiles, as the end grows so near

Twisting, changing your face from Gold to Gray

A face of stone, the reaper chose, my dear…



In this tomb is where I shall sit and cry

Motionless, waiting for this love to die.



Carolyn C.


I wrote this sonnet in 9th grade for this writing assignment in english. It's all in iambic pentameter.

Dude, I love this! You must send me more stuff, Carolyn, I demand it!

captainweresinking wrote:

So i play in a band called Captain, Were Sinking (the same as my username, lame i know) and i guess this would be the closest thing to poetry becuae i wrote the words first then the music. We are recording an EP in December and when that is done i will post a link to whoever wants to download it. This song is going to be on there. Word is bond. if anyone wants to check us out or dope a line to say hi you can do so at www.myspace.com/captainweresinking. Sorry for the lame self-promotion. This song is called Crushed by Milwaukee's Best

This is forced and i am drowning now
im burried underneath the ground
and i've learned that my face molds into my hands
Everyone here looks too good for me
and if God has no sympapthy
He would say Son your the one thing in this world
that i didnt spend time on. So am i slowly losing my mind?
Im on my knees and im begging please
but Mary says dont be a fool
the hysteria thats inside of me
is turning me into a fool
As a a boy he'd rub his wrist on fences
and realize that he lost his senses
he'd go home screaming in pain
and his mother would clean his cuts.
10 years later and hes had enough
hes on a building looking to jump
he screames if Jesus walked on water
then i can walk on air
as he falls he hears his mother cry
he looks at her then he dies.
so cry young boy becuase Mommas not coming home.

oh, fuck yeah! i love your LP