Poems

Amazing how the day brings the gambit of emotions
I sing now, the saline of my tears a bit bitter
My voice asks for forgiveness
My heart needs laughter
Rejoice in the daily grind
It is who we are
Laugh at the hurdles, they will fall

__________________

“The gladdest moment in human life, methinks, is a departure into unknown lands.” – Sir Richard Burton

fake a smile
force a laugh
my face is a mask
hollow and false
I become plastic
I no longer know
what real is

(Okay, I really am not this depressed...I found this poem in a notebook from when i was in High School. I just liked it enough to put it up here. It is so....whiny.)

__________________
"You, me, everyone...we are all made of star stuff." - Neil Degrasse Tyson

https://shawnsmovienight.blogspot.com/

Awakening with the light
My mind is still sleeping

Shaking with fright
Why find pills creeping?

Not chemicals or such
My thoughts are sedated

Got typical core crutch
Why I fought the related

My bible holds me up
I fall back asleep

I'm liable, I'm stuck
I fall back asleep

I was just reading this thread and it's amazing how it could go from poetry to an argument about Patton.

Django brought so much to MoFo didn't he?

Great poems 7thson!

the holder of my heart
the keeper of my soul
a wish we'd never part
a hand to always hold

the guardian of my dreams
the maker of my desires
the mender of ripped seams
the producer of my fires

the hero of my nights
the watcher of my days
the one who'll put it right
forever and always

i could go on and on
but i'm running out of rhyme
just remember when i'm gone
and remember for all time

Clay Creature

little girl
little girl won't you pretend with me
i am your mysterious clay creature
beneath the clouds of curiosity
lies an invisible remedy
healings and dealings of a new vitality
walk with me to the edge
i will hold your hand
we will start you off fresh
in a new beginning and time
little girl
little girl let this clay creature in
i am your key to every door
opening you to a fresh start

Fire in your heart----this is my first ever post in here, so be gentle

Your skin is aflame
your heart burns with desire
i warm my hands around your warmth
you turn crimson in the heat
im icy cold
your touch melts me
i reach out and i am burned

stuck in a flame
trying to learn
stuck in a flame
waiting to burn

__________________

Undercoverlovers 100 REDUX

Well here are the lyrics to a song for my band......

The stain on Love

Dont Cross the line
The fire starts
Don't lie upon
the water blead me out
Dont live a lie
ashes form
Don't even die
wither out
Don't slay me down
The wire cuts from my crown
Don't Leave me now
The Heart Beats Out

great lyrics, I wish I could hear the song

Thanks I hope to get them on a site.

I won a poetry contest for this poem two years ago...

Master of a Wicked Ballet

i brand your vile mind with hunger
and the emptiness which i see
i brand also the departing of your tongue
which has attacked me invariably
all those who follow in your steps
are a master of a wicked ballet
unteach me to pretend like you
unlock this vault you seduced me in
darkness may be your winfall
but light lets me see
through the deception which you wear
and the falseness which you sow

Inflammation of the foreskin
Reminds me of your smile
I've had venereal shankroids
For quite a little while

I gave my heart to LSU
That lovely night in June
I long for you my darling
ANd I hope you get well soon

My penile warts, your herpes
Your syphillitic sores.
I'm your venereal infection
How I want you more and more..

Does anyone know where this came from?????

lmfao

That is from Monty Python.

Right you are, Gummo.

I actually used to write a lot of poetry, but I've lost it all or thrown it all out... I wish I had it though...I'd love to share it.

I am hairy -

So many brown poles, confident in their habitat.
I feel foriegn, but I don't worry,
instead I create brown piles, leaving them moist and warm for the inhabitants.
Some that have came, looking similar like the rippling me I see,
have flashed bright, then ran away.
I throw hard stones, toward them.
Hoping one will throw back.
I have never had a stone returned,
I have never had a friend.
I hear them yield, and create sounds.
The sounds I make when I find a swollen creature from my running fountain.
I make the connection that they think of me, the same way I think of this creature.
I will never have a stone returned.
One beast lurks in my home.
Growling constantly while rumaging faster and harder than anything.
It makes me scared, but I avoid this.
I once made the mistake of offering a stone to this beast.
It halted while still travelling pulling the earth behind it's legs.
It reversed it's direction.
From one angle I could see another creature from my home,
laying in the back of this beast, on its side with no character in its eyes,.
I was scared.
I also heard, from a moving organ from within the beast,
"God Damn, Holy Sh*t! Big Foot just threw a rock at my f*cking truck!"
I've tried to mimic these words to the others that come,
they turn and retreat just as quickly as the shiny beast.

By,
PimpDaShizzle V2.0

__________________

Theres some really good stuff here...apart from Djangy's stuff, ive never read anything worse.

The Painted Bride

A tear born in the eye, dies on the lips.
Silhouettes dance on the lucid ceiling,
Grey laughing shadows echoing in a silver room,
Making a song that The Bride cannot sing.
She is alone.
Her dress lay like a cloud upon the sky,
Endless untouched beauty in white ripples and infinite curves,
Spilling onto the dark empty floor, melting into a blank canvas.
Each warm memory gave turn to each warm tear.

A tear born in the eye, lives on the cheek.
A dress so white, ready for colour.
A day so black, ready to end.

How did this happen?
Two strangers alone with their friends, met on the green.
A party they chose to leave, a meeting they chose to make,
A kiss she chose to take.
He held her in his arms that night as though she would hold her heart.
His face, warm and curious, with eyes that did not leave,
And words that kissed her ears.
She danced under the amber sun like a fire dances under the silver moon,
And she loved and laughed with the world, because for the first time,
She knew that the earth loved her back.
That’s the way it was for weeks or months or years.
The Bride was part of the painting.
The painting of her life.
And he was the artist.

A painting of a world full of colour.
A painting of a day that is ruined with a stroke of his brush.
A tear born in the eye, will die on the lips

She did not see his face or eyes in the audience or the crowd.
Frowning face’s smudged here and there stared back at her.
A thousand eyes upon her and none belonged to him.
She would have waited a lifetime, but the faces did not lie.
Lost in a sea of sadness, and a house of pity, The Bride fled.
He was gone.
Her dress now floats as a grey ghost among the gravestones.
Surrounded by the tombs of love, the stone tributes to a happiness now gone,
The Bride wept for her unfinished painting.
A tear born in the eye, lived on the cheek,
Frozen on her lips.

__________________
Pumpkins scream in the DEAD of night!

I write poetry every few days but I won't share most of it. Too personal you see.
Here's one I cracked out just now though:

The White Cliffs
stick up from the ground
jutted and jagged
and precious to no-one

today, they see a coach full of children
boarding a ferry to france
just the same as yesterday
and the day before that
and the day before that
and before that
and before that
and that
and that
and that
and that
and that and that and that
and so on

but
before that
they saw all the tommy's
with their tommy's in their hands
ready to go out and fight jerry
and they saw jerry come with aeroplanes
by god how it hurt when he bombed them
made a cave in their nether reigions
it happened twice

before that
they saw peace among men
one of the only times it had happened
people inventing things and trying them out
people dying
and being born
without cause for doubt

before that the 'french' came
and tried to invade
their ship was mighty
not as mighty as the waves
that it rode on
(which it couldn't move without, thank you very much)
they never have realised, have they?

before that
a small fat man
came and stared at them
and admired their beauty
and then rode away with wife number five
and the rocks didn't particularly care

before that
they saw men run around and shout about god
and how he wanted people dead
for his sake
to please him
and off they did run
on boats again
and never came back
this was the first time
but it had happened many more times since

before that
it was freezing cold
and mamoths were frozen
and the ice ran around
and the sea was calm
until the hills came through and people with them
what a pain in the arse
they didn't know it at the time
but they know it now for sure

before that
not much happened
the land was more interesting than the people
with their tiresome squabbles
and bull****
the land took over
for thousands of years it was quiet

before that
small lizards ran around
they couldn't talk
much different to now
but communicated in their own ways
they squabbled as well

before that
well...
no-one really remembers being born
but they remember cracking away from more rocks
and seperating twenty five miles
that became france many years later
the rocks found it hilarious
so did 'france'
as it was now called
apparently

the rocks don't care about being called england
why don't people just move away
and never return
and kill themselves
the place was much better when they weren't there
if they tried it they would see

don't suppose that'll happen though
the rocks will just wait it out
as always
as they have to
they don't mind
take it a day at a time
these people won't last forever
but it's funny how they all think they will

__________________
"No what happens is, Papa Smurf films the gang bang, and then beats off to the tape later!"

Found this old thread. Felt like reviving it.

Here are a few of mine. Might post some more later:


They've Come Down Like Drizzling Rain

a fond memory
crossed my sleepy mind

raking autumn leaves with my father
making little neat piles
for kicking through
when dad wasn't looking
he fussed
but didn't really mind
because I was happy

a pleasant memory
till I realize
that we're raking up the days
today
like it's a father/son affair

and the days are what I miss most



Compliments To The Cook

Bellowing belch is free
Knock the world off
its rocker
Like the Krakatoa
('cept nobody dies)
Mouth-blasting, gutteral
And then,
all is quiet...




Nice.



Untitled

I wrote this haiku
To hone my haiku writing
But it didn't work

The year is winding down and MoFos have come and gone
and come and gone and gone then came back, but then left
only to stay gone for now, but we all hope will be back
even if they do not want to or cannot.

Thanksgiving is upon us and giving thanks
to those who are my friends here or gone
is why I am writing this poem that is not a poem,
but really is.

Happy Thanksgiving Mofo
Heres to another year here