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Time for Some Poetry {Light to Dark}






What would you like to see more of?
Haiku
0%
 0%  [ 0 ]
Dark Haiku
0%
 0%  [ 0 ]
Imagrey Poetry
0%
 0%  [ 0 ]
Dark Poetry
60%
 60%  [ 3 ]
Other
40%
 40%  [ 2 ]
Total Votes : 5

foumy6

This is a thread where you can post all kinds of poetry. Now personally for me I love dark poetry, haiku, and dark haiku. I am just a real poetry kind of person. So every now and then I will post some of my poems and feel free to post any of your poems only ones that you have written your self! I ask mods to help me with that because i don;t want people getting credit for something they didn't right just say the name of the poem and who its by and why you like it then if someone wants to they can look it up. For example my favorite is The Jabberwocky by Lewis Carroll.
DON'T HATE ME FOR ANY SPELLING ERRORS I CAN'T SPELL AT ALL!
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Fiction-
Now just a whisper
Reminding us of the past
Drifting in the wind
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Untitled-
The moon shines brightly
Its cold warmth drfits down to earth
Only darkness stirs
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Lost-
Trying my hardest to find my way
The path just keeps on changing.
Searching for an answer that was never there
My heart bleeds with hope to find a way
I don;t know how much longer i can make it
The darkness is incasing me.
No escape.
I'm lost.
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
thats all for now Smile
IceCreamTruck
All of the above! Dark Haikus about dark poetry!
__________
Darken poetry
Douse the light forever more
Sunken poetry

Poetry without
light hearted jubilation
blackish Poetry

Aphotic poems
As dark as depth of the sea
caliginous words

....

The End! Smile
ankitdatashn
What is dark poetry? Heard this term for the first time in my life...

And yes its painful to see your creativity getting publishes anywhere else, I saw my poems on someone else's blog and it was quite discouraging! Sad
IceCreamTruck
ankitdatashn wrote:
What is dark poetry? Heard this term for the first time in my life...

And yes its painful to see your creativity getting publishes anywhere else, I saw my poems on someone else's blog and it was quite discouraging! Sad


Take your poems and use certified mail to mail a copy of them to yourself and don't open it. This is called the poor man's copyright because it proves, in court, that the work was your original and any subsequent prints are plagerised copies of your original.

If you certified mail your poems to yourself then if it shows up in a published work some day with someone else's name on it, then you can prove that it was your work as of a certain date, and unless the person who plagerised it has proof that predates your certified mail, then he owes you money if he is in fact making money off your work, and the judge will order him to pay it.

Get your proof... don't make claims otherwise because it's just slander for which you can be counter sued. You can't just walk around hurting people's reputations, and calling people a thief has a tendency to make them upset even if it's true.

PS. You guys can steal the dark haikus above as I released them before I certified mailed them to myself, so it's impossible for me to claim this work now as it's been public for days. I don't care. I just made them to be funny in a dark way! Smile
deanhills
I love poems. And if DH Lawrence is "dark" then I love "dark" poems as well. This is one poem I particularly like of his:
Quote:
Débâcle
THE TREES in trouble because of autumn,
And scarlet berries falling from the bush,
And all the myriad houseless seeds
Loosing hold in the wind’s insistent push

Moan softly with autumnal parturition,
Poor, obscure fruits extruded out of light
Into the world of shadow, carried down
Between the bitter knees of the after-night.

Bushed in an uncouth ardour, coiled at core
With a knot of life that only bliss can unravel,
Fall all the fruits most bitterly into earth
Bitterly into corrosion bitterly travel.

What is it internecine that is locked,
By very fierceness into a quiescence
Within the rage? We shall not know till it burst
Out of corrosion into new florescence.

Nay, but how tortured is the frightful seed
The spark intense within it, all without
Mordant corrosion gnashing and champing hard
For ruin on the naked small redoubt.

Bitter, to fold the issue, and make no sally;
To have the mystery, but not go forth;
To bear, but retaliate nothing, given to save
The spark in storms of corrosion, as seeds from the north.

The sharper, more horrid the pressure, the harder the heart
That saves the blue grain of eternal fire
Within its quick, committed to hold and wait
And suffer unheeding, only forbidden to expire.

Source: Bartleby.com
foumy6
I walk into the hallway
Its walls filled of what I thought was
But as I walk down the hallway
the walls change in to what is

I'm stuck in the middle
I'm at a crossroads
Only I know that looks are deceiving
I know there is no going back

I have to face what lies ahead
I take slow shaky steps
slowly into the reality until now
was just a nightmare trying to break free.

I tried to hold it back
but I failed
Now everyone must face the monster
The monster I have become
------------------------------------------------------------------------------
so what do you think?
foumy6
The smiles tell lies
Looking into their dead eyes
You see the hidden

Where the pain lies
Torturing the innocent
But will you help them

They hold their hands out
Looking for someone to hold
But will you be there

Will you help save them
Or will you just let them fall
Fall into the dark
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------
STARS

Sometimes I stare into he stars at night and wonder
I wonder why I cant be more like them
They always make people happy while I just disappoint
I want to be like them
But I cant
its not who I am
Im just not what everyone wants me to be
I am me
but i guess thats not good enough
I dont know what to do
Im slipping off the edge
Everytime I seem to regain a little footing
someone have to push me and make me stumble
Ive almost stumbled off the edge a few times
but I was caught by something
I ask why cant I just fall
Im sick of it
Sick of it all
I want to fall
but I cant
even the stars can fall
but i cant
I cant do it
I just need a little extra push
Will you push me
help me fall
help me end it
help me be part of the stars.
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Thats all i got for now
IceCreamTruck
foumy6 wrote:

I tried to hold it back
but I failed
Now everyone must face the monster
The monster I have become
------------------------------------------------------------------------------
so what do you think?


You're not a monster! A nice monster maybe! Smile
deanhills
foumy6 wrote:

I tried to hold it back
but I failed
Now everyone must face the monster
The monster I have become
------------------------------------------------------------------------------
so what do you think?
Excellent! My kind of poem. You obviously had looked into the abyss, and then the abyss had become you ..... Very Happy
foumy6
The dark trees loom over my head
hiding my eyes from the light
I'm trapped in the endless abyss of this world
I'm sinking into ground
being consumed by my own life
I'm drowning in my own mistakes
I've made so many its to late to recover
Dont try to save me
I'll fall anyway
Your words just gag my breaths
there is no saving me
Im drowning in the mistakes
your and mine.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Okay for this poem I am using some lyrics from a song

Not that i could, or that I would
Let it burn
under my skin
let it burn
Let The lies and failures burn into me
show the world my mistakes
show them all who I really am
Im done trying to impress you all
Im done
so take a good look
a good lookat me now
I dont care what you think
I am me
even if you dont want me to be
----------------------------------------------------------------
IceCreamTruck
foumy6 wrote:
I am me
even if you dont want me to be


Oh you can be you, but there's still no more writing in red in the forums! Smile lol
foumy6

no poems for today... Sad im kinda having writers block just give it a bit and I'll have more up Smile
IceCreamTruck
I want you to write me a happy poem! I'm having a bad day! Smile
foumy6
I see the sars
I see the moon
I hear the sounds
as the world spins round.
Thats the best I got in thw way of happy poems Im not that good at them lol
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
THE COLD ONES PART 1
The sun is shining down on me
but I feel no warmth
all I feel is the coldess from the ones around me
never giving me any warmth
just cold empty shells freezing me as they walk by
They share the warmth they have with each other
while I just sit here and freeze
If I close my eyes it all goes away
I close my eyes again and again
but now my eyes wont open anymore
All i see is black
I feel cold hands touching me
a few sobs every now and again
but not many
I feel cushoned and safe as I hear the creeking of hinges
them a big slam like someone slamming a door
I have a sinking feeling
It doesnt last for long
because soon after I fall into and endless dream
-------------------------------------------------------------------------
IceCreamTruck
foumy6 wrote:
I see the sars
I see the moon
I hear the sounds
as the world spins round.
[color=orange]Thats the best I got in thw way of happy poems Im not that good at them lol
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------


Genius! Genius! Genius! Smile

Now hit us again! And make it REALLY happy!
foumy6
THE COLD ONES PART 2
in the dream i see the sun
i can feel the sun
its warmth make my skin glow
not to long after
the dream starts to fade
the nightmare begins
I can open my eyes
Still all I can see is black
I lift my arms
I'm elclosed
Not able to break free
The cold ones have trapped me
Trapped me to die
All of a sudden Im laying in a bed
Machinesd buzzing around me
but no one is here
I be for this nightmare to end
it doesnt
instead
one of the cold ones walks into my room
it holds my hand and rubs my arms
somethings different now
I can feel the warmth
it makes my whole body tremble
I've never felt the warmth before
now i never want it to leave
but then I blink and its gone
I'm all alone again trapped in an endless cycle of nightmares
untill I can escape I will never feel the warmth
The coldness is killing me...
or mabey it already hass
foumy6
okay..... I guess I can try another but now i cant sorry right as I was about to someone just ruined my day so sorry no more fo today. Sad
deanhills
OK. Here's one on a "ruined day" .... Very Happy
Quote:
The Light Wraps You
by Pablo Neruda

The light wraps you in its mortal flame.
Abstracted pale mourner, standing that way
against the old propellers of the twighlight
that revolves around you.

Speechless, my friend,
alone in the loneliness of this hour of the dead
and filled with the lives of fire,
pure heir of the ruined day.

A bough of fruit falls from the sun on your dark garment.
The great roots of night
grow suddenly from your soul,
and the things that hide in you come out again
so that a blue and palled people
your newly born, takes nourishment.

Oh magnificent and fecund and magnetic slave
of the circle that moves in turn through black and gold:
rise, lead and possess a creation
so rich in life that its flowers perish
and it is full of sadness.

Source: FamousPoetsandPoems.com
IceCreamTruck
deanhills wrote:
OK. Here's one on a "ruined day" .... Very Happy


You had me at "Abstracted pale mourner"! Smile
Josso
Keats is turning over in his grave.

I want to hear something with beautiful language and seamless flow, not this 21st century braindead nonsense.
(Neruda was OK)

And no I can't write poetry so yeah I'm a hypocrite.
deanhills
Josso wrote:
I want to hear something with beautiful language and seamless flow, not this 21st century braindead nonsense.
How about from Word War I times?
Quote:
The Poet as Hero
by Siegfried Sassoon

You've heard me, scornful, harsh, and discontented,
Mocking and loathing War: you've asked me why
Of my old, silly sweetness I've repented--
My ecstasies changed to an ugly cry.

You are aware that once I sought the Grail,
Riding in armour bright, serene and strong;
And it was told that through my infant wail
There rose immortal semblances of song.

But now I've said good-bye to Galahad,
And am no more the knight of dreams and show:
For lust and senseless hatred make me glad,
And my killed friends are with me where I go.
Wound for red wound I burn to smite their wrongs;
And there is absolution in my songs.

Source: FamousPoetsandPoems
IceCreamTruck
deanhills wrote:
Josso wrote:
I want to hear something with beautiful language and seamless flow, not this 21st century braindead nonsense.
How about from Word War I times?
Quote:
The Poet as Hero
by Siegfried Sassoon

You've heard me, scornful, harsh, and discontented,
Mocking and loathing War: you've asked me why
Of my old, silly sweetness I've repented--
My ecstasies changed to an ugly cry.

You are aware that once I sought the Grail,
Riding in armour bright, serene and strong;
And it was told that through my infant wail
There rose immortal semblances of song.

But now I've said good-bye to Galahad,
And am no more the knight of dreams and show:
For lust and senseless hatred make me glad,
And my killed friends are with me where I go.
Wound for red wound I burn to smite their wrongs;
And there is absolution in my songs.

Source: FamousPoetsandPoems


I like this. It's a coming of age, but experienced by an adult in time of war. I feel it embodies the resentment we all feel when we are forced to fight! Maybe I'm in tune with it because I have felt this perspective very much yesterday and today as I've been put on the defensive in a few different threads all at once, or it's busy work distracting me long enough that I just got to them all at the same time.

Thanks for posting, Dean. I'm usually not in touch with most poets, but this poem is quite full of raw emotion, and it shines through the words, plus there are some good vocab words in it which illustrate the writer indeed has a good grasp of the language, and that too shines through.

Anyone want to venture a guess of what "Grail" he is speaking? Do you guys think he's really questing for the Holy Grail, or is this metaphor for something else? I think one might substitue the word "prise" as in " You are aware that I once sought [a prize]"

I think "Galahad" needs the purity definition here. Galahad being one of Arthur's Knights, poetically in line with seeking the Grail, as Galahad is one of three knights who quested for and found the Holy Grail, but as I was reading about him I stumbled over the fact that he represents purity and it fits the text really well (wikipedia -- "Galahad"). It makes sense to me as "you are aware that I once sought a prize, but I have said goodbye to my former purity". What do you guys think?
deanhills
IceCreamTruck wrote:
I like this. It's a coming of age, but experienced by an adult in time of war. I feel it embodies the resentment we all feel when we are forced to fight! Maybe I'm in tune with it because I have felt this perspective very much yesterday and today as I've been put on the defensive in a few different threads all at once, or it's busy work distracting me long enough that I just got to them all at the same time.
I can relate completely to this. And I wonder whether that happens when one is posting as heavily as you and I are. The more involved one gets the more vulnerable one becomes. Anyway, I love your Hijack thread. That is one of the best ones yet. I don't think many people can claim threads that have run into 6 Web pages and usually in a very short time as well. Very Happy

IceCreamTruck wrote:
Thanks for posting, Dean. I'm usually not in touch with most poets, but this poem is quite full of raw emotion, and it shines through the words, plus there are some good vocab words in it which illustrate the writer indeed has a good grasp of the language, and that too shines through.
I'm not that much into the literary arts myself, just now and then I hit into something that resonates with me, and this Siegfried Sassoon really did that for me. An amazing soul. Another guy is DH Lawrence, although he is probably a bit on the cynical side. I also like German poets. As the Germans tend to not embellish words, they say it as it is. I particularly like Goethe very much as he is a poet with lots of passion. I'm not into the English classics that much, the first time I enjoyed Shakespeare was when Hamlet was made into a movie, and the actor in it was Kenneth Branagh. That guy really was one of the greatest Shakespeare actors ever. I'm not a Shakespeare fan at all, but he got my attention 100% through that movie. Here's a good scene in that movie.


IceCreamTruck wrote:
Anyone want to venture a guess of what "Grail" he is speaking? Do you guys think he's really questing for the Holy Grail, or is this metaphor for something else? I think one might substitue the word "prise" as in " You are aware that I once sought [a prize]"
I would agree with you that it has been used as a metaphor for fighting for freedom more than religion as such. If you checked through his other poems it is a recurring theme.

IceCreamTruck wrote:
I think "Galahad" needs the purity definition here. Galahad being one of Arthur's Knights, poetically in line with seeking the Grail, as Galahad is one of three knights who quested for and found the Holy Grail, but as I was reading about him I stumbled over the fact that he represents purity and it fits the text really well (wikipedia -- "Galahad"). It makes sense to me as "you are aware that I once sought a prize, but I have said goodbye to my former purity". What do you guys think?
I have not thought about it at all until you mentioned it. You're really going deep into it, and yes, that makes great sense to me. You've just taught me something. Very Happy
Bikerman
The 'grail' is used as part of the allusion to Galahad. What Sassoon is saying is that he was once the young idealist in search of glory (as Galahad in search of the grail), but he has now seen the reality of war and has turned more bestial - his 'joy' now not in the doing of good and noble deeds, but instead in extracting bloody revenge for his dead comrades.

Personally I don't particularly like this poem. It may be because this marked his re-discovery of the sonnet structure, which I have never been too keen on, but I think it is mostly because it is fairly obvious and trite to my eyes. I think that the pupil outshone the master when it comes to WW1 poetry - namely Wilf Owen (who Sassoon mentored).
Quote:

Dulce et Decorum Est
Bent double, like old beggars under sacks,
Knock-kneed, coughing like hags, we cursed through sludge,
Till on the haunting flares we turned our backs
And towards our distant rest began to trudge.
Men marched asleep. Many had lost their boots
But limped on, blood-shod. All went lame; all blind;
Drunk with fatigue; deaf even to the hoots
Of tired, outstripped Five-Nines that dropped behind.
Gas! Gas! Quick, boys! – An ecstasy of fumbling,
Fitting the clumsy helmets just in time;
But someone still was yelling out and stumbling,
And flound'ring like a man in fire or lime . . .
Dim, through the misty panes and thick green light,
As under a green sea, I saw him drowning.
In all my dreams, before my helpless sight,
He plunges at me, guttering, choking, drowning.
If in some smothering dreams you too could pace
Behind the wagon that we flung him in,
And watch the white eyes writhing in his face,
His hanging face, like a devil's sick of sin;
If you could hear, at every jolt, the blood
Come gargling from the froth-corrupted lungs,
Obscene as cancer, bitter as the cud
Of vile, incurable sores on innocent tongues,
My friend, you would not tell with such high zest
To children ardent for some desperate glory,
The old Lie; Dulce et Decorum est
Pro patria mori.
deanhills
Bikerman wrote:
Personally I don't particularly like this poem. It may be because this marked his re-discovery of the sonnet structure, which I have never been too keen on, but I think it is mostly because it is fairly obvious and trite to my eyes.
You probably could say that about that particularly poem, but it would be unkind to judge all his poems the same. Particularly since they are not all the same.

Bikerman wrote:
I think that the pupil outshone the master when it comes to WW1 poetry - namely Wilf Owen (who Sassoon mentored).
I'm completely unfamiliar with him, however now that I've read his poem, I'll definitely look him up. Great poem for sure, thanks for posting it.

This is another poem by Sassoon that I particularly like:
Quote:
Absolution by Siegfried Sassoon
The anguish of the earth absolves our eyes
Till beauty shines in all that we can see.
War is our scourge; yet war has made us wise,
And, fighting for our freedom, we are free.

Horror of wounds and anger at the foe,
And loss of things desired; all these must pass.
We are the happy legion, for we know
Time's but a golden wind that shakes the grass.

There was an hour when we were loth to part
From life we longed to share no less than others.
Now, having claimed this heritage of heart,
What need we more, my comrades and my brothers?

Source: FamousPoetsandPoems.com
IceCreamTruck
These are good poems guys, but sadly I don't have much more time than to read them at the moment. Two of my favorite frihosters discussing poetry with me... priceless! Smile

@Bikerman ... I like your poem as a good example of a war poem, horrific in it's own right. I've written dark poems, and happy poems, but all seem rather frivolous next to this work of putting rhythm and rhyme to the experience of surviving a gas attack, but watching one of your compatriots fail to get to his gas mask on time. I've told you guys I have an active imagination, which often makes me draw back in horror at the things my mind comes up with, and I would find it very hard to pull these witnessed images up in my mind to perform the job of a poet. To me, to be a poet is to live the flavor of the moment, and I guess what I'm trying to say is how does one begin to live the flavor of a gas attack and people dying. I would have to do some serious soul searching before attempting a work like this or I fear the ideas that would go through my mind, thus encouraged, would be hard to reconcile.

@Deanhills ... I like your poem too as another good Sassoon example as it illustrates a few points I made about the first peom beautifully. This one doesn't have quite the same example of mastery of vocab and the language, doesn't have quite the same epic impact as the first, but is good in it's own right. Where it does shine in simplicity of describing the human condition:

Quote:

War is our scourge; yet war has made us wise,
And, fighting for our freedom, we are free.


How true! How true! Does this thread have to be about epic, horrible, war poems though? Smile

My favorite so far is the first poem Dean put up, and I have to explain why, because I think the poem Bikerman listed is on par with Dean's listing, but with Galahad, the grail, and other poetic metaphor I found the loss of innocents (and revenge as Bikerman mentioned) goes down a little easier and is there to be the discoverable mystery of the words, but Bikerman's listing did not so obscure the horrible reality of the situation. Deanhills poem was kind of like swallowing a easier pill that has good descoverable after affect, and Bikerman's was like swallowing the holy hand grenade of Antioch! Goes down rough and there's explosive realization of the impact of what you've just read at the end.

Side note: A good poem, like a good painting, can be measured by how long the experience of first encountering it is entertaining.
deanhills
IceCreamTruck wrote:
Side note: A good poem, like a good painting, can be measured by how long the experience of first encountering it is entertaining.
Right! Beauty being in the eye of the beholder. Looks as though we're wearing more or less the same spectacles .... Except you seem to have a gift for appreciating the greater detail. Like Ocalhoun with the pony shows. Every now and then I have to go back to a show as I inevitably missed some of the details. Ocalhoun knows each pony by name, even the most obscure one that may only have been referred to once in the whole of the series. I'm sure one could ask him questions going back to Frihost in 2006, and he'd remember most of the regular characters without having to look them up. Very Happy
Bikerman
IceCreamTruck wrote:
These are good poems guys, but sadly I don't have much more time than to read them at the moment. Two of my favorite frihosters discussing poetry with me... priceless! Smile

@Bikerman ... I like your poem as a good example of a war poem, horrific in it's own right. I've written dark poems, and happy poems, but all seem rather frivolous next to this work of putting rhythm and rhyme to the experience of surviving a gas attack, but watching one of your compatriots fail to get to his gas mask on time. I've told you guys I have an active imagination, which often makes me draw back in horror at the things my mind comes up with, and I would find it very hard to pull these witnessed images up in my mind to perform the job of a poet. To me, to be a poet is to live the flavor of the moment, and I guess what I'm trying to say is how does one begin to live the flavor of a gas attack and people dying. I would have to do some serious soul searching before attempting a work like this or I fear the ideas that would go through my mind, thus encouraged, would be hard to reconcile.
Well, the author - Wilfred Owen - is generally considered to be the best of the first world war poets. He writes directly from experience. It is his job, as a poet, to invoke the feelings he must have felt in the reader - even if that reader has never been in such a situation. I find his poem effective in doing so. I would never claim to be able to empathise with those who were in that bloody and ultimately futile war, but poets like Owen take me as close as I can get..

If you want something lighter, then here's Belloc's celebration of the current month of May:
Quote:
This is the laughing-eyed amongst them all:
My lady's month. A season of young things.
She rules the light with harmony, and brings
The year's first green upon the beeches tall.
How often, where long creepers wind and fall
Through the deep woods in noonday wanderings,
I've heard the month, when she to echo sings,
I've heard the month make merry madrigal.

How often, bosomed in the breathing strong
Of mosses and young flowerets, have I lain
And watched the clouds, and caught the sheltered song -
Which it were more than life to hear again -
Of those small birds that pipe it all day long
Not far from Marly by the memoried Seine.
deanhills
I thought Sassoon was also writing directly from the exact same war? WW1?

Here is a list of 16 poets of WWI who got commemorated in Westminster Abbey.

Robert Graves was probably one of the most famous poets of them all. I still prefer Siegfried Sassoon however. You can check Graves' poems out at FamousPoetsandPoems. This is one example of his works:
Quote:
To an Ungentle Critic by Robert Graves
The great sun sinks behind the town
Through a red mist of Volnay wine....
But what’s the use of setting down
That glorious blaze behind the town?
You’ll only skip the page, you’ll look
For newer pictures in this book;
You’ve read of sunsets rich as mine.

A fresh wind fills the evening air
With horrid crying of night birds....
But what reads new or curious there
When cold winds fly across the air?
You’ll only frown; you’ll turn the page,
But find no glimpse of your “New Age
Of Poetry” in my worn-out words.

Must winds that cut like blades of steel
And sunsets swimming in Volnay,
The holiest, cruellest pains I feel,
Die stillborn, because old men squeal
For something new: “Write something new:
We’ve read this poem—that one too,
And twelve more like ’em yesterday”?

No, no! my chicken, I shall scrawl
Just what I fancy as I strike it,
Fairies and Fusiliers, and all
Old broken knock-kneed thought will crawl
Across my verse in the classic way.
And, sir, be careful what you say;
There are old-fashioned folk still like it.
Bikerman
Sassoon WAS writing during WW1 - so was Wilfred Owen. They met, and Sassoon mentored Owen - that is why I said the pupil outshone the master
_AVG_
What exactly would you define as "Dark Poetry"? Is it just poetry filled with dark imagery and themes or something else? Further, could you please describe what you mean by the "Haiku" format? (and hence also the "Dark Haiku")
Utopia GFR
I used to publish poetry back in the old days on http://www.poetry.com/ (I'm surprised they decided to make the website a forum).

This poem is called "Eyes", it describes the way I felt when I decided to dye my hair in several colours (amongst which, blonde and red because a friend told me I didn't have the guts to do so when I was in college) Laughing

Eyes

"Man ambling along some scorched-earth path;
Unwavering streams of colourful retinae;
Those bees keep on buzzing out of their houses;
Holding twee conversations on that queer fish;
His red mane glowing in the cold light of the morning;
Relentlessly swinging like a horse's tail;
Feels the soiled social smell torching his mind;
A symbolic red stain dappled the ground;
He laughs;
Stacks of likewise monkeys bypassing his way;
Are nothing but features contorted with hartred;
Soon, this torture will end;
Their souls swept along by the wind;
No more thundering eyeballs and jittery laughs;
Only but his very own paradise in Utopia;
That man is me".


Utopia.
deanhills
Utopia GFR wrote:

Eyes

"Man ambling along some scorched-earth path;
Unwavering streams of colourful retinae;
Those bees keep on buzzing out of their houses;
Holding twee conversations on that queer fish;
His red mane glowing in the cold light of the morning;
Relentlessly swinging like a horse's tail;
Feels the soiled social smell torching his mind;
A symbolic red stain dappled the ground;
He laughs;
Stacks of likewise monkeys bypassing his way;
Are nothing but features contorted with hartred;
Soon, this torture will end;
Their souls swept along by the wind;
No more thundering eyeballs and jittery laughs;
Only but his very own paradise in Utopia;
That man is me".


Utopia.
Never thought that dyeing hair could inspire a great poem. Well done Utopia! Applause
Utopia GFR
Thanks! Smile
foumy6
Well the school year is back, so so am I! Now I have a lot of work to do to get to positive points again so this may take a bit Razz so here are some quick poems.

Looking down the staircase
it doesnt seem so hard
you start you decent
counting the steps out loud
Carefully moving down a step at a time

The bottom seems closer
but you stop and think
is the bottom really where you should be?
or should you turn back now
Time seems to stand still

You put out your foot to take the next slip
something goes wrong and you find your self falling
falling down further and further
till you hit the bottom
now the question is
will you get back up
make your way back to the top?

Think quickly time is ticking.
------------------------------------------------------
Sorry if it's not very good I kind of put a message in there if you can find it well thats all for now folks!
sudipbanerjee
what is dark poetry? never heard of it
foumy6
Just poems that typically have darker out looks and don't have happy rainbows all over them. THey may also just show a view of something from a more dark prospective and things like that.
foumy6
Well looks like I have some free time so I am going to put up a couple more that I wrote.

The book sits there
Dust collecting on the soft cover
You know what the pages hold
but you don't want to look
you know the truth
but you try to deny it

The brittle yellow pages
the secrets that they hold
You never want anyone to see
but you cant keep hiding it
you need to let it out.

You open the book
and let you eyes rome over the page
Your past
its hurts you just to see it
all that you have done
the good
and the bad

you start to think
what if they knew?
would they still be there?
would they still see you for you?
you don't know
but you need to make the decision

Let it go or
keep it trapped inside forever.
foumy6
yea sorry that it's not very good My poetry has kinda been all over the place lately I've been having trouble sticking to one idea in poem and kind of end up just rambling on and on so sorry lol.
Ghost Rider103
Thread moved to the literature section.
foumy6
The moment was there
but i failed to grasp it
i failed at what i needed most
------------------------------------------------
that was just a very short thing I wrote after something that happened to me Sad
------------------------------------------------

Forever
that's what you said to me
but it was just a lie
you promised that you would be here forever
that you would never leave me
but you did

Your gone now
and i'm all alone
I still remember as the room filled up with light
as we said our last goodbyes

I still remember the look in your eyes
telling me that the time has come
you gone now
and I'm lost

lost in this place
with no one's hand to hold
this place is changing
its not the same anymore
a piece is missing
and the piece is you
--------------------------------------------------------
again sorry if its not that good just been depressed lately :/
foumy6
Ghost Rider103 wrote:
Thread moved to the literature section.

Ummm after looking at forum descriptions shouldn't this go in personal art forum I mean it says right in the description poems.... just saying...
foumy6
Everything was nice
until you came along

the peace was there
but you killed it

this isnt the first time
your a repeat offender

Im so sick of it now
when will you just disappear

no one would miss you
no one would care

I hate when your around
and Im not the only one

just take the hint
and go whee whee whee all the way home little piggy.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Sorry if you find this meant I have been VERY upset with a few people lately. Sad
foumy6
Gonna resurrect this topic because I have a creative writing class this semester to I have a few I can add here.
Okay for this assignment we had to pick a poem from a packet we were givin, analyse it, and then write a poem that exactly follows the same meter rhyme, and syllables and things like that.
So this is the poem that I chose.
Quote:

Resumé
BY DOROTHY PARKER
Razors pain you;
Rivers are damp;
Acids stain you;
And drugs cause cramp.
Guns aren’t lawful;
Nooses give;
Gas smells awful;
You might as well live.


So this is my copy cat poem.

Inside
The shadows hide;
The pain inside;
Scars left behind;
New ones begin.
Let it all out;
Fight tonight;
Take a reroute;
And all will be right.
foumy6
We also had another assignment to try writing just a poem about who we are, so this was my attempt.
I have it formatted different on paper which kinda helps add to it.

What lies inside
Some trees stand alone
somestandtogether
alone does not mean lonely
within is ALL
Some things strange and others not
Some things dark and others light
Yet the tree stands alone.*

Peer inside the tree;
Only to find DARKNESS.
The secrets hidden in a plea.
Behind an extreme HARDNESS.
Only few try to see;
The tree is not HEARTLESS;
But only lost in an internal sea.

Reaching its branches to the moon
and its roots into HELL.

Cut down the tree;
let it be free;
find the hidden history.
See the stories, the lie inside**;
Get past what you see.
Looks deceive.
Inside its a beautiful ;
tree.

Full of light,
happiness,
joy,
contentment.

Inside the tree is not alone
But it stands their touching everyone's lives.
---------------------------------------------------------------------
*On paper I have a poor excuse for simile that if I could I would go back and take it out.
** Originally meant to say "see the stories that lie inside" but I didn't notice until retyping it now Mad but I think it sorta still works if add a comma in their.
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