5 minute poetry

[Totsumanu]

Ode to Osterbaum:

Stabity stab stab
Finland flag I wave

Stabity stab stab
The blood of my victims I crave

Stabity stab stab
My knife will guide the way

Stabity stab stab
That's all I do all day

[BlackMageGirl!]

Bittersweet
This farewell
The last chain
Has been broken

Flexing my wings
Cramped, strained, sore
Quite surprised at
How little it hurt

A slow ache, it grew
His last sad words
The long sought concern
"Did I hurt you?"

A pinprick of the soul
When I thought
I was finally free
It left me...empty.

[slightly aboveaverage man]

Failure

How failure stings so, to those whom they thought great.
How it hurts for hopes so high, to enter the pearly gates.
For we thought ourselves mighty, and keen in understanding,
But when push comes to shove, we're in free fall, without landing.

We know all the theories, we understand the concepts,
but when crunch time comes, all our knowledge has left.
For we thought, our own we held, for sure we could withstand,
But we leave this learned place in shame, without a helping hand.

[Funka Genocide]

transcendent overarching vibes gnidnereven gninaem
undertones of societal influence
mass brainwash of unclean minds
made no cleaner by the scrubbing
hints and reccollections, far from proof
dive the psychowave, release the fear

Psychotic heavy hearts ytinas gnipacse eht
not bleeding any more sallirog ekil lufyalp
climbing metaphors to reach insanity
beyond mortal cognisence
third eye first, after the rainbow collapses


the psychonaut of terror deyortsed sdnim gnirednaw dna
adventures at the cost of real ailanrehparap iebmoz yb
make believe spiritual euthanasia ecaf a tuohtiw hteet
world of something, corn fields

birds everywhere, wings and talons for president slrigloohcs ekil gnirettahc
inside the mammon principle, no windows desu eb ot deticxe
no more real for the enlightened gniniart ni stopsed yb

exteriors of plastic people elpoep citsonga souiruf eht
coming to an end, delightful music meht rof edam sdnim

no more real laer erom on

-error-

[Cloud Strife]

Shallow promises,
from those who don't know
what the problem is
that surrounds the others,
draws on despair
and lonliness, teasing wants
without a care
that the gift they offer
is a hollow shell encompassing
the cacophony of sounds
known as war,
kept amongst the eyes of heaven
as a sacred being
that is only for
those who are offered
the chance of a lifetime,
the chance to really shine
in the eye of Humanity.

...

But the real promise
that can be kept
by those who offer it,
because they've wept
alone and afraid,
with nothing left for them,
but still go on,
for they are the strongest,
With the faith of strength,
No strings of wealth.
They offer the faith
of an empty hand.

[BlackMageGirl!]

Kathrine, Kathrine
Oh where have you been?
And why do you gaze at the water?

I look, I look
For that one who has took
My heart, that's all that matters...

But who could steal your heart?
What theif would play that part?
and make your fragile world shatter?

A man from summers long gone
Vanished he at the rays of dawn
His smile made my heart patter...

And so, Kathrine, dear Kathrine
Who's face in the lake she's seen
Stayed gazing forever in the water...

[shiney]

DaBiggman, Subtle hint.

OH WAIT

Maybe you should pay more attention? And perhaps keep your opinions of the poem straight?

[phil_]

The Fall of Stromp

A town was tortured. In tremulous fear
they watched and waited: It was coming.
They feared a ferocious, fearsome brute,
as strong as a steel bar. His name was Stromp.
It was a bugbear, an ogre, and cruel.
As the clouds' chamber closed in blackness,
the sound would stop: streets would clear.
For once, long ago, Stromp could
prowl the lanes, popping peasants
down his drooling jaws, and
he would crush curs and cats, guffawing
until moonset, when he'd make a mound
of broken bodies and buildings, and toss
it into the air: watch as the peasants
cleaned the colossal ruin, claimed
their dead, and drudged through another day.
Those horrors have halted, no one's outside
when the wind and stars whirl together,
but Stromp still steals lives
in a new manner. Now it climbs
the walls, and when their waking ceases,
it rips the roof, reaches into their beds,
and snatches their soul-cage, greedily smacking
its mouth, reveling in its meal's misfortune
as much as, if not more than, its meal itself.
One day, during the dusk-lengthening,
a hand was going home, hurriedly because
night was nigh, and Nick knew
that Stromp still ate streetwalkers.
Nick's work had waited, while he joined
his master's young maiden's afternoon stroll.
So his scything was stalled. He finished his grain
as the sky's star, sooner than hoped,
started to sink. His sickle he held
fast in his fist. "I'd first perish, than
drop my only tool," Nick thought.
Now Nick, nearly asleep from the day's doing,
arrived at the avenue of his master's apartment.
An extrusion appeared on the star's curtain.
"Stromp!" said Nick. "He'll eat my master and maiden!"
"Murderous monster! Make haste and depart,
or yon building will become thy barrow!" Nick challenged.
Stromp laughed at the little lad. "You say
I'll die, but death doesn't come easily!"
With that, it took its tightened fist and
made ready to munch on Nick's master and maiden.
With all his strength, Nick shot his sickle,
and like a bolt from a bow bores into mortal flesh,
it found its edge in Stromp's eye.
The foul-one had never felt fear, but
the pain in its pryer pierced its heart.
Wildly it flailed, floundered forward,
and fell with a "Snap!" on its foul face.
And as the shadows, scared of the Sun and its brightness,
inch toward the inviting ivory disk,
Nick crept closer and, catching sight
of the burgundy blood, bright as it left
Stromp's ear, exclaimed, "What excellent
luck! The Lord has looked on this night
and fated the fiend, foul and cruel,
who, since before I was born, has bested
our best in battle, to break its own neck
and doom its own darkness down
to the infernal pit." People peered from their windows,
having heard Stromp's last howls, and saw that Stromp
was undone. Unheard of upheaval of cheers
soared from the people, sounding in the sky
to its highest point. "Hooray for the field-hand Nick,
who fate has found to fell our foe!"
Then Nick, now no longer no one,
lived in his master's house for all of his
long, lauded, and merry life

[Demon with a Glass Hand]

Forever Zero

Happiness,
Babe, I want it
Fantastic Tommorows,
Babe, I chase it
Composure
Babe, I had it
Volumous void,
Babe, I feel it
Forever Zero,
without you, Babe, I am it.

[Packman]

<----- Confused as to what Shiney is talking about. Guess I missed something.

sh etyad suka.

Is this a sad joke or does it have an actual meaning in a non-english languge. (someone had to comment on it)