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Topic: share your poems
JeremyCastle's photo
Wed 03/19/08 02:34 PM
if you want to share some of your poems please do i would like to hear some new ones

Runpenzo's photo
Wed 03/19/08 02:38 PM
I got 2
Yellow custard dripping from your dead gods eye,
**** that in placid sanguinity you will surely die…
In stationary lived lives stagnant sickly sweet
Every moment alive in motionless bristly beat,
Cadence our spirits earthly bodies lead us on,
History writhes painfully in our present days bygone,
Our philosophy of what is, stands lying dead…
In scrappy broken books lying to be read,
The lessons of our history repeated now today,
We repeat our blunder in every way, we stay…
Languid doubts lay greasily on your minds eye
Retching lively our thoughts in their place we slowly die…
Thinking is all for naught in this world of place and time,
Even living prose dies structured in my simple rhyme…
Yet if a single kernel of thought grows from its death,
It is worth every indignant and anxious breath…


We sit nothing we lie through our teeth,
Nothing we have to stand upon the heath,
Those missing and never found alive,
Never shown how they lived and thrived,
How is our obsession with life and of death,
Why do we claw painfully for our last breath…
Do we grasp to life for the fear of nothing?
Do we not know how nothing is something…
Without the prince there would be no pauper,
How does life lost to be thought of as proper…
Why do we clutch for our place in history,
Why do we beat our heads for our mystery?
Are we a part of a great mans plan,
Or do we live to create all we can…
In twenty years I’ve done less than,
A thousand times I am not a man…
Why am I nothing in this world?
Or will my plan be soon be unfurled?


and this one

I fetid lie in writhing ruin,
Amidst my feelings you do me in,
My face torn from under this guise,
I wonder what’s within your surprise,
A degenerate sycophant lying heartless,
A romantic fool screaming hopeless,
I thrash violently flesh files asunder,
I stand to think now I wonder,
Self-loathing strangles decrepit mind,
Looking for answers to you to find,
Torturous thoughts lay greasily on my mind,
Eyes sown shut I myself am blind,
Condemnation of my unclean soul,
Consciousness taken and swallowed whole
I wring my own neck the pain goes away,
I scrape together my broken mind,
I beg not to be tortured if only one day,
My whole my one for you it pined,
I staple my heart back to one rotten hell,
As to my knees I wrathfully fell,
I reach deep inside my blade finds my arm,
My blood tries to undo your perfect harm,
Thinking blissfully I’ll be content,
As off into the sunset you plainly went,
I reach deep to peel back my squalid skin,
To show what waits you within,
To reveal what I truly am,
Peacefully I sit to be your lamb,
Nothing more than simple words,
Leaving you to fly as birds,
Nothing more then pain filled screams,
I am nothing what it seems,
A mindless thought in a beautiful mind,
Left forever for you to remind,
My worthless being sat bare for you,
As you rifled my mind once though,
Sat willingly while you stuck your hand deep inside,
You squeezed my broken heart till it popped
Sat willingly and deathly still as I slowly died,
As my head you would’ve just lopped,
Like the parasite truly I am,
I lay restless in my own bed
My essence my being a beautiful sham,
And drill that wire into my head,
I’ve made what I now endure,
Pain is nothing short of pure,
I am nothing within naught,
To be disposed of without thought…

EffingAlisha's photo
Wed 03/19/08 02:39 PM
I wrote this when I was like, fourteen. glasses So, its not great, but its still my favorite.



Fat

This hypocracy is what molded me
It forced be to become what I dont want to be
Every day Im reopening the scar, you see
Im committing my own personal blastphemy

I cant push the torturer off my lips
Its impossible to drop the cravings from my finger tips
The repulsive blubber hangs off my hips
Every day is more bites, more sweets, more sips

My loved one is my worst enemy
How can I change this illness into a recovery?
My daily suicide hangs off of me
And no matter what, Ill keep crumbling

I cant be a survivor on my own
But I need to be thin if I dont want to be alone
Yet Im still drawn to the appetizers shown
I keep adding meat to my big bones

The discrimination is always so thick
My imperfections make the public so sick
I hate the blonde, beautiful, tall, and fit!
So why force myself to look like that girl in that flick?

These people make others hate their own skin
They say your not good enough to join the groups they're in
Full figured men and women are the ultimate sin
And they continuously teach this to their next of kin

Forget the media and those that follow
Of course your happy being ignorant, vain, and hollow
People are more than flesh in case you didnt think so
I really cant be like you, I wont sink so low

You and yourself alone decide your self worth
Your not a waste of large space on planet earth
So what if you consist of a little more girth?
Thats a few more inches for your lovers fingers to surf

Dont doubt that you arent anything short of the best
Believe me when I say you arent grotesque
I cant change who I am, but does that make me less?
No, because unlike "them", I dont have a silicon heart in my chest

BonnyMiss's photo
Wed 03/19/08 02:39 PM
Yellow custard dripping from your dead gods eye,

Glad you like the Beatles bigsmile

JeremyCastle's photo
Wed 03/19/08 02:40 PM
i like the second one
i dont know i guess i like poems with heartache and suffering in it
and i really like that one alisha

BonnyMiss's photo
Wed 03/19/08 02:41 PM
What is............

Lonesome weary soul
Contemplating
what was
what is
what is to be
Fate reached out
setting in stone
what was
what is
what is to be
journeying through
the jaggered patterns of life
what was
what is
what is to be
Seeking betterment of
what was
what is
what is to be
Learning from
what was
what is
Not sure of what will be


10.11.07








JeremyCastle's photo
Wed 03/19/08 02:42 PM
very nice indeed bonny

Runpenzo's photo
Wed 03/19/08 02:43 PM

Yellow custard dripping from your dead gods eye,

Glad you like the Beatles bigsmile

i like the second one
i dont know i guess i like poems with heartache and suffering in it
and i really like that one alisha


Yeah a little blast from the past for y'all...

and I wrote the second one a day after I got my heart torn from my chest...

ominousman26's photo
Wed 03/19/08 02:44 PM
i got a bunch of creepy ones(written by other people though)

BonnyMiss's photo
Wed 03/19/08 02:44 PM


Yellow custard dripping from your dead gods eye,

Glad you like the Beatles bigsmile

i like the second one
i dont know i guess i like poems with heartache and suffering in it
and i really like that one alisha


Yeah a little blast from the past for y'all...

and I wrote the second one a day after I got my heart torn from my chest...


Metaphorically speaking I hope...........

JeremyCastle's photo
Wed 03/19/08 02:45 PM
i know how you feel about your heart getting torn out

Roses are for hedges.
Do I have leaves?
You seem to think
that the red peatles
equaite with my happiness
and the sweet smell
is that of my heart
lifting into your
waiting arms.
I can avoid your charms.

ominousman26's photo
Wed 03/19/08 02:46 PM
My horse had been lamed in the foot
In the rocks at the back of the run,
So I camped at the Murderer's Hut,
At the place where the murder was done.

The walls were all spattered with gore,
A terrible symbol of guilt;
And the bloodstains were fresh on the floor
Where the blood of the victim was spilt.

The wind hurried past with a shout,
The thunderstorm doubled its din
As I shrank from the danger without,
And recoiled from the horror within.

When lo! at the window a shape,
A creature of infinite dread;
A thing with the face of an ape,
And with eyes like the eyes of the dead.

With the horns of a fiend, and a skin
That was hairy as satyr or elf,
And a long, pointed beard on its chin --
My God! 'twas the Devil himself.

In anguish I sank on the floor,
With terror my features were stiff,
Till the thing gave a kind of a roar,
Ending up with a resonant "Biff!"

Then a cheer burst aloud from my throat,
For the thing that my spirit did vex
Was naught but an elderly goat --
Just a goat of the masculine sex.

When his master was killed he had fled,
And now, by the dingoes bereft,
The nannies were all of them dead,
And only the billy was left.

So we had him brought in on a stage
To the house where, in style, he can strut,
And he lives to a fragrant old age
As the Ghost of the Murderer's Hut.

Runpenzo's photo
Wed 03/19/08 02:46 PM

Metaphorically speaking I hope...........

Well... sort of... it did ruin my life, left me without money, without a place to sleep and without my car and without one of my friends...

JeremyCastle's photo
Wed 03/19/08 02:47 PM

My horse had been lamed in the foot
In the rocks at the back of the run,
So I camped at the Murderer's Hut,
At the place where the murder was done.

The walls were all spattered with gore,
A terrible symbol of guilt;
And the bloodstains were fresh on the floor
Where the blood of the victim was spilt.

The wind hurried past with a shout,
The thunderstorm doubled its din
As I shrank from the danger without,
And recoiled from the horror within.

When lo! at the window a shape,
A creature of infinite dread;
A thing with the face of an ape,
And with eyes like the eyes of the dead.

With the horns of a fiend, and a skin
That was hairy as satyr or elf,
And a long, pointed beard on its chin --
My God! 'twas the Devil himself.

In anguish I sank on the floor,
With terror my features were stiff,
Till the thing gave a kind of a roar,
Ending up with a resonant "Biff!"

Then a cheer burst aloud from my throat,
For the thing that my spirit did vex
Was naught but an elderly goat --
Just a goat of the masculine sex.

When his master was killed he had fled,
And now, by the dingoes bereft,
The nannies were all of them dead,
And only the billy was left.

So we had him brought in on a stage
To the house where, in style, he can strut,
And he lives to a fragrant old age
As the Ghost of the Murderer's Hut.


very nice i like it

heres a dream i had i thought id write about it

I dance with a girl in my dreams,
with cold, pale skin, and a smile that gleams.
With souless eyes, and decadent garb.
With rotting flesh, and a forever stilled heart.
I dance with a girl in my dreams,
She whispers to me, quiets my screams.

She smiles as we dance to silent violins,
to remind us each, of long passed sins.
I hold her hand, and it's cold as ice.
The comforting chill, of an expired life.
I dance with a girl in my dreams,
the frost kissed corpse of a beauty queen.

I dance with a girl in my dreams,
and as we dance I know, she won't kiss me

JeremyCastle's photo
Wed 03/19/08 02:49 PM
I hide in the light, where you dare not tread,
screaming and ranting, get out of my head.
I smile and it hurts, are my cheeks tearing?
And I laugh, while you laugh, at the concept of caring.
How could I have thought such an absurd thing,
why can't I stop, if this is only a dream?
I sit and I laugh, and I scream and I smile,
shivering and shaking, humming all the while.
I fall through life, a dance of apathy and deciet,
An echoing thought, why was I so weak?
I'm quiet while I fall, but I laugh in my head.
The farther I fall, the closer to dead.
I cling to the song, it's all that I know,
the music never leaves, where ever I go.

So why is this funny?
Why do I laugh?

It really isn't,
but it's all that I have.

So days become weeks and weeks become years.
Never once does the song leave my ears.
Every note a memory, once loved.

Runpenzo's photo
Wed 03/19/08 02:50 PM
Cantankerous ribbons lift me on high,
Acid leaves crash in my bleeding eye,
Androgynous lap lipid severed mind,
Livid teeth chatter out my mouth,
I thrive in excruciating seizures,
Fingers split in and out of your devotion,
Meekness cracks my toughened skin,
Faces drip down reverent memories,
Lunacy brings me round again,
Veins coarse your seething life,
Sounding like minds I ring true,
You voice cuts windy mistiness,
Love fractures my carcass,
Splinters my mislaid mind,
As the pallbearers hide me once again,
I’ll say I love you and mean it this time…

JeremyCastle's photo
Wed 03/19/08 02:52 PM
Twenty one eyes.
Watch every failure.
Twevle faces.
Smirk with supposed granduer.
Fifty two witnesses,
to a life wasted.
Jokes on them..
I hold the aces.

(this one i just thought of)

EffingAlisha's photo
Wed 03/19/08 02:53 PM

i like the second one
i dont know i guess i like poems with heartache and suffering in it
and i really like that one alisha


Thank you :)

JeremyCastle's photo
Wed 03/19/08 02:54 PM
your welcome
keep them coming if you have more
and also i have one on my profile

BonnyMiss's photo
Wed 03/19/08 02:54 PM
If you like haiku's...............

Spun silver thread
A table laid for supper
Satisfied spider

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