Poetry corner............

Nibble

Nibble

Limit Breaker
Adventurer
Joined
Apr 1, 2005
Messages
455
Location
seattle'ish
this is a poem *idea* thats been in my head for a few days now.. i usually have a set style i like to use when writing, and i have been trying to break out of that style lately.. anyhow.. any comments would be nice.. good or bad.. any help to hone my writing skills is welcome.. well.. hope you all enjoy..

We are one ~ by Nibble

We are one ~ you and i
together forever ~ till we die
you reach for the moon ~ i pluck you a star,
go to any lengths ~ no matter how far..

We are one ~ body and soul,
you warm my heart ~ you make mine cold..
i would ache ~ without our love so true,
you will always be there ~ ive already failed you..

We are one ~ blood and tear,
together forever ~ no matter how near,
Yin and yang ~ like fire and ice,
we battle emotions ~ that control our lives..
love, beauty, harmony ~ rage, jealousy, hate..
sometimes i feel ~ like it was fate..

We are one ~ forever more,
you make my heart melt ~ you make mine soar..
you finish my thoughts ~ i finish your lines,
you have the key to my heart ~ for all time..
there is one last thing ~ that you must do..
i just want to say ~ that i love you ~ i love you..
 
Bones
by Walter de la Mare (1913)

Said Mr. Smith, “I really cannot
Tell you, Dr. Jones—
The most peculiar pain I’m in—
I think it’s in my bones.”
Said Dr. Jones, “Oh, Mr. Smith,
That’s nothing. Without doubt
We have a simple cure for that;
It is to take them out.”

He laid forthwith poor Mr. Smith
Close-clamped upon the table,
And, cold as stone, took out his bones
As fast as he was able.

Smith said, “Thank you, thank you, thank you,”
And wished him a good-day;
And with his parcel ‘neath his arm
He slowly moved away.


not my own work, but it amuses me :)
 
So, yeah, I live somewhere without winter... This is a poem about the park that's near my house...

--------------------------------

Lush trees that will
never be touched by
the deadly cold.
So much green
to leave your
Memories in...

Life, as an understanding,
is here as is everywhere,
but as the Sun reaches
its climax, and the Moon
is readied for waxing,
no cold hand will corrupt this land.

And, as the bees say,
nothing is further from the truth
than the truth itself.
For a mere puddle is nothing but
huddled water.
And a leafless tree
will forever be a tree,
and its stump a memory of it.

So, in Life, and its
Cycles,
we can run in the park,
and have fun.
Or sit down and think,
as we never do.
But when the Moon comes,
the silvery light
will once again change our perspective,
because it is all that there is.

Still,
there is so much that is unsaid.
 
..

I was just interested in where you live Answa? it doesnt get very cold there in the winter? i should move there.. i hate winter and snow.. lol..


My pen and I..

As i sit down to begin,
i pick up my trusty pen,
let the flow of thoughts extend,
to someone who hasnt been..

So as i sit here with my pen,
and think about what might have been,
another road i might have taken,
another place i might awaken..

So as i sit here with my pen,
and think about what should have been,
i think about how i should be free,
of all the pain i have inside,
of all the pain i try to hide,
of all the pain i try to flee,
and of all the thoughts that fill me..

So as i sit here with my pen,
and reflect upon all that has happened,
I think about all the good times ive had,
try to forget and learn from the bad,
i dry my eyes and i realize,
what it means to be me..

~nib
 
Answa~ said:
So, yeah, I live somewhere without winter... This is a poem about the park that's near my house...

--------------------------------

Lush trees that will
never be touched by
the deadly cold.
So much green
to leave your
Memories in...

Life, as an understanding,
is here as is everywhere,
but as the Sun reaches
its climax, and the Moon
is readied for waxing,
no cold hand will corrupt this land.

And, as the bees say,
nothing is further from the truth
than the truth itself.
For a mere puddle is nothing but
huddled water.
And a leafless tree
will forever be a tree,
and its stump a memory of it.

So, in Life, and its
Cycles,
we can run in the park,
and have fun.
Or sit down and think,
as we never do.
But when the Moon comes,
the silvery light
will once again change our perspective,
because it is all that there is.

Still,
there is so much that is unsaid.
Click to expand...
Nice Poem Bud' :wink:
 
Nibble said:
this is a poem *idea* thats been in my head for a few days now.. i usually have a set style i like to use when writing, and i have been trying to break out of that style lately.. anyhow.. any comments would be nice.. good or bad.. any help to hone my writing skills is welcome.. well.. hope you all enjoy..

We are one ~ by Nibble

We are one ~ you and i
together forever ~ till we die
you reach for the moon ~ i pluck you a star,
go to any lengths ~ no matter how far..

We are one ~ body and soul,
you warm my heart ~ you make mine cold..
i would ache ~ without our love so true,
you will always be there ~ ive already failed you..

We are one ~ blood and tear,
together forever ~ no matter how near,
Yin and yang ~ like fire and ice,
we battle emotions ~ that control our lives..
love, beauty, harmony ~ rage, jealousy, hate..
sometimes i feel ~ like it was fate..

We are one ~ forever more,
you make my heart melt ~ you make mine soar..
you finish my thoughts ~ i finish your lines,
you have the key to my heart ~ for all time..
there is one last thing ~ that you must do..
i just want to say ~ that i love you ~ i love you..
Click to expand...

The feeling is there, but you restrict yourself through rhyme and meter. Don't! You can be free. Poetry is an expression of yourself, and you don't have to use any rules while writing it. Here's a sample of mine (two stanzas from a longer poem):

"& back to the doorknobs
Where I'm shouting at the walls
like Jericho I'm pounding on the walls
like Berlin I'm crying on the walls
like Pink Floyd I'm
metaphorically speaking of a wall
because I am not a push over
I am hard and righteous and
I have a vendetta against all those that
wish to just
pull
me
down

but a law is a law and the unwritten law
of conversation has be turning circles because
words on a screen are just
words on a screen who are just
not really there because they don't have to be
and say what they really mean because
the screen is a wall & the screen is not being
pushed away"

From: "the wall" (C) Jason Pastorik

(of course, yours is about love and mine is about the state of communication within the internet .. but .. you get the idea)
See? ^-^ Free expression man!
 
..

i follow the "rules" of poetry because i set the rules for myself.. it seems too easy for me to just write down exactly what im feeling.. its more of a challange for me to write how i do.. again.. im trying to break out of my normal way of writing so.. lol.. here's another one i wrote..

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Faith..

On the wings of faith rides hope,
Hope never dies so long as there is faith,
If hope should waiver, then faith falls..
End over end faith tumbles till hope is restored..
Should hope die, faith will be lost..
To lose faith is to be lost..

Are you lost?
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

also as another note: i like to have my poetry have a sort of flow, a nice rhythm..

~nib

p.s. i was also wondering if you guys got it was a conversation between two people (the first poem i posted on this thread).. i dont know if i made it plain enough..
 
After reading, thats so true. Your pretty talented. Nicely done.

I once had a boss who was really good at wrighting poems too. For someone who can be so bitter, he sure had a soft side when he wrote those. Most of them were romantic ones.
 
I wish I could find my portfolio... I'd bust out some poetry. I'll search around for something tho....
 
One stanza from a poem I wrote that I liked...

Amnesty sought for what we reap
Dreams wrough by that we cannot be
Reality slips and now we see
A shattered eye, that cannot weep....

And then I song I wrote which I enjoyed writing, so it is a little restricted by rhyme and pace... but bear with me =P

This lazy, crazy afternoon
A bed of earth is all I need
To pull the clouds down from above
'Cause cloudy eyes can help me see

Climbing up these rusty steps
Ticket stub clenched in my hand
Steam whistle lets me know
I'm drifting towards the promised land

Wearing rose tinted sunglasses
My life knocking around
In the broken suitcase on my lap
Empty space for all I haven't found

Metal clacks click off the miles
Rays soak into my veins
Sending shiver down my spine
The final leg in this tawdry race

The shadowed light is drawing near
Peter slips me the key
Gather up my hollow suitcase
And leave my glasses on the seat

And then there are the ones I write to my girl.... but those will remain unpublished =P
 
..

dark poetry :twisted: nice..

and just because people say dont be limited by rhyme and rhythm, its not a bad thing lol.. it all depends on how you like to write and what you like to read.. its all about personal preference..

~nib

Edit:
p.s. thank you for the compliment sorrowfulturnip.. :D
 
Wind
I was cold then, on that day
when you left, and never came back
Shaken, beyond one's comprehension
The ground before my feet, glistened
ever bright with each passing day
Loneliness had never felt
quite so lonely
The wind swirled 'round me,
like cold fingers, itching for a stab
at the heart, to pierce what gave me
Life
I at first, welcomed it
Wished it even, wished that I would blacken
from the Cold, that I would be
bathed in the dank depths of hell
Days passed, and for me no dawn
came to the rescue
I tried to raise my head again
But, my will had failed me,
The wind blew ever after

Shadows
Clouds across the barren sky
Crackle loudly, you hear their cry
then a flash, how come, why
you had to see someone dear just die

Terror stricken, memory fading
Head is spinning, possibilities creating
Where am I you ask, the brain Cremating
the thought of death, contemplating

Why do we see, when eyes are closed,
Nerves dead, but still we feel the wind blow
Minds so deadly, when darkness sees most
and you, the helpless, crying host

When consciousness arises, startles you so
Breathing heavy, you cannot go
Stray from sight, and dreams take you
That is why, after, you can still feel,
The wind blow


[/b]
 
. . .

I think I’ll draw a picture,
I’ll draw it with a twist,
I’ll draw it with a razor,
I’ll draw it on my wrist.
As I draw this picture,
A fountain will appear,
As this fountain flows,
My problems disappear.

(this 'poem' has been saved on my hard drive for sooooooo damned long, i cant remember if i found it on the Inet somewhere back in the day, or if its some sick poem i made up for english class to piss my teacher off back in high school.)

as for the above posters, i enjoyed your poems. writing is a talent that i never did develop. i'm artisitically impared you might say.
 
Sadly, most of my poems in English are translations from ones I make in Spanish, so their meaning may be lost. And I'm from Puerto Rico, we never have winter... it only get, at its lowest, I think, like 65 degrees Fahrenheit. We're a tropical island, so we're always bombarded by heat, and thank God for this time of the year when it all gets a lot fresher, no more sweating on my way to college!

The limited glass
hopes to turn, another
step, none
backwards.

It yearns for life, looking like
water. As it enters,
it penetrates the skin
and opens the river.

And those eyes that
give me sight once again.
They kill me. They destroy me.
Because they love me.

Because as I was born,
when I was named,
when I was loved,
I was cursed.

And life,
my vision of it,
is painted with blood.
And that blood was not spilt...

And, never having lived,
I died. I died.
I died without ever living.
And I'll never have lived.

It sounds really strange in English, but, no, it's not about suicide. It's an implied meaning, dug deep inside. :twisted:
 
This is another translated poem, I've already posted this here

To the Half Moon

A bow of
light, waiting for
an end.
The end of torture,
of pain.

It's what's
most important
before ending.
What solves the
problem, without it ending.

And, once it captures that
ray of light,
it glitters.
And it lets me
smile.

To once again
become me,
you be you.
Learn who I am,
and who are you.

Because, once fallen,
it's just a stain,
a memory.
Forever,
for my love.

Away, in
my own light,
it reflects
my lagoon of
tears.

All of my
memories of
the Moon.
Of my Half
Moons.

They abandon me,
but I accompany them.
Of life
I only know to cry
always.

And they become alive
in death,
my feelings.
Madness when
I am no longer mad.

Eternal echoes
in a small river
of emotions.
That will never
end.
 
..can i come live with you in Puerto Rico, Answa? lol..

like the poem btw, and yes.. translated poems are always weird in another language.. lol

~nib
 
This one isn't translated! I wrote it this afternoon before my history class:

And the clouds depart
and so it begins.
The Moon smiles
its unbroken smile
as twilight
rushes into our hearts.
And so I visit
my memories
with brightness of
heart and clarity
of mind.
And so I smile,
as the Moon smiles
its unbroken smile
and the silver dawns
inside my crying heart.
Which smiles its
stubborn smile.
And so with
Life the Moon
adheres to the fount
of my blood and
the heat of anger
boils my soul.
All the while I
smile that crooked
smile.
I live.
Yes, I live.
And the clouds, once again,
close into my Unsuspecting Moon.
 
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