Poll: Quick!Make a Poem!

[Psycho Cat Industries]

Make up a poem and post it.

For me:

Oh that sweet old girl,there was never one like her.
She was strong but indecisive.
Her choices were fickle but powerful.
Habits often fell on her,but more often then not,she invented new things to entertain herself.
Sometimes she fought,sometimes she cried.
Her beauty couldn't be greater then in her smarter side.
That place that she so loved,she cluttered and cleaned.
She played and worked and slacked sometimes,
yet you could see the love in her eyes.
that Old Girl Humanity.


Now you go.
Create a boredom baby!

 

[nukethetuna]

Post said write poem
Haikus are for the lazy
My choice? Obvious

 

[Wuffykins]

Post said write poem
Haikus are for the lazy
My choice? Obvious

And yet time taken
Ensuring line length and pace
Lazy? I think not

 

[nukethetuna]

Post said write poem
Haikus are for the lazy
My choice? Obvious

And yet time taken
Ensuring line length and pace
Lazy? I think not

You speak the truth, friend
It's more effort than it seems
My speed increases!

 

[Phlakes]

There once was a user named Phlakes
Who was deathly afraid of damn rakes
His stories are banal
With sex, he likes...

Okay, I'm quitting before something bad happens.

 

[RatRace123]

How does a poem go?
That's not something I really know.
I suppose it involves thinking of rhymes,
but get with the times.
Poetry's a dead art, of rotting flesh it does smell.
Even so, it's still a hell of a lot better than typing "LOL"

 

[Kiba The Wolf]

Tonight, at 2am, I will walk the railroad tracks home.
It will take all night to reach my destination.
Just in time for the sun to break the sky,
and for me to do it all over again.
I have waked the railroad tracks my whole life.
It doesn?t matter whether I want to or not.
I walk the railroad tracks
And that?s all I know

 

[Kiba The Wolf]

I am afraid
I know how this will end
I know you
I know what's really going on below
I've seen your face, your true colors
I've seen the way things are
I know this place
I've walked these empty halls
I know what's waiting for me
I know how this will end
I've seen the monster at the end of this book
And it is me

 

[crudus]

Tasks were charged to me
To write a poem for thee
mission accomplished

 

[Kiba The Wolf]

I didn?t know it
I never dared put my pen to the page
I had not enough courage to write my words
I feared no one would care
But listen, dammit, I am a poet

 

[Bravo 21]

balls to the walls
locked and loaded
the Duke is Back Baby!

 

[gentleben]

Post said write poem
Haikus are for the lazy
My choice? Obvious

And yet time taken
Ensuring line length and pace
Lazy? I think not

It's widely accepted that when being made in English, Haikus do not require the restrictive 5, 7, 5 morae format (NB: not syllables, they are different things, and not on which is what the japanese count in their haikus). Jack Kerouac said this about haikus:

"The American Haiku is not exactly the Japanese Haiku. The Japanese Haiku is strictly disciplined to seventeen syllables but since the language structure is different I don't think American Haikus (short three-line poems intended to be completely packed with Void of Whole) should worry about syllables because American speech is something again...bursting to pop.

Above all, a Haiku must be very simple and free of all poetic trickery and make a little picture and yet be as airy and graceful as a Vivaldi Pastorella."

 

[Kiba The Wolf]

Red, blue, black, and white
I see many colors as I fade
Different shades of death

 

[ZeroMachine]

"No."

... That's the best poetry I can do. One word. At least it rhymes with itself.

 

[StBishop]

I know you said to make one up but I'd rather post a good one than attempt a poem that has little to no meaning and isn't really poetic.

So I give you "The Harlot's House"

We caught the tread of dancing feet,
We loitered down the moonlit street,
And stopped beneath the harlot's house.

Inside, above the din and fray,
We heard the loud musicians play
The "Treues Liebes Herz" of Strauss.

Like strange mechanical grotesques,
Making fantastic arabesques,
The shadows raced across the blind.

We watched the ghostly dancers spin
To sound of horn and violin,
Like black leaves wheeling in the wind.

Like wire-pulled automatons,
Slim silhouetted skeletons
Went sidling through the slow quadrille.

The took each other by the hand,
And danced a stately saraband;
Their laughter echoed thin and shrill.

Sometimes a clockwork puppet pressed
A phantom lover to her breast,
Sometimes they seemed to try to sing.

Sometimes a horrible marionette
Came out, and smoked its cigarette
Upon the steps like a live thing.

Then, turning to my love, I said,
"The dead are dancing with the dead,
The dust is whirling with the dust."

But she--she heard the violin,
And left my side, and entered in:
Love passed into the house of lust.

Then suddenly the tune went false,
The dancers wearied of the waltz,
The shadows ceased to wheel and whirl.

And down the long and silent street,
The dawn, with silver-sandalled feet,
Crept like a frightened girl.

- Oscar Wilde

 

[MrOramri]

A walrus in a tree
How could that possibly be?
Sitting on a flimsy branch
Lighting his stove with a match
Cooking a roast from his nest
Tidying up for his guest
Just one thing wrong with his tree
Where will his guest sit for tea

A Walrus In a Tree

 

[callmegreen]

Roses are red. Violets are blue. Here's the heart of a Templar. I just knifed for you.-Altair Ibn Lah Ahad

 

[Sonic Doctor]

Here are a couple I spewed out, no titles of course:

1.)

Darkness surrounds all,
My depression finds me here,
On my bed of blue.

No work can be found,
In this world of nothingness.
Who will save me now?

2.)

The bluebirds sing to the icicle-hearted.
They are the ones that will soon be departed.

The hummingbirds buzz by the ears of the lazy.
Moving along like a snail, their futures are hazy.

The whippoorwills call to lonely fools.
Their loves are lost, because they played by the rules.

Go away silly birds!
Stop making metaphors about people's lives with these words!