Poetry?

I saw some one put down rap, so I think its safe to say poetry wont be burned.

Any who, when I can I write poems here and there and try to make them into music. (considering every time I bring fellow artist together we don't screw around.) so here is a piece from me and I will add more later on.

{My reasons for moving.}

So watch'a gana say,
watch'a a gana do,
sense your head broke over,
a heart...
your heart...

You say...
your gana cry ya self to sleep,
cry ya self to sleep,
but tell me...

what you've done.
to fix your wounds.
cause your doing an,
awful job
hiding them
In fact
its sort of funny,
how hard you try,
poor soul,
I wish you well
wish you well...

Don't come to me...
about your sorrows
about your love
about your life,
your life...

The lights are out and I know your scared,
The noises in the night keeps you on edge,
Your face becomes beautiful florescent lights,
but all you receive are insects of every kind,
as you ware away,
ware away
ware away.

I could care less!
may darling friends!
I could die tonight and be just fine!
don't think you can ride on my per-side,
My conscience has drained away,
in the pursuit of protecting your heart....

ohh, How is it gana go
gana fly
when have nothing left
no safety net,
for wasting your body away...
don't try me,
unlike you,
I'm not possessed by lust...

You broke your head over your heart.
you cry your self to sleep.
you wither away every day.
as I watch your face be eaten away,
I feel indifferent of this horror...

because all of you stab a cross in my heart...
As I squirmed on the floor, you laid beside me,
kiss my forehead and say to me, "I love you"...

As a zombie in the night
do you really think I care...
of the out come,
of this
fairytale.

Yes you will scream and you will cry,
but no one will die,
so you don't need my time...

Call me soulless,
call me a monster,
but I'm tired of playing this games.
Forced to breath and learn in which is called normal,
but my only concern is saving people from the dark,
and in return you all keep silent as the few of you
stay close, pin me down,
and stab that cross through my heart...
through my heart ...

So watch'a gana say!
watch'a gana do!
and How it is gana go,
gana fly!

When I'm not there to save you from the dark.

poetry may be burned... but oh well.

Death's whispers have arrived
so cold it stings my ear
Ive reached the end of life
yet still i have no fear
only six words are spoken
"dont fight, come with me dear"
I peacfully give in
the pain is gone, the end is here
as weak and tired as i am
in the face of death, there won't be a tear

meh, whatever. ive literally written 2 poems ever so i think its pretty decent.

Well as long as it isn't a forest fire its all good. lol

nice piece, a sort but very strong way of expressing submission to the weight that every one cares in life and the people who fall from the weight into the dark from it. I like!

In England once there lived a big
And wonderfully clever pig.
To everybody it was plain
That Piggy had a massive brain.
He worked out sums inside his head,
There was no book he hadn't read.
He knew what made an airplane fly,
He knew how engines worked and why.
He knew all this, but in the end
One question drove him round the bend:
He simply couldn't puzzle out
What LIFE was really all about.
What was the reason for his birth?
Why was he placed upon this earth?
His giant brain went round and round.
Alas, no answer could be found.
Till suddenly one wondrous night.
All in a flash he saw the light.
He jumped up like a ballet dancer
And yelled, "By gum, I've got the answer!"
"They want my bacon slice by slice
"To sell at a tremendous price!
"They want my tender juicy chops
"To put in all the butcher's shops!
"They want my pork to make a roast
"And that's the part'll cost the most!
"They want my sausages in strings!
"They even want my chitterlings!
"The butcher's shop! The carving knife!
"That is the reason for my life!"
Such thoughts as these are not designed
To give a pig great piece of mind.
Next morning, in comes Farmer Bland,
A pail of pigswill in his hand,
And piggy with a mighty roar,
Bashes the farmer to the floor…
Now comes the rather grizzly bit
So let's not make too much of it,
Except that you must understand
That Piggy did eat Farmer Bland,
He ate him up from head to toe,
Chewing the pieces nice and slow.
It took an hour to reach the feet,
Because there was so much to eat,
And when he finished, Pig, of course,
Felt absolutely no remorse.
Slowly he scratched his brainy head
And with a little smile he said,
"I had a fairly powerful hunch
"That he might have me for his lunch.
"And so, because I feared the worst,
"I thought I'd better eat him first."

by Roald Dahl

Devour to survive, so its been, so it will always be. Nice piece to bring to the table.

In the garden of Eden,

As everyone knows,

Lived Adam and Eve,

Without any clothes.

In this garden,

Were two little leaves,

One covered Adam's,

One covered Eve's.

As the story goes on,

Never the less to say,

The wind came along,

And blew the leaves away.

At the sight,

Adam did stare,

There was Eve's treasure,

All covered with hair.

And wonder came,

Under Eve's eyes,

As Adam's thing,

Started to rise.

They found a spot,

That suited them best,

A nice big tree,

Where they began to rest.

Her legs spread wider,

And wider apart,

While thrill after thrill,

Came into her heart.

The head of Adam's thing,

Peeked into the hole,

And filled her with passion,

Beyond her control.

Backward and forward,

His thing did slide,

And Eve's treasure,

Was all wet inside.

The joy was good,

She wouldn't let loose,

Until Adam's thing,

Was all out of juice.

Then down through the years,

People did screw,

And now it is time,

For me and you.

So pull down your pants,

And lay in the grass,

Cause I'm in the mood,

For a piece of that ass!

I wrote one to go along with a halo fanfiction series i wrote a few mounths ago. Can't believe i found it...

The Young Soldier in Combat


The young soldier thunders from safety
Tossed from the warm serenity
Into a sea of fire and hate he plunges
Into the unforgiving land of dread;
He is swallowed

The steady pounding of firing awakes him
From his daze he is brutally roused
To cover he runs, wishing not for glory, not for praise

What have I done? The young soldier asks
The stinging pain of loss had engulfed him
The fear of the twisting nether had propelled him
He was not thinking, he was not right
His Father’s death with rage filled him
On emotion he acted, on anger he drove

The young soldier clings to safety
Longing only to return to the place of peace
He is not alone, but he is, swept up in a cyclone
He is all that is unmoving

Desperate for a pause, he must collect himself
Only wanting to stop the inexorable swirling
Only wanting to slow the spin
Just to gather, Just to rethink

But he cannot, for it is over
The burning sea is doused
The land of dread is cleansed
Only the hopeless remains

For the young soldier is alone
The circle around tightens
Like water, slowly retaking its land
Slowly taking back what it belongs too
The monolithic tide of enemies consumes him

He is being raised, raised up to the level
A pair of eyes, cold, with icy flames of hate
Searing regret of his choice, it is too late to save him
Nine feet above ground, the eyes beam him his fate

He is not afraid
He is prepared
With a soft, relieving pain
The burning blade returns him
To his place of peace and warmth

End.

P.S. For those who are unaware about this part of halo Cannon: Elites commonly stand about 8-9 feet tall and the leaders ussually carry an energy sword with them. They are not above using it for the fun of execution.

didnotmeanto - If I remember correctly when Adam and Eve had sex it was out of frustration of banishment from the garden.... but your story sounds a bit happier. lol

baneofdeath - Nice piece. One thing I do agree on in there, no matter who the enemy is, war is hell. These things should never be started.

Eh humor is humor, Its amzing how easily poetry can become music isnt it?

Example:
I'm My Own Grandpa
Guy Lombardo

Now many many years ago when I was twenty-three
I was married to a widow who was pretty as can be
This widow had a grown-up daughter who had hair of red
My father fell in love with her and soon they too were wed

Chorus:
Oh I'm my own grandpa
I'm my own granpa
It sounds funny I know,
But it really is so
Oh I'm my own grandpa
Chorus:

This made my dad my son-in-law and changed my very life
My daughter was my mother 'cause she was my father's wife
To complicate the matter even though it brought me joy
I soon became the father of a bouncing baby boy

My little baby then became a brother-in-law to Dad
And so became my uncle, though it made me very sad
For if he was my uncle, then that also made him br'ther
Of the widow's grown-up daughter who was also my stepmother

Father's wife then had a son who kept them on the run
And he became my grandchild, for he was my daughter's son
My wife is now my mother's mother and it makes me blue
Because altho' she is my wife, she's my grandmother too

Now if my wife is my grandmother, then I'm her grandchild
And every time I think of it, it nearly drives me wild
For now I have become the strangest case I ever saw
As husband of my grandmother, I am my own grandpa
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6BMsSs16BA4
Edit: This is off topic but John isnt Roald Dahl the writer of the book James and the Giant Peach?

Childrens books of Ronald Dahl
1.The Gremlins (1943)
2.James and the Giant Peach (1961) — Film: James and the Giant Peach (live-action/animated) (1996)
3.Charlie and the Chocolate Factory (1964) — Films: Willy Wonka & the Chocolate Factory (1971) and Charlie and the Chocolate Factory (2005)
4.The Magic Finger (1 June 1966)
5.Fantastic Mr Fox (9 December 1970) — Film: Fantastic Mr. Fox (animated) (2009)
6.Charlie and the Great Glass Elevator (9 January 1972) A sequel to Charlie and the Chocolate Factory.
7.Danny, the Champion of the World (30 October 1975) — Film: Danny the Champion of the World (TV movie) (1989)
8.The Enormous Crocodile (24 August 1978)
9.The Twits (9 October 1980)
10.George's Marvellous Medicine (21 May 1981)
11.The BFG (14 October 1982) — Film: The BFG (animated) (1989)
12.The Witches (27 October 1983) — Film: The Witches (1990)
13.The Giraffe and the Pelly and Me (26 September 1985)
14.Matilda (21 April 1988) — Film: Matilda (1996) < One of my favorite movies
15.Esio Trot (19 April 1990)
16.The Vicar of Nibbleswicke (9 May 1991)
17.The Minpins (8 August 1991)

@mesonic: you should realize 90% of everything didnot says is meant to try and offend people. learn to ignore him

This is a poem i wrote.. idk.. dont talk shit about it. if ou dont like it, shut the hell up. keep it to yourself.

Its called "smile"


Always a smile
but theres something shes hiding
Acts tough on the outside
but inside shes dying
All she wants is escape
from people's abuse
the hate, and the torment
that have caused her issues
They judge her endlessly
they call her insane
but she would never wish
that they had her pain
They judge and abuse her
and she always acts strong
but the second they're gone
the heartbreak comes along
they judge her even though
they have never known the pain
and all that she asks
is to be treated the same
But thats too much to ask
from the people on earth
They have all been so cruel
and have destroyed her self-worth
They say that she's broken
but dont look at the cause
One day she will die
and few people will notice
the death of another smiling girl
that was broken...

sami_gurl wrote:

@mesonic: you should realize 90% of everything didnot says is meant to try and offend people. learn to ignore him

QFT but lately I have cut down on some of it. I leave most of my humor on my avatar and signature but if anyone complains let me know and I'll change them.

Adam and Eve was on topic maybe Im my own grandpa isnt and I more then understand if you erase that post.

I'm not offended what so ever. lol Poetry has many shades, comedy is one of them. If something really grinds my gears I will let you know. Your fine didnotmeanto. I thought the Adam and eve thing was purity damn funny!

sami_gurl your piece "smile" Is awesome! I was reading it while listening to Anuna and it almost got to me. lol

Here is a bit of a shorter one, but I have been told its good.

{Bound}

The girl was a genuine killer...
she loved the sweat, between the pillars...
call in the boys, call in the girls,
for defecation of this liberation,
and maybe the killer will find her pacer...

She knows damn well what she wants...
she'll take as she pleases...
behind close doors only whispers perspire,
with the red flow, becoming louder,
no mercy was shed,
she shows she's genuine killer!...

What is rough with this picture?!...

Why do I feel distrot?!...

Were is the trigger!?!?

With 15 minutes before the blinds are pulled,
she hides behind the religious bliss,
justifying this is righteous,
ohh, the audacity of this whore!
but no one seems to care...

As she enjoys more time with in these halls,
I can't help to think my neck has been twisted,
but now her neck belongs to the devil,
God damn she was a genuine killer...

Louis MacNeice - Prayer before Birth

I am not yet born; O hear me.
Let not the bloodsucking bat or the rat or the stoat or the
club-footed ghoul come near me.

I am not yet born, console me.
I fear that the human race may with tall walls wall me,
with strong drugs dope me, with wise lies lure me,
on black racks rack me, in blood-baths roll me.

I am not yet born; provide me
With water to dandle me, grass to grow for me, trees to talk
to me, sky to sing to me, birds and a white light
in the back of my mind to guide me.

I am not yet born; forgive me
For the sins that in me the world shall commit, my words
when they speak me, my thoughts when they think me,
my treason engendered by traitors beyond me,
my life when they murder by means of my
hands, my death when they live me.

I am not yet born; rehearse me
In the parts I must play and the cues I must take when
old men lecture me, bureaucrats hector me, mountains
frown at me, lovers laugh at me, the white
waves call me to folly and the desert calls
me to doom and the beggar refuses
my gift and my children curse me.

I am not yet born; O hear me,
Let not the man who is beast or who thinks he is God
come near me.

I am not yet born; O fill me
With strength against those who would freeze my
humanity, would dragoon me into a lethal automaton,
would make me a cog in a machine, a thing with
one face, a thing, and against all those
who would dissipate my entirety, would
blow me like thistledown hither and
thither or hither and thither
like water held in the
hands would spill me.

Let them not make me a stone and let them not spill me.
Otherwise kill me.

And though it will pale in the shadow of the above masterpiece, I'll throw in my own contribution... though I enjoy writing, I've never been one for poetry, but here is one thing I wrote a few years ago that I can submit without too much embarrassment:

The End

As I approach this last and final time
Relive my times of joy, repent my crime
I wonder what will happen when I’m gone.
When last light through my shutting eyes has shone
What will I see? What will be true to me,
When my perception transcends earth and sea?
Does life go on and our soul’s wounds persist
To find another body to exist?
Or do I end in earnest and dissolve?
Could death be such a simple thing to solve?
Will all the paths I’ve chosen in my life
Determine that I pass to peace or strife?
I’ve seen men die in less time than required
To ponder if they’re damned or are admired;
Would it be fair if, retroactively,
Their deeds were to form their eternity?
Who has the right to say how death plays out?
So many fates are shrouded and in doubt.
These people wait on me and seem to think
They know what happens after my last drink.
And you put so much stress upon my end
And base your theories always on a trend.
But now I’m here, with life and death in hand
I know which one is at my own command.
One side of this partition surely matters:
That I have not bequeathed a past in tatters.
What’s done is done, and now my past has passed.
I lived each moment well from first to last.
And now I go; it’s time for me to rest;
My life I must accept at death’s behest.

John Laird McCaffery Last Message

Free Your Body And Soul
Unfold Your Powerful Wings
Climb Up The Highest Mountains
Kick Your Feet Up In The Air

You May Now Live Forever
Or Return To This Earth
Unless You Feel Good Where You Are

lamers... write your own poems!!

and thx whoever complimented mine.. i forgot.. and am lazy to go find out who it was

I did write one! But I felt the need to share MacNiece's before posting my own... besides, everyone's doing it :p

yeah, obviously i wasnt talkin about you then lamer
i know. everyone is failing =[

Now who saids i have and creative bones in my body.


Im a fighter not a wrighter dont forget it.



That was a beutiful peice Accursed it did in fact made me shead a tear for that poam.

It was indeed a deep peice that makes me think deep thoughts.

That poam you wrote was quite the oppsite of the comment above yours is the master peice.

Thanks! I'm glad I was able to provoke some thought with it.

When life is gone
The soul leaps from the body
lile a school boy from the school door
with glee and joy
there is no horror in death

yay for me

You can choose a ready guide in some celestial voice.
If you choose not to decide, you still have made a choice.
You can choose from phantom fears and kindness that can kill;
I will choose a path that's clear
I will choose freewill.

Geddy Lee is a poet of sorts.