5 minute poetry

[Osterbaum]

If you don't have any constructive critisism, please keep your comments to your self. This thread is mostly or only for poems, and no one needs to be told how 'bad' their poems are.

And let people write about what they want. And not all poems are about how crappy life is anyway.

A poem is what the poet wants it to be, and I don't know about the other people, but I do not really care about anyones comments, unless they are constructive and more about the construction and not the thoughts in the poem.

Again, please keep that kinds of comments to yourself.

I apologize to anyone who might think I acted too mod like.

[RaiRai]

Oster, you said everything just right, my friend.

Toe Nibbler, keep your rude comments to yourself. Your poem wasn't exactly brilliant itself. This isn't a place people write poetry to be told that it's crap. If you can't back that up with any proper critique, shut up.

[Shoraru]

Just to add on to it, anyone considering themselvs as a poet attempts to capture the very essence of there writing in a form that attracts others towards there work. Whether a poem is about the fiery light of the sun or the death of a loved one, by conforming this essence, we are able to express our problems, feelings, as well as our thoughts to everyone.

Toe Nibbler's oppression gave me another peice of inspiration so:

Free

Shoraru H.

To have lost all chains,
To have known the light
and
Appreciated it's majesty,
We must be Free,

Free to conform to our own ideas,
Free to believe in others,
Free to know that what we do,
Is what will be,

Free to see as others do,
Free to hear the sounds of the world,
Free to smell the hope that flows,
Free to taste the victory we wish to achieve,
Free to feel the life within us,

Free.

[Funka Genocide]

Here’s to the lost and losing
To wasted circumstance
For fools without their bearing
And brilliance left to age

To wanderers and vagabonds
The beautiful yet failed
The child who absconds
Before he learns to hate

To sly and roguish infidels
Cheeky and at ease
To egos made with thinnest steel
Tempered in white flame

To the vainly brash
And unknown geniuses
To lives made from the ash
Of bridges burnt away

May all your tears be true
And wind not rest ahead
And when it turns from you
May this world find regret

May they weep remembering
The glory of a fool
And may the cold December rain
Not find you without warmth

May all your dreams be wilder still
Than your escapades
And may the sword bow to the quill
In your shadowed hands

and may those bridges burn
so bright they steal the stars
from the eyes that spurn
your careless majesty

Erick Diaz 13 August, 2005


by the way mr. Nibbler, you misspelled "grandure" in your sig there...

and what happened to rep? I miss it!

Funka is sad now.

[Overcast]

Been a while...very long while I must say. But nonetheless I feel pretty good.

To disappear..

I stare into the masses.
To a question in my head.
Just staring through my glasses.
Of what happens when I'm dead.

But not to me to others.
After the day I dissapear.
From my sisters or my brothers.
All the ones that hold me dear.

What would happen when they find me.
Would they even care.
Would they be depressed or maybe happy.
As I was fallen there.

But that questioned won't be answered.
Not until the day I die.
Maybe that time I'll choose to master.
To leave the masses for the sky.

[Cloud Strife]

In the shade of a tree, a wounded soul sits,
Silently sighing, his heart torn to bits,
Not by a lover, any natural disaster,
But by himself, his destiny's master.

Fate was dealing crookedly again,
Caused the soul to ruthlessly pretend
that everything was in the right,
Although his day was really night.

Ahead of him, a future, bright and clear,
Behind him, burning, was all he held dear.
Not caused by forced beyond his control,
The man was corrupted down to his soul.

His future, so close, was just an illusion,
For Fate, you see, had caused these delusions,
And without a thought, he didn't look back,
How many he hurt, he didn't keep track.

And then...

And then...

She...

[Toe Nibbler]

Oh good, the haters get a poem from me. So it was not totally useless disagreeing with someone on this forum after all. Honestly, I think it's fine that everyone likes to make poetry about whatever they want, I just wonder why it has to be about such deep stuff.

[shiney]

Maybe because it's fucking poetry.

This is another mod, an admin in fact, telling you to shut your hole and go crawl back under that rock you came from. I'm not pulling any punches around this forum anymore, and I will in fact be as much of a prick as necessary to get rude people to understand when they are being twits and need to be slapped in the mouth for a few hours.

This is one of those times.

Shut up, or I will ban you.

[Toe Nibbler]

Alright, you win. Ban me. I'm tired of you shiney. I can't stand you. You're so friggin sure of yourself, and it's rather pathetic. It was fun while it lasted.

[Meister]

Sheesh, if you can't keep from flaunting your petty personal grudges, don't be surprised if we do.