NationStates Jolt Archive

Hey there folks, it's me again. I've noticed quite a few of you are of the creative mold. Forgive me if this is just another thread in a long list of similar ones, but I'd like to see your creative juices flow (that sounds a bit dirty ;) ).

Post your poetry or song lyrics here to be appreciated by all. I'll start.

A plethora of pained faces
Of different creeds and different races
If you could, would you trade places?
Is your heart made out of stone?

Mankind thinks in terms of reaction
In this there is but a fraction
Of true unrestrained compassion
To selfishness we are prone

Let them die
They cannot at all help themselves
Let them die
We are not to blame
We won’t try
Survival of the wealthiest
So let them die
We are without shame

See the mediocre celebrity
And his chosen charity
Lose a game show on TV
With his own riches will he part?

Only generous if he wins the game
Most of us would do the same
Our collective conscience is crippled and lame
And this is just the start

Let them die
Their suffering is not our problem
Let them die
Let them fend for themselves
We won’t try
Survival of the greediest
So let them die
We think only of ourselves

I must share the blame
Because I am the same
I am self-centered too
Just like you




It is a human trait
To leave others to fate
And it may sound strange
But we will not change

You may wish to chastise me
For my mental instability
And with that, I must agree
But we are ALL insane

My concerns are legitimate
With poverty millions are intimate
But you scoff, “Let’s not get into it.”
And dismiss it as inane

Let them die
They are no better than animals
Let them die
This is not our concern
We won’t try
Survival of the cleverest
So let them die
We will never learn

Let them die
Bleeding hearts mean nothing to us
Let them die
Only we deserve to live
We won’t try
Survival of the evilest
So let them die
We are unwilling to give

SURVIVAL!!!

PS: To all conservatives/rebublicans/right-wingers/etc. This is not meant to be a slight against your views and opinions, so please keep the liberal bashing at a minimal. If you feel inclined to respond to my lyrics because they offend you, please do so with a poem or lyrics of your own. I'm interested to see what will come up :cool: .

All my poems are on my other computer at home, I wrote this one a few days ago.

Given the chance I'd take apart the world and make it mine
I'd mold it and craft it with care and time
These people are ants and know nothing outside the colony
I will give them sight and force them to believe
Believe that the painful truth is more potent than a humble lie
I'll lift them up and show them how to fly
But who am I to decide right and wrong, to feel this way
For all I am is an insignifigant minority

All my poems are on my other computer at home, I wrote this one a few days ago.

Given the chance I'd take apart the world and make it mine
I'd mold it and craft it with care and time
These people are ants and know nothing outside the colony
I will give them sight and force them to believe
Believe that the painful truth is more potent than a humble lie
I'll lift them up and show them how to fly
But who am I to decide right and wrong, to feel this way
For all I am is an insignifigant minority

Wow, that was bleak...I love it! :D

This was one of my first poems...I had a facsination with Nordic lore :D

O how I admire those who stand alone
Those who carry all their own
The person who fights and dies
A simple life clear from lies
Behind their cold and bitter stare
Stands alone a person worthy of prayer
Above all else they hold their pride
To which they shall never cast aside
And when the end has come and they are all alone
Toward Valhalla they shall roam
Where the gods and heros of ancient lore await
For the person who stood alone

I have become of those who stand alone
Those who carry all their own
I wish to fight and die
So the pain might subside
Behind my cold and bitter stare
Stands a child frightened and scared
Above all else I have held my pride
Trying to subtle the pain inside
And when the end has come and I am all alone
It is Midgard I shall roam
Where no one waits with open arms
For the person who stood alone

I was one of those who stood alone
Those who carried all their own
I fought alone and watched her die
All wasted on my foolish pride
I had lost the one who made me whole
She who tried to save my soul
Like a derelict I stood on my own
Rejected her and all I've known
When the fateful day had arrived
Upon which she bravely died
For the person who stood alone

I am one of those who stands alone
Wandering Midgard all my own
Trying to warn those like you
That which I already knew
Don't stand alone because no one can
It takes friends and a guiding hand
To gain we most also lose
And it is your pride that you must choose
For if you don't and hear my tone
You shall stand and die all alone

:eek: Whoa, that was pretty damn good. We need more people to reply dammit! I love this stuff!

Much as I crave attention, the only poetry I've written is too personal to be shared in a forum.

Since the thread doesn't seem to be going too well, here's another song by me (which I just wrote whilst working).

It is called "Just Like You"

This is for those of us who feel nothing but pain
For those that are rejected and labled insane
I'm here with you, I know your plight
I'm here with you, I'll join your fight
Because, like you, I have nothing to lose and nothing to gain

This is for troubled teens, brimming with angst
For the eccentric philanthropist who recieves little thanks
I am here, I'm crazy too
My mind is broken, just like you
Just another number in your ranks

Dejected, rejected, with insanity we are infected
I am just like you
Depression, recession, can you feel our connection?
I am just like you

This is for the recluse who never leaves his room
For the junky who is injecting her doom
I'm here for you, you're not alone
I'm here for you, my flesh and bone
The end will come painlessly soon

This is for the friendless who take their own lives
For those who can't connect and just wish to die
I'm here with you, don't be rash
I want to help you avoid your crash
We can do this together, give it a try

Our hearts sob, our minds throb, this world is so macabre
I am just like you
We are living in a daze, reality shrouded in haze
I am just like you

Do not dismiss us
You too can be like us

Like us

Like me

Okay, this is the last post of my stuff (what do I have to do to get you guys to share your creations?).

This one is a poem called "The Ghast" (which I also just wrote). It's a lot less depressing than the last two submissions, so I hope this is the catalyst to get you guys posting.

My father told me a tale of old
Of champions brave and heros bold
And a land whose name is lost in the past
And a horrible creature called the Ghast

The legend told of a horde of gold
A king's riches for his soul was sold
When his kingdom died and became a wasteland vast
The damned ruler became the Ghast

The Ghast was ruthless, cruel and cunning
A living corpse with fluids running
Out of it's flesh, rotten with decay
Feeding off the flesh of adventurers slain

Forever its treasure it will stoicly guard
Every last coin and crystal shard
And woe befall the hero bold
Who lays his hands on the Ghast's gold

The legend also told of a maiden fair
With silver eyes and golden hair
Whose skill with bow and arrow did stand
Atop the best marksmen of the land

The the nameless land she did quest
To put the horrible Ghast to rest
And lay claim to it's endless wealth
So her land may live forever in good health

She let fly an arrow three times blessed
Which found it's mark in the Ghast's chest
It screamed and howled with a start
And collapsed with the holy projectile in its heart

The maiden cheered, she had won!
Her quest for riches was now done
She looted the nameless land so vast
And left empty the coffers of the Ghast

But suddenly she began to change
She became a creature foul and strange
"What witchcraft is this?!" the maiden burst
For the horde of the Ghast was still cursed

The Ghast still lives to this day
And sometimes you can hear the adventurers say
That at the nameless border stood there
The stoic Ghast with its golden hair

We should hold a poetry competition - I'm sure it'd bring out the muse in us all.

We should hold a poetry competition - I'm sure it'd bring out the muse in us all.

I whole-heartedly agree! Up with creativity! Down with....um, un-creativity!

I think I posted it before, but here's one inspired by The Lord of the Rings:


Eowyn

Beautiful, peerless
Proud and so fearless
Lady of Rohan
Forever you'll go on
Fiercely protecting
Your kin and your king.
Tears in your heart
You stand at his guard
Facing the horror
Shaking in terror
You slay the black foe,
Fulfilling your vow.
Free in the end
Soul no longer hemmed
You're greeting your death,
The cold and dark rest
The escape from your bonds,
Joyfull with open arms.

You embrace the shadow,
You fall and you flow.
The witch king is falling,
Your brother is calling
Your name, you can’t hear him
Your soul’s nowhere near him
But drifting away -
Your last, final day.


Oh Lady of Rohan
The darkness is cold
But whatever it holds
Is a blessing to you,
So lonely and true,
Your bonds fin’lly broken
Your freedom has woken
You've found your escape,
The night without wake

Mind Sickness, should we then? We could start a thread called 'NS Poetry Competition', and set a deadline of say a week, and then give a cookie to the winner.

... and, well, there's this one here, but that's in German. Apologies to all who don't speak the language.


Ich umarme leere Luft
Ich dreh mich und schaue
Der Raum ist leer und schweigt
Und niemand der mich ruft

Licht und Dunkel, Tag und Nacht
Ich warte, hoffe, zweifle, sehne
Das unaussprechliche zu sagen
Ich fürchte seine Macht

Die Macht, mich zu zerbrechen,
Mein Leben, Wesen, Sein
Mir alles das zu nehmen,
Ich fuerchte meine Schwächen

You know what? Lets do it! I'll be offline for approximately half an hour whilst I travel from work to home. You and I and someone else can be the judges (so we won't be able to enter). Go ahead and start without me.

Ok, I'll do it.

All I wanna do

All I wanna do is drink beer all day,
All I wanna do is drink beer all night,
I wanna drink beer every day,
Until I’m fully satisfied

Early morning or afternoon
I wake, the throbbing of my head
Confused I look around the room
And thank the Lord it’s my own bed

There are some bottles on the floor
Which is mine, I do not know
So I let them all flow into my throat
All the beer is far from cold

I stink of beer and smoke and beer
I shed a tear for all that waste
I lick my shirt, it’s drenched in beer
A lot of dirt and that wondrous taste

Oi, you feckin’ ****, watch it!
Are your eyes are still half asleep?
You knocked over my beer ya shit
Asshole, wanker, monkey, dweep

Just lyrics I write btw. Here's one in dialect


Ontsmetal

Ik droog altied alles in ‘t zwart
En sleep gaer in ein doëdskis
Met de meziek ultrahard
En ik stonk biëstig hel nao vis

Cradle of Filth en Dimmu Borgir
Dao headbangde ik gaer op
En trashe en moshe en nog miër
Maar op ein moment zei mam stop

Dich motte ze ontsmetalle
Vur desse een drumstel wels
Vur desse tiejens het stagedive vels
Motte ze dich ontsmetalle

De goudvis, Beëlzeblub zien naam
Heij ik geofferd aan Satan
Dae heij ik met een volle maan
Gebakke in ein mega groëte pan

Dich motte ze ontsmetalle
Vur desse lellike vrouwluu meijbrings
Vur desse dageliks liters blood drinks
Motte ze dich ontsmetalle

Enne liter verkesblood per daag
Det dronk ik mekkelik op
Gaef mich maar blood in de maag
Want den ken ik mier kuukes op

Dich motte ze ontsmetalle
Vur desse d’n honk oopriets
Vur desse dien polse doorsnieds
Motte ze dich ontsmetalle

Metal det waas toch vur gays
Of asse vels op lellike detse
Asse in de metalscene bis gewees
Den velt d’r as gezonge hetero
Wied te weinig te ketse

Mich hebbe ze ontsmetald
Vur det ik in de hel terech kwaam
Vur ik begos met ein band met latiense naam
Hebbe ze mich ontsmetald

Gruenberg/Mind Sickness Lyrical Enterprises present:

The (totally unofficial) NS Poetry Competition!

- Any length of poem is allowed (but be sensible - no Iliads).
- Enter as many poems as you want (but again, be sensible - if your tenth one isn't any good, it's unlikely the eleventh will be).
- Any style, subject - but don't use them to flame people (e.g. no 'Noobistan smells' sonnets - it's not clever. Incidentally, apologies if Noobistan actually exists - I'm sure (s)he is positively fragrant.)
- Sorry, English only. Foreign language poems can be entered, but cannot win the main prizes.

Prizes:
Best sonnet (Petrarchan or otherwise)
Best limerick
Best haiku

Best political poem
Best romantic poem
Best comedic poem

Best poem by a young person (under 15 - please don't lie)
Best poem in English by someone whose first language is not English (again, please don't lie)
Best poem in a foreign language

OVERALL GRAND PRIZE

Poems may win more than one category; honourable mentions may also be issued; special prizes may be further awarded.

Judges:
Mind Sickness
Gruenberg
Pure Metal

Notes:
1. Not endorsed by NationStates.
2. DO NOT CHEAT. We will find out if your poem has been plagiarised. Please be honest.
3. The judges' decision is final. Calm down if you didn't win - we're not experts.
4. Please submit something - you can't win otherwise!

Deadline:
10pm (PST), Thursday, 1st September, 2005. Entries after this will not be considered - any posts edited after this will be discounted.

Right, I've got no idea where this fits in but here goes:

I'm free to go.
But not
to leave.
I'm too old for the sub15 club...

I am no poet
I am writing a haiku
It probably sucks

Thanks to both! I'll assume you aren't eligible for special categories unless you state otherwise.

i'd love to be a judge but i'm too lazy to read through probably any more than 5 or 6 poems :P


my first entry then (if people reckon this is half decent i have perhaps 2 others i think are worth submitting fyi)



In the land of Elendale


Once upon a time
in a land of old,
an ancient story
– a tale was told,
of a young boy
who lived by the sword;
honour and valour his virtues,
the truth his word.
An orphan by three,
no land to live by
he set on a quest
to make those die
who had slain his parents
in the land of Elendale.


Brought up by bears
and raised as one
he had no worldly cares
but to see his quest done;
this is all he wished.
To rid the land of the evil foe
and to avenge his parents death,
this and this alone did he know;
for it is written in folklore:
to kill the tyrant and evil Lord,
a strike to his heart must go,
handle deep must be the sword,
and the bearer must be
he, who an orphan by three,
had his parents wrongly slain;
such is it written
in he land of Elendale.


Upon his travels he met a mage
whose wisdom told him this truth:
“you must hasten the pace of the story,” said the mage
“if you are to fit it on only one page.”
The boy met many more peoples on his way,
and folded them to his company;
under his banner they did stay,
and the boy became a man.
Travelling the lands by day,
sleep and make merry at night;
His enemies, seeing the banner unfurl
would feel dismay and fright,
regardless of their numbers or strength
they would flee rather than fight.
One by one the evil flew
in the land of Elendale.


Many years went past
and an evil curse was cast
on the man from Elendale.
Fell deadly ill he did,
and his body turned nightshade blue,
but no evil could break friends apart,
and his company did stay true.
They sought the enemy sorcerer
and whence they found her, her body they did slew,
and the mage reversed the curse
until all was well again
in the land of Elendale.

And the final chapter endeth thus:
a great battlefield, the air thick with dust;
One side, the enemy, the other
the army of the man from Elendale.
Facing such great a foe,
his men – they began to quail.
But giving them strength this they did know:
their courage and strength came not from the sword or chain-mail,
but from the power and honour of friendship;
regardless of race, creed, colour or kinship,
the enemy would never win if this they kept true.


In the land of Elendale, when the dust settled,
and the sun sank in the sky, and the field,
stained blood-red receded into darkness
and out of living memory,
the boy from Elendale
was revenged and vindicated.
They may all be dead now,
but their friendships and actions
live on in this tale,
far away from the land of Elendale.




by me 1st November 2002.



edit: damn none of my poems are political, romantic or comedic :headbang:

Thanks to both! I'll assume you aren't eligible for special categories unless you state otherwise.Well, German is my first language. But then again, so is English... :D
So I assumed I wasn't eligible for that category either.

Best non-english

Ontsmetal

Ik droog altied alles in ‘t zwart
En sleep gaer in ein doëdskis
Met de meziek ultrahard
En ik stonk biëstig hel nao vis

Cradle of Filth en Dimmu Borgir
Dao headbangde ik gaer op
En trashe en moshe en nog miër
Maar op ein moment zei mam stop

Dich motte ze ontsmetalle
Vur desse een drumstel wels
Vur desse tiejens het stagedive vels
Motte ze dich ontsmetalle

De goudvis, Beëlzeblub zien naam
Heij ik geofferd aan Satan
Dae heij ik met een volle maan
Gebakke in ein mega groëte pan

Dich motte ze ontsmetalle
Vur desse lellike vrouwluu meijbrings
Vur desse dageliks liters blood drinks
Motte ze dich ontsmetalle

Enne liter verkesblood per daag
Det dronk ik mekkelik op
Gaef mich maar blood in de maag
Want den ken ik mier kuukes op

Dich motte ze ontsmetalle
Vur desse d’n honk oopriets
Vur desse dien polse doorsnieds
Motte ze dich ontsmetalle


Metal det waas toch vur gays
Of asse vels op lellike detse
Asse in de metalscene bis gewees
Den velt d’r as gezonge hetero
Wied te weinig te ketse

Mich hebbe ze ontsmetald
Vur det ik in de hel terech kwaam
Vur ik begos met ein band met latiense naam
Hebbe ze mich ontsmetald

Aristotlean logic haiku:

All rabbits are green
Jonathan is a rabbit
Jonathan is green

Laerod, for the moment I'll exclude you from that category because in general your English is so good. If we get few entrants, I'll put you back. Hope that's ok.

PM, thanks for the poem - please do submit more, as this looks good. You can be a judge if you want - let me know if you're a definite yes. And don't worry, poems don't need to be political, comedic or romantic: those are just special categories.

hmmm this line intrigues me :p

Metal det waas toch vur gays

LP, what language is that? We will need to find someone who speaks it, obviously.

hmmm this line intrigues me :p
I'll translate that bit

"Metal turned out to be for gays
Or if you like ugly chicks
If you've ever been in the Metalscene
Then you know that as a healthy heterosexual
There's awfully little shagable"

LP, what language is that? We will need to find someone who speaks it, obviously.
It's my local dialect, so good luck with that.

(Limburg, Holland)

Right. Well, thanks for contributing. I know some Dutch people, so I'll have to ask around.

i have quite a few poems, but all of them are pretty old. and no one wants to read my favorite, a 360 line long iambic tritameter (sp?). 8 sylables per line, every two lines rhyming, 45 paragraphs of 8 lines. and the only other ones i'm fine with people seeing are ones that i've put on poetry.com...

It's fine to link to poems hosted at off-site fiction sites - but please link to the poems themselves, rather than JUST the site. And you can submit a 360-line one if you want.

Laerod, for the moment I'll exclude you from that category because in general your English is so good. If we get few entrants, I'll put you back. Hope that's ok.I have two first languages, that's the thing. My English is slightly better than my German, actually (but both are fluent).
I can't really be eligible for that category. ;)

It's my local dialect, so good luck with that.

(Limburg, Holland)I can read it just as well as I can read normal Dutch... :D

I'll translate that bit

"Metal turned out to be for gays
Or if you like ugly chicks
If you've ever been in the Metalscene
Then you know that as a healthy heterosexual
There's awfully little shagable"

I think your poem is prettier when it is in a language I don't understand.

Oh, ok - thanks. And as long as Dutch-speakers can read it, it won't be a problem.

I can read it just as well as I can read normal Dutch... :D
The dialect is somewhat close to German

And Spatalia: it's just for fun. It's supposed to be the lyrics for a funpunk band I'm in. Don't play it though.......not yet

I can read it just as well as I can read normal Dutch... :D

Same here! And my swahili is equally good. ;)

I think we should agree on a deadline. I'm thinking next Thursday, 10:00 pm (I'm not quite sure of the name of my time zone, but it's the same as Toronto). What say you Gruenberg?

Same here! And my swahili is equally good. ;)Nah, I suck at swahili. Dutch is in the same branch of German languages that the dialect spoken where my grandparents live is in. The main difference between German and Dutch is the accent and what letters mean what pronounciation.

Ok, let's go for 10pm PST, next Thursday, 1st September. I'll edit the first post.

Yay for people being able to read it! :D

I think we should agree on a deadline. I'm thinking next Thursday, 10:00 pm (I'm not quite sure of the name of my time zone, but it's the same as Toronto). What say you Gruenberg?Name the deadline in GMT (with out DST corrections). Makes it easier for everyone to understand. ;)

Automaton

There was a time
When life was mine
And when my heart
Was of my own creation

But now I find
I've lost my mind
There's no escape
For my imagination

Somehow I hide
Myself inside
I hear my voice
But a stranger is talking

It's never me
Who could I be
I should be free
But something's stopping me


(Still watching; never acting; now I'm falling; but there's no stopping)


And of my soul
I've lost control
Am I of this world
Or have I been dreaming

Am I alive
Or have I died
Is there a pulse
Tell me I am still breathing

Why has it come
This deception
I see the truth
But the truth has been lying

So what I see
Means nothing to me
I should be free
But I'm still watching me


(Still laughing; while still crying; now I'm dying; but there's no stopping)

Ok, this is my poem... I hope you like it. It's based on a story I was going to write but never got around to...

"Wisdom of the Dragons"

The Wisdom of the Dragons
A Knowledge once sought
What lies beyound the Barrier?
Besides the wars still fought?

This question haunts the Dragons’ sleep
The answer they can’t find
But one Dragon knows above all
He is of Lightning kind.

He created us, the Dragyte
With powers unseen then
He made us the Protectors
Of Dragons and of Men.

But centuries before this Time
When Men and Dragon dwelled
In sweet peace and good harmony
Soon broken by a Spell.

The bindings of a Monster broke
And night replaced the day
Evil roamed free and all were plagued
The War started this way

Though long the enemy has slept
In memories and dreams
His battles we still fight today
Spells forgotten, it seems.

Only when Earth returns to Ice
And Fire kills the frost
When Water chokes the burning flames
Shall Lightning reign again.

Good? Bad? Weird? Please tell me!! :( :D

OK... I call this

TRAGICALLY SAD HAIKU IN THREE VERSES BY AN OVER 15 YEAR OLD ENGLISH SPEAKING WORLD LEADER

I've been here for days.
My Nation grows no larger.
Despondent, I wait.

An Issue I see!
The answers are all quite odd.
Dismiss? Or choose wrong?

My people are nude.
They smoke pot and share organs.
For freedom will reign.

I think 10pm PST=6am GMT. That's without daylight savings.

I'll translate that bit

"Metal turned out to be for gays
Or if you like ugly chicks
If you've ever been in the Metalscene
Then you know that as a healthy heterosexual
There's awfully little shagable"
lmao too true :p
....except for the gays part http://www.ironmaiden.org/images/smilies/eyes.gif


edit: and except for Glitz, she's a babe :fluffle: ;)

lmao too true :p
....except for the gays part http://www.ironmaiden.org/images/smilies/eyes.gif
No offence meant of course :fluffle:

OK, I have three entries, then.

The first is a sonnet.
the second and third do not necessarily follow a specific format in the sense that they are not, for example, limericks or haikus. Please note that, while the first two are authored by me...the third is by a friend who does not have a nation on NS.

Anyway, here goes...

Poem #1
Rapunzel, Let Down Your Hair

There was a maiden, full of grace
Locked away in hardened place
Forced to wear a mask by day
Face within was locked away
Trapped within this clumsy beast
Her self will soon become deceased
Light of life, she'll never see
Imprisoned by society
Identity, failing to be found
Rapunzel chained and gagged and bound
Secret longing to reach her goal
By showing all, her inner soul
But alas, her fate is sealed
Within this form of man, concealed.

Poem #2
Hermit Crab

As a hermit crab, does she dwell
Safe within a borrowed shell
Here, she lives in fear
Of the outside world
She feels so near

She exists here, all alone
Only home she's ever known
Fearing what she'll find
Danger lies ahead
Safety left behind

No longer confined, free at last
All her doubts now in the past
Free now to explore
All the places
She feared before.

Poem #3
Judgement

I lived my life full of the Lord, at least that's what I thought
I taught my kids how to live so they would suffer naught.
I fell to my knees and fasted and I prayed
Took my family and friends to church on Sabbath day
I thought myself a soldier in the army of Our Lord
And knew I'd be rewarded once He tallied the score

Yet men had misinterpreted the Word of Our Father
And led me to despise what I JUDGED to be fodder.
The abortionists, the wretched, the lesbians and gays
Yea even the transsexuals, why surely they would PAY!!

I didn't know it then but I'd took Jesus' place
I had forgotten Our Father's Gift of Grace
My heart remained unchanged throughout my life
Outwardly benevolent, yet inward hid a knife

At last it was my time to go and ashes turned to dust
Then I heard the trumpet sound, Christ came back as he must
The book of life he read from, and the names I had despised
Suprisingly were written there and they were given LIFE
As the last one standing I stood before our Lord
He said, "I cannot find your name here son, die by your own sword."

There's my three entries.

No offence meant of course :fluffle:
none taken old chap ;)

Thanks to all entrants. We still need one more judge - unless PM decides to go for it.

Best poem by a young person (under 15 - please don't lie)


oh! *raises hand* I'm under 15! :D Yay people under 15, lol (but no offense to people over 15.... you're still cool! :cool: )

Thanks to all entrants. We still need one more judge - unless PM decides to go for it.
yeah why not, i'll do my best :)
though i'm not here tomorrow at all i warn you (maybe in the evening)

A series of haikus about seasons:

Spring time brings rebirth
And plants and animals too
Beauty has triumphed

Summer is now come
Family trips together
And lots of swimming

I feel a cool breeze
And know it is now autum
Leaves fall from the trees

Winter has arived
And snow blankets the houses
Snowmen all around

I'm 15 so I don't think I count in the kids one

Ok, thanks PM!

Ok, thanks PM!
:fluffle: no problem


*judges own poems to be teh w1n*

*eats all the cookies*

:D

I'd like to deny all rumours of biscuit-product-related corruption on the NSPC judging panel.

*cough points at the evidence (http://forums2.jolt.co.uk/showpost.php?p=9516805&postcount=41) cough*


blah, will subit more in a bit... bbl

I'd like to deny all rumours of biscuit-product-related corruption on the NSPC judging panel.
That's what you get for accepting metalheads on the jury :rolleyes:

I must state that anything writen in a language other than English will need to be translated for me (damn my monoligualism!) and I also will not be available every day (for example, on Saturday evening I'm getting drunk with a friend I haven't seen in a year or so).

I also have a couple of suggestions (if either of you have already thought of these, sorry):

1. We should each save each entry with the names and categories on our comps. Just in case the thread gets to big to navigate efficiantly (being on a 56k this is a big problem for me).

2. We should all meet online (MSN messanger, an NS region, or just through the forum) either after 10:00 pm next Thursday, or sometime on Friday to discuss our judgely decisions.

One of my later poems, a tad more optimistic than the others :)


On devoted feet I search for her
The girl I love, yet to be uncovered
I know she's out there waiting for me
Too far to reach, too far to see
With open arms we will meet
The moment so beautiful, so triumphantly sweet
Without her I am missing my soul
Where is the one who can make me whole

When it rains I'll be outside calling you
Calling toward a love, I know is true
I know not where nor when we shall meet
For love's guiding hand is truly discreet
If I am a fool, and it is you I go without
Than it is my life I shall doubt
I will crawl away, and die in fears
Lost in a cascade of sorrowful tears

Should fate be so generous
And relieve me of this task so onerous
I will stay beside you until I can longer stand
Legs weary, of weight's terrible demand
When that day comes, I must admit
Beside you, I shall sit
Until the stars fade away, and the earth has died
I'll be with you, at your side

When we die, and at the gates we meet
Fate's hand might not perform such a horrible feat
For if we are torn, I in heaven and you in hell
Then it is heaven I will sell
And as I am stripped of my wings, and burned at the skin
You are waiting there within
For anywhere with you is truely home
And together, unregrettingly, it is hell we shall roam

But here I stand, cold and afraid
Wondering, when, is our fateful day
I still know that you are out there
Waiting for your man, with that beautiful stare
Until that day comes and we remain alone
Searching for you is my only home
On waiting wings you stand
Waiting for your loving man

I can't believe I'm actually posting these :p

MS: great idea. I'll go set up a forum. But I have msn too - I'll TG you my address.

I don't know which category this would go into.

What Every Mother Wants
A tastefully decorated room,
In which to die among strangers.
A thoughtfully placed bed,
In which to lie; to restrain her.
A scenic Summer view,
Which makes her cry in the Winter.
A barely read novel,
That won't insult or enrage her.

A son who takes the time,
To call when guilt sets in.
A daughter and grandchild,
Who will shed her like dead skin.
A picture of her youth,
To remind her of delicious sin.
The gentle satin-silk embrace,
Her last breath will dissolve in.


---


This one is "political", I guess. It's about bombings of Hiroshima and Nagasaki in '45.

Minutes Falling

Soleil! Soleil!
Smoke out the imprints of peace,
All thoughts are raped... are seized.
Over bent necks from cowering eyes.
Killed the trees.

Silence! Silence!
Drown out the plight of leaves,
Falling upwards in twos...threes.
For the living true 'til death.
Killed the breed.

Le ciel! Le ciel!
She breathes sighs of grief,
Gracing earth with fire... roars.
To minutes from once mighty ants.
Killed a thread.

Arrêt! Arrêt!
Madness choking on a battle,
Chewing oil and burning...words.
These letters dissolve an hour.
Killed a tongue.

Soleil! Soleil!
All remains buried underneath,
Grey cries in belief...and die.
The light which darkens every stone.
Killed us all.

---

I'd call this "romantic".

Little Kids

There were little kids playing
In the park this morning
Running around with their hands
On their faces, having a fight
Making similar gestures
Falling down and laughing too
I was amused but she found it boring
I can't remember where it was
Or who said it best
I don't care if I'm wearing
The wrong shoes, shocking the waitress
By complimenting the chef's wife's hair.

We sat by the café window
Watching the people walk by
I tried to joke but she was asking
Me all sorts of personal questions
Where I go, what I do, who I see
If I don't care for food or drink,
Or going to plays at the theatre
Or even get on with famous patrons
What do I enjoy doing anyway?

"If you take many pictures
But you don't sell them
If you write lots of poems
And nobody reads them
If you wrote a song would anyone care?"
I got the feeling she wanted an answer
I thought for a moment and replied,
"I like watching kids play in the park."


I hope y'all enjoyed my poetry.

Romantic Poem
--On Waiting Wings--


On devoted feet I search for her
The girl I love, yet to be uncovered
I know she's out there waiting for me
Too far to reach, too far to see
With open arms we will meet
The moment so beautiful, so triumphantly sweet
Without her I am missing my soul
Where is the one, who can make me whole

When it rains I'll be outside calling you
Calling toward a love, I know is true
I know not where nor when we will meet
For love's guiding hand, is indeed discreet
If I am a fool, and it is you I go without
Than it is my life I will doubt
I will crawl away, and die in fears
Lost in a cascade, of sorrowful tears

Should fate be so generous
And relieve me of this task so onerous
I will stand beside you until I cannot stand
Legs weary, of weight's terrible demand
When that day comes, I must admit
Beside you, I shall sit
Until the stars fade away, and the earth has died
I'll be with you, at your side

When we die, and at the gates we meet
Fate's hand might not perform such a horrible feat
For if we are torn, I in heaven and you in hell
Then it is heaven I will sell
And as I am stripped of my wings, and burned at the skin
You are waiting there within
For anywhere with you is truely home
And together, unregrettingly, it is hell we shall roam

But here I stand, cold and afraid
Wondering, when, is our fateful day
I still know that you are out there
Waiting for your man, with that beautiful stare
Until that day comes and we remain alone
Searching for you is my only home
On waiting wings you stand
Waiting for your loving man

"I am sane"
by Amerigo


I see those scarecrow plastic eyes
And I will rise! And I will rise

But what is wrong with your own brain
You try in vain to cure my pain
But all you ever do is gain
And say again!
"You are insane! You are insane"
But I am sane
The world's not sane

You're just another penguin in your igloo of hate
Oh you're just another penguin in your igloo of hate

Are you all blind? Why won't you see?
You all live in history
I live in present! Yes siree
You pay your fee
Debauchery
And treachery
And I am free
And I am me
And I am me

You're just another penguin in your igloo of hate
Oh you're just another penguin in your igloo of hate

I see the world as it is
I do not call it mine or his
And you all miss
The screaming true
You are not you
You are not you

You're just another penguin in your igloo of hate
Oh you're just another penguin in your igloo of hate

But why you label the flying whale
You can not sail
Over the rail
In to the hail
Where
bedposts wail

I see all sorts of pretty things
I hear them smell
with witty wings
I taste a tree in hollow rings
I feel the
falls, the springs
But you're not kings

You're all just penguins in that igloo of hate

You will someday realize
Your own demise
Your own demise

No hope for your society!
But I am free
But I am free

Thank you to all entrants. Still plenty of time for more people to enter.

This is my first draft for an ode to nationstates.

I lie in bed with my face buried well
The pillow comforts my recent hell
My ideas were simple and spoken plainly
My ideas that spoke out against Cheney
All backed by a decent source
But Newb36 laughed and hoarsed:
"US Bestest big time 4 word"
A statement that is beyond absurd
Yet the others nodded and said:
"Luporum's a commie, bring us his head!"
So I retreated and cursed that damned thread

Abortion, a women's right?
Sounded like a noble fight
I entered and camly spoke
"A women's right we shall not revoke!"
But the Christian Conserative moved in quick
And Luporum's ass was thoroughly kicked
Not by a sensible debate with a cite
But by the bible and the religious right
So I turned, tucked my tail, and fled
Cursing that wretched thread

The General Forum is a fickle mistress
Brilliant notions are immediatly missed
Yet I lay at night and wonder why
I'm not online to give it another try

All of these can be entered into the NS Poetry Competition.

i have quite a few poems, but all of them are pretty old. and no one wants to read my favorite, a 360 line long iambic tritameter (sp?). 8 sylables per line, every two lines rhyming, 45 paragraphs of 8 lines. and the only other ones i'm fine with people seeing are ones that i've put on poetry.com...

hey, Harai, i don't know if you're aware of this, but poetry.com is a scam. and it's not the only one out there, although poetry.com and Noble House are the only ones i know of so far. once i found out about this one, i was too upset to do much research, and i'm still a little skittish about it, but i did find this one website that talks about it, it might be helpful to you: http://www.writersweekly.com/warnings/poetry.html
my advice to you is to remove any poems you have posted on poetry.com, and to pass the warning on to anyone else you encounter who has poems on this site.

I'd like to reinforce that. poetry.com should be avoided. I prefer FictionPress, personally, although it's a little Nazi-ish about ratings.

MS: great idea. I'll go set up a forum. But I have msn too - I'll TG you my address.
i too use msn... however a seperate forum might be good for collating all the different poems for the different categories, and just correlating them all together in general (weeding out the comment posts... like this one ;))

forumer (http://www.forumer.com/) are pretty good, easy to set up and free

Hm. This seems fun.. I'll post the only poem I wrote that I've ever liked for more than two seconds. (A minor warning; there are two swear words in it. Iunno how that will be handled.)

Funny (In a Cosmic Sort of Way)
Standing here
Looking at the sky
I can't help but wonder why
Anyone, even an Almighty
Would want to live up there
Nothing exciting happens
The action's all down here
But I'm not supposed to enjoy it--

Angry mobs of beggars that choose
Think they can win and never lose
Wasting their lives trying to buy
Their way into the kingdom in the sky

Those bastards think it's funny
How people like me
Can see the land of milk and honey
Down here on good ol' terra firma
Instead of in the stars
Where we think you are
We can't consider ourselves perfect
We only see the flaws
We make laws
We break laws
We fight
We smite
We enjoy to destroy
And we do it in your name
We have to shift the blame
To the guy with the horns
That was borne
Of our own failings
We can't deal with our own shit
I wouldn't blame you if you didn't wanna deal with it

All this messed up stuff
It's just a bunch of fluff
Designed to make us feel better about ourselves
But it never really works
All it does is make you wonder--
Can it get any worse?
Which is the exact opposite of what it should make you think:
Can it get any better?
Think about it
Don't let life get you down
Things eventually come up
Carpe diem--Seize the day
Remember that there's always a way
And when you fall
There will al-
Ways be someone else to pick you up again
And when there's no one left to do it,
You're dead
You're done
You've come
You've gone
You lived
You laughed
And I hope that you learned
That life isn't a series of failures
It's a series of chances
If you fail, you learn and you do it right next time
And if you don't you get another chance down the line
So for everyone out there who only sees the stars
Take a second to look around you at where you are
Stop striving to touch a star--you'll only get burned
Instead just for a second
Live, laugh, and learn.



Oh, and Amerigo? I love your poem. The phrase "another penguin in your igloo of hate" makes me giggle like the lunatic I am.

The Wave

We're in the wave of humankind
Among the populations
And while we live our era through
On flow the generations

We are the small amounts of water
Standing still in time
While moving with our energy
The wave of humankind

Any poetic takes on today's tragedy? Any sonnets celebrating the brave mods? Any haikus about masturbation?

Still time to enter.

Under 15, english not first language, better at stories than poems.

Moderators-

Frissbertia eats cake,
while Myrth losses weight.

[Violet] has a piece,
and Sirocco joins the feast.

Zest Fully Clean

Is like my queen

and peaches and cream

on the same team

if you know what I mean

as I bake a bean

like one you've never seen

and I donate my splean....

I don't really know which category this fits into... It's kind of emo, sorry about that. I'm usually not like this - I swear! Anyway, I'm submitting a sestina (you know, with the repeating words in a set order) I wrote for a Creative Writing class. I don't really like it... but oh well.

Obsession with Unreality

Birthdays later, she’s all alone.
The gossip says it’s her fault,
But she knows her destruction began
The day she witnessed something perfect.
Slow drowning of her every dream
Was her downfall in the draining years,

Watching unraveling years
Tear to pieces alone.
No one there to comfort a broken dream.
How can she still love the man at fault?
But can she blame him for being perfect,
Her thoughts always drifting to how it began?

Walking in the room, he began
Spilling out the knowledge of years,
So confident and kindhearted, so perfect.
How could she ever stand to be alone
When she’d seen him? That’s her fault
But also her never-ending dream.

Even yesterday he was in her dream,
The romantic one that began
On a first date and ended without a fault:
A marriage, lasting forever plus some years.
Never in her life would she have to be alone,
And she became radiant, fulfilled, perfect.

But waking up, she knew she’d never be perfect
Like the man she’s so deeply in love with, almost a dream.
She knows she’ll always end up alone,
Because no one else compares since he and she began.
She’ll plot out her lonely years
Searching for a soul like his, without fault.

Too learned, too handsome, it’s all his fault.
Time passes and she hates him for being perfect.
She stumbles over the rocky years
In a haze, or in a dream.
She doesn’t know when her anger began,
But she’s tired of being alone.

But, is it really her fault? Who can live in a dream
Where nothing can compare? Perfect and innocent it all began
Now it's just an equation where the only answer is to be alone for all the years.

I'd post my limerick about current events (since 2001), but since it's 6 pages long and in Cantonese, I'd better not. :D

One of my new ones. Wow, six pages, good job Dragon's Bay :)

Summers Long

Everyday is a great day to die
Free from responsiblity and the lies
When I became a man I did not know
The best of times were now out grown
It snuck up and came so fast
My childhood is dead, gone and past
I envy the days of summers long
When there was a world that I belonged

Now here I sit in my cramped college dorm
Admiring my bodies form
A collection of muscles and might
And a mind set to what is right
Yet there is something missing, one thing undone
I am devoid of life and what was fun
Innocence is a road travelled by the lonely few
A road I walk, A path I fell right into

Before I left my friends of years
We made our ends with little tears
Yet there were things unsolved
Many problems still revolved
And they will forever remain
A part of my growing pain
Before I left I checked my last e-mail
And when I looked my face turned pale
The girl I thought I loved and held so true
Decided to make our ends, to discontinue

So far from home in this bed I lay
A foriegn place, here to stay
No friends, no people to hold me when I cry
No one to feed me gentle lies
Alone, this room begins to close
The pain is unbearable but it will not show
For becoming a man means living on
So your kids may enjoy the summers long

Share your pain, share your anger, share your love, or share your laughter.

The Nation States Poetery Competition is still open for entries.

i write alot of poetry, i guess i can post a lil...

O my head
what torture youve been fed.

No wonder you lie there dead,
the disease so spread.

O my head,
apologies for the lead.

I needed to be dead,
it was over from the first he said.

O my head,
Dont blame me for this red.

I couldnt stop the dead,
no stopping the disease he led.

This is what my lips last said,
forgive me O my head.

Screaming in my head I cant take anymore of this I watch another suffering Making a life so hard No real happiness //Damn you for this pain Damn you for this cane// Im barely crawling on my own Why dont you pick me up Why dont you help us stand //Damn you for the lies Damn you for these cries// Watching my life fade away My mind just will not stay It needs to know the reason The reason your this way Watching us slip away Never coming out to save Watching this one shot dead Watching this one raped dead //Damn you for that day Damn you for those days// Why dont you carry us away You see us all this way Shivering in the cold today Holding on to a life afraid I wish i could see you face to face I would scream in your ear Yelling f*ck you for the fear f*ck you for these years Of screaming in my head I swear one day ill end up dead //Damn you for this day Damn you for my pain// I'll never be the same My mind has gone away I saw this day The day I go insane All our hurt could fade If only you would say If only you would say

Something I threw together the other day, and it´s happy, happy, happy!:

Why happy?

Why should I be happy?
What reason for joy do I have?
Is it not true that I am lonely?
Is it not true that I am sad?

Why can´t I be sad?
Why must I be happy?
Why does everyone tell me
I should be happy
when all I feel is sad?

Why shouldn´t I be sad?
What reason do I have?

Some would say my family,
But they bring me no joy

Others would claim my friends,
But they make me feel worse

Some would say my health,
But I do not feel well

Why should I be happy?
What reason for joy do I have?

<snip>

cheesecake makes me happy ;)

To keep the creative juices of NS going, here is some work of my own.
NOTE: This is NOT a submission, as a judge, I cannot enter the competition.

I Win
Blood boiling, head spinning, mind toiling, unending
What do you want from me?
Why should I care?

Hate churning, eyes seeking, veins burning, a weakling
You think you can judge me?
No, don't you dare

Follow blindly while bleating, sheep kindly are eating
The bullshit that you spew
And you target me?

We hate each other, but you make another
attemp at conversion
to make you complete

Had enough? Not yet? Am I too tough to get?
My anger is fuel for me
It throbs within

I'll be here forever, with you near but never
Able to change me
Fuck you, I win

The Boy
There once was boy
Who lived all alone
His mind was his comfort
His head was his home
Each day that passed
Was another trip in
His imagination
Made up for lost kin

His house was in shambles
He went not outside
His country sent people
To make sure he'd thrive
But quite as ever
He said not a word
He just lived in his own world
The outside unheard

But one day was different
One day he changed
And his helper had wondered
What was so strange?
The boy focused his gaze
A gave a small grin
He gutted his nurse maid
And fed from within

My love has flew
She did me dirt
Him did not know
Her was a flirt.

To those in love
Let I forbid
Lest they be dooed
Like I been did.

I win. Where is my cookie?

Wow, this is all great. Keep it coming. Perhaps odes to the beauty of the Miss NationStates contestants?

Bad poem a wrote ages ago about something I can't remember... it was meant to symbolic... i think... or did it write it because my teacher was threatening to hit me if I didn't? I can't remember... anyhow, enjoy


A lone drum beats out the call to war
A lone man walks, no need to hide
Where is there to hide?
Why hide, when all are marked now?

Fire brought to the streets
The veil of darkness creeps slowly up
Yet still the man walks on:
For where can one run now?

Glass shattered and chasms opened
Chamberlains, squawking their siren call
Darkness, now, from inside, too
The man walks on – how could he not?

Face dear the truth, see the fires
See those heralds of misfortune
All around now, no safe haven
For where is the innocent now?

Cross Section

I like to provoke thought in a senseless abyss,
I like to promote disorder in a timeless kiss.
I had a friend who died for none of the above,
I have a friend who burned because he rose as a dove.

I like to watch the trees scream their indecisions,
I like to watch the sun and moon switch positions.
I have a feeling I am going to regret.
I had a dream I'm not going to forget.

I like to stand on a motionless carousel,
I like to swim in the featureless parallel.
I had a feeling I'm likely to forget,
That I had a dream I'm willing to regret.

Burn?

You could probably burn
you computer, but not without immediate
danger to yourself.
There is a distinct richness to the
flame caused by burning paper.
And as it weeps carbon-black
slowly, slowly;
it spits and sniggers.

It's mocking you.

Even though you've burnt it the words
remain. What a foolish thing
to do. Childish, unbridled hate for an
inanimate object.
This is not logical, it does not
compute. You feel as if you're
forced to obey
a command?

You heard a voice but no
physical sound. The instant reaction to
destroy.
Blame it on instinct maybe even
boredom but we know better.
Blame everything but yourself.
Tragedy struck.

Refuse to be translated into
another fear, another
face, another dead show.
Another time, another
place. It simply won't.
A father cannot be a
child.
Consequences.

Hi All

I'm fairly new to NationStates, and I just came across this thread today. I don't know if you are looking for poetry with a particular theme, so if this doesn't fit the bill, let me know. Anyway, here it is. It's called The Pilot:

The dream begins....

She stands alone and sings
Beside the barely rippling waters
Of the cool, calm loch.
The night is black as coal,
And only a thin, crescent moon
Betrays the voice's source.
She sings of things that she has seen,
And all the places she has been.
Gradually she's joined by men and other women
All dressed like her, but singing their own songs.
They are the recorders of our history;
Their knowledge and their memory is vast.
Each night they sing what has been done that day,
They turn each day into a song.
So many days, so many million songs,
And it is said that, at the end of time,
When we have reached our final home,
They'll sing their songs for us, from first to last.
Then we will know each other's secrets.
Perhaps then we will understand
The hurts we have received
And judge less harshly those who hurt us.
Perhaps then we will feel remorse
For what we've done to others.
And then, repentance and forgiveness done,
We'll get on with enjoying our eternal life.

I miss the days with my trusty hayes,
You know the old 300 baud one.

The one line boards
Where I'd explore
For hours & days & weeks.

No IRCs or PPP's
Just sysop's prying eyes.

AOL can go straight to hell,
I am a Techno Geek !

Starry

Gaswax: no, no theme is required. It's great - thanks for your submission.

(File under Political, I guess.) :)

Season of the Missed

This is winter of compassion.
It's a season of the missed.
It's the velvet glove betrayed, the
Open hand to iron fist.

This is blind faith, riding roughshod
On our children, as they died.
It's our angels, sacrificed upon
The altar of your pride.

It's the curse of 'red redemption',
Wine to water, in the sands.
It's a mouth that's full of ashes.
It's their blood upon your hands.

This is dancing in the desert,
On the bodies of the sore.
It's the augury of profits,
In a marketplace of war.

So, don't sell, or try to tell us,
How you suffer with our pain,
When our young die, in the sun...
To serve your policy of shame.


<Anakah Anakrousis, August 2005>.

Only got until Thursday people. Let your words shine in the NS poetry competiton!

Here's another poem. I really want that cookie :confused:

OUT THERE

I sit down on a long green-painted bench.
The paint in parts is missing,
Flakes having fallen off over the years,
Or been picked off perhaps
By many generations’ fingers.
The ground below my shoes is wet with recent rain,
And the grey, foreboding clouds above
Are telling me that more will come anon.
A hazy orange glow which tinges some
Betrays the presence of the sun behind the gloom.
Afar off I can barely see
The ancient rock, that rock of legend and of myth.
It once was home to fairies, it is said,
Who danced and played their games upon its slopes.
But now the seagulls and the puffins live there.
I stare at the horizon,
And I know you’re out there somewhere,
The woman I will meet some day and love.
But will you come to me,
Or will I come to you?
Whatever may happen,
I know that we will come together some time soon
Meanwhile, the promised rain is here,
And I must find some sheltered place...

The ever-changing mind

There was a child, eyes of blue
Wisps of auburn hair askew
Under which a wandering mind
Flourished without rule or bind.

In this mind grew a stunning world
Where birds sang with wings unfurled
And sunshine kissed her every thought
So she’d never feel distraught.

And in this realm rode shining knights
To battle in epic fights
Versus the Dragons, why of course
Their hordes sought by those on horse.

Here angels sang away her doubt
Wizards roaming all about
Crystal flowers swayed at her feet
As she danced with elves so sweet.

But innocence soon has to end
Demons love such things to rend
And in the shadows of her land
Evil rose its lethal hand.

Demons hissed “Begin the games!”
Forests burned in angry flames
Storms of grief drowned out her pleasures
Greed snatched at all her treasures.

Her fearful friends ran all about
Find the queen! Quick! Get her out!
They found her resting far away
Just has night replaced the day.

Worried fairies flew round her head
“We shall hide you well!” they said
All took her to a star laced gate
Saved their queen from painful fate.

So when the evil things had past
And the night faded at last
They returned to their land thought doomed
But found a flower still bloomed.

Too many years soon came and went
Her mind grew weary and spent.
Her loyal friends would disappear
Replaced by her doubt and fear.

As flowers withered in the frost
Birds sat silent, the queen lost.
Forever shall the skies be gray
For ‘twas the land dying day.

But even in the dullest mind
Hides the queen one has to find.
A lonely child, eyes of blue
Her auburn hair all askew.


Give me a cookie...... PLEASE! :( :p

There once was a man called BUMP

I wrote this poem and published it on a website, no I did not steal it, no I am not lying, yes I own it.

=====

Our Homes,
Our Blood,
Our Crops,
Our Lives,

Our Land,
Our Fathers,
Our Mothers,
Our Brothers,

We shall risk for this land of golden sky and green apple orchard,
But why do so in this pale autumn mist?
Is it for our own personal gain we defend this land?
Our toil has produced an adult seed, from which to grow and die.

We forsake our oath for our own sake,
And break our hearts when the enemy wakes.
We risk it all for a worthless cause,
And our toil forgotten by all but time,

Putting our feelings aside, we feel nothing,
Breathe nothing, be nothing,
Pawns in an ongoing godly game of chess,
Sacrificed and endangered for their own gain.

Why we do so is a mystery yet.
Manipulated for a worthless cause,
All for personal gain...
And are we condemned for our shame?

Alas, the ones in that land of salt and sand,
Have saved themselves from the pity of gain.
An endless cycle of death and pain,
Only to end, in the end of days...

There once was a man called BUMP

was he from nantucket?

Competition closes tonight. Last chance to rise in cookie-crumb-covered, lyrical, isn't-Gruenberg-a-twattic glory.

Here's your poem: Run fast, or lose your ass!

Here's your poem: Run fast, or lose your ass!

lol, call me retarded but that reminds me of a comic bit by Sindbad back in the early 90's. He was talking about how he upset his mother and he started to run away, but his mom hit his ass and it fell off lol. he picked it up and tried to run away and his friend saw him running and said "drop your ass and run, your moms hand is coming" lol. ok, if that didnt make sense im sorry...

Judging is to commence today (as long as I can find Pure Metal and Gruenberg).

When will the winners be announced...or did I miss this?

If so, I'd like to know who the winners were.

When will the winners be announced...or did I miss this?

If so, I'd like to know who the winners were.


ditto.

And the winners are?????

No kidding... when do we find out? DO we find out?

It's not about the winning, it's about reading all the beautiful poetry.

It's not about the winning, it's about reading all the beautiful poetry.

We still wanna know who the WINNERS are!!!

It's not about the winning, it's about reading all the beautiful poetry.

No it's about the cookie!

I wanna see who gets the coveted cookie...

(The following is dedicated to several people that posted in this thread, who shall remain unnamed.)

Your Poem
By Chomskyrion

Your stupid words are organized,
Like scattered books on a bookshelf,
So horribly out-of-place and messy,
That I feel like hanging myself.

You may think that I'm merely joking,
But I am really quite sincere.
Unless you'd like to be dirt poor,
You should find a new career.

Your poetidiocy is something,
That I wish I'd never read.
If only your stanzas were people,
That I could line up and shoot dead.

Your rhyme scheme shakes like an addict,
Sleeping in a trash-filled gutter.
It reads like an illiterate child,
Unable to speak without a stutter.

The lines are like the wooden beams,
Of a home blocking my view of the sea,
That I wish I could burn to the ground,
And piss on the debris.

If you think your poem is good,
And it actually becomes highly regarded,
Then congratulations, you win.
First Prize: For Most Retarded.

I wanna see who gets the coveted cookie...

ditto

Where are the cookies? I CAME FOR THE COOKIES!

You'll have to wait for the reception afterwards. Though I believe there's an open bar somewheres around here...

You'll have to wait for the reception afterwards. Though I believe there's an open bar somewheres around here...

That dried up last week when we threw a toga party, and we have been surviving off the younger posters ever since.

Bites into a newbie poster

I, too, came for the cookies!!! Any sign of them yet? (I hope they are chocolate chip! :D )

*Having just stumbled across this thread, I find it quite interesting the wide gamut of topics and styles covered thus far. (And mildly humorous how far past the September first deadline it is) However, I understand that people get busy sometimes -hence the reason I have never been in the forums enough recemtly to see this thread in time to actually post some of my own pieces.

Good luck with the judging . . .

(And if it's not too late to enter since you're still judging I could probably dig up a few selections I wrote for the ode to NS thread as well to throw in for fun.) :cool:

These are probably not in the contest, but were fun to write at the time. Enjoy!

Ode to Nation States, ctd . . .

Meanwhile nations come and go;
With neglect their deaths are slow,
But there are those who know no fear
and by mods' wrath soon disappear.

Behavior chosen on each day
Determines who will go or stay;
Mourn not those who cannot be found
For oft' you'll find they still abound.

New names though with your sight you see,
Some reminiscent of who used to be,
With but a closer look you'll find
Those nations of a familiar kind.

Some chat in forums, some RP,
While others govern privately;
Democracy, anarchy, dictatorship too,
Socialism, Capitalism . . . which one's for you?

In NationStates there's much to decide
When in one of its regions you do reside;
If your many decisions do not work out,
Start a new puppet and try some more out.


Another installment

But those who are in the UN beware,
Only one each is allowed in there.
If beyond that you try to roam,
Someday DEATland might be your home.

Proposals to approve and votes to make
When in the UN -resolutions are at stake;
Debates you'll find where opinions vary
and sides are taken -some find it scary!

Most nations, though, in here are not
Participants in the UN “plot”,
They often prefer to therefore remain
autonomous here within this game.

If new you are to this internet game,
Then help abounds when sought for by name
Go first to the FAQ and, if not there found,
Come next to the forums where stickies abound.

Help can be found through starting a thread
And advice for all newbies will there be said.
However, if a n00b you become,
then many are saddened -for those are no fun!

Very nice Light Keepers

I, too, came for the cookies!!! Any sign of them yet? (I hope they are chocolate chip! :D )

*Having just stumbled across this thread, I find it quite interesting the wide gamut of topics and styles covered thus far. (And mildly humorous how far past the September first deadline it is) However, I understand that people get busy sometimes -hence the reason I have never been in the forums enough recemtly to see this thread in time to actually post some of my own pieces.

Good luck with the judging . . .

(And if it's not too late to enter since you're still judging I could probably dig up a few selections I wrote for the ode to NS thread as well to throw in for fun.) :cool:

HEY!!! No horning in on MY COOKIES. You missed the deadline. You snooze, you lose. I got enough competition for those cookies without you!! :D

HEY!!! No horning in on MY COOKIES. You missed the deadline. You snooze, you lose. I got enough competition for those cookies without you!! :D

Your cookies?

I shall throw this brick with terrible might
For there is a cookie tempter I shall smite
You may be hording your cookies, yes hording them well
But kiss my white ass I'll see you hell! throws brick

Hehehehe, relax guys. I would love to share the cookies but, alas, I was unaware of the existence of the contest until after the deadline so I can bake my own cookies.

So do the judges have any idea how soon the winners will be announced for those who were in before Sept. 1st?

Hehehehe, relax guys. I would love to share the cookies but, alas, I was unaware of the existence of the contest until after the deadline so I can bake my own cookies.

So do the judges have any idea how soon the winners will be announced for those who were in before Sept. 1st?


i dont even know who the judges are...

Judging is to commence today (as long as I can find Pure Metal and Gruenberg).
It appears to be these three.

Slashes

As the mirror shatters
She picks up the pieces
One slasH
Two slashes
Her blood drips to the floor;
staining the carpet red forever with the memory of a crying girl

Black Angel Wings

She bleeds
And she bleeds this crimson liquid that's pouring from her veins
Flowing incessantly down her body
Trialing behind in the white snow
Dripping from her Black Angel Wings
Endless slashes, witness to her pain
Red blood now Black carried the burden of life now leaving
Even death ignored her plea
Condemned to live forever as a fallen angel with
Black Wings

(I've only just found this thread, and am not trying to compete, but...)


'There was a young girl of Bigtopia
Who shunned hot water and soap-ia;
When she asked "Am I sweet?"
Of the people she'd meet
They all replied "Not a hope-ia".'