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Thread: do you write poetry?

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    lump's Avatar
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    Default do you write poetry?

    i want to read it.

    but even if you're shy about posting it i'm still curious if you do.

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    So fluffeh. Cuddly McFluffles's Avatar
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    On rare occasion, yes; I prefer to write fiction. The only recent poetry is from a (rather frustrating) class I took last semester. Oh, and an Intro to Creative Writing course I enjoyed. I'll dig some up later.
    Johari/Nohari

    "Tell someone you love them today, because life is short; shout it at them in German, because life is also terrifying."

    Fruit, the fluffy kitty.

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    I do. I do Creative Writing as part of my degree too. I can't post anything up right now as I'm not sure which bits I'm using for my assignment and they could end up failing me for plagarizing myself. Could maybe PM something.

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    suffocated in a bubble of time
    i can fly but it's the same so why
    the graveyard glowed and the ghost appeared
    blood splatter on a homoerotic chest

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    You could write gay poems for Salvation Army, BnD.

    Anyhow, I wrote this myself. It's called "Oh Socionics!"

    I surrender myself to thee,
    and offer my soul for the highest fee
    So when time comes I'm going count to three,
    stripped of any illusions that have so far befallen me

    Night and day, day and night,
    I promise to
    Work, sing and write just for your delight
    stop I won't
    To spray, feast and shite even in the absence of light
    Last edited by Absurd; 03-26-2013 at 08:03 PM.

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    ■■■■■■ Radio's Avatar
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    i wrote some gayass shit when i was 13-14.

     
    Days that passed away,
    Leaving behind the grey dust,
    I follow with my eyes closed,
    With a memory torch in one hand and apology in other.

    Sometimes I wish I could run away,
    From all the torment,
    And plunge into the darkness forever,
    With no return.

    I wish I knew what I want better,
    Is your hand enough to be my guide?
    I could trip again and then break.
    Would you be there to hold me?

    My eyes never open,
    But I don't want them to either.
    I want to cuddle that bear forever,
    And hide behind.

    My regret for being loathesome,
    Is that I hid it.
    And I would live with it
    Ever and ever, until I die.

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    Mwahaha.

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    Darn Socks Director Abbie's Avatar
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    ESTj
    1w2 sp/so 1-2-6
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    Squishy's Older Sister

    Johari Nohari

    Quote Originally Posted by Ritella View Post
    Over here, we'll put up with (almost) all of your crap. You just have to use the secret phrase: "I don't value it. It's related to <insert random element here>, which is not in my quadra."
    Quote Originally Posted by Aquagraph View Post
    Abbie is so boring and rigid it's awesome instead of boring and rigid. She seems so practical and down-to-the-ground.

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    killer wolf lemontrees's Avatar
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    I finished a masters program in writing poetry...

    ^useless member of society

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    boom boom boom blackburry's Avatar
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    lol @Vois you remind me of my reaction to hearing Natalie Portman rap and say "I'm gonna sit on your fucking face and take a shit".


    ~~*-SHOCK-*~~

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    i write illegitimate haiku by accident on occasion.

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    Quote Originally Posted by Vois View Post
    sometimes.... sometimes i want to take a shit on a fucking face. ya know? ya know what a mean maaaannnn?

    in the morning, I wake
    in the lunchtime, I eat
    in the nighttime, I shit on your face
    amen
    I think I LOVE you.

    FUNNIEST PERSON UP IN This Piece.

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    Onion, onion
    Why so big?
    If I were an onion,
    I wouldn't be so freakin big!
    Alas, I'm no onion
    Nor fruit, no fig
    I'm all of these
    A big fat PIG...

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    move over shel silverstein, @polikujm in da house.

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    Quote Originally Posted by Vois View Post
    oh god oh god how to respond to compliments... umm... um..
    THANK YOU
    (the trick is--





    that you don't.)


    keeps it cool.
    it's like "did she notice?" "did she see my compliment?"

    (no. she didn't.

    she's too cool.

    to notice.
    such trivialities.)


    too cool.

    for all uh dat.

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    *hiccup*

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    Roses are red
    Violets are blue
    Every time I see you
    I think i'm gonna spew

  18. #18
    Exits, pursued by a bear. Animal's Avatar
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    I am bored, so I'll share some stuff. I haven't written a full poem in years, just fragments. Been meaning to get back to it. Here's some of my old poems:
     
    Karma

    The trunk that held the sari silks, the umber
    aromas of clove and cumin, the woolen suits, the
    coconut oil, the photos and the Gita,
    held also the screams of Chuknagar. A shrieking
    music. Gunmetal chords like landmines loomed
    amongst the gold and red and sepia.
    The shining Pam-Am jet that flew my parents’ Bangla Desh to here,
    brought with them the war that had devoured their childhoods and a country
    in a nine months bloody utero. Though December was an eager midwife,

    that war has never ended.

    Dhaka’s cantonments reside now in your skulls;
    Rahman’s leaden munitions now
    within your homes and cars and bills and fears and sons.
    We never choose the wars that we inherit.
    All uniformed in blood and flesh like yours,
    I was conscripted witless in the womb
    to duke it out some days amongst Ravana
    in your head all sticky, swarthy, raping, murdering Sitas by the hundreds.
    My mother’s cries were but pariahs / lepers all unraveling.

    That war has never ended

    for questions do not like to be disturbed
    once comfortably discarded in the past.
    I aroused its rage in innocence: one entitled, boyish turn of phrase
    and all your worries woke within you.
    Words in my father’s piercing basso staggered towards me like amputee veterans:
    lonely, long abandoned thoughts / memory’s orphans / chaos.

    That war has never ended

    because your enemies live in me too. They
    are my childhood angers / teenage bitternesses.
    Their vengeful residue can never settle
    until it’s murdered you or me or all.
    Some sabotage is here at school
    or there within my bread or sex or voice. We’re halfway there
    unless the bitter karma’s swallowed by someone.

    We wear our wars like adjectives.
    Our childhood landscapes offer us no shelter.
    The air between grows battled scarred and blistered
    like the air of Bangladesh. Though
    Dhaka or Dachau makes no difference: all wars

    return home some time.
    There to be suffered or swallowed.


    Iggy and the Stooges' Raw Power Assaults My Loneliness

    Next thing I know, you've got me from behind;
    your ragged harmonies undress the world.
    I feel your coiled anatomy unwind;
    its careful chaos, breath by breath, unfurled.

    Your concentrated verve dilutes the night
    and mellows out these antisocial streets.
    I cannot shake it off, try as I might,
    the noncommittal swagger of your beats.

    This barricade of skin cannot resist
    the chords that want to finger through my veins;
    the voltage of the ravenous, insistent
    shock you send resounding though my brains.


    Henri Matisse. Dance (I). Paris, Hôtel Biron, early 1909. (this is an ekphrastic poem; see the painting here)

    They dance because they want to know
    the truth that nakedness sets free: the pulse
    that sets our limbs aglow / that groping
    for affinity. That groping for some friend or foe
    consumes all our extremities. Consumed
    is what we are, although, not always

    this flow of our intimacy that channels
    through our hands like heat begins the
    dance we dance because it is our torso,
    arms, and feet. It is our torso, arms, and feet /
    is what we are, and is not free: not free
    to dance alone for see: she reaches out her hand
    to meet his hand, for we are incomplete

    if we cannot communicate
    that pulse that sets our limbs aglow,
    that nakedness can make us know, or else
    surrender to the weight our loneliness may well create.
    A fuse through which no current flows /
    a word through which no speaking goes is
    why we dance the dance we dance.
    "How could we forget those ancient myths that stand at the beginning of all races, the myths about dragons that at the last moment are transformed into princesses? Perhaps all the dragons in our lives are princesses who are only waiting to see us act, just once, with beauty and courage. Perhaps everything that frightens us is, in its deepest essence, something helpless that wants our love."
    -- Rainer Maria Rilke, Letters to a Young Poet

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    boom boom boom blackburry's Avatar
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    I must say dolphin, you've an awesome way with words.

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    I submitted this to a FedEx write-in contest, but some guy who worked there stole it and turned it into a song.


    Ex gonna give it to ya
    Don't wait for you to get it on your own
    Ex gonna deliver to ya
    Knock knock, open up the door, it's real
    Wit the non-stop, pop pop and stainless steel.
    You can do anything with a bayonet except sit on it.

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    here i am

    trynna write a poem

    maybe i should drink a moet

    what am i doing

    am i trying to rap

    it shall not go down like dat

    i mean that

    for this is not a rap

    a poem she said

    a poem she said
    unholy water sanguine addiction

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    Sure. Helps release stress.
    You need chaos in your soul to give birth to a dancing star. - Friedrich Nietzsche.

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    "Information without energy is useless" Nowisthetime's Avatar
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    Poem to @lungs

    Lungs, your lungs are not my lungs
    they are filled with air that you inhale
    not me
    I was thinking of your old
    name
    it was LAGHLAGH (I think)
    It was so
    beautiful
    Like something from an ancient
    consciousness
    or from the unconscious
    It also reminded me
    of Icelandic phonetics
    (cool in it's own way)
    but
    that's not important now
    I'm flying away - goodbye -
    on my wings
    not lungs
    Byebye!

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    i never saw "laghlagh" that way - i really like that take on it <3

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    boom boom boom blackburry's Avatar
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    Laff-Laff.

    I think an egypitan name would be cool.

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    Inspired by the fart and poop discussion in chatbox this morning...

    Here I sit, I'm at loss
    Trying to shit out taco sauce
    And when it comes
    I hope and pray
    It doesn't blow
    my asshole away.

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    Smile

    Quote Originally Posted by Finale View Post
    Inspired by the fart and poop discussion in chatbox this morning...

    Here I sit, I'm at loss
    Trying to shit out taco sauce
    And when it comes
    I hope and pray
    It doesn't blow
    my asshole away.
    You are really fucking weird, you know that?

    DDDDDOOOOORRRRRRKKKKKK! (I drank too much coffee.)

    K, I have one.....

    Here I sit, brokenhearted
    Tried to shit but only farted
    Here I sit, in a trance
    Tried to fart but shit my pants
    Last edited by jet city woman; 04-24-2013 at 07:10 PM.

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    Hmm, Edgar Allan Poe would hire you two when at loss of creativity.

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