More Poems Of Mine!
NumbersNotFound
Join Date: 2002-11-07 Member: 7556Members
Join Date: 2002-11-07 Member: 7556Members
in Off-Topic
<div class="IPBDescription">I'm a regular old emo...</div> <!--c1--></span><table border='0' align='center' width='95%' cellpadding='3' cellspacing='1'><tr><td><b>CODE</b> </td></tr><tr><td id='CODE'><!--ec1-->The Bus
A poorly padded seat,
On a poorly suspended ride,
Is strangely comfortable for me,
Despite the lack of comfort.
The same route, has sadly brought,
After six iterations of discomfort,
(two many, if you ask me)
A sense of consistency in a world,
In which everything changes.
People come and go,
Leaving yet more sadness in their wake,
Yet at this time I do my best,
To think, and write, and debate.
With music bursting, at least three clicks too high,
And eyes transfixed,
On random spots of quickly passing land,
In a game to catch a clear look of surroundings.
Muffled murmurs of naiveté
Give me pleasure and serenity.
Though it is odd to think,
That only among'st the chaos,
And the aimless vision,
And the outside world distant,
Does my world come closest.
(A real life lucidity- how rare!)
I would prefer, however,
A person to share it with.<!--c2--></td></tr></table><span class='postcolor'><!--ec2-->
<!--c1--></span><table border='0' align='center' width='95%' cellpadding='3' cellspacing='1'><tr><td><b>CODE</b> </td></tr><tr><td id='CODE'><!--ec1-->Un-ique
Are we all really unique?
Are we really "different"-
From all the other sheeple?
Or are we just regular sheep-
With blinders.
I'm taking my blinders off.<!--c2--></td></tr></table><span class='postcolor'><!--ec2-->
<!--c1--></span><table border='0' align='center' width='95%' cellpadding='3' cellspacing='1'><tr><td><b>CODE</b> </td></tr><tr><td id='CODE'><!--ec1-->
Glasses
I see everyone now-
So bright and clear-
Each carefully placed locke of hair-
No longer perpetually fuzzy.
(I tend to see lots of hair-
Being so afraid of the sight of faces.)
The very sight- Oh My!
Beauty defined crisply,
Yet more crisply out of reach,
And blemishes all the worse,
And my charactorial sight is from XX to C
My head is spinning from the sudden polarization!
I take off my glasses.<!--c2--></td></tr></table><span class='postcolor'><!--ec2-->
A poorly padded seat,
On a poorly suspended ride,
Is strangely comfortable for me,
Despite the lack of comfort.
The same route, has sadly brought,
After six iterations of discomfort,
(two many, if you ask me)
A sense of consistency in a world,
In which everything changes.
People come and go,
Leaving yet more sadness in their wake,
Yet at this time I do my best,
To think, and write, and debate.
With music bursting, at least three clicks too high,
And eyes transfixed,
On random spots of quickly passing land,
In a game to catch a clear look of surroundings.
Muffled murmurs of naiveté
Give me pleasure and serenity.
Though it is odd to think,
That only among'st the chaos,
And the aimless vision,
And the outside world distant,
Does my world come closest.
(A real life lucidity- how rare!)
I would prefer, however,
A person to share it with.<!--c2--></td></tr></table><span class='postcolor'><!--ec2-->
<!--c1--></span><table border='0' align='center' width='95%' cellpadding='3' cellspacing='1'><tr><td><b>CODE</b> </td></tr><tr><td id='CODE'><!--ec1-->Un-ique
Are we all really unique?
Are we really "different"-
From all the other sheeple?
Or are we just regular sheep-
With blinders.
I'm taking my blinders off.<!--c2--></td></tr></table><span class='postcolor'><!--ec2-->
<!--c1--></span><table border='0' align='center' width='95%' cellpadding='3' cellspacing='1'><tr><td><b>CODE</b> </td></tr><tr><td id='CODE'><!--ec1-->
Glasses
I see everyone now-
So bright and clear-
Each carefully placed locke of hair-
No longer perpetually fuzzy.
(I tend to see lots of hair-
Being so afraid of the sight of faces.)
The very sight- Oh My!
Beauty defined crisply,
Yet more crisply out of reach,
And blemishes all the worse,
And my charactorial sight is from XX to C
My head is spinning from the sudden polarization!
I take off my glasses.<!--c2--></td></tr></table><span class='postcolor'><!--ec2-->
Comments
404 is such a bore. <!--emo&:D--><img src='http://www.unknownworlds.com/forums/html/emoticons/biggrin.gif' border='0' style='vertical-align:middle' alt='biggrin.gif'><!--endemo--> Just kidding. Or am I?
Monkeys!
Fast!
Donkeys!
Clast!
I can rhyme so well <!--emo&:D--><img src='http://www.unknownworlds.com/forums/html/emoticons/biggrin.gif' border='0' style='vertical-align:middle' alt='biggrin.gif'><!--endemo-->
I like the first two lines of the first one the best. Like how you repeated the words, mm
damn you, mister evil.
good stuff tho, buddy. they're actually really cool.
Broken hearted;
Lit a match
Then I farted.<!--QuoteEnd--></td></tr></table><span class='postcolor'><!--QuoteEEnd-->
<!--c1--></span><table border='0' align='center' width='95%' cellpadding='3' cellspacing='1'><tr><td><b>CODE</b> </td></tr><tr><td id='CODE'><!--ec1-->
Pain
So common is the pain of flesh
Of gunshots fired, anger thrown
And dying, losing consciousness
But those who suffer aren't alone.
So tragic is the pain of mind
Their loved ones dead, forever gone.
But speak to them and you will find
That those who suffer still move on.
But so profound the pain of soul
Betrayal always comes so hard
And when your dearest love does so
You'll find that you're forever scarred.
... And never 'gain let down your guard.
There is no justice left on earth
It's child abuse to just give birth.
<!--c2--></td></tr></table><span class='postcolor'><!--ec2-->
Pure cheese.
Here's another one of mine, which happens to actually be about something (maths homework, actually)
<!--c1--></span><table border='0' align='center' width='95%' cellpadding='3' cellspacing='1'><tr><td><b>CODE</b> </td></tr><tr><td id='CODE'><!--ec1-->
I battled with a demon.
I grabbed it by the throat
And I got bit (though just a bit)
And with my hand I smote.
I battled with a demon,
Much like warring with a wall.
Used every trick, but was too thick.
I got nowhere at all.
I battled with a demon.
I tried and tried again.
I lost the fight - no answers right.
I fought 'till half-past ten.
I battled with a demon -
Thought I'd learned it all in class.
But I'd no clue of what to do
And so he kicked my arse.
I battled with a demon
And my brain is numb and sore.
I'll learn and then I'll try again.
I'll get him back, for sure.
<!--c2--></td></tr></table><span class='postcolor'><!--ec2-->
And two years later...
<!--c1--></span><table border='0' align='center' width='95%' cellpadding='3' cellspacing='1'><tr><td><b>CODE</b> </td></tr><tr><td id='CODE'><!--ec1-->
I battled with a demon.
I grabbed it by the throat
And I got bit (though just a bit)
And with my pen I wrote.
I battled with a demon.
I kicked it in the head.
I struck and then I struck again
'till it was surely dead.
I battled with a demon.
'twas a fight I'd fought before.
With shining blade and hand grenade
I beat it up some more.
I battled with a demon,
Answered all its riddles six.
I did my best and passed the test
For I knew all its tricks.
I battled with a demon
Saw the mighty creature fall.
And I remain. My foe is slain.
Its skull adorns my wall.
<!--c2--></td></tr></table><span class='postcolor'><!--ec2-->
The second one was after my Maths exam at uni last semester. Needless to say, I was very pleased with myself about it (the poem turned out pretty well, too <!--emo&:)--><img src='http://www.unknownworlds.com/forums/html/emoticons/smile.gif' border='0' style='vertical-align:middle' alt='smile.gif'><!--endemo-->).
<a href='http://www.weebl.jolt.co.uk/poet.htm' target='_blank'>poetry</a>
<!--QuoteBegin--></span><table border='0' align='center' width='95%' cellpadding='3' cellspacing='1'><tr><td><b>QUOTE</b> </td></tr><tr><td id='QUOTE'><!--QuoteEBegin-->Ever wonder if existence is a cruel satire?
Mocking what it should be.
Opposing boldly what defines average,
And accentuating those universal anomalies.
It's too subtle to be a comedy-
With its dry, dull, insipid humor-
Not fit for that raging river of populous,
Yet scarcely grasped by creeks of life.
Do these few exclusively know of this abstract comedy,
Or is that perception their anomaly?<!--QuoteEnd--></td></tr></table><span class='postcolor'><!--QuoteEEnd-->
I can feel my T-shirt getting lamer, my jeans getting tighter, and my hair starting to look more and more like I shot myself in the face
<!--c1--></span><table border='0' align='center' width='95%' cellpadding='3' cellspacing='1'><tr><td><b>CODE</b> </td></tr><tr><td id='CODE'><!--ec1-->THE IRON CURTAIN
The heart and mind share a strange relation,
Linked by nerves of negation,
For what is felt emotionally,
Is a logical impossibility.
I have wondered many times
How I would deal with my
Inner most inhibitional slime
If I could see the reason not to be shy.
And conversely- why must my cerebral mentality
Quarantine my vocal cords, and squelch my desires
Whenever She so much as cracks a smile?
Always won by my compulsions of morality.
The only order not reversed
Is that which does not traverse
That surgically precise road of repolarization,
But rather keeps to itself- in constant stagnation. <!--c2--></td></tr></table><span class='postcolor'><!--ec2-->
Infinity courses through my veins
Every second that flows by a lifetime
A minute's passing a millenia
I sit here in one place unmoving
Yet I am now also in all places
Unabridged tranquility
Now seconds gain speed
A minute passes in an hour, then a half
Reality rushes back to me
I exhale
In case you didn't notice I like free verse <!--emo&:p--><img src='http://www.unknownworlds.com/forums/html/emoticons/tounge.gif' border='0' style='vertical-align:middle' alt='tounge.gif'><!--endemo-->
Infinity courses through my veins
Every second that flows by a lifetime
A minute's passing a millenia
I sit here in one place unmoving
Yet I am now also in all places
Unabridged tranquility
Now seconds gain speed
A minute passes in an hour, then a half
Reality rushes back to me
I exhale
In case you didn't notice I like free verse <!--emo&:p--><img src='http://www.unknownworlds.com/forums/html/emoticons/tounge.gif' border='0' style='vertical-align:middle' alt='tounge.gif'><!--endemo--> <!--QuoteEnd--> </td></tr></table><span class='postcolor'> <!--QuoteEEnd-->
Nice.
I do a little of both.
<!--c1--></span><table border='0' align='center' width='95%' cellpadding='3' cellspacing='1'><tr><td><b>CODE</b> </td></tr><tr><td id='CODE'><!--ec1-->THE IRON CURTAIN
The heart and mind share a strange relation,
Linked by nerves of negation,
For what is felt emotionally,
Is a logical impossibility.
I have wondered many times
How I would deal with my
Inner most inhibitional slime
If I could see the reason not to be shy.
And conversely- why must my cerebral mentality
Quarantine my vocal cords, and squelch my desires
Whenever She so much as cracks a smile?
Always won by my compulsions of morality.
The only order not reversed
Is that which does not traverse
That surgically precise road of repolarization,
But rather keeps to itself- in constant stagnation. <!--c2--></td></tr></table><span class='postcolor'><!--ec2--> <!--QuoteEnd--> </td></tr></table><span class='postcolor'> <!--QuoteEEnd-->
You call this The Iron Curtain, but there's a distinct lack of Communism...
Does not compute!
<!--c1--></span><table border='0' align='center' width='95%' cellpadding='3' cellspacing='1'><tr><td><b>CODE</b> </td></tr><tr><td id='CODE'><!--ec1-->THE IRON CURTAIN
The heart and mind share a strange relation,
Linked by nerves of negation,
For what is felt emotionally,
Is a logical impossibility.
I have wondered many times
How I would deal with my
Inner most inhibitional slime
If I could see the reason not to be shy.
And conversely- why must my cerebral mentality
Quarantine my vocal cords, and squelch my desires
Whenever She so much as cracks a smile?
Always won by my compulsions of morality.
The only order not reversed
Is that which does not traverse
That surgically precise road of repolarization,
But rather keeps to itself- in constant stagnation. <!--c2--></td></tr></table><span class='postcolor'><!--ec2--> <!--QuoteEnd--></td></tr></table><span class='postcolor'><!--QuoteEEnd-->
You call this The Iron Curtain, but there's a distinct lack of Communism...
Does not compute! <!--QuoteEnd--> </td></tr></table><span class='postcolor'> <!--QuoteEEnd-->
Ever hear of the "In soviet russia" jokes bwa haha