User Poetry

[Namekuseijin]

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splotch of yellow
hangs high in the deep blue -
sun-smeared noon



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[Dr. Drib]

With apologies to Marcus365:

How Did You Get To Be Such A Pain In The Buttocks?

How did you get to be such a pain in the buttocks?

When I first met you, I thought you rocked.

But I was wrong.

You’re like a bag of wet cement,

from your head right down to your hairy feet.

If you were a song, I would have to gong* you,

your words so doggone wrong,

I would leave my seat in utter defeat,

maybe walk the streets and pick out a beat

Tell me:

How did you get to be such a pain the buttocks?

When you first appeared, I thought you were weird,

With that little moustache and a multi-colored beard.

Your little loveable gap-teeth like an open airport.



So tell me, my large, lovable hirsute bird:

How did you get to be such a pain in the buttocks?





*A reference to the Gong Show from the 1970s, rather than to any violence perpetrated or focused upon any and/or all individuals who might actually be gonged.

[mrmarlowe]

Thought to post a poem of mine here (already posted on allpoetry.com) if it is not against the rules.


The glamour of a string of pearls,
Or the fine lines of a tree birch,
What are they to a man who's lost his eyes?
They are all but same!

Seen a blind fella on the street?
Why would you trouble yourself to describe,
The effervescence of the nature around?
When you think it'd be so lame?

Do you honestly think the blind is any less than you?
Can you feel your way up to nickels and dimes?
Enjoy music the way they do?
Do you still think being blind is such a shame?

Does the olive that give peace have eyes?
Can the sunshine and rainwater that nourish you,
See?
Or the cave salamander of slender frame?

If powers make a man,
If eyes are not the most powerful sense we have,
Then the blind have far greater powers to claim,
Being a blind is no shame!

[crich70]

Interesting. MR does in fact have a thread just for members to post their poetry work in. I've posted some myself in the past.

[Dr. Drib]

Thread moved to the correct thread that already exists for this sort of thing.


Don
(Moderator)

[Marcus365]

lol...

[Namekuseijin]

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a star airs tonight
breathing air, birthing an air -
live, Bach lives!



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[HarryT]

Doesn't anyone write real poetry any more? You know, the kind with a meter, that scans properly? All the things that are posted here seem to be normal text with line breaks in funny places...

Or, in other words:

I'd like in this forum to see
Poems that scan properly.
Is this art of writing dead
Or can't people be botherèd?

[Marcus365]

lol genius

[mrmarlowe]

Hello, are you thinking something?
Are you anxious?
Are you looking out of the window?
Are you suffering from the exam fever?

The proctor enters the room
Mumbling a few swear words,
You learn something new, you're excited now
More than you ever were when reading your books.

That to and fro pacing of the proctor
Makes your heart beat and thump,
Your hands move, you look at the window
But your feet tie you back to the room.

There is no use of these futile exercises
There is no use even passing one of these,
You will remain the same as you're now
Until life becomes your teacher.

When I was a child and the exam season approached
My two hands shook, as if cold,
My head ached and my heart pounded endlessly
I thought I had a fever!

When I was a child like you
I used to be immersed in a sea of books,
Now I feel I'd learned nothing back then
And I know so much more now.

I know so much more about life as I lived it
I know more than from those petty school books,
I can explain it, you will not understand
That knowledge is not to be found in your textbooks.

How can they teach you anything anyway?
By cooping you into those four walls,
When your mind is flowing out of the window
Looking out for a quick escape?

[Namekuseijin]

Originally Posted by HarryT

Doesn't anyone write real poetry any more? You know, the kind with a meter, that scans properly?

that's a very narrow definition of poetry to me. Though I mostly agree: poetry is mostly how you write it out, not what you write. You can write about the same things poeticaly or in everyday pedestrian language. No amount of breaking common everyday phrasings in verses will make it poetry. On the other hand, no amount of verses will make good poetry when there's no poetry in it.

That said, being a minimalist, I do write mostly haiku, in the usual 5-7-5 meter as far as I can tell. No, they're not a simple statement broken in 3 (strictly metric) verses: there's an idea, the exposition, and a cut to a contrasting conclusion. Haiku depict a scene, they're not a statement. Plus, I usually mix in some ambiguous wordplay in mine for people who, like me, enjoy puzzles.

in portuguese I did write quite a few sonnets in strict 10-meter, heroic petrarchan format. I'm not sure I can do that yet in english...

[HarryT]

Originally Posted by Namekuseijin

in portuguese I did write quite a few sonnets in strict 10-meter, heroic petrarchan format. I'm not sure I can do that yet in english...

Writing poetry in a foreign language can be an excellent way to learn it. I remember the challenge of trying to write Latin verse in iambic pentameter. Gave me a huge amount of respect for people like Virgil who could just reel it off by the thousands of lines . (Although of course it wasn't a foreign language for him - but I certainly couldn't do the same in English!)

[WT Sharpe]

Originally Posted by HarryT

Writing poetry in a foreign language can be an excellent way to learn it. I remember the challenge of trying to write Latin verse in iambic pentameter. Gave me a huge amount of respect for people like Virgil who could just reel it off by the thousands of lines . (Although of course it wasn't a foreign language for him - but I certainly couldn't do the same in English!)

I have it on good authority that Virgil couldn't reel it off easily in English, either.

[mrmarlowe]

Today I feel like a new me arisen from old rubble
Of all the evil and abuse I underwent;
The fast lanes of life's changed me,
I am living life anew, going through the motions

When the going got tough and tougher,
I said,
'I will turn me now,
Around.'

The trollings, the bashings
On Twitter or Facebook;
Shake me no more,
This is the new me, I can't be bothered.

My ex-half posted pictures online
Of our most sacred intimacy;
To get even with me, or so I thought,
The person I'd loved once, can be so heartless?

When the going got tough and tougher,
I said,
'I will turn me now,
Around.'

That spouse who never cared
That person who left me for someone new
What care did that half have for me then?
Why should I care about that half now?

I write few lines now at night
Got a new day job to do - a fight;
But I know I am happier now,
Got my old feelings back - for somebody new.


Like the old banyan trunk, mature and strong
That cannot be moved or bent;
I too have gotten thick-skinned now, my bones stronger,
You can't criticize me no more, move me to tears!

I am no more vulnerable as I was
No more I wear my emotions on my face;
Life is all about moving on, I've learned,
This is the new me - the old me is dead now.

When the going gets tough again,
I said,
'I will turn me now,
Around.'

[jandrew]

The Edge of Winter

To reach out for a second chance;
to intersect a single ray.
To breathe its fire and dance its dance
while embers crack and splinter.

To stand before the fading light;
a shadow cast in cooling gray.
To lie awake in bed each night
and touch the edge of winter.