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Poetry

Discussion in 'Chit Chat' started by ilovecats, Feb 22, 2013.

  1. 4ever Hearth

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    Ouch, Heartbreakingly Beautiful :tears:
     
  2. mickey1101

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    Wow I really like it your amazing ...

    ---------- Post added 23rd Feb 2013 at 06:33 PM ----------

    I wrote only this poem to go with a drawing of mine I usually write stories...

    A scream but a whisper, a shout but a squeak,
    Unheard am I over the din of meaningless speech.
    Am I heard? Am I seen?
    No, hidden am I for I approached I cannot bare it.
    My silence, now falls on deaf ears,
    I drown as uncertainty consumes me.
    I sink slowly, to a silent death.
    Can no one save me?
    -M

    After I wrote this I was empty like I spilled myself on the page...
     
  3. jadakiss97

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    I write poetry.
     
  4. ilovecats

    ilovecats Guest

    Would you like to share a poem?
     
  5. greatwhale

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    Here's a quote from the great Jack London on writing:

    From “Getting Into Print,” 1903
    By Jack London

    "Don’t dash off a six-thousand-word story before breakfast. Don’t write too much. Concentrate your sweat on one story, rather than dissipate it over a dozen. Don’t loaf and invite inspiration; light out after it with a club, and if you don’t get it you will none the less get something that looks remarkably like it. Set yourself a “stint,” [London wrote 1,000 words nearly every day of his adult life] and see that you do that “stint” each day; you will have more words to your credit at the end of the year.

    Study the tricks of the writers who have arrived. They have mastered the tools with which you are cutting your fingers. They are doing things, and their work bears the internal evidence of how it is done. Don’t wait for some good Samaritan to tell you, but dig it out for yourself.

    See that your pores are open and your digestion is good. That is, I am confident, the most important rule of all.

    Keep a notebook. Travel with it, eat with it, sleep with it. Slap into it every stray thought that flutters up into your brain. Cheap paper is less perishable than gray matter, and lead pencil markings endure longer than memory.

    And work. Spell it in capital letters. WORK. WORK all the time. Find out about this earth, this universe; this force and matter, and the spirit that glimmers up through force and matter from the maggot to Godhead. And by all this I mean WORK for a philosophy of life. It does not hurt how wrong your philosophy of life may be, so long as you have one and have it well.

    The three great things are: GOOD HEALTH; WORK; and a PHILOSOPHY OF LIFE. I may add, nay, must add, a fourth—SINCERITY. Without this, the other three are without avail; with it you may cleave to greatness and sit among the giants."
     
  6. ilovecats

    ilovecats Guest

    Heres another poem I wrote awhile ago.

    “Life has its troubles

    When the stress doubles

    And you feel like you are dying

    And you just stop trying

    You feel your heart rip in two

    And the tears fall too

    For these horrors are so real

    But you can always heal

    Hope is always there

    Even when life is unfair

    Just breathe in and out

    And get rid of your doubt

    Keep on going strong

    You’ve held on so long

    It’s possible to mend

    And be happy in the end”
     
  7. Oddish

    Oddish Guest

    I write music but not necessarily poetry.
    Maybe I could post a few of my own lyrics? Hum. Here we go. (Also, ilovecats, you have a good sense of rhyme and rhythm within your words, I'm impressed.)

    "Don't listen to the Manic Street Preachers.
    Go out and look at the flowers instead.
    Call your mother.
    Pet a cat.

    Especially don't listen to the Manic Street Preachers non-stop for a week.
    Keep your hands off "The Holy Bible".
    Avoid reading the lyrics.
    Don't do it."

    I have an odd style of combining things from my daily life into lyrics. Not necessarily logical or contain rhyme but they have a rhythm and pattern I follow.

    I should mention that I love "The Albatross" by Charles Baudelaire. One of my favourite poems.