what? no comment on my poem? lol, fine, then here's another:

I feel like sobbing,
but you already know that.
Great lakes of tears
gather in my eye.
And while they gather
my soul is screaming,
as it has been for years,
tormenting me with a banshee's cry.

Ive been in pain
and all alone,
as a jagged hole grows
within my barren heart.
Happiness has become a dream
that's fading with the sun,
and in my eyes i hope it shows
it's you who ripped me apart.

uhck, is it me, or is my poetry taking a turn for the depressing side? O.o.....

This is a poem by Robert Frost. And i agree with him, lol


Some say the world will end in fire;
Some say in ice.
From what I've tasted of desire
I hold with those who favor fire.
But if it had to perish twice,
I think I know enough of hate
To know that for destruction ice
Is also great
And would suffice.

I agree with them both. The facebook one is very true indeed...

one o mf fav poem's are

Flame heart my Claude McKAy

so much i have forgotten in ten years
so much in ten breif years! I have forgot
what time purple apples come to juice
an what month brings the shy forget-me-not
i have forgot the special startling season
of the pimento's flowering and fruiting
what time of year the ground doves broen the feilds
and fill the noonday with their curious fluttering
I have forgetten much, but still remember
the poinsetta's red, blood-red in december.

PS that's the only stanza in the poem i like

who do you think is the best poet of all time?

that's really good!

I dont really know why I wrote this, but here it is : )


Grow Up.

My addiction to suffering is like a moth to the light.

My need to be rebuked is certainly not quite right.

And sometimes I lie awake just to see if the monsters come out at night.

For my hunger for the truth is unquenchable.

My denial of the truth is undesirable.

I'm a human being who is unsustainable.

I am young; soon to be old

Caught in the middle of the social flare

I need to be bold.

Step into the light, see who I'm not, step back into the darkness and I feel distraught.

The shell of my soul is slowly peeling away, revealing more of my true self each and every day.

Life isn't what it seems, it isn't a game to be played

But rather, for the seeker, an adventure to be made.

So as my facade falls away, my addiction to danger is like a fish to the sea.

As I live life, the lessons crash down on me.

As I get older life's wisdom I reap.

For my thirst for knowledge is unquenchable

My acceptance of the truth is unquestionable

I'm a human being who is undetectable.

I am old; soon to be gone

And I have weaved my entire life's song

Soon you will hear it dance in the wind

Finding another unsustainable life ready to begin

merged with existing topic in chat, this page might be a little funky.

Favorite Poet? For me, the Bard. Unfortunately I don't know enough about poetry, I used to hate it a lot.

i LOVE Henry Wadsworth Longfellow.
This is one of his poems:

I HEARD the trailing garments of the Night
Sweep through her marble halls!
I saw her sable skirts all fringed with light
From the celestial walls!

I felt her presence, by its spell of might, 5
Stoop o’er me from above;
The calm, majestic presence of the Night,
As of the one I love.

I heard the sounds of sorrow and delight,
The manifold, soft chimes, 10
That fill the haunted chambers of the Night,
Like some old poet’s rhymes.

From the cool cisterns of the midnight air
My spirit drank repose;
The fountain of perpetual peace flows there,— 15
From those deep cisterns flows.

O holy Night! from thee I learn to bear
What man has borne before!
Thou layest thy finger on the lips of Care,
And they complain no more. 20

Peace! Peace! Orestes-like I breathe this prayer!
Descend with broad-winged flight,
The welcome, the thrice-prayed for, the most fair,
The best-beloved Night!

here are some poems i wrote today in the space of an hour

Hard Question:

What gives a thing its meaning? Its worth?
Does it come into our world
ready-made for its only purpose?
Are all inventions in existance
simply ideas floating in space
along with all the ones that
have yet to be?
Necesity is the mother of invention,
so does necesity gove a thing its worth?
Or is it people?
There is not a thing in this world
that we dont give meaning to.
Our very existance gives meaning to the world.
WE are the meaning of life
because we give life a meaning!

**THere's more, but i'll post those later**

i wrote this like now
WHO AM I?

am i peaceful or warlike
am i love, or hate do i heal or do i cause pain
do make others laugh or cry
am i special or am i another face in the crowd
do i find people or do i lose them
am i even here
or am i somewhere far away
lost...............?

here are the other two i wrote today:

The Tears of Life:
Raindrops are a wonder.
They manage to pull a variety of emotions
from the idle observer.
Beautiful and saddening,
they are the tears of life.
When the water flows
whole ecosystems come to be.
Those dark swirling clouds up above
make way for an emerald spring.
That screaming thunder, terrible in its animosity,
hides the simple sound of children laughing
as they play in the puddles.
And if by some chance the sun should break through,
those raidrops turn to streaks of diamond,
alive with fire,
as they fall to the ground, sparkling with a living glee.
Yes, the raindrops are a wonder.
And so too is the storm itself that gives life,
as is the rainbow that follows with a promise.


Car Crash:
Deaf, Dumb, Blind to the World.
Time seems to slow to a crawl.
Too late did i see that pick up truck,
and too late did he see me.
I cant remember much,
not the color of the car, or the sound of screeching tires,
nor even the feel of flying through the air to land
on the pavement.
All i remember of that stupid day,
is the grill of the truck,
heading towards me.
I was following a friend,
across the highway.
ANd i didnt think to look both ways.
That one small mistake
was all it took.
Life is like that, you know?
Follow someone else, or someTHING else,
and forget to look for your own path,
Life will come along like that truck.
And it will run you over.

In honor of today, I have a poem.... Normally I don't really post these much... but today's special, so.... yeah..


Valentine's Day 2/14/09

Are you still there or are you gone?
Feels like I haven't known you for so long
A lost hope is what you are
A broken dream, a fading scar
And though we can't be 'us' anymore
You're not any farther than you were before
Yet I still see you in my dreams
Always you'll be there, so it seems
And now if I could turn back time
I wouldn't hesitate again to make you mine
I try my hardest to not live in the past
But these memories just fade too fast
Now I hate to interrupt here
But I have something to say
Don't you know what day it is today?
And even if 'we' don't longer exist
You still promised you'd be here for this
You once said that you'd ask me for
My word and hand in being yours
But now this chance you'll miss
As a result of your forced silence
And this shouldn't really matter
But I can't help but say...
"Once again, I'll be alone
This Valentine's Day."

this is from my sig, so i don't know if it counts...

Death Be Not Proud~John Donne

btw, this was like written in the 1600s, so thats why its written kinda strange

Death be not proud, though some have called thee
Mighty and dreadful, for thou art not so;
For those whom thou think'st thou dost overthrow
Die not, poor Death, nor yet canst thou kill me.
From rest and sleep, which but thy pictures be,
Much pleasure; then from thee much more must flow,
And soonest our best men with thee do go,
Rest of their bones, and soul's delivery.
Thou art slave to fate, chance, kings, and desparate men,
And dost with poison, war, and sickness dwell,
And poppy or charms can make us sleep as well,
And better than they stroke; why swell'st thou then?
One short sleep past, we wake eternally,
And death shall be no more; Death, thou shalt die.

well i didn't write mine. someone else did. lol, but i love yours

thanks. i guess something good did come out of the 17th century.


nope, i don't have any

*cough*


There once was a lady of Niger
Who smiled as she rode on a tiger,
They returned from the ride
With the lady inside
And the smile on the face of the tiger


ta-da!

thank-you for posting that. i remember you showed that one to me, but i forgot what it was called and i've been looking for it

i like the poem about the Lady from Niger. it made me smile!

well limericks have a tendency to do that

wow, i just read your poem. it made me want to cry. no joke. drinking and driving. a kid just died around here a year ago cause of that. it was right by my house....the sad part was he almost made it home.....

i've lost people to drunk drivers. it just sucks that people do that

yeah...but seriously wow. that poem had me crying for five minutes, i had to hide it from my dad whenhe walked by. it struck a cord in me that i wasnt even aware of having.

yeah, but its the sad reality of a sad world

a poem i wrote after hearing the news of my one time best friend. he dropped out of school, got an STD (HPV) andstarted smoking crack.

You poor SOB
Look what you’ve become
You’re not that goofy kid I once knew
And loved.
I remember you from when we were kids, your hair was blond,
And your face so gentle and kind.
You poor SOB,
Now I see you, and your hair is black, and your eyes are cold.
Look what you’ve become!
I cry in agony as I see you fall apart.
You had so much promise, and now I see your life turn to ash.
Your lips are pierced with long rings,
And you hold that cigarette of crack
To your lips with the ease
Of long practice.
I am ashamed, and I am sad.
My poor lost little one,
Now grown big and strong,
What has the world done to you,
You poor SOB…

The Raven~Edgar Allen Poe

Once upon a midnight dreary, while I pondered weak and weary,
Over many a quaint and curious volume of forgotten lore,
While I nodded, nearly napping, suddenly there came a tapping,
As of some one gently rapping, rapping at my chamber door.
`'Tis some visitor,' I muttered, `tapping at my chamber door -
Only this, and nothing more.'

Ah, distinctly I remember it was in the bleak December,
And each separate dying ember wrought its ghost upon the floor.
Eagerly I wished the morrow; - vainly I had sought to borrow
From my books surcease of sorrow - sorrow for the lost Lenore -
For the rare and radiant maiden whom the angels named Lenore -
Nameless here for evermore.

And the silken sad uncertain rustling of each purple curtain
Thrilled me - filled me with fantastic terrors never felt before;
So that now, to still the beating of my heart, I stood repeating
`'Tis some visitor entreating entrance at my chamber door -
Some late visitor entreating entrance at my chamber door; -
This it is, and nothing more,'

Presently my soul grew stronger; hesitating then no longer,
`Sir,' said I, `or Madam, truly your forgiveness I implore;
But the fact is I was napping, and so gently you came rapping,
And so faintly you came tapping, tapping at my chamber door,
That I scarce was sure I heard you' - here I opened wide the door; -
Darkness there, and nothing more.

Deep into that darkness peering, long I stood there wondering, fearing,
Doubting, dreaming dreams no mortal ever dared to dream before
But the silence was unbroken, and the darkness gave no token,
And the only word there spoken was the whispered word, `Lenore!'
This I whispered, and an echo murmured back the word, `Lenore!'
Merely this and nothing more.

Back into the chamber turning, all my soul within me burning,
Soon again I heard a tapping somewhat louder than before.
`Surely,' said I, `surely that is something at my window lattice;
Let me see then, what thereat is, and this mystery explore -
Let my heart be still a moment and this mystery explore; -
'Tis the wind and nothing more!'

Open here I flung the shutter, when, with many a flirt and flutter,
In there stepped a stately raven of the saintly days of yore.
Not the least obeisance made he; not a minute stopped or stayed he;
But, with mien of lord or lady, perched above my chamber door -
Perched upon a bust of Pallas just above my chamber door -
Perched, and sat, and nothing more.

Then this ebony bird beguiling my sad fancy into smiling,
By the grave and stern decorum of the countenance it wore,
`Though thy crest be shorn and shaven, thou,' I said, `art sure no craven.
Ghastly grim and ancient raven wandering from the nightly shore -
Tell me what thy lordly name is on the Night's Plutonian shore!'
Quoth the raven, `Nevermore.'

Much I marvelled this ungainly fowl to hear discourse so plainly,
Though its answer little meaning - little relevancy bore;
For we cannot help agreeing that no living human being
Ever yet was blessed with seeing bird above his chamber door -
Bird or beast above the sculptured bust above his chamber door,
With such name as `Nevermore.'

But the raven, sitting lonely on the placid bust, spoke only,
That one word, as if his soul in that one word he did outpour.
Nothing further then he uttered - not a feather then he fluttered -
Till I scarcely more than muttered `Other friends have flown before -
On the morrow he will leave me, as my hopes have flown before.'
Then the bird said, `Nevermore.'

Startled at the stillness broken by reply so aptly spoken,
`Doubtless,' said I, `what it utters is its only stock and store,
Caught from some unhappy master whom unmerciful disaster
Followed fast and followed faster till his songs one burden bore -
Till the dirges of his hope that melancholy burden bore
Of "Never-nevermore."'

But the raven still beguiling all my sad soul into smiling,
Straight I wheeled a cushioned seat in front of bird and bust and door;
Then, upon the velvet sinking, I betook myself to linking
Fancy unto fancy, thinking what this ominous bird of yore -
What this grim, ungainly, ghastly, gaunt, and ominous bird of yore
Meant in croaking `Nevermore.'

This I sat engaged in guessing, but no syllable expressing
To the fowl whose fiery eyes now burned into my bosom's core;
This and more I sat divining, with my head at ease reclining
On the cushion's velvet lining that the lamp-light gloated o'er,
But whose velvet violet lining with the lamp-light gloating o'er,
She shall press, ah, nevermore!

Then, methought, the air grew denser, perfumed from an unseen censer
Swung by Seraphim whose foot-falls tinkled on the tufted floor.
`Wretch,' I cried, `thy God hath lent thee - by these angels he has sent thee
Respite - respite and nepenthe from thy memories of Lenore!
Quaff, oh quaff this kind nepenthe, and forget this lost Lenore!'
Quoth the raven, `Nevermore.'

`Prophet!' said I, `thing of evil! - prophet still, if bird or devil! -
Whether tempter sent, or whether tempest tossed thee here ashore,
Desolate yet all undaunted, on this desert land enchanted -
On this home by horror haunted - tell me truly, I implore -
Is there - is there balm in Gilead? - tell me - tell me, I implore!'
Quoth the raven, `Nevermore.'

`Prophet!' said I, `thing of evil! - prophet still, if bird or devil!
By that Heaven that bends above us - by that God we both adore -
Tell this soul with sorrow laden if, within the distant Aidenn,
It shall clasp a sainted maiden whom the angels named Lenore -
Clasp a rare and radiant maiden, whom the angels named Lenore?'
Quoth the raven, `Nevermore.'

`Be that word our sign of parting, bird or fiend!' I shrieked upstarting -
`Get thee back into the tempest and the Night's Plutonian shore!
Leave no black plume as a token of that lie thy soul hath spoken!
Leave my loneliness unbroken! - quit the bust above my door!
Take thy beak from out my heart, and take thy form from off my door!'
Quoth the raven, `Nevermore.'

And the raven, never flitting, still is sitting, still is sitting
On the pallid bust of Pallas just above my chamber door;
And his eyes have all the seeming of a demon's that is dreaming,
And the lamp-light o'er him streaming throws his shadow on the floor;
And my soul from out that shadow that lies floating on the floor
Shall be lifted - nevermore!

Truly a man after my own heart, sj.
That happens to be my favorite poem... =)

Spongebob is a sponge of many talents! =)

hey, no comments about my poem? lol. btw im loving all of your guys. except for the edgar allen poe one. i dont much care for his poetry.

@kotor: yeah, i like that one too. there's this other one of his that i like, but i forget it now

@Arya: wow, your teacher wrote that?


0mg, this poem to soooooooo much thought:

The falling flower
I saw drift back to the branch
Was a butterfly.


sorry, i just don't see much point to haikus

Short doesn't mean pointless.
And it's very hard to write a good haiku...it takes a lot of thought.

yeah, but it's not like that short little thing carried a message like any other poem can.

The Bells~Edgar Allen Poe

Hear the sledges with the bells -
Silver bells!
What a world of merriment their melody foretells!
How they tinkle, tinkle, tinkle,
In the icy air of night!
While the stars that oversprinkle
All the heavens, seem to twinkle
With a crystalline delight;
Keeping time, time, time,
In a sort of Runic rhyme,
To the tintinnabulation that so musically wells
From the bells, bells, bells, bells,
Bells, bells, bells -
From the jingling and the tinkling of the bells.


II

Hear the mellow wedding bells -
Golden bells!
What a world of happiness their harmony foretells!
Through the balmy air of night
How they ring out their delight! -
From the molten - golden notes,
And all in tune,
What a liquid ditty floats
To the turtle - dove that listens, while she gloats
On the moon!
Oh, from out the sounding cells,
What a gush of euphony voluminously wells!
How it swells!
How it dwells
On the Future! - how it tells
Of the rapture that impels
To the swinging and the ringing
Of the bells, bells, bells -
Of the bells, bells, bells, bells,
Bells, bells, bells -
To the rhyming and the chiming of the bells!


III

Hear the loud alarum bells -
Brazen bells!
What a tale of terror, now, their turbulency tells!
In the startled ear of night
How they scream out their affright!
Too much horrified to speak,
They can only shriek, shriek,
Out of tune,
In a clamorous appealing to the mercy of the fire,
In a mad expostulation with the deaf and frantic fire,
Leaping higher, higher, higher,
With a desperate desire,
And a resolute endeavor
Now - now to sit, or never,
By the side of the pale - faced moon.
Oh, the bells, bells, bells!
What a tale their terror tells
Of Despair!
How they clang, and clash and roar!
What a horror they outpour
On the bosom of the palpitating air!
Yet the ear, it fully knows,
By the twanging,
And the clanging,
How the danger ebbs and flows;
Yet the ear distinctly tells,
In the jangling,
And the wrangling,
How the danger sinks and swells,
By the sinking or the swelling in the anger of the bells -
Of the bells -
Of the bells, bells, bells, bells,
Bells, bells, bells -
In the clamor and the clanging of the bells!


IV

Hear the tolling of the bells -
Iron bells!
What a world of solemn thought their monody compels!
In the silence of the night,
How we shiver with affright
At the melancholy menace of their tone!
For every sound that floats
From the rust within their throats
Is a groan.
And the people - ah, the people -
They that dwell up in the steeple,
All alone,
And who, tolling, tolling, tolling,
In that muffled monotone,
Feel a glory in so rolling
On the human heart a stone -
They are neither man nor woman -
They are neither brute nor human -
They are Ghouls: -
And their king it is who tolls: -
And he rolls, rolls, rolls,
Rolls
A paean from the bells!
And his merry bosom swells
With the paean of the bells!
And he dances, and he yells;
Keeping time, time, time,
In a sort of Runic rhyme,
To the paean of the bells: -
Of the bells:
Keeping time, time, time
In a sort of Runic rhyme,
To the throbbing of the bells -
Of the bells, bells, bells: -
To the sobbing of the bells: -
Keeping time, time, time,
As he knells, knells, knells,
In a happy Runic rhyme,
To the rolling of the bells -
Of the bells, bells, bells -
To the tolling of the bells -
Of the bells, bells, bells, bells,
Bells, bells, bells, -
To the moaning and the groaning of the bells.

i like it. sad poems are a lot better than others

yeah, same here. and sad poems express more emotion

that one's good too. i can relate to that too

i was thinking about being a mother when i wrote this. lol


Floating in a haze of warmth,
I watch you with our child.
You hold her in your arms as if she were
A fragile piece of glass.
Her little arms wave in the air,
And grasp at imaginary stars.
Her cooing laugh
Makes you smile,
And I smile as well,
Watching my baby moon orbiting around my sun.
You two are my world,
And I treasure you with all my heart.

like how? O.o

oh crud, i just realized something. in my post with my last poem it sounded like i was pregnant. im going to correct what i said. i was thinking of what it would be like to be a mother, cause i was thinking about all the stuff my own mom does for me. lol. just needed to fixthat part. ok...

I wrote this poem today after i spent the whole day feeling miserable for no real reason. finally i decided ihad to get these feeligns out or id just keep on sinking. after io wrtoe this i rewrote it once so that it would flow better, then i posted it. i hope you guys think its good. id love your opinions on it.

Misery desires its company
above that of all else.
But in a close second
rises apathy.
And from these two
depression multiplies
like a sickening plague on the soul.
I have caught this Hell-bent disease,
and it paints black my outlook on Life.
I seek solace now
in the darkness of night.
Withdrawn am i, from the world around me.
I lie in wait,
And, oh, how much easier it is to wait.
To sit and stare
at the blank white walls of my mind,
intentionally emptied of harrassing thoughts,
and images.
Now barren is my heart,
where once it was full of life and love.
You must think me a cowered,
and i myself agree.
I am a coward
to hide away and
seal off all forms of expression,
for fear that i shall drown in the surpressed tides of emotion.
But no matter what,
i cant find the courage
to emerge from my self-imposed
Isolation...

its been 24 hours and i have a new poem

When the rain falls
my whole world stops,
and i listen
to those falling drops.
A gentle wind blows,
making trees sway,
and as i breath in
my cares melt away.
A fork of lightening
darts across the sky,
and thunder's clapping
makes my spirit fly.
spring is coming,
the signs are all around,
it's in the bird song
and the puddles on the ground.
The air is buzzing,
new life is on the way,
the grass is greening,
and the sun is warm today.

anyone have any new poems to post? or comments on mine? lol. its been quite a few days.

i love it, its beautiful

aaah why they all are able to wride sutch beautifull poems exept me? hmmm maybe because i am german xD Ps. PLZ more poems about dragons i cant write my own but i love reading all this ^.^

oh wow, guys, youre all creating such great stuff! its impressive to me, and that doesn thappen easily. Keep up the GREAT work! DDD

yeah, i think you shoudl stick with the free verse. its pretty good.

How i feel abotu global warming and what we're doing to this planet.

A Man walks up, saying
“What you gunna do?”
And he’s a real weirdy
From Tim-Buck-TOO.
“Whatcha gunna do” he says once again.
“Whatcha gunna do in this messy dark END?”
And I look at him for a good long while
Before I respond with “Crocodile!”
The man blinks twice “that don’t make no sense.”
And all I say, well, I scream out “FENCE!”
Now the man backs up and his face turns white,
“You’re a crazy fool, now you just aint right!”
So I giggle and I laugh, at the funny old man,
Before I whisper “Well, I have a plan...”
The man comes back and he stares at me,
“What you gunna do?” he asks times three.
“Imma sit right here in my bubble snug,
And close my eyes and say GLUG GLUG!”
I grin at him
And spread my arms wide
“All this is going now, soon it’s all DIED.
At least I’ll have fun
In my last days here,
Can you say the same Mister Scientist, dear?”
“I aint no science man,”
He says to me,
And all I do is shrug ‘n’ say
“might as well be.
Them smart folks there, they don’t do sh**,
They see all the signs,
and they ignore it!”
Now the man nods and he sits with me,
“Youre d**n right, little missy!”
“I knows I am, sir, I knows it well.
The worlds all ending, it’s going to Hell.”

Tragedies come, and then they leave,
Tears of heartbreak, tears of pain,
Think back to the time, but do you believe?
Was it truth or was it all an act?

Do any of you know what that means? <----- thats a questio by the way, not part of the poem

Wow, you're really good!
I wrote all these poems a few years ago for someone who had been having a really hard time.

Can any imagine what life would be like?
If it had not happened, think back or is it lost in the mist?
You want to reverse time, but is it right?
Would your joy now still exist?

I like your poems. =)

The question line in your second to last post in this topic, is that a question or part of the poem?

@crazydragongirl- paints a very pretty picture

@dragon lover- unfortunately you are correct, the enviroment is not a priority. Sure, the economy, protection from terrorists, health care, and what have you are important, but one would hope more attention to be paid to the only planet we've got.

@arya- it's nice...good end

i posted this on the CHWYAB topic...completely random too



spring is here
it makes me sad
summer's coming
oh, this is bad.
fall will be here
before you know
but finnaly comes
winter snow.

All manner of spooky things happen
at night when the lights go out;
And I sit in the dark,
where I have become so comfortable
to cry my melancholy tears.
They flow down my cheeks
in a never ending stream
that runs for years.
When will these times
in purgatory end?
How long must I suffer indecision and confusion?
Is it fair to make me scream
and endless wail for mercy?
MERCY I cry to you!
What cold heart you have to deny me such simple things.
Now spare me the excuses,
I’ve heard them all before.
Am I simply insane then?
Give me proof to the opposite,
I beg you, please.
God save me, I am done.
I hear, and I see, and I feel,
but senses can be fooled,
Humanity is frail,
Trickery can be more readily accepted
than the most obvious of signs to the contrary.
So now comes the question:
Am I a fool, or are the horrors real?

i like it. you have a gift for imagery and rhythmic flow in everything you write. ever think about trying to get them published somewhere?

Congrats crazydragongirl! You do have a talent!

This is a really bad one but I'll post it anyway....

True sorrow,
Define it.
You won't find the answer today or tomorrow,
Bit by bit,
I reached me,
And now I finally see.

And this one I made up ages ago like, 7 years old........

Why be scared when darkness falls?
Its is only then one can be sure,
A bright new day is at the door.

generally i like it. you do a lot of good stuff. hey everyone i took all my poetry and put it on a website i made. its http://yellowwind-writing.wikispaces.com/ just so you know!