Poetry thread

[Nick Krygier]

Being a fan of poetry I decided to make a thread where people can share their work and discuss it if anybody wants to. Feel free to post anything you got, I love to read poetry of all styles

TWIDDLING OUR THUMBS
Deciding in my mind
Should I be writing or deciding
What to do with my life
And how to stop the strife that degrades the quality of life
of thousands of people
who have yet to see
that the answer isn't with you
Its all starts and ends with me
The things that you see
Aren't all they appear to be
you see the closest of friends can turn sour in an hour
if the mind and the body aren't focused on thee
questions we ask not the outcomes you seem
to be wallowing about while you pout in your doubt
placing blame on many things day in and day out
why you are unhappy and why you are sad
why you are lonely and why you are mad
refusing to place blame on the prize yet unrealized
I'm talking about you, I'm talking my
view of the world that involves living in the real life
where men act like men and stand up for whats right
where they fight fuck polite the time is tonight
stop feeling contrite stop hiding in the light
thats one thing I don't get when did it become a threat
to live life break a sweat and get a little wet
I'm tired of seeing fake faces with fake smiles and fake greetings
I'd rather see you foaming from the mouth then simply repeating
What you say everyday its become so cliche
Everywhere I go its simply becoming a buffet
of hey nice to meet you then wait for them to walk away
then turn to your friends and display without dismay
your true feelings for that person after knowing them less then a day
thats where the strife comes if you haven't realized it yet
don't you ever forget that
were no better then bums to society twiddling our thumbs
to the beat of imaginary drums in the slums
if we look in all the wrong places for meaning and answers
it is almost as stupid as prancer blaming vixen for giving him cancer
remember one thing and remember it well
you are always in control don't dwell if they tell
you that you are the way you are there's no changing its set in stone
yet unknown to them while they moan and they groan alone
it is known don't postpone the search for yourself
change is a process I've always said
start right now
In your head

THE PERFECT DATE
Beauty is simplicity
sitting with a friend, staring at the sky
cracking jokes, watching the clouds roll by
eating animal crackers, then playing with the box
pretending to be in a circus where not only people but the lion talks
your not a little kid anymore you said, I replied look at your socks
ones red, and ones blue
and I said now how old are you?
Your smile was enough, it told me you just realized
That a laugh is a laugh, it doesn't matter how it materialized
It still feels the same, no matter where it came from
An emotion is an emotion, your supposed to want to feel them
I then laid back and watched the sun, it was hastily departing
Sitting in silence for minutes, Laying on my chest I could feel you breathing
Not worried about my problems, the future or the past
The moment was almost over, the light was fading fast
The time was now or never, I looked you in the eye
I told you how I felt, and then I told you why
I want to be a better person, how do you see past all my flaws
You don't care where I came from, what I did and who I was
All that matters is who I am, be here now is what you say
Yesterday and tomorrow is of no concern, all we're guaranteed is today
You kissed me and time stood still, I'll remember it forever
I was honest with my feelings, I couldn't ask for anything better
You showed me how to be honest, from me to you was simply relaxing
Life's a give and take, there's not more that you can be asking
From the moments in life where it's simple, and everything is in the open
Simply being with one another, watching the sun hover above the ocean
Don't underestimate some things in life just because they seem dull and boring
There's beauty in everything my friend, just close your eyes and start exploring
The sun finally set, it was dark and getting late
I couldn't have pictured it more perfectly, a beautiful and simple date

[Bob]

sure why not. this is probably the only good poem i've written.. and it's pretty good

Dreamless Slumber
Yet another night of
Dreamless slumber
When I will dream again
Numen could only wonder
I would imagine
That every night's repose will
Remain dreamless until
The worthy soul comes my way
Tomorrow, or be it another day
She may be found atop a mountain
Or juxtapose sinuous streams
Companionship's rapture I will reattain
De novo, slumber shall be inundated with dreams

[Daniel Becerra]

Jack, I like this

I was actually about to ask Pablo to add a Poetry section
It's a good section to enhance your writing skills
and hell, try reading one of your poems to a girl (not dedicated to her of course) and she'll love that intelligence

Here is mine

Tribute

There are children standing here,
Arms out and stretched into the sky,
Tears drying on their face.
He has been here.

Brothers lie in shallow graves.
Fathers lost without a trace.
A nation blind to their disgrace,
Since he's been here.

Houses burnt beyond repair.
The smell of death is in the air.
A woman weeping in despair says,
He has been here.

Fire is lighting up the sky.
It’s another family’s time to die.
A child afraid to even cry out says,
He has been here.

Soldiers line the victims up,
They follow orders while they scream to the sky
But no one asks the question why.
He has been here.

Old men kneel to accept their fate.
Wives and daughters cut and raped.
A generation drenched in hate.
Says, he has been here.

The children are terrified and hungry
They are so ill, their spits get bloody
And this just makes their mothers angry
But the soldiers say, let the kids get muddy

They walk away and they choose who is next
It’s time for fun, let’s see who’s up
The youngest kid is picked, the mom cries
A shot is heard and the body falls dead.

And there is no bravery, no bravery in their eyes;
No one will feel right to tell it, no matter how many times
The town is now a cemetery of stories
Buried in thumb stones to soon be called memories

Yeah, they are just doing their job
And they better do it right or the top man will yell
And with their life they may pay
The people’s lives mean that man’s satisfaction
And the soldiers get nothing, but a fraction

Now I ask myself, how could this be?
Soldier brother, how did you feel?
You saw that mother cry,
That girl ashamed because she was raped
That old man accept his fate
And a young boy just fell dead
You answer that you were following orders
That you did what you were told to do

But who are you to decide
Over another person’s life
I don’t care what the boss says
That’s why morals are first

You see, in this world, there is right and wrong
And you were wrong, you shouldn’t have given up
The lives of many to make your people proud
We are no one to decide over other people’s lives
And morals should always be before orders.
May the ones who died in wars, genocides and holocaust
Rest in peace.

[Joe G.]

Romeo, I think you showed me that poem another time a long while ago. I love that poem. One of my favorites. It reminds me of my favorite poem Charge of the Light Brigade by Alfred, Lord Tennyson.

Let's see, I haven't wrote many poems worthy of mention, but I like one that I wrote about 5 years ago and still seems to fit my life now.

Redundant Days

Like a record player,
Spinning round and round,
Repeating the very same tune,
Recurrent lifestyle plagues me,
The record scratches and dulls as life passes by,
Deja vous'd tone,
Deja vous'd life,
Routine and continuous while I watch,
As redundancy haunts my past,
And my future fades before me.


Not bad for a 15 year old, I guess. I have no idea what I was so dramatic about. Haha

[uziel]

two short ones I wrote and remember at this moment:

Dust
As I look for the book that explains my story
to draw another piece of my life
The dust makes the book feel like centuries ago
And yet I only recently died

Reality
Wondering in this diseased world.
Do you see what I see.
Or is my view just a reflection of my dreams.
And does that make my dreams real.
Or is it MY reality.
Why can't they see it.
Traped in their illusions of reality, they are blinded.
Who awakes me from the dream that fills my eyes with uncertainties.
Or is it up to me to find the gap and silently slip through.

[Ian Smith]

A song of mine, more of a spoken word verse.

America Land of the Slaves
Shits fucked up when the homeless starve, while NASA gets billions to send probes to Mars.
Murder rates sore leaving families scarred, and kids' role models are doped-up stars.
Sex, money, and pleasure distract the view, then the rest is distorted through corporate news.
WW3 begins behind a veil of lies, just listen to Big Brother ,"give up your liberties to protect our skies!"
Sounds logical right? Ask the President about it..oh wait he's dodging the mic.
Keep the population busy, dumb, and distracted, completely oblivious to what the P.A.T.R.I.O.T. Act did.
However, the revolution lives and grows, through the cracks and creases we'll rip the system to pieces, revise the thesis, and survive to speak it.

[Holden]

Ok, this one isn't mine but if your the artistic type you could roll this one into a "poem that reminds me of you". Easily the poem can be denotatively compared to the woman you are currently pursuing (Granted this is curtailed more for the solid, confident, secure woman versus the somber, quiet type).

William Blake. 1757–1827

The Tiger

TIGER, tiger, burning bright
In the forests of the night,
What immortal hand or eye
Could frame thy fearful symmetry?

In what distant deeps or skies 5
Burnt the fire of thine eyes?
On what wings dare he aspire?
What the hand dare seize the fire?

And what shoulder and what art
Could twist the sinews of thy heart? 10
And when thy heart began to beat,
What dread hand and what dread feet?

What the hammer? what the chain?
In what furnace was thy brain?
What the anvil? What dread grasp 15
Dare its deadly terrors clasp?

When the stars threw down their spears,
And water'd heaven with their tears,
Did He smile His work to see?
Did He who made the lamb make thee? 20

Tiger, tiger, burning bright
In the forests of the night,
What immortal hand or eye
Dare frame thy fearful symmetry?

[maser.caster]

awwww.... some awesome stuff in this thread.

here's one of mine, a simple love poem, I'm a hopeless romantic

I find this poem reads beautifully in company with the music of Sigur Ros - Untitled #4 (The Nothing Song)

You Tube

__________________________________________________ _____________________

Give me..
your hand
Let me..
take you
to the place where
I dance without wings
where you can hear
a voice -
ringing in your head :
Telling you a story
of the light that falls
from remains of the night,
that which wakes with you
that which
takes you
to the place where
I laugh with my heart
where you can touch
a dream -
flying...
flying around you
singing you the joy
that it gets carrying you
pampering you
leading you
to the place where
I breathe an elevated self
where you can see
the smile -
playing in my eyes
painting you a picture
of sweet caress,
of silent sparkles
that illuminate the way
and bring you
to the place where
I will hold you
close to me
and whisper love
and ask you to walk
hand in hand
to the days towering
over my dreams -
Come, my darling dear
Walk to me..

[Fortescue]

i tried to fit in
it made me thin
it gave me many aches
i took some gin
and aspirin
to merge with all the fakes

i tried to be cool
got kicked out of school
then worked hard to get back in
i followed the trends
and made many friends
and lost them when i didn't give in

i slept with some girls
and straightened my curls
i smoked with a bully or two
needless to say
if i go on this way
i'll end up an idiot too

[Action]

I like short poems.

To escape
Break
The greenhouse walls.


That's a shitty one of mine. Here is one from the master (Ezra Pound)

In a Station of the Metro
The apparition of these faces in the crowd
Petals on a wet, black bough.

[Fortescue]

Originally Posted by Action

That's a shitty one of mine. Here is one from the master (Ezra Pound)

In a Station of the Metro
The apparition of these faces in the crowd
Petals on a wet, black bough.

Nice.

[Daniel Becerra]

I ran into this little short sweet poem. The author is unknown. If you hate my voice, that's fine, but value the poem for what it is. A great inspiration.

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[A New Me]

Haha awesome :]
The Poem was quite inspiring, why did you have to read it? lol

[tonatiuh8]

HE DID IT cause EVERYONE knows that DANIEL has a sexy ass voice.

[negsta]

http://www.iamthewitness.com/Risks.html

Read it, now. And never forget it.

[A New Me]

Great Thread! Daniel, I was thinking about your post on laughter, so I looked some poems on it. And this is the best one I found. Enjoy guys.

Sonnet - Laughter

If we can laugh, our heart-aches disappear!
Our minds become freed off tensions and stress;
If we make others laugh, they lose their fear,
And become dear, starting to us caress.

Laughter is good for both the young and old;
Laughter can turn a foe into a friend;
Laughter can help forget our woes, be bold;
Laughter can bring to grief, an early end.

Laughter is life’s most precious medicine;
Laughter is soothing balm for all our ills;
Laughter is euphoric much more than wine,
Causing no harm to one or increase bills.

Then laugh and be merry whenever you can,
For, that’s the way to live life better, man

- Dr. John Celes

[Giacomo]

Here is an Australian Classic. The rhythm of the piece is genius. Even if you have no idea what it is about you can still appreciate just how beautiful the language is.


Banjo Patterson's "Clancy of the Overflow".

had written him a letter which I had, for want of better
Knowledge, sent to where I met him down the Lachlan, years ago,
He was shearing when I knew him, so I sent the letter to him,
Just `on spec', addressed as follows, `Clancy, of The Overflow'.

And an answer came directed in a writing unexpected,
(And I think the same was written with a thumb-nail dipped in tar)
'Twas his shearing mate who wrote it, and verbatim I will quote it:
`Clancy's gone to Queensland droving, and we don't know where he are.'

In my wild erratic fancy visions come to me of Clancy
Gone a-droving `down the Cooper' where the Western drovers go;
As the stock are slowly stringing, Clancy rides behind them singing,
For the drover's life has pleasures that the townsfolk never know.

And the bush hath friends to meet him, and their kindly voices greet him
In the murmur of the breezes and the river on its bars,
And he sees the vision splendid of the sunlit plains extended,
And at night the wond'rous glory of the everlasting stars.

I am sitting in my dingy little office, where a stingy
Ray of sunlight struggles feebly down between the houses tall,
And the foetid air and gritty of the dusty, dirty city
Through the open window floating, spreads its foulness over all

And in place of lowing cattle, I can hear the fiendish rattle
Of the tramways and the 'buses making hurry down the street,
And the language uninviting of the gutter children fighting,
Comes fitfully and faintly through the ceaseless tramp of feet.

And the hurrying people daunt me, and their pallid faces haunt me
As they shoulder one another in their rush and nervous haste,
With their eager eyes and greedy, and their stunted forms and weedy,
For townsfolk have no time to grow, they have no time to waste.

And I somehow rather fancy that I'd like to change with Clancy,
Like to take a turn at droving where the seasons come and go,
While he faced the round eternal of the cash-book and the journal --
But I doubt he'd suit the office, Clancy, of `The Overflow'.

[tonatiuh8]

Dont Quit

You Tube

[Daniel Becerra]

This poem reminds me of the forever-to-be-a-classic "Tears of Heaven" by Eric Clapton.

Men Do Cry

by Ken Falk

I heard quite often "men don’t cry"
though no one ever told me why.
So when I fell and skinned a knee,
no one came by to comfort me.

And when some bully-boy at school
would pull a prank so mean and cruel,
I’d quickly learn to turn and quip,
"It doesn’t hurt," and bite my lip.

So as I grew to reasoned years,
I learned to stifle any tears.
Though "Be a big boy" it began,
quite soon I learned to "Be a man."

And I could play that stoic role
while storm and tempest wracked my
soul.
No pain or setback could there be
could wrest one single tear from me.
Then one long night I stood nearby
and helplessly watched my son die.
And quickly found, to my surprise,
that all that tearless talk was lies.

And still I cry, and have no shame.
I cannot play that "big boy" game.
And openly, without remorse,
I let my sorrow takes its course.

So those of you who can’t abide
a man you’ve seen who’s often cried,
reach out to him with all your heart
as one whose life’s been torn apart.

For men DO cry when they can see
their loss of immortality.
And tears will come in endless
streams
when mindless fate destroys their
dreams.

[A New Me]

Time for another sweet poem!

Mother Teresa's Anyway Poem

People are often unreasonable, illogical and self centered;
Forgive them anyway.

If you are kind, people may accuse you of selfish, ulterior motives;
Be kind anyway.

If you are successful, you will win some false friends and some true enemies;
Succeed anyway.

If you are honest and frank, people may cheat you;
Be honest and frank anyway.

What you spend years building, someone could destroy overnight;
Build anyway.

If you find serenity and happiness, they may be jealous;
Be happy anyway.

The good you do today, people will often forget tomorrow;
Do good anyway.

Give the world the best you have, and it may never be enough;
Give the world the best you've got anyway.

You see, in the final analysis, it is between you and your God;
It was never between you and them anyway

[A New Me]

[tonatiuh8]

COMFORT ZONE

I use to have a Comfort Zone
Where I knew I couldn't fail
The same four walls of busy work
Were really more like jail.

I longed so much to do the things
I'd never done before,
But I stayed inside my Comfort Zone
And paced the same old floor

I said it didn't matter,
That I wasn't doing much
I said I didn't care for things
Like diamonds, furs and such

I claimed to be so busy
With the things inside my zone,
But ddep inside I longed for
Something special of my own.

I couldn't let my life go by,
Just watching others win.
I held my breath and stepped outside
And let the change begin.

I took a step and with new strength
I'd never felt before,
I kissed my Comfort Zone "goodbye"
And closed and locked the door.

If you are in a Comfort Zone,
Afraid to venture out,
Remember that all winners were
At one time filled with doubt.

A step or two and words of praise,
Can make your dreams come true.
Greet your future with a smile,
Success is there for you!

[jfogs]

This poem I made is called "Hail to the Heart". I definitely would not consider myself a poet by a stretch, but i do bang out some verses from time to time.

I like this one cause i trick people by title into thinking it is some lovey dovey emo poem, only to try to remind them that there are more important things in life then some hussy.

anyway here it is...

Hail to the Heart

Hey there heart, I got some good news today,
Dr. Wiener informed me that things are to be okay,
She talked to me about that EKG,
And said that there was no abnormity,

There is one little catch I have to tell,
Another thing I found out as well,
It appears my blood pressure is in the sky,
So she gave me a prescription to not make it so high,

23 milligrams will do the trick,
It’s lisinopril, it will help you tick!
And just incase that’s no help at all,
I here Cheerio’s lowers cholesterol,

I know you probably think I can do a better job,
Not gluttonizing like a big stupid slob,
And when I put smoke in my lungs to inhale,
I don’t see how it can do anything, but help you fail,

I know it’s bad what’s happened before,
Poor grandpa just collapsed on that dance floor,
It can’t even imagine what grandma said,
When she saw her husband just drop down dead,

The only pain, that I know she could relate,
Is when my father fell to the same fate,
This makes me wonder, will it happen to me?
Is it true bad things happen in three?

Sorry heart, for this sentimentality,
I shouldn’t let emotions get the best of me,
Lets start a new trend, something new,
We can do it together, and Aorta too!

Because after all, Dr Wiener informed me today,
That EKG said you were more then okay,
So we still have time to break the mold,
And I could still live to be a 60 year old,

I know being healthy is easier said then done,
And a lot of times it seems like no fun,
It may take me a while to win this fight,
But if we work together things should be alright,

So tomorrow morning it’s those golden Cheerio’s,
Crunchy and delicious as everyone knows,
And we will be there to greet the day,
To let the world know we are here to stay.


by jack daniel