Share original poems here.

Normally I'm reluctant to share things publicly, but for some reason feel very excited about this:

Blossoming of the Full-Moon Flower

These things have a winding-clock regularity,
dependent on mechanics and attentiveness.
Neglect creates the sonic blur of passing
by auditoriums and conservatory halls
mixing doses of Bach and Scriabin.

If we could plan our excursions, even quarterly,
there would be no more longing between
the great continents of thought, separated
by an inconstant sea.

 

Oh man. I've written so many. OK this one's called "Reflections"

Look at him, look at her
When I look in a mirror
That's what I see
The world's a reflection
There is no perfection
Please don't hurt me

Don't go to war
It only means more
Show me your pink
Let me see how you think
Find the out the injured and hurt
Help them out of the dirt
Show them the way home
And never leave me alone

Me and my band are going to perform that for next year's Pink Day

 

I just told my dad , that I'm glad he doesn't know anything about my personal life .
I guess it'll break his heart when I come home with a husband and not a wife .
I guess I'm living for me and its about time I started ... being and seeing the person I've genuinely wanted .
From as long as I remember ,
I've changed a lot since that darkened November .
I think about it frequently , the lonely nights and confused midday daydreams , I imagined a scene of purity .
but all I got was rejection that left me dejected , its a good thing now that I can look back and reflect .
Now ... To find some well deserved respect .

(Not much a poem , more of a prose)

---------- Post added 3rd Mar 2016 at 09:26 AM ----------

Wow , there are some really beautiful words on here . I'm happy for those who have chose to share some insight into what they're feeling , it doesn't matter if its a few words ... Keep on keeping on !

 

its actually a song i maid with music but here are the lyrics :

your parents got laid so now you are here
but dont be afraid theres nothing to fear
enjoy yourself theres no end in sight
once you get old time for your (scream.wav)
fear the god and obey the law
pay taxes and join society
make room for more anxiety
no end in sight this is good night

lets buy things we do not need
with money we do not have
to impress those fools we do not like
in the end theres always time for (bite.wav)
plasma tvs vibrators chocholatechip toiletpaper
so save up save up save up that money
dont you know a rich mans joke is always funny

(yeah i know its lame but at least it put a smile on my friends face) ps please dont judge me

 

This is based of that 'Roses are red' poem thingy, so it's technically not original but at the same time it is. I love this so much.

Roses are red
John Cena is dank
Get into bed
And go have a wank

 

Note: This is prose poetry, not 'standard' poetry. Also, I'm not sure whether I'm one with it or not yet.

Unfeatherment
My core is shaking, hammering on the door to my heart as I clench my teeth in an act of self-preservation. My conscious mind fears my subconscious, refusing to acknowledge the desolate scenery interspersed with chaotic despair that it engenders.
Ah, here I am again, probing the depths of my being for answers within the stream shadowing the bottom of this ocean.
Nothingness is death and I am wearing a hood. But the hood is white as snow, reflecting all the colors the world wants to see.

 

Unable to think, unable to focus.
My mind corroded, eaten by locusts.

Unable to feel, unable to smile.
My heart eroded, it's been so awhile.

You look at me and you can't see.
I look for me but I'm lost at sea.

 

TW: Suicide-ish? not really but kind of.

Untitled
Shoot me!
Kill me!
I don't mind!

Tranquil
Peaceful
How sublime!

Sleep eternal
Seems quite fine

When every day's a fall behind
The days before
The shattered time

Of youth untouched
No wait, rewind

That's not quite true
You see, I find

That past, present, and future align

An endless story
Of life behind blinds


Where are your manners?
I've already said

That my faith and fortune are already read

What's that you say?
Why, yes, it is true

That subject and object are split into two

I'll be here to wait for the sun's rise anew

And if it does not
Well, that's okay, too

 

Skeletons in the Garage.

(Based on a conversation I had with a friend).

They'll fix your car and fill you with fright, on Halloween night, with all their might.

'Cause it's their right.

It's certainly a sight to see, even in bright light or at a safe height.

I realise this poem is a bit trite, but it's alright.

Yes, it'll be be fine on the night; on Halloween night.

Where only one skeleton will be Queen.

...I apologise for that poem. It's er... a work in progress.... and I realise I rhymed "night" with "night" which is a crime within itself really. What can I say? I ain't no poet, and I certainly know it.

I much prefer my other one. ^

I sense a theme developing here.

 

To step away from the usual Halloween theme for a moment...

Unfiltered World.

Rustle, bang, clap.

Maybe I should go take a nap,

somewhere peaceful and quiet.

No, I really don’t want no riot.

Bang, clunk, thud, what’s that under the rug?

I don’t want a hug.

Don’t come near,

Can’t you hear?

Screech, scrape, clench

These sights and smells are making me wrench.

 

احب الواقع
Obwohl er viel Traurigkeit bringt.
可是悲伤不是
Unhappiness, and unhappiness is not
La tristesse.
मगर
Cuando
Я
Βλέπω
현실,
ខ្ញុំ
Sono
Sự thật
の
Ընկեր։

This translates to the following:
I love reality,
Although it brings much sadness.
But sadness is not
Unhappiness, and unhappiness is not
Sadness.
But
When
I
See
Reality,
I
Am
Truth-
's
Friend.

 

I'm so glad there's a poetry thread! I'm an aspiring poet, so I'm super excited to share my stuff! Here's one of my favorites, written about my best friend:

La Lune et Les Etoiles

Actress up high
future Broadway Star
I watch you up there
the Venus to my Mars.

Inside jokes,
laughs aside,
our shared happiness
fills the sky.

Texts of comfort,
a soothing gaze
enough to make it
past today

Like minded,
you and I,
from friendship rings
to happy sighs

Passions close,
we look afar
you’re the moon
and I’m the stars

Anxious futures
we dream of god,
look above
forever awed.

We’ll make it someday,
me and you,
past those galaxies
to futures new.

We’re here for each other,
accepting and true
There’s no one I’d rather know
than someone like you.

 

Into the depths.

In the surrounding water, being looked down upon by eyes sharp enough to slaughter.

The weight, the weight. It drags me down.

Is it guilt? Is it shame? Or is it the bare sight of that frown?

That look of disgust, the look of pure distaste.

Tell me, do you think I am just one big waste?


In your eyes I used to see mutual respect.


The water, the water. I don’t want to get out. Is it fear? Is it hot in here? No doubt.

That look of disgust, the look of pure distaste.

Could I really be such a waste?

 

The void

​

I’ve been lying since I don’t know when,

Been going along with the lies,
something of which I despise.

I don’t even know where to begin,
Is there any way I can win?
All of this is just putting me in a spin.

I don’t even know why I care,
Tell me, why do I despair?

I've got to get this off my chest.

Why has this got to be so complex, all of this stupid mess?
I’ve got to confess.

How did I get in such a state?
In a world seemingly filled with such hate.
Why can’t I just tell you that I'm not straight?

All of this caused by a simple blunder, now I’m left to wonder.


Note- sorry I've been spamming this thread recently; I just find the whole process quite therapeutic, writing what I feel down in words you know? Sorry again, it must be annoying. :icon_redf

 

I guess I'll give this a go...

They say we're in plain sight
But I am hiding
They say that love is all
But it's not worth finding
They say the futures bright
But it is blinding
They say the sky's the limit
But that is binding...

 

Ashes dropped from her crimson cigarette
A trail of flesh in her wake
One, two, three shot dead
While puffing on that crimson cigarette

 

Another prose poem, rather sketchy.

I drew a picture in two strokes as I walked past the gray asphalt of familarity to look at the great sea of life. I sang a soothing song as I raised a cup of love to my lips. And I wrote a harmonic poem adressing the world in an attempt to understand. Life is a story. It is a story of birth and life, as well as of death; of love as well as of pain. The quality of the script is all down to the writer, they say - however simultaneously, the quality of the writer is down to the script.

 

Uncertainty​

Is it something that we all fear, especially when it’s near?

This feeling of not knowing, possibly never showing, to the eyes of authority, or perhaps something hidden within their eyes.Could it be our greatest demise?

As a species, as a country, as a nation,
as families, as people, as individuals.

Who am I?

Many ask, looking for a task, a challenge of sorts, a better understanding or perhaps as some kind of mental sport.
Though there are several critics that’d just snort, at the idea of sitting around thinking, with some writers' glasses clinking as they’re drinking.

Cheers! Here’s to now and here, hoping that our futures will be crystal clear.

Our fate, only time will tell the future’s weight. So for now, let’s celebrate! Now come on my old mate, don’t be one to hate! For today is the perfect date!

 

Work in progress - will update later!

Bokanovsky

A touch of care, a touch of denial,
a touch of rank and file.
A piece of mind, shouts from behind.
I don't know what to think of
that poisoned word.
"Family".