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  • #16
    Re: Poets?

    Yeah I know what you mean. I've written poetry as well and have played around with the bending of words... but then I always end up turning it into a song anyway.
    Fear is the companion to those who do great things, but never their master.


    • #17
      Re: Poets?

      Trying to publish some of my poems ( ) later.


      • #18
        Re: Poets?

        i wrote poetry through high school but not much after i grew up. my favorite poet is maya angelou. she's phenomenal.


        • #19
          Re: Poets?

          Well, I already posted this on the art thread long ago, but since this is the poem thread..

          Nature, Nature

          Nature nature, what have I done?
          Did I swim in your waters' blue, or pray on the land, heated by the sun?
          Had I no clue of the beauty of the sand

          Did I see the crown, on the top of the oak
          Did I float above, the beluga below my boat

          Was there no animal bigger then the whale
          or a tarantula, smaller than a nail

          Where oh where, did all the trees go
          Like the flowers in the field, I miss them so

          Did I see the blue of the skies above
          or love, hate of friend or foe

          Why is it so?

          Why did I go?

          Now there is no light or animal in sight
          Spider and snake, oh how we hate
          Why is it so? We all must have a mate
          Don't fight, don't brake
          The natural state
          Of our planet's shape

          For it is sacred and beautiful
          not for us to take
          but for something beautiful to make
          for all of us sake

          A place of piece
          A moment to cease
          place for men and mice

          I am not worth for this perfect land
          but I wish I may
          Give the world my hand
          As a sign of my side
          I wish not to fight
          Nor to take pride

          Because I pray
          of forgiveness of my crime
          I will do the time
          just to see the shine
          of the light of my life

          Nature nature, what did I do
          I am humble, for thee I stand
          for my world will crumble if I lose you
          We are what we choose to be, not what we want to be


          • #20
            Re: Poets?

            Here's my attempts:

            Alone in the dark, the black of night
            I wander along, lost and afraid

            But then I think I see, out of the corner of my eye
            A light to guide and show the way

            But then it's gone, and I'm left alone
            Within the darkness of my mind

            Here be another:

            Cursed Fate wrought a path,
            I thought led to Paradise.
            But from that way it turned,
            And instead led to a briar patch.

            And another:

            Turtles dancing in the rain,
            Frogs flying through the air,
            You know you're not right in the head,
            When an elephant's talking to your bed.

            The clowns are riding penguins,
            The gorilla's wearing sequins.
            What the hell is wrong with me,
            Stick around and we will see.

            A bull ran into a rainbow,
            Oprah Winfrey's vomiting snow.
            I think I've got it now,
            It's about the purple cow.

            The cow's singing a ballad,
            While I sit there eating a salad.
            His words hold the clue,
            Pointing to the car's shoe.

            Perhaps its the smell,
            The leprechaun won't tell.
            I sip some tea,
            That's the key.

            The answer's in my eyes,
            They're blueberry pies.
            I scoop them out with a spoon,
            Now I'm a cartoon.

            I know what's going on,
            All the butter is gone.
            My mind is a maze,
            Covered in sugar glaze.

            It's a constant loop,
            Bringing me back to the chicken coop.
            To get the crocodile out of here,
            I must do battle with fear.

            The snake is my jailer,
            The tree is a tailor.
            My mind must not stray,
            As the fox continues to pray.

            The thoughts are more clear,
            I'm pushing back the fear.
            I open my eyes and see,
            That I am free.

            I was so bored when i wrote that^
            I like to bring a little irony to a firefight-Resistance member from Half-Life 2


            • #21
              Re: Poets?

              Later means soon.


              • #22
                Re: Poets?

                Non rhyming poem:

                The axe falls hard,
                slashing stone,
                hewing metal,
                fear writhes in their stomachs,
                as the executioner,
                masked and doubtful,
                raises his axe one last time.

                Rhyming Poem:

                In the darker age,
                the men stand fast,
                against the evil phase,

                for darkness blows within their minds,
                and thought turns to the deeper mines,
                where they imagine their bodies lay,
                while slowly and surely they decay,

                they draw their swords,
                valiantly fight,
                return the evil,
                with such plight,
                not even evil,
                in all it's might,
                thought of such,
                a blacker night.

                And so the lords ride fast,
                against the time,
                in which heads are hewed
                and strung in stone,
                the swords clash and shatter,
                and thoughts turn to other matters,
                the embodiment of evil himself,
                rises from the ashes of his dead shelf,
                and on the brink of Hells Deep,
                he kills those in his way,
                and laughs while he strides away.

                Odd attempts from my stories, and relate to that of unspecified history; I'll do better next time.

                Father Thor...bless this war.


                • #23
                  Re: Poets?

                  Wait just a little longer....