Here are a few poems I've wrote lately. Sorry if they are kind of corny.

The Night Air

The night air is streaming into my room/In these afterhours the old maiden's gray chipped face wanes/over my roof and just outside my window she looms/A thousand nights before this mad little literary lunacy/She shined down on lost scribes with her majesty/For you see, the days are wound in ideas, needs, and desires/But at night they unravel and burst upon the pyre of the pen/the smoke coils from the paper/Your emotions are free and to be constrained, not again

Passion!

"Passion, hot fire!"
Said he, the young sire to be,
hung tonight on his hopes,
fighting back the temptations of glee.

He had the passion
tonight, permeating
from his pores under
the dim, amber light.

"What is this passion?"
You may inquire of him.
'Tis only the passion
of renaissance, the kind
that welds desires and
ideas fully inspired,
by his unexpected
clairvoyance.

His love is dancing
like flames on his
mind, tonight his
self is tortuous, not
at all kind.

His passion is
a siren, drawing
him into oblivion's
den. His hope enters,
but is doubtful
to see light again.

But passion can
birth resolve. His
perceived fate, sends
a call, to the
greatest passion
of them all.

He finds the
passion of self-worth.
He can now walk
this Earth, unashamed
of his burns.

"Passion, hot fire!"
Said the young sire.

Traveller

The rays shine down on my face, wake up child/Morning beckons the traveller out of bed/The dew coats his first steps, soft and mild/He stretches his legs, a long day ahead/His path imitates the tracks/The sun climbs higher, til upon the sky it floats like a raft/His mind wonders as do his feet/He is now in the belly of the forrest, deep/In this mysterious place can he trace his steps back to his home?/Alas not, for his heart like a gypsy is meant to roam/A voice on the path calls him/Over the river he doth swim/The voice still penetrates his senses, as he crosses over the mountain/the voice echoes ever more loudly, here in this valley/He jumps as he hears the voice again from a flora-covered stone wall/he brushes the growth aside to face the surprise of his life/The voice he searched for was his own afterall.


Share any you may have. :)

Aw yeah... Wait til my list is done. I'll have... 20-30 for ya?

Well I just started writing poetry the past week. These 3 are my first ones ever.

I've written about 30 total, 6 really good ones. I'm working on a list of 20-30. Those ones will make it to editing, then become a collection. I'll post the collection.

Heart Break

How can you say I Love You, and not mean it?
Isn't love a sacred thing?
You know in your heart that it's not right
but you put on a smile and you keep on lying
Now you're trapped, in a relationship
giving way less than you take
Saying this, claiming that
When you know your words are fake
We're all guilty of this sin
Playing games where no one wins
Twisted love
Someone is hurting
Someone is crying
and it's Heart Break

How can you make a promise
A Promise that you know you can't keep
You know you're playing yourself, but you still keep up the illusion
How do you even sleep knowing you're a joke?
Caught in a relationship that's built on weak proises and lies
too much damage has been done and you're a devil in disguise
Playing with someone's heart
No regards for the mess you've made
Just remember what you do, always comes back to you
we're all vicitms of this sin
pawns in a game that you can't win
it's true and it's a shame
There's no compromising
Faith in true love is dying
We are all fools...and it's Heart Break

SB 2003

I like your "Passion" poem Alex, I'm glad that you started this thread.


I'm really looking forward to your poetry Apricot, I don't know why. :)

BECAUSE I'M AWESOME?!?!  ;D

Thank you, NullandVoid. :)

Eh, I write oodles of poetry....but not good enough to post.





~Beth

Okay, I put this one on the boards before but I will do it again . . .For some incredible reason, it has the rhythm to 'We didn't light the fire' by Billy Joel.  :)

Vanity

Porsche Parked, mirror marked
Where the owners lips have been
Chest out,  lips pout
Brightest teeth you've ever seen.
Sweet smelled, hair gelled
Toupee's on and firmly held
Smooth skin, looking thin
Cannot breathe 'cause belly's in.

Weight-lifting, weight-shifting
Chemicals pumped in all the same
A good hard jog, in the smog
Gets the weather-bloke the blame.
Piles of miles done on the track
Gave an achey-breaky back
Not too well, sick as hell
Vitamin E's in every cell!

Massage mauling, Avon calling
Interrupting 'Clothes Show'
Fat folding, sauna's scolding
Though the guage is reading 'low'.
Food halved, half starved
Crying as the gateau's carved
Cover sin, let's begin
To see what shape Jane Fonda's in . . .

Self-styled, health o' philed
Cosmetic covered wild-child
'Brows plucked, silicone tucked
Plastic surgeon always dialled.
Wet fingertips, doctor slips
Liposuction vacuum flips
Mind warps, surgeon gawps
At the lovely dolled up corpse.

BECAUSE I'M AWESOME?!?!  ;D


*sniff, sniff* Anybody smell GAS? :)
j/k

You seem like an interesting guy, I checked out your xanga site and it's cool.

Here is a new one. Me and my friend Lindsay wrote this together yesterday afternoon. Its based off of "Of Mice And Men".

All We Want

by Alex and Lindsay

All we want is a little house,
A couple acres of land,
With a few pigs and cows,
Rabbits to tend by hand,
Everyday we'll feed them alfalfa,
We'll have chickens too, along with our rabbit hatch,
We'll have a nice big roof over our heads without a patch,
An' I guess we'll just feerget all er ' troubles,
An' hope Lennie stays sane,
Cause all we live for is that shot o' whiskey,
And a place on Penny Lane.

I wrote the first 7 lines, she wrote the last 4.

What do you guys think? :)

Well I have to go now, I won't be back on until Tuesday afternoon. I want some reviews by then, darnit! ;D

I see how it is. >:(

It's good. :)




~Beth

My collection is about... halfway done? Entering the editing stage, once I do about 7 more works.

Cool!

Very nice poem, Alex.  :)

I wrote this on my refrigerator in magnetic poetry when i was bored the other night:

Dirty/Sweet

Smear your cool lust over my
Milky white skin and
Like a delirious symphony
Take me,
Manipulate me.

Beat the sweet rose.
Then,
With ugly fingers
Show her the place
Where the hot sweat
Like chocolate wax
Would crush dreams
And the bitter breast
Of death
Could never let her
Love him.

Repulsive.
In this
Eternity of a
Whispered moment.

Together.

^WOW. :o

^WOW. :o




do you like it?

Yes, its awesome. :)

Post more if you like.

Thank you, I may well post some more now I know it's ok...

Looking forward to it..

I guess my poetry was just too sappy huh?

Life is as a rose with thorns, with beauty in each petal often times we come apon rough or smooth moments in our life and when we reach those jagged thorns it seems as though it will only dig deeper, but life passes as does pain we shall always be led to an end. ~

Yeah, yeah I know it sucks but I was 11 when I wrote it so give me a break :P

I guess my poetry was just too sappy huh?


No, I liked it. I liked everything posted in here so far. :)

Inner Child (another refrigerator poetry effort)


A mother must produce
A woman goddess.

But the baby girl
is;

Ugly.
Bitter.
Weak.

She cries in her sleep.

Her love is a ghost.
A Lie.

Manipulating the beauty
in her
Cool winter void.

I guess my poetry was just too sappy huh?


Aw, shoot, I never even saw it till now.. sorry.

It was good, but just a bit too... normal for me. I guess I just like my poetry a bit odd.

Here's two of my earlier ones:

A victim of the system
Sick minds twisted
Warped cannot fix them
Can't change-chant rage
Not caged but free to do nothing
Weak link in the food chain, prey
PRAY for me- my soul
A hole that cannot be fixed
KILLED- I died again today.

And an imperfect haiku ( not 575 but 675 ) Called " I am "

Immeasurable bliss
Immersed in tranquility
Immortality

Both of these were over 10 years ago, the first close to 16 years ago.

I liked the first one pretty good, Red Ant.. reminds me of some darker {yet my favorite} works I've already read, but a bit more clear in it's intent.

I liked the first one pretty good, Red Ant.. reminds me of some darker {yet my favorite} works I've already read, but a bit more clear in it's intent.


Thank you. I saw your profile. I wrote MUCH poetry back then but also alot of original songs that were pretty much satanic- not that I worshipped him but just the the way I felt at the time- the first one I wrote at 13 -If you are intersted in the the end of the world I will post it although it is more of a song than a poem ( I think it is good enough that Marilyn Manson would like it ).

Most of my poetry has sadly been lost and I only have perhaps 10 or so left. Also much of my "poetry" was set to some kind of tune to make a song or alternate lyrics. Are you familiar with Nine Inch Nails " Something I Can Never Have" ?

little green man

I looked into the sky
and saw strange lights.
I was told they were silent
black helicopters in the night.
My clock had stopped at half past one.
In my dreams I recalled a light that
equaled the sun.
A little green man let himself into my
mobile home and said greetings, you
have nothing to fear, I'm only here
to watch CNN and to drink your beer.
I said, don't you want me to take you
to my leader?
He then said, don't be such a lark,
I just enjoy trailer parks after dark.
Dam, this little guy sure can drink
so I gave him the nickname kitchen sink.
That was the last thing I remember
before I awoke.
Surrounded by police, then I spoke.
My head was still swimming,
beer cans lay near...
Oh, what an awful pain in my rear!   :D

Most of my poetry has sadly been lost and I only have perhaps 10 or so left. Also much of my "poetry" was set to some kind of tune to make a song or alternate lyrics. Are you familiar with Nine Inch Nails " Something I Can Never Have" ?


I set mine to a tune, as well. I'm not familiar with the song, though.

And I'd love to see the end-of-the-world work.