NationStates Jolt Archive

I have recently developed a thing for poetry, and don't quite no why. I am hardly the most romantic of people, but nevertheless am now intrested in it. Perhaps I'm just lonely. Anyway, so that this has a topic instead of just me go on about how I feel sad (it's what I normally do when I talk about myself) I'd like to see what NSG can produce in terms of poets. Feel free to contirbute anything you've written, as long as it's not of a disturbing and overtly sexual nature. I'd quite like thios thread to survive. I'll start with a few of my attempts -



You
When I sleep you haunt my dreams
And when I wake I see you in the crowds
Everyday I think of you
Yet know you will never be mine


Love/Hate
I hate everything about you
Your smile, your laugh
I hate that you are happy
While I am sad
And yet I cannot help
But still love you


Seasons
In summers dawning bloom
I rode with you among the groves
Through sweet lavender
And rose red, white and blue

And as autumn came we rode on together
Through the darkening days
As around us all things once beautiful
Rotted and decayed

With winters deadly frost
All things finally died
Whether beautiful or cursed
And once again your smile preserves my frozen heart

But as spring comes we ride again
And your face lights up with joy
And once again, year on year
You keep me alive

I ain´t touching this one. I know the outcome.

By the way, tell Lapse to eradicate all my poems from the SSA. I don´t want them and they´re taking up space.

I refuse to be so clique as to be a teen writing poetry on my Monday

poem about me I found >.>:

Robbie

Robbie is so cool
Robbie is so fine
I secretly wish...
that Robbie was all mine!

The SSA is dead nat. I can't remember the last time Lapse was on the any real period of time, and moley and DG have been MIA for god know how long. I'm seriously considering seeking asyalum in UMP.

The SSA is dead nat. I can't remember the last time Lapse was on the any real period of time, and moley and DG have been MIA for god know how long. I'm seriously considering seeking asyalum in UMP.

Join Generalite Mafia. Ruffy´ll make you laugh.:wink:

Join Generalite Mafia. Ruffy´ll make you laugh.:wink:

Link?

Link?

I don´t have it. Summon Ruffy!!!

Umm, I kind of write some amateur poetry- but I'm too shy to let show it to the real world. Fortunately enough a) this isn't the real world b) you guys don't know who I am c) I don't know you guys and d) no one can see me blush and grin nervously.
I'm normally a cheerful person, but some of the stuff I come out with is rather morbid for some reason. Don't be afraid to say that its poorly written, bombastic and pompous
Here's the first one:

Life
Trapped in this rotting sack of offal
The end inevitable, delayal futile, resistance hopeless
Gone forever are the days of cheer and energy,
When immortality was obvious and the world had no cares.
Now laughter is dead, soft songs forbidden.
Even dreams are bitter and soulless.
Why bother? And to that only fools give us answers.
Nothing to do but contemplate death.
Each second bringing me closer.


(I should note that all of the poems I have, but one, were composed and written up during business studies lessons.)

I don't have that power!

Fuck it, I'll try anyway.

Ruffy!!!! I summon you!!!!!!!!

I don't have that power!

Fuck it, I'll try anyway.

Ruffy!!!! I summon you!!!!!!!!

As Smunkee, she may have it. Although I am a member of GM, I haven´t been there in ages.

I wrote quite a bit of poetry. Some about love and some about hate. About the worst and about the great. Words, some say, could set one's soul afire. Words describing fears and desire. The love in a hateful shell and a smiling face hiding one's hell.

I could give a link to my deviantart profile where I keep all my poetry, but that would be advertising. Holy crap, I just advertised. Bye. I mean meow. Yeah, meow. That's it. Let's go with that.

Snow:
Gently falling on my window

That's as far as I got.:D

Roses are red
Violets are blue
I have to go to the bathroom.
*Eats poem*

Snow:
Gently falling on my window

That's as far as I got.:D

You suck real bad. Surely you could have put in a tiny bit more effort?

As for zero - argh!

Is no one taking this seriously?

As for zero - argh!

Is no one taking this seriously?

Erm... this is NSG. I think that's all the answer you need.

As for zero - argh!

Is no one taking this seriously?

All I can say about you posting your poems in NSGeneral is:

EPIC FAIL.

When I was about 14/15 I wrote poetry. Well, no, actually it doesn't deserve that label. Mostly angsty self-hate crap, with occasional doses of "I'm going to brutally kill you all, REEEVENGE!!!" sentiment. I have no idea where all this stuff I wrote is. I think I may have binned the whole lot in a fit of artistic temperament :p I don't think the mods would like that sorta stuff posted on here anyways. Swears, suicide and vicious murders aren't really family fun.

Nanatsu no Tsuki I ain´t touching this one. I know the outcome.

I'm going to try and build up a reputations for basic unworldliness here and ask, genuinely, what this 'outcome' is.

If I remeber corectly she posted some quite touching and semi-private poetry.

If I remeber corectly she posted some quite touching and semi-private poetry.

You shall go no further than that Bel - unless you wish to be thrown to the Goofballs. :p

You shall go no further than that Bel - unless you wish to be thrown to the Goofballs. :p

That sounds fun.....

Well everyone, it started with.......;)

that sounds fun.....

Well everyone, it started with.......;)

:D Thats my bel.

If I remeber corectly she posted some quite touching and semi-private poetry.

Exactly, and the Word was good and these asses turned It into shyte. You truly don´t want that happening to you, right Artic? It sucks donkey butt. <.<

That sounds fun.....

Well everyone, it started with.......;)

My hand up Bel´s anus. He wanted it there.:D

Nanatsu no Tsuki I ain´t touching this one. I know the outcome.

I'm going to try and build up a reputations for basic unworldliness here and ask, genuinely, what this 'outcome' is.

Nanatsu no Tsuki

I'm going to try and build up a reputations for basic unworldliness here and ask, genuinely, what this 'outcome' is.


http://forums.jolt.co.uk/showpost.php?p=14074667&postcount=24

I just hope this isn´t the return of the timewarps.:eek2:

My hand up Bel´s anus. He wanted it there.:D

If you want to stick it up again.....

My hand up Bel´s anus. He wanted it there.:D

Yuki-Chan! You dirty girl! :eek:

If you want to stick it up again.....

Got lube?

<.<

Got lube?

<.<

Of course. It's me.

Of course. It's me.

*lubes her foot*
>.>

O_o

The future used to be so bright,
everything used to turn out alright,
but now the sunshine is gone,
the hope is long gone.

Just a smiling shell,
smiling as the days go by,
but the man hides his hell,
from now until the day he dies.

A man tormented by fate,
the world's love overwhelmed by hate,
the roads are paved with foreboding dread,
and the world, it wants him dead.

And yet even as all the hope is long gone,
he continues to fight on,
the man worries not where the other road lead,
he'll continue his fight until he's dead.

Here's a poem of mine. I write short, usually four stanza, poems. They vary in themes, but pain, hope, and foxies are reoccurring themes.

*lubes her foot*
>.>

It'll be a tight fit, but I'll only enjoy it all the more for it.

*straps ball gag on self*

O_o

Don´t fret Zero-kun. Go wait your turn like a good lad. I´ll be right with you.:wink:

Don´t fret Zero-kun. Go wait your turn like a good lad. I´ll be right with you.:wink:

Erm... I think i'll pass. Rectal invasion with a foot is not my cup of tea, Yuki-Chan. ;)

Erm... I think i'll pass. Rectal invasion with a foot is not my cup of tea, Yuki-Chan. ;)

I´ll be gentle, I promise. Besides, my foot size´s 5 1/2. Small.

Well seeing as my rectal entrance is only about a fraction of that size, it sounds very painful... :eek:

Well seeing as my rectal entrance is only about a fraction of that size, it sounds very painful... :eek:

It'll stretch....

It'll be a tight fit, but I'll only enjoy it all the more for it.

*straps ball gag on self*

It´s no fun when the anally raped person seems to be enjoying himself.:(

Perhaps I should post one of my poems and make you all slit your wrists!!

It'll stretch....

And bleed, and leave me feeling violated... not by a bad person of course, but still...

(Ignoring all previous posts)

Roses are red
Violets are blue
George Carlin is dead
Why was it you?!

It´s no fun when the anally raped person seems to be enjoying himself.:(


I can pretend to hate it if you want:(

I can pretend to hate it if you want:(

Ok, pretend and let me get my kink outta your anal humiliation.

Ok, pretend and let me get my kink outta your anal humiliation.

No please, don't stick something up my arse nat. I won't like it any way, on a sexual level or any other.

No please, don't stick something up my arse nat. I won't like it any way, on a sexual level or any other.

Oh now he's asking for it... :D

No please, don't stick something up my arse nat. I won't like it any way, on a sexual level or any other.

You should submit. You made me go back to the SSA and read through my poetry. ATONE FOR THAT IMPERTINENCE!!!!:mad:

You should submit. You made me go back to the SSA and read through my poetry. ATONE FOR THAT IMPERTINENCE!!!!:mad:

Yes mistress. Do as you see fit.

*Hides in the shadows, shivering*

Yes mistress. Do as you see fit.

Nothing good to post though so... *get impulse to stick foot into Bel´s anus* Are you ready, maggot?

*Closes eyes and pretends to be somewhere else*

Nothing good to post though so... *get impulse to stick foot into Bel´s anus* Are you ready, maggot?

Not really mistress.

*Closes eyes and pretends to be somewhere else*

Don´t hide, Zero-kun. You´re next!:D

The Machine:

You work all day you work all night to feed a machine that built a machine that pays a machine to teach kids to write,
They feed from a system that pay sthe machine,
Then pay back the machine to keep funding the dream,
You get up at six sit in your car wearing your suit smoking morning cigar,
The cool city sunshine passes you by as radio drive time feeds you the lie,
The rows of homeless shoppers and suits all bussle around you but who gives a hoot,

You walk through the city with little in head,
But last evenings telly and the warmth of your bed,
Thinking of lunch break, dreaming a dream
You walk past the town hall and huge tv screen,
You come to the offices of a large service company who feed a machine from which you earn money,
You stole through the loby and climb up the stairs one hand in pocket running fingers through hair,
You go to your desk, and pull out your seat fidlle some files and shuffle your feet,
And whilst you fidling and shuffling shuffling and fiddling you can't help but feel that somethign is missing,

The cogs of the machine are still turning away,
Collecting transfering and handing out pay,
The Machine that woke you this morning will soon send you to bed,
With dreams of your work day and tv in head,
While this day is over and all youve dones gone,
Tommorow its mirror and the same every one,
The Machine ever flowing just like a river,
The system the take the master the giver,
But your still working all day and working all night,
To feed the machine that built the machine that paid off the machine that taught YOU to write

Don´t hide, Zero-kun. You´re next!:D

*Squeals in fear*

Please Yuki-Chan... no!

Why did I even post in this thread? 0.0

Why did I even post in this thread? 0.0

'Cos you love it.

I regret to inform you that all my recent poetry is dirty limericks and therefore won't be posted. Sorry.

Devour

Sweet nightfall
that unknowingly
places me between the sword and the wall
Prisioner
I wait for you until dawn

Sweet and warm
is the sweat
that I drink from your neck, love
And now, let me finally burn!

If at the edge of time
I lose my reason
-I hate it to be slow-
I would devour
devour your heart

Sweet and rough, that ocean
Gothic, the inferno that burnt
the thorns
the gardenias of this passion

Clawing at emotions
Under a treacherous sky
-I hate it to be slow-
I would devour
Devour your heart

If I try to
If I try to I know
That gambling I'll lose what I earned
Strong and immense
It's hard and hard to tell you that
that if I gamble at it
I will lose myself
Perhaps lose you
If you're not there

Overtake me
Consume me
and smoke me one last time
Bitter
Those sweet lips that I kissed!

I would devour
Devour your heart...

I regret to inform you that all my recent poetry is dirty limericks and therefore won't be posted. Sorry.

I assure you they would be quite apropriate considering the curent tone of th thread. And the imneinet destruction of the arsehole.

The SSA is dead nat. I can't remember the last time Lapse was on the any real period of time, and moley and DG have been MIA for god know how long. I'm seriously considering seeking asyalum in UMP.

I haz bin summond?

From anal invasion to a wonderful poem. Strange times indeed. :p

You suck real bad. Surely you could have put in a tiny bit more effort?

I had it all down on paper, I thought it was pretty good. Until I spilled my Coke on it. :D

I haz bin summond?

By nat. She wants you to burn her poems.

*clears throat

Poetry f***en sucks
Poetry f***en sucks
It's far worse than Chuck
Poetry f***en sucks

I am very deliberately not reading any of the poems in this thread, but I just want to note this - if any of the following qualities apply to you, your poetry is probably not nearly as good as you think it is and you will regret posting it later:

- You are a teenager
- You are in love
- You are filled with a deep existential angst
- You have not actually read much poetry other than your own
- You think poems necessarily have to rhyme
- You think poems that don't rhyme are more unique and "edgy"

I say this with your best interests at heart, as I, too, was once an angsty lovelorn teenager who wrote shitty poetry. :tongue:

I am very deliberately not reading any of the poems in this thread, but I just want to note this - if any of the following qualities apply to you, your poetry is probably not nearly as good as you think it is and you will regret posting it later:

- You are a teenager
- You are in love
- You are filled with a deep existential angst
- You have not actually read much poetry other than your own
- You think poems necessarily have to rhyme
- You think poems that don't rhyme are more unique and "edgy"

I say this with your best interests at heart, as I, too, was once an angsty lovelorn teenager who wrote shitty poetry. :tongue:
Hmmm, I fulfill one of those, should I refrain from trashing my room again in a an effort to find a poem to post on here?

[QUOTE=Poliwanacraca;14074808]
- You are a teenager Check
- You are in love Not any more. I hate the bitch.
- You are filled with a deep existential angst Check
- You have not actually read much poetry other than your own I read poetry
- You think poems necessarily have to rhyme What kinda idiot thinks this?
- You think poems that don't rhyme are more unique and "edgy"I'm sorry what? Though it is actually true.
[QUOTE]

[QUOTE=Poliwanacraca;14074808]
- You are a teenager Check
- You are in love Not any more. I hate the bitch.
- You are filled with a deep existential angst Check
- You have not actually read much poetry other than your own I read poetry
- You think poems necessarily have to rhyme What kinda idiot thinks this?
- You think poems that don't rhyme are more unique and "edgy"I'm sorry what? Though it is actually true.
QUOTE]

Hey, I´m still about to anally rape you. Bend!

Hey, I´m still about to anally rape you. Bend!

Oh noes! *Covers eyes*

[QUOTE=Belschaft;14074817]

Hey, I´m still about to anally rape you. Bend!

Yes mistress.

*bends reluctantly*

[QUOTE=Nanatsu no Tsuki;14074818]

Yes mistress.

*bends reluctantly*

Hahahahahaha!! *coughs* I better go!

*Takes his chance and flees*

[QUOTE=Belschaft;14074826]

Hahahahahaha!! *coughs* I better go!

Good idea. A mod will find this eventaully and we'll all be in a lot of trouble. I'm pretty certain we've breached the T&G's.

Well it's too late now - the deed is done. :p

Yep. Unless wedelete all our posts.

Yep. Unless wedelete all our posts.

Now where's the fun in that?

He who walks the walk
must talk the talk
I like chalk
I hit a block
The End

Maybe we can hide the bad stuff under endless nonsesical posts?

Ok then. Want a crisp?

I am very deliberately not reading any of the poems in this thread, but I just want to note this - if any of the following qualities apply to you, your poetry is probably not nearly as good as you think it is and you will regret posting it later:

- You are a teenager
- You are in love
- You are filled with a deep existential angst
- You have not actually read much poetry other than your own
- You think poems necessarily have to rhyme
- You think poems that don't rhyme are more unique and "edgy"

I say this with your best interests at heart, as I, too, was once an angsty lovelorn teenager who wrote shitty poetry. :tongue:
Ugh...tell me about it. Can I burn everything I ever wrote pre-college?

In the interests of this thread, I'll throw in my two favorite poems. Not mine, but love them.

We Real Cool by Gwendolyn Brooks
We real cool. We
Left school. We

Lurk late. We
Strike straight. We

Sing sin. We
Thin gin. We

Jazz June. We
Die soon.

One Art by Elizabeth Bishop
The art of losing isn't hard to master;
so many things seem filled with the intent
to be lost that their loss is no disaster.

Lose something every day. Accept the fluster
of lost door keys, the hour badly spent.
The art of losing isn't hard to master.

Then practice losing farther, losing faster:
places, and names, and where it was you meant
to travel. None of these will bring disaster.

I lost my mother's watch. And look! my last, or
next-to-last, of three loved houses went.
The art of losing isn't hard to master.

I lost two cities, lovely ones. And, vaster,
some realms I owned, two rivers, a continent.
I miss them, but it wasn't a disaster.


--Even losing you (the joking voice, a gesture
I love) I shan't have lied. It's evident
the art of losing's not too hard to master
though it may look like (Write it!) like disaster.



Favorite poem is T.S. Eliot's The Hollow Men (http://poetry.poetryx.com/poems/784/), but a bit too long to reproduce here.

Maybe we can hide the bad stuff under endless nonsesical posts?

Bel, nothing bad will happen. We stopped the atrocities already.

Bel, nothing bad will happen. We stopped the atrocities already.

If thats what you want to call them... :p

Ok then. Want a crisp?

Yeah ok. Shall I open some brownies?

Yeah ok. Shall I open some brownies?

Sounds delicious.

Bel, nothing bad will happen. We stopped the atrocities already.

I don't know wheter the mods will see it that way.....

Sounds delicious.

I've got some vanila ice cream as well. You bring the beer.

Beer is disgusting.

Beer is disgusting.

But it gets you drunk.

But it gets you drunk.

True, but I can only think of one person I would be willing to get drunk with... :)

Ugh...tell me about it. Can I burn everything I ever wrote pre-college?

Yeah, the best thing I can think about any of my teenage poems is "Well....it's pretty decent as terrible teenage poetry goes..." I don't burn it, though - I just reread it and laugh my ass off at how terribly deep and tormented I thought I was. :tongue:


In the interests of this thread, I'll throw in my two favorite poems. Not mine, but love them.

We Real Cool by Gwendolyn Brooks
We real cool. We
Left school. We

Lurk late. We
Strike straight. We

Sing sin. We
Thin gin. We

Jazz June. We
Die soon.

One Art by Elizabeth Bishop
The art of losing isn't hard to master;
so many things seem filled with the intent
to be lost that their loss is no disaster.

Lose something every day. Accept the fluster
of lost door keys, the hour badly spent.
The art of losing isn't hard to master.

Then practice losing farther, losing faster:
places, and names, and where it was you meant
to travel. None of these will bring disaster.

I lost my mother's watch. And look! my last, or
next-to-last, of three loved houses went.
The art of losing isn't hard to master.

I lost two cities, lovely ones. And, vaster,
some realms I owned, two rivers, a continent.
I miss them, but it wasn't a disaster.


--Even losing you (the joking voice, a gesture
I love) I shan't have lied. It's evident
the art of losing's not too hard to master
though it may look like (Write it!) like disaster.



Favorite poem is T.S. Eliot's The Hollow Men (http://poetry.poetryx.com/poems/784/), but a bit too long to reproduce here.

All three excellent choices. Not enough people know Bishop well, but she's really rather wonderful. :)

Beer is disgusting.

Fine you bring the wine/rum/vodka/wiskey/cider/gim/port/moonshine

True, but I can only think of one person I would be willing to get drunk with... :)

Me.

True, but I can only think of one person I would be willing to get drunk with... :)

And that person sure ain´t Bel.:D

Me.

You wish. <_<

And that person sure ain´t Bel.:D

Who is it then :confused: