ForumHobbies ► Poetry
*Bows* Thank you, randite, I do my best.

Edit- Ah, that's a typo. Thanks for pointing that out.
  
Cloud- I also really liked that. Well done. I usually don't like poems which repeat lines ("Rising, Rising") over and over, but I did like that. Kudos.

All the Secrets of the World

On the kitchen counter sits a book I’ve never read.
It contains every secret - even those of life and death.
There is no lock to bind it from those who would its covers cleft,
Yet its words are always to their own devices left.

Oh, how brightly its illustrations surely shine!
But no bribe in the world could convince me to make it mine.
Ignorance is bliss, indeed, and makes life so fine,
For the world is only pretty if we’re blind to beauty’s lies.

Never shall I read that book for fear of what’s inside.
  
Thank you, Raining. I'm glad you enjoyed it. I like the content of your poem, but something about the rhyme scheme just doesn't sit right with me. I usually don't like rhyming in poems, though, so I might be a little biased.
  
Roses are red,
Violets are blue,
Some poems rhyme,
Others don't.
  
@Raining
I really like the 1st stanza, but not so much the 2nd. Feels like you're forcing the rhyme and rhythm with words like "Oh,". Is a tad awkward.
  
Blind


Watching waiting at my door,
shadows creeping while I mourn.

Death has taken my soul from me,
laughing shaking while I flee.

Through mist the moon and stars,
no longer have I gone so far.

Bleeding fainting cannot see,
please wake me from my misery.

While I walk, while I weep,
Blind forever in my sleep.



I wrote this poem shortly after my grandfather died.
  
I had a notebook full of them but gave them to my gf for Valentine's Day. She gave me one of hers too though. Wish i had mine to share though.
  
(Note: I write for meaning, not for structure, or anything else. The only time i purposely rhyme, other than that, is when i'm writing a song. I also rarely title my work. Sorry if you don't like it, thanks for reading anyway.)

Distant ties held together scarcely; longer string is little consolation.
With every affecting proximity, a sliver of string is awarded,
and the tie is strengthened. Smallest of turbulence,
whilst light in the least, can cut string with the
intensity of harrowing wind.
Needn't we lie,
nor shall we deceive:
this leaves our ties unscathed,
thus allowing our ties to grow,
and grow,
and grow.

Someday may allow a certain point, if luck favors us,
in which such a tie will cease to exist itself as a tie,
but rather a line. A line, although thin,
is permanent, and disallows all
Conceivability of rupture.
  
Just a silly Haiku I thought of this morning.

I once spoke in prose,
Now, I count my syllables.
I just speak Haiku.
  
Oh, Thenny, thank you. It's nowhere near done yet--that was just what I had so far.
  
well, thank goodness i found a thread in hobbies that i relate to. began to think that there wasnt one here besides Halo vs CoD, and that wasnt exactly a stimulating discussion

anyway, i like to set limits on myself sometimes while writing. it seems to me that whenever i just sit down and try to think the thoughts dont flow as well, so here's an example of what im talking about:

A Snowflake

Drifting through a world of cares
Announced to all by skyward stares
And then to all of them ensnare
Flies a snowflake through the air

Through the December sky it tears
An answer to a child’s prayer
Who dares to dream, or dreams to dare
Flies a snowflake through the air

To a darkened night it seems a flare
And to a rising sun you could compare
But with only signs of death to bear
Flies a snowflake through the air

With the snowflake comes a scare
To which all of life must prepare
Only to hope for spring to repair
Flies a snowflake through the air

And though you may call it unfair
To condemn a messenger, blissfully unaware
I say, “look away, and despair”
Flies a snowflake through the air
  
You know, you could always *make* a thread, if you have an idea that hasn't been contributed. These are only the ones since the Wipe.
  
I should search through The Museum to see if there are any popular threads that no one has bothered to start up again.
  
"Momentum Spring"
New Dawn, New Day, New Rose
Second Chances Twice and Again.
New Hope, New Turn, New Love
New Storms to Outride New Winds.
New Thought. New Waves, Renew.
Come Crash! Against the tried untrue.
Spring Forth in Action, do, make, create!
Let not the seasons abate, abstain…
Fall softly sighs towards Winter’s still.
Spring unfurls, abounds, exudes:
Growth, forward action, momentum all.
Winter, Still-Death, the Fall, the close.
Inaction, Destruction, Entropy Unmoved.
Rage forward, tear through!
Drive, Create, do not await
That open hand, lie of all small Men.
Forward seek, Forward go,
Forward live, Forward grow.
The wind unmoved will die ’er soon.
Dash forth, violent hand, dash forth,
Make, unmake, understand:
New ways, New Paths, So newly Found.
Stand forth as Spring, as Man.
Lie not down! as fallen winter corpse.
Tear forth as Spring Storms.
New Born. New Born. New Born.
  
The veins of crimson in the inkling stain
sends streaks across the spirit, slightly rotten,
whilst body smiles and begins to feign,
shoving memories it needs forgotten.

Around the soul the shadows hath wound
tighter, bringing the actions rejected
to mind for musing. Continued and bound
so tightly forcing, helpless neglected.

A barley mustered counterfeit smile
fools nearly all of them. None reprehend.
Rarely though, it is more than beguile;
as close ones pardon and help them to mend.

In friendship comfort can be found again,
before the soul returns to further feign.
  
I think that'd work better as free verse. It feels too much like your forcing sentences into a rhyming scheme. Just go with what works, don't worry about a regular pattern.
  
They press
around me around me around me
Smothering dying homogenizing clatter
They
Are everything
I am
Nothing in the press
The view is gone and world is words
My ears are my spectacles through which I see
The world.

Soon the people are verbalizing new, identical things
All of them
Press press press
Nothing is unique nothing is old
But it is all the same

I hear and see and feel the slither of the words
Across my eyes
They are written.
It is a new beginning for an end that never comes
It is world
It is all

It conquers but I am left
In the eye.
  
Raining, I love your writing.
  
Forever friend:

I have a feeling
That I cannot say
That cannot be in concealing
And grows stronger each day

With every breathe I take
I want to be with you
And with every move you make
It becomes more pure and true

As you do not love me
My heart grows cold and sore
As my friend only to be
I know it can't be more

But on that day
When you need a friend
I'll be there
To hold your hand
  
This one's my favorite.
This one's old.
  
Sonnet of Darkness

The veins of crimson in the inkling stain
sends streaks across the spirit, slightly rotten,
whilst body smiles and begins to feign,
shoving memories it needs forgotten.

Around the soul the shadows hath wound
tighter, bringing the actions rejected
to mind for musing. Continued and bound
so tightly forcing, helpless neglected.

A barley mustered counterfeit smile
fools nearly all of them. None reprehend.
Rarely though, it is more than beguile;
as close ones pardon and help them to mend.

In friendship comfort can be found again,
before the soul returns to further feign.
  
On this summer eve I spend awake, I seem to have lost the light that guides my way, withering in the cold dark beyond, shivering till I'm totally numb, and out of the corner of my eye i see my angel flying in the sky, she lands with grace in the path just beyond my way, as I look up into her eyes I see a light and a sign, she will hold me tight and keep me by her side, hold me on those cold winter nights, spend time with me when im laying awake afraid, my one and true love she guides me up to the heavens above, but this is just a poem, which sadly has to end.
  
I think this is a ok poem, any opinions?




There was a boy, who loved a girl
This girl he loved so dear, wore a pink dress
And spent her summers on the pier
But one cold day, the girl packed up and moved away
She left the boy, for a young soldier who was fit and ready to take her virginity away
The day was marked for the boys death, he hung himself on their wedding night forever to rest.
  
The difference between poetry and prose is that poetry tends to have a rhythm. Speaking it outloud should come naturally, any rhyme shouldn't be forced.

Currently, your poem doesn't read naturally because there's no rhythm. It's just sentences with the occasional rhyme hrown in randomly.

And the narrative is... very cliché.

Work some more on it and we'll see :D
  
Once I thought that my life was good
everything seemed to be as it should.
I didn't see the biggest mistake I made,
which was trusting you.

I remember when we were sat in the shade,
and I remember that little promise you made;
"I will always love you, no matter what you do."
But you broke it.

I only ever gave my heart and my love to you,
and now you've taken it I don't know what to do,
because you left me with nothing, nothing at all.
You left me heartless.

Whenever I see you, you make me feel so small,
and I regret that I even trusted you at all.
I hope you see the pain you caused and hate yourself,
because I hate you too.
  
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