do not read lol
i write a lot of stupid crap. i used to have a thread for this ages ago, but it was filled with crap so i deleted it. i'll periodically add to this thread until i cbf. i am a thousand monkeys typing on a thousand typewriters, one day ill do something cool.
i never know what to title stuff I (If they go) Beware the burrow you dug With the love you gave: When dug too deep, it's No more than a grave. II (Inside-out) Do not become the tree That leaves but never barks, Termites come for dinner When daylight turns to dark. III (Overwhelm) If ever you feel an ocean Start brewing from your emotion: Take care how much you let them drink- Your loved ones, you will surely sink. --- I like to sit and watch where the ant goes The single ant on its own, heading towards who knows? Maybe it's a scout, looking for leftover food, Or maybe it's lost, forgotten by its brood, Or maybe it's slow, making its way home- So I put it on my finger, and now I'm not alone. --- In my mind, there's four Walls made out of skin. In my mind, there's three Windows painted in. In my mind, there's two Chairs but not a table And in my mind, there's a Boy that is unstable. --- I am staring at the sky, It is grey. As is the smoke, as was this day. I am staring at the ground, It is also grey. Why is everything so grey? I am staring at the ashes, They are grey. As are my memories of yesterday. I am staring at my hand, It is not grey. Why can't everything be grey? --- lungful of air choking me like a stale cigarette this city night is a blur colour and screaming dreams are made and turned to dust on the sidewalk nothing but noise and pollution nothing but cement in the sky train screeches by twelve suicides four hours to dawn nothing left anymore but i need you here edit: dunno how to add specific labels, only "Adult" shows. w/e, dont think it needs one anyway. there's the word "suicide", but nothing implying as such. |
These are cool! I particularly like the in my mind one it has a really good way of making you read it in a certain way.
The grey one too. Powerful end! |
thanks mate.
The sky is blue, grey peeking over the horizon; I never knew that beauty could be found in short gasps. Although it's true that the ground bleeds mud when it's cried on- The moment of beauty never lasts. Yet I had lost, living in this false dichotomy And had I tossed this doppelganger of me away: It may have crossed my mind, brain like a lobotomy- To try and live just another day. Somehow I live as my foundations erode and shake, But I don't give in to my putrid and failing mind. Like an olive, pitted and crushed in the jar I fake; The glass is broken, myself in kind. --- I cup my only hands outside Of my only window, and I try to catch the rain For a thirst that never quenches. Yet I only seem to catch the spit Of those who laud above me. The hand-cupped spit is all I drink For the thirst that never quenches. --- A river of melancholy diverges Into the ocean of me. Although all rivers divide and merge: There is no end to my sea. Bony hands can't grasp the shore, The sand kept slipping through. Wanton needs, my fingers raw; The cliff-face seemed too new. Militant approach to love, forsaken- As I suffocate slowly. Never again will this pill be taken: The only cure for lonely. |
I am the half-remembered dream Of someone that is awake, And as the seconds flow Into minutes, into hours: The dream flows away just as steadily- Like sand falling through the gaps Of a cupped hand. All I have been and all I will be, Are the grains of sand that had Stuck to the tear-stained hands Of those who had let it fall free. --- Mary Sue aside me We met in a dream, Countless days repeated. She came to hold me- My will defeated. I cannot fathom The scent I whiffed. Her auburn hair; A paradigm shift. Backlit eyes staring, Lips cut like a maw. A predator, I Would soon know no more. She laid me down And took me to slumber. We squeezed our hands- A shotgun's thunder. i guess it's time to change the thread title. "Mary Sue aside me", im a creative genius!!! except it's the only one with a title... |
There are four walls and a floor, Within my mind, a chain-locked door. There are three drawers and a bed, With only one place to rest my head. There are two windows and a mirror, Yet none of them do I consider. There is one room and I am in it- A personal hell with no exit. --- One two, one two, one two, one two Be sure to step with purpose, too. See a window, slight reflection Pull down top; neck correction. Someone walking opposite, oh Stare ahead, hold breath, don't let it show. They've passed you, it's safe now Exhale slowly, mind whited out. Don't forget to walk, automatic, Neck bent down, ears filled with static. Now it's a group, senses heighten- Pull out your phone, grip and chest tightened. Safe again, thoughts left in disarray- Reflection, fix hair astray. Person, pull back shoulders slightly. Others around smiling brightly. Laughing, laughing, laughing, laughing- stop. They're laughing at you, heart starts to drop. It's all in your head, calm down, relax; Don't turn around and reverse your tracks. You'll lose all progress, places to be- I wish I was at home, fast asleep. yes these suck. the second one might be relatable to some people here, idk, it's how i felt as i walked to the shops today to get some codral from the pharmacy LOL |
I looked upon the mirror In vein, I see myself And a pitter-patter Of rain hitting the floor. The rain's flow quickly thrums, Fingers held disjointed. A tinkling on the ground- Broken glass left pointed. --- Sitting on the hardwood floor, Playing a game of chance. Pair shook in hand, let them fall; I'm watching the dice dance. They both fell to a one, I guess I'll see it through Despite my terrible luck- As I struck: One, two. I picked them up and dropped Them down again to the floor, But I guess my luck stopped as I stared at the dice once more: Two. The lowest number. Again, I'll see it through, Despite my terrible fate- As I sate: One, two. I felt cheated, unrest- My thirst could not be quenched. Is this fate at its best? Yet hands gripped, unclenched. Snake eyes again, staring- Maybe I should start anew. Despite my fear inside, I abide: One, two. I could not fathom what had Occured to me on this night. Had a saint bowed down and Tried to rid me of this blight? My addiction ran course through fate and chance- So for this night, the dice have their last dance. i want to try write one about the external world one day that second one, taken out of the context of the poem, could be skirting a rule idk |
Like a dry sponge. It's time again, Night after night Crippling me Soon after Ten. Spoon filled with my Deadly dessert. Wrapping me, I Began to hurt. The lust has come, Need fulfilling; Temperature fixed- A conundrum. Ready at last! Tap tap, tap tap. Braced as I sat, Shadows are cast. Metal and skin Came together: This river is like A long lost kin. I took the plunge. --- I (looking at her) There is an angel at the bus stop- Not my bus stop, but across the street. Flaming, red hair and white skin-tight top. It's a shame that we will never meet. I look down at my phone, can't be seen. Last glance I stole: adjusting her skirt- Navy blue, sprouting legs long and lean. Even her shadow could make me hurt. I glanced up again, needing my fix: At the same moment, she looked downwards- I caught a flash of blue, eyes a sea. I thought my mind might be playing tricks. Sun emphasizing her hair grandly, I figured a halo might be seen. As she grasped her black bag handily, I realised the bus had come near. I needed to act, quickly, with haste- Standing up suddenly, arm lifting: I waved at her, hand nearly a wing. At the last second, she turned her face As the vehicle came to stop in place. II (looking at him) There's a man at the bus stop, sitting. Mysterious and dark, features sharp, White t-shirt, stretch black jeans tight-fitting. 'Cross the road from me echos a harp. I quickly glanced down, checking my phone, Pretending to, at least. Cheeks flushed As i think about his figure, honed; With dark blonde hair, side cropped, top brushed. Enough time had passed, I looked up- Eyes sparkled a second, he looked down; Like honey in colour, light brown. That glance filled me like a flowing cup. His expression changed, lips pursed. Wonder what he was thinking about? Suddenly, a motion, hands clenched As he stood up. My heart felt filled out. Bus arriving, I stood up as well, Put my phone in my jeans, facing him. His arm in the air, my chest caved in- Boys shouldn't cry, but I felt tears swell: Because he was waving to that girl. first one might be questionable if you read it a certain way, but it's kinda vague so it should be okay second one i tried to do two points of view, idk if i pulled it off. the concept seemed cool tho. |
who even reads these edition
red apples the blade pierced within- juices dribbled down, a sweet fragrance. sickeningly crimson. --- 99 bottles of beer on the wall, Fortnight recycling left them no more. --- I'm the boy who still laces shoes in rabbit ears; Who goes to a concert, and never claps or cheers; Who never asks to help, but will never say no; Who hates new things, but will still give it a go. I'm the friend that can never fit in a group; That repeats the same song on an endless loop; That can't smile for a picture, but can pull a face; That can disappear from their lives without a trace. I'm the monster who hates having to help others; Who selfishly uses people, and his brother; Who lies, and steals, and cheats without a single care; Who sees a fresh patch of skin to mar and tear. I'm the child that wants to live in a dreamland; That gets scared of strangers and likes to hold hands; That watches cartoons and likes milk with his cookies; That's so shy of girls she may as well have cooties. I'm the man who can't take responsibility; Who looks back and sees all the lost opportunities; Who pretends it's okay, but is drowning in fear; Who wonders and hopes that an end will soon come near. i'm lonely |
The little flower A happy little flower Opened up as the sun Gave its morning wishes, In this cool, early hour. A lovely lady, local Came upon the flower: "Oh, how pretty!" she said, As she plucked herself a petal. The flower smiled at her As she turned her back to leave. The flower felt lonely, But tried its best not to grieve. A cautious woman, careful, Crept slowly to the flower: "Poor thing, darling," she said As she plucked herself a petal. The flower wondered why She also crept away; "Please," the flower begged Unheard, "come back and stay". A pretty princess, wattle Strung crown upon her head- "What an ugly flower!" she said As she plucked every last petal. The flower now understood The cruelty of another. As the flower looked upwards, Its last friend had gone, day had passed- The little flower drooped and withered. a wattle is some australian tree thing. theyre pretty. that poem was not about my failed relationships. nope. not at all. i dont take breakups badly at all. |
the glass slipper fit you perfectly, but you've stepped so hard it shattered,
and your feet bled every step you took in your castle also made of glass- but you never noticed the footprints you left behind. the prince constantly watches the princess and she never knows, she can't see outside. she lives in her mind and craves for a soul to also live there, but her mouth stays closed, as does her mind. yet the castle with walls made of flesh she imagines herself hiding behind is still made of glass it only goes one way, it is a one-way mirror, because she can only see herself. --- lying to people, even though i dont have to crying about it, even so i cant stop it i am a fly attracted to trash, there's food that smells good. you were a spider, web provider; i need you, go away. incoherence, misunderstanding- im hungry again. insolence, mistakes were made tonight: choke down a meal for them. i met her at an art gallery fingers to the base an exhibition, negative space get it out of me we shook hands, and you gave me a hug disgusting, filthy i'm sorry i can't hold you close by crawling little bug im shredding old tshirts, overworn rip tear rip tear rip hold the scissors firm or they might slip cutting yourself down i gave a bear a hug, he smiled please stop hurting me i made a home for a little bee and yet i cant stop cant bring myself to care again, but im telling a story. nevertheless, today's gone once more- on every second line. stability is fleeting and so is my ability to be bothered punctuating anything. |
What day is it today? I don't know, Another yesterday? What day was it yesterday? I don't know, Will tomorrow be today? What day is it tomorrow? I don't know- Just an everyday sorrow. --- My daylight decaying, I've met your night; Evergreens blacken- Even the grass is the same on either side. Rusty partition is falling apart- What fence is there left? You've fallen to the dark side of my heart. And yet I'm the one falling, cyclical Game of cat and mouse: Our days spent in glances and upturned lips. Back and forth, back and forth, never-ending- I'm staring too much. On your bony hand, I'd fashion a ring. Although something is amiss, incomplete; My head is hurting. We've never spoken much, or shared a seat And I discover the truth, chest tightens. My heart is hurting, Because we will never be more than friends. --- Her eyes dance, like stars upon a lake; Wind-strewn hair blowing gently. That smile is enough to make me hurt- Because that smile is fake. Primrose scent: alluring, sweet. Jaw cut hard like an actress, And yet her performance is failing. Just as we will never meet. Living a lie, an endless battle- I've seen her face when she cries, But still she smiles, gets on with her day: Follows the crowd-like cattle. She fights herself, skin tough as thick hide And never looks towards me. Like a terracotta warrior: She's hollow on the inside. friendzone edition i got super downer so i couldnt write for a few days actually the last one is kinda terrible, but i was playing with styles |
Thanks for sharing. These are so great. You're very talented. I write too. It helps.
|
thanks! though i think i'm only decent sometimes, like if i'm really inspired or if the thing pretty much writes itself. when i actually have to think of what to write myself, it ends up quite terribly. good example is what i did just now.
12 hours ago, I saw your face: Tears in your eyes, we fought at your place. 11 hours ago, the train I disembarked left me in the rain. 10 hours ago, I'm at our park; The place we met, our names carved in bark. 9 hours ago. Sitting alone on the park bench, drenched to the bone. 8 hours ago: Walking, walking. I don't even know where im going 7 hours ago, at a store: buying candy, pills and hard liquor. 6 hours ago, on my way home. Baby why wont you pick up the phone? 5 hours ago, I sent a text From the train I'm on. My stop is next. 4 hours ago, I was yawning As I passed my apartment's awning. 3 hours ago, you dont pick up- so I pick up a pill, lift my cup. 2 hours ago, no response. A call or a text is all I want. 1 hour ago, feeling sleepy; Muddled thoughts, it's hard to think deeply. Just now, I'm starting to regret that I never left food out for my cat. obviously not some kinda weird suicide note or w/e. i dont have a cat. or a relationship. or money for alcohol. :c |
You're very welcome! Keep up the superb work! :thumbup:
Maybe I should post some of my stuff and start my own thread. *shrugs* :satisfied: |
it's been a while edition
Waste of breath Waste of time Waste of hers Waste of mine Waste of space Waste of years Waste of blood Waste of tears Waste of food Waste of life Raise the sleeve Drop the knife what am i even doing also this one's terrible, expect something better later. i literally haven't written a single poem since the last post i made. |
wow i love it
|
idk
Doom.
Towards my Shuffling feet and As I step forward with Agitation, handholds shake Whilst hands and arms quake in Every thought I have about you; stop Holding me down, my hesitation brings up What is left in my stomach, thoughts that are Memories I can't forget— as dreams I regret keep Forcing my feet forward, climbing the stairs forgetting Whether or not my arms will swing side by side next to me, Just as you used to swing by my side, but I push myself ahead. Trying to forget the pain and misery, to search for thoughts I'd left– And I make my final decision to meet my doom, walking up step by step btw read it down-up once you're done, if you didn't get that from the last line i had this thought in my head of a story you read down the stairs, but the story is actually going upstairs who knows lol |
who even reads poetry in 2016
Tired I'm so tired, my head is thrumming. Let me sleep- As I hear a happy bee humming. I'm so tired, I'll just rest my eyes. Let me sleep- As an upset baby next door cries. I'm so tired, just lying in bed. Let me sleep- As the sun comes up, my vision red. I'm so tired, so I take these pills. Let me sleep- As a little bluebird outside trills. I'm so tired, I tip back the glass. Let me sleep- As the man down the street mows his grass. I'm so tired, door knocked off its beam. Let me sleep- As I faintly hear my mother's scream. I'm so tired, darkness quickly creeps. Let me dream- As I drift to an eternal sleep. --- I'm stood at the mirror, staring at The screw in my head; It's come loose, undone. I reach for the screwdriver, kept in A box near my bed. My routine begun. Gripping the handle firm, I place the Head into the notch- It fits in just right. Staring into the mirror, I turn My right hand and watch: Twist, twist, twist it tight- As is my prescription for the night. I'm stood at the mirror, staring at The screw in my head; It's come loose once more. I reach for the screwdriver, kept in A box near my bed. It falls to the floor. Fraught with anxiety, I grip The loose screw by hand, But it does not twist. My efforts for naught, it comes undone Like fingers through sand: It slips from my fist- As the loose screw cease to exist. I look to the floor and see a box; Crumpled pill packages missing stock- And as my vision begins to fade, I hear a faint tinkling sound made: My reflection bloodied and maimed. damn, those escalated pretty quickly the second one was born from the idea of actually "having a screw loose" anyway enjoy or whatever. i still feel like i can't write for crap compared to last year, but at least i have ideas now |
im convinced 99% of views in this thread are mine
The Mirror
Talking to who? --- Standing at the train station Choke. Lack of air, it's hard the breathe When there's people around me. Choke. Eyes are burning, people stare- Or are they even still there? Choke. Have to check: left right, left right; Empty peripheral sight. Choke. They're gone, but I can't relax As I stare down at train tracks. Choke. Little steps forward: one, two- As my train comes into view. Choke. Throat tightens, it's not the day, And I take a step away. Breathe. i couldn't think of anything interesting to write, so i just wrote my thoughts i tried to make it interesting through the presentation/style, though. |
Cx
vice This is a story of love gone astray: A boy with a girl who won't go away. Begging for freedom As you hold me in a vice day by day. You've consumed me in burning cinders And left me dry in frozen winters. I'm suffocating As your hand comes near, I choke on fingers. Her violent escapades violate me Like a tsunami, waters rising free. Our rivers diverged But you were still a part of my sea, "Wake up" you whisper, it's time for our date, I follow her with a hunger to sate. A predator's smile As we feast, the vice grip fills me with hate. I must keep it down, I beg and plead you- But the mirror can't lie, that stare is true. Her hand comes closer, The grip loosens, my ritual is through- A tale of love at a quarter to two. im pretty terrible at writing ED stuff, kinda embarrassing for me it's pretty relevant to me atm so there's not much else i can think about maybe tomorrow i'll have good ideas |
All times are GMT +1. The time now is 04:04 AM. |
Powered by vBulletin® Version 3.6.4
Copyright ©2000 - 2024, Jelsoft Enterprises Ltd.