5 minute poetry

[Durandal]

Nice, bro.

[slightly aboveaverage man]

And now,

THE PLOWMAN
By Edgah SAAM Snow.

Once upon a midnight dreary, while I shoveled weak and weary,
Into many great and frustrating volumes of icy snow galore,
While groaned, back cracking, when suddenly there was a crackling,
Which nearly had me crapping, crapping in my pants outdoors.
“T’is some snowblower,” said I. “clearing out my neighbors dorm-
Only this and nothing more.”

Ah, I distinctly remember, it was in a bleak December,
And each separate falling flake wrote it’s filth upon the floor.
Eagerly, I wished for ‘morrow, for vainly I had sought to borrow
A shovel to ease my sorrow, Sorrow for my snowed in door.
For the warm and inviting opening which the contractor named “The Door,”
Buried here for evermore.

The silken, sad uncertain falling of each white snowflake
Grilled me- Filled me with fantastic rages that I’d never felt before;
So that now, to still my boiling blood I said in my toiling,
“T’is some Snowblower clearing the entrance of my neighbors dorm,
Some late relative clearing the entrance of my neighbors dorm,
Only this and nothing more…”

Presently my spine grew stronger, hesitating then no longer,
‘Sir,’ said I. ‘Or Madam. Surely you’re assistance I implore,
But the fact is I was shov’ling, and I could faintly hear you chunnl’ing,
So quaintly you came Tunnl’ing, Tunn’ling at my neighbors door,
That some help is what I implore you.” Open wide, my eyes grew more,
Darkness there, and nothing more.

Deep into the darkness peering, Long I stood there, wondering, fearing,
Doubting, dreaming of vast snowdrifts piled deep along the shore.
But the silence was unbroken, and the darkness gave no token,
The only word there spoken was the whispered word, “The door.”
This I whispered, and turned my attention back to my goal: the door.
Snow is blocking it, nothing more.

Back into the driveway turning, all my extremities on my burning,
Soon again I heard the cracking, somewhat nearer than before.
“Surely,” Said I. “Surely that is something on the pavement, out there,
Let me see then, without a stare, and this mystery explore-
T’is a dog and nothing more!”

Out the entrance, prayed for mother, came with jelly and peanut butter,
In there drove a surly plowman on the city’s payroll, for more.
Not the least obedience gave he, not a snowbank dropped or saved me,
But with mien of Wayne Brady, plowed in my driveway and my door.
Plowed in my Honda Civic, much to my discrete horror.
Plowed and Sat, and nothing more.

Then this ugly man changed my sad fancy into smiling,
By the snowy and Icy decorum on the Orange Overalls he wore,
“Though thy chest hair be long and growin’” Said I. “Surely you make not thousands,
Greasy, glum and gruesome Plowman screwing over distant shovelers galore.
Tell me what thy horrid name is, so your job will soon be no more.”
Quoth the Plowman, “Nevermore!”

Much I marveled this ungainly fellow to hear such discourse so plainly,
Though his answer little meaning, little relevancy bore.
For we cannot help agreeing that no living human being
Ever yet was cursed with seeing the jerk above his snowed in door.
Bum or beast above the avalanche of snow just in front his homestead door.
With such a name as ‘Nev Ermore.’

But the plowman sitting stonely on the mighty machine spoke only,
That one word, as if his breakfast on that word would rest forevermore,
Nothing further then he started, not a limb he moved, nor farted,
Till I scarcely more than smarted “Other friends have Plown before -
On the morrow will he leave me, as my hopes have shown before.'
Then the man said, “Nevermore.”

Startled at the stillness broken by reply so aptly spoken,
Doubtless,' said I, `what it utters is its only stock and store,
Caught from some ungainly teacher, whom unmerciful an preacher,
Is what he uttered, till his words became a bore,
Of “Nevermore, nevermore.”

But the Plowman still entreating my sad soul to smiling,
Straight I threw my shovel at the slob who plowed in my sacred door.
Then, into the snow sinking, I caught myself thinking,
Wondering and dreaming what this ugly beast had in store,
What this glum, Ungainly and ugly beast had for me in store,
By croaking “Nevermore.”

This I sat enraged in guessing, but no language expressing,
The foul words I had for the gloomy eyes that starred into my hearts core.
This and more I sat brooding, My eyes constantly moving,
To the ugly fat pig and the massive snowbank he gloated o’re.
But who’s beautiful entrance of warmth and comfort, he gloated o’re,
I may enter, oh, nevermore.

Then methought my mind grew denser, as if my words blocked out by unseen Censor.
Used by the FCC, who’ve invaded my mind, as they did television before.
“ASS!” I cried, “Thy Mayor hath lent thee, by this Plow, he hath sent thee,
Uncover, Unplow, and Repent from the evil thy job has for me in store!
Quit! Oh Quit this demonic employer and save this buried door!”
Quoth the Plowman, “Nevermore!”

“Jackass!” Said I, “Thing of evil! Jackass still when givn’ the power,
Whether Council sent, or by own will you came to my snowy shore!
Desolate yet all undaunted, on this winter land enchanted -
On this home by blizzard haunted - tell me truly, I implore –
Is there, Is there summer ahead, -tell me truly, I implore!”
Quoth the Plowman, “nevermore!”

“Asshole!” said I, “Thing of evil! Smelling like one still if givn’ a shower!
By that Heaven that bends above us - by that God we both adore -
Tell this soul with sorrow laden if, there is some lovely maiden
Whom on this very pavement will assist in uncovering my humble door?
Clasp a shovel and take to this pavement, to save my beloved door!
Quoth the Plowman, “Nevermore!”

“Be that word our sign of parting, Louse or Lump!” I shrieked, upstarting.
“Get thee back into the streets, and plow in some other poor soul’s Amour.
Leave no black plume as a token of that exhaust thy face hath been smoking!
Leave my shoveling unbroken! Quit the mound above my door!
Take thy Truck from out my Driveway, and take thy plow from off my door!
Quoth the Plowman, “Nevermore!”

And the Plowman, never slinking, still is stinking, still is stinking
Up the pallid Grey snow piled in front my homestead door.
And his eyes have all the bleeding of a pot head who is weeding
And the porch light o’re him streaming froze a shadow on the floor.
And my soul from out that shadow that lies frozen on the icy floor,
Shall be lifted, Nevermore.

[BlackMageGirl!]

Why, oh why honorable rep system...why won't you let me give SAAM more rep? *cries*

In other words...THAT WAS FREAKIN' AWESOME! You are a true Master Poet! *gives SAAM a standing ovation*

[Funka Genocide]

now for something like a poetry thing!


kick it, kick it, kick it! yeah!

its dented to the base and the paint is coming off!
I would have scraped some more but the drugs are kicking in...
I would have chased some whores but my mother says its sin
I would go back in doors but how'd I get back out again?

leave me lying in this puddle!
its nice and cold and wet,
something to hold that gets
me so very bold, now lets

take a peak at your insides!

theres various bits of flesh
superficial trapsings of a hyper mind
beneficial windings in transformers unaligned
continental drift and the great divide

like the one between us!

or the one I made up
like a story book I read once
or a gory look at dread chance
in a thorny bush where I lost my pants

could I 'ave them back?

[Nikose Tyris]

that was... different... and yet perfect for you, funka. 2 points! LOL.

seriously, though, i am in a funk. nothing to write about right now. give me a topic! even a limerick could break me outta this!

[Funka Genocide]

topic eh? I'm not too good with those, but hows about this?

there are gods beyond gods
those constructs of vanity
those images of humanity
which scream at us from pulpits

there is a true divine
which lies within us all
no lies or fallacies
only that which we can't see

the eye we seek with
is an errant soldier
on these fields of redemption
we wage our holy wars on

don't look for Him
for there is no need
you are all thats needed
all that can be found...


not such a good topic me thinks, but I am teh drunxorzz at the moment, so meh!

just a note, keep up the good work everyone, I love all of your poetry!

all your prose are belong to us!

they set us up the limerick!

[BlackMageGirl!]

Five left, ten left, fifteen
Slowly the minutes tick by
And I cross the line, I dream
Of singing waters
and pearly shores
and flowers bright

I walk on the sand
My feet feels
The rough docks
The soothing pools
The sunny dunes
And my body feels
When I wake up,
as I fall out of my chair
Onto the cold floor.

[Funka Genocide]

here is a joint effort between me and Black Mage Girl!

Something inside of me has awakened...
although I'm not one for drama
My heart flutters, my breath comes short...
and all the world looks right through me
This angel bright, with broken wings, wakes anew
but she's wearing the wrong robe
This silken madness covers me again...
in sweet dismay and discord
The song that she used to sing, so quietly
cacophonous now, in its silence
She used to be, but now has changed.
in ways she'd best not mention
I come close but to her I cannot speak.
despite this heavy mind, I cry
What changed this warm plane into cold field?
and where did all the memories go?
With every tear goes another rememberance.
into this void of souls, my heart
Beats the flowing pain through my being
alone and still so unadored
Without even a robe, I leave this place, shivering

lets just call this "The Poem"

the first line is BMG!'s, we alternated after that.

*huggles poem*

[Cloud Strife]

"Tears of the Heart"

The tears of the heart,
Are the tears so pure,
That the deadly darts'
poison will be cured.
But those tears come at a price,
An unforseen circumstance
of pain and suffering so cold
To first earn your second chance.
The question begs itself:
Does one let themselves die,
the poison seeping into your veins,
in order to let the suffering end?
Or does one pay the price, break
though, live on through the pain,
leaving destruction in their wake?

[Osterbaum]

Bombs fly
Bombs fall
Bombs explode
People die
Peole hurt each other
With words
With fists
We destroy
We exploit
The world
Each other
Everything
And everyone

Because of what?

Because of other people
Because of all of us
We are stupid, our minds are criple
When will we wake up

When will we wake up to reality?

We are all human
Me, you, he and she
We are all equal
We are only so small
A tiny part of this world
Not it's center
Not it's rulers
Just part of it
So let's just be
Like other species are
Let's just live
In peace
In harmony
Together
Like friends
Let's be one