Put poems,stories or any type of literature you have done or been working on.

butterfly wrote: I cant write poems at all so I jelous of everyone :P

I can’t write poetry either.

^^

hmmm.

You all realise that poetry isn’t all about rhyming verse.

This

Death stalks the living like a hidden killer waiting in the shadows, blade at the ready, glimmering like a crescent moon on a starry night. Feel his breath on your neck, the icy chill of the wind and his eyes, the unknown presence that arouses the hairs to stand to attention like so many soldiers waiting to enter the fray. Tick Tock Tick Tock, can you hear the clock ticking, seconds falling away into the void, falling forever, endlessly and motionless, carcases of life lost to the sand. The weight of living bears down on us like so much gravity, crushing us more and more, misshaping us, offering hunched back and crooked joints as time wears us away, eroding us like the waves wear away the cliff, crashing eternally. Can you taste him, the hidden presence of decay hidden in every meal, for you consume his work and devour his art to sustain life. His smell, carried on the wind that caresses your face like the gentle hand of a lover long lost, marking you, kissing you for you will be his. In the end, he will take you, his loving embrace cutting swathe through all that you have surrounded yourself with as he carries you away on blackened wings, free and loving. Embrace him for he loves and is merciful, he watches over you even now as you read this, whispering sweet nothings into your ear like a spectral Romeo wooing his Juliet. He is the first and last love you will ever know, he is legion, he is death and one day, he will come for his lost children and embrace you, his hug forever sweet and everlasting.



and this


We are but dust, waiting to be blown away by the gentle breeze of the ages as memories fade like a photograph left in the sun, bleaching our thoughts like the remnants of bone and desolate beings. Gone are the times of joy and laughter, snatched away mid breath by a thief who has no face and no name but is everywhere and nowhere. Born of both misery and happiness yet not one is better than the other as both are but a feeling to show life and should be rejoiced in equal parts of rapture and loathing. Each heartbeat brings us closer to life and death, like a glorious swan song spelling out our sweet sweet sorrows for the world to hear. Such beauty is lost upon the likes of man who was born with ears but lacks the ability to truly listen, he hears only the voice of his mind that speaks of his goodness and truth. Spread forth the gospel of pain and suffering that both life and death for the two dance endlessly and tirelessly, spinning on the edge of reason yet so close indeed. Fear not the end but embrace the start and shy away from the evils of life itself lest you be tainted and drink from its waters. For without life there is no death and death no life so celebrate them both for they are legion and they are hungry. Glorious is the puppet cut of its strings for it has no master and no life, yet no sorrow.

Cut your strings and be free.

and even this


Hark o the call the suffering children for they have no voice, a cry out in anguish suddenly silenced by the evils of man. Fear not the end sweet child for in the end there is much to rejoice, a end to sadness across the plagues our land.

The evils of war spread on swift wings, turning brother on brother and families distraught. Is there no end to the seeping madness sweet and seductive like a lover, she melds in our thought.

Innocent lives stolen, torn from existence by bloodied hands and dirty fingernails, rendering heartache without mercy. Children converted and mutated into mindless killers with a taste for blood that is unquenchable renders them thirsty.

The time of man, ruled by a iron fist of officials and diplomats, comfortably placed in the safety of their brethren. Millions extinguished at a moments notice, expendable soldiers march to their demise, fresh charred flesh that won’t see heaven.

Lives lost needlessly, the children cry, parents grieve, all which falls like tears from angels, absorbed into the blood soaked earth no splash for nothin. Why do we die, destroy our lives, for fear of living. How long until god himself pushes that button?



Althogh the last one had some rhyming verse it was still constructed in long couplets an an abstract style.

you don’t have to have 4-10 word sentences set up in a specific rhythmic pattern to make poetry.

There is so many different styles and types, its as diverse as life itself.

LIFE’S A SHIT SANDWICH..EAT IT OR STARVE!

Chilly man wrote: My secret love


My love flies to me on ethereal wings,
'Tis so wonderful to feel the joy that she brings.
Her words pierce my heart like cupid’s quick arrows,
I hear her words in my mind like the song of the sparrows.

I crave her messages, I wait just to hear,
Her words in my puter, so sweet and so dear.
She lightens my heart, she quickens my pulse,
She talks and she laughs and she gives me some luls.

I know what she looks like, her description was clear,
But I know her sweet heart, I have nothing to fear.
I have a big crush on this girl here on-line,
If we never meet it will prolly be fine.

For I have known love now, my heart has been healed,
That hole in my heart has been mended and healed.
I sit here and wait to see her come on,
I’ll sit here all night till mornings sweet dawn.

I’m happy, I’m free, I feel so alive,
I’ve found a good friend, and that ain’t no jive.
So, come to me sweet angel, and bring me some joy,
I love you so much, I’m one happy boy.

Richie

this is every good poem!^^ like the secert love part lol

Thanks Mar...Sorry, I can’t tell ya her name. I promised her.

Das Wolf wrote: hmmm.

You all realise that poetry isn’t all about rhyming verse.

This

Death stalks the living like a hidden killer waiting in the shadows, blade at the ready, glimmering like a crescent moon on a starry night. Feel his breath on your neck, the icy chill of the wind and his eyes, the unknown presence that arouses the hairs to stand to attention like so many soldiers waiting to enter the fray. Tick Tock Tick Tock, can you hear the clock ticking, seconds falling away into the void, falling forever, endlessly and motionless, carcases of life lost to the sand. The weight of living bears down on us like so much gravity, crushing us more and more, misshaping us, offering hunched back and crooked joints as time wears us away, eroding us like the waves wear away the cliff, crashing eternally. Can you taste him, the hidden presence of decay hidden in every meal, for you consume his work and devour his art to sustain life. His smell, carried on the wind that caresses your face like the gentle hand of a lover long lost, marking you, kissing you for you will be his. In the end, he will take you, his loving embrace cutting swathe through all that you have surrounded yourself with as he carries you away on blackened wings, free and loving. Embrace him for he loves and is merciful, he watches over you even now as you read this, whispering sweet nothings into your ear like a spectral Romeo wooing his Juliet. He is the first and last love you will ever know, he is legion, he is death and one day, he will come for his lost children and embrace you, his hug forever sweet and everlasting.



and this


We are but dust, waiting to be blown away by the gentle breeze of the ages as memories fade like a photograph left in the sun, bleaching our thoughts like the remnants of bone and desolate beings. Gone are the times of joy and laughter, snatched away mid breath by a thief who has no face and no name but is everywhere and nowhere. Born of both misery and happiness yet not one is better than the other as both are but a feeling to show life and should be rejoiced in equal parts of rapture and loathing. Each heartbeat brings us closer to life and death, like a glorious swan song spelling out our sweet sweet sorrows for the world to hear. Such beauty is lost upon the likes of man who was born with ears but lacks the ability to truly listen, he hears only the voice of his mind that speaks of his goodness and truth. Spread forth the gospel of pain and suffering that both life and death for the two dance endlessly and tirelessly, spinning on the edge of reason yet so close indeed. Fear not the end but embrace the start and shy away from the evils of life itself lest you be tainted and drink from its waters. For without life there is no death and death no life so celebrate them both for they are legion and they are hungry. Glorious is the puppet cut of its strings for it has no master and no life, yet no sorrow.

Cut your strings and be free.

and even this


Hark o the call the suffering children for they have no voice, a cry out in anguish suddenly silenced by the evils of man. Fear not the end sweet child for in the end there is much to rejoice, a end to sadness across the plagues our land.

The evils of war spread on swift wings, turning brother on brother and families distraught. Is there no end to the seeping madness sweet and seductive like a lover, she melds in our thought.

Innocent lives stolen, torn from existence by bloodied hands and dirty fingernails, rendering heartache without mercy. Children converted and mutated into mindless killers with a taste for blood that is unquenchable renders them thirsty.

The time of man, ruled by a iron fist of officials and diplomats, comfortably placed in the safety of their brethren. Millions extinguished at a moments notice, expendable soldiers march to their demise, fresh charred flesh that won’t see heaven.

Lives lost needlessly, the children cry, parents grieve, all which falls like tears from angels, absorbed into the blood soaked earth no splash for nothin. Why do we die, destroy our lives, for fear of living. How long until god himself pushes that button?



Althogh the last one had some rhyming verse it was still constructed in long couplets an an abstract style.

you don’t have to have 4-10 word sentences set up in a specific rhythmic pattern to make poetry.

There is so many different styles and types, its as diverse as life itself.

Those were good Wolf, and thanks for the advice. Maybe I can learn from you.

thats fine!^_^

if you look into the eyes of a soilder you see what he or shes seen
the battles that make people weep
the sorrow that they carry
the love for family and the hate for enemys
you see lost and sadness
when the soilder comes back from the war and you look into his eyes you see
relif and no knowing what to do next
when you see a soilder and look into his or her eyes remember why your free

Mar_hinata wrote: if you look into the eyes of a soilder you see what he or shes seen
the battles that make people weep
the sorrow that they carry
the love for family and the hate for enemys
you see lost and sadness
when the soilder comes back from the war and you look into his eyes you see
relif and no knowing what to do next
when you see a soilder and look into his or her eyes remember why your free

So true Marisa, my pop was in the war and you could see in his eyes the painful memories that he held from those times. He would share some but others he kept locked away. I feel so extremely sorry that he had to go through what he did. He was such a gentle and honost man in every sense of the word. He passed away two years ago now and I am glad that he is now free of the regret and pain he felt everyday since he returned from war. No one should ever have to go through that in their life. Great poem!!!!

thank you!^^ i lost my uncle to the war were fighting now!^^ thats why i wrote the poem i was thinking of him..though i didnt know him that well all the people around him loved him very much

I’ll Be There Soon
— — — — — — — —

The phone rings
It is my duty
She wakes me up
With her quiet beauty
She says 'Good Morning'
I ask, 'How are You?'
She whispers
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
{chorus}
Take me away,
To a better day
I need you here
To be with me, Dear.
I feel your love
Love from high above
But there I’m still alone
I need you flesh, blood, and bone.

Shes my, my baby girl
Shes my entire world
And I am hers
But I am here
And she is there
Oh so far away.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
I say 'I’ll be there
Soon enough
I’ll try this weekend
But it may be tough'
She cries in joy
Whispers 'Baby Boy'
I say 'Baby girl,
You are my world.
I love you so
Just want you to know
You are the only thing I want in life.
I want you as my wife
Eventually
Cant you see
You are everything to me.'

She cries out
{chorus}
I’ll be there soon
I’ll be there soon
I’ll beee there soon.
Just wait for me
We have a plan baby
I want to be there
I want to be there now
But I cannot.
Well get through this somehow
I love you.

{chorus}
I’m on my way, now....

Mar_hinata wrote: thank you!^^ i lost my uncle to the war were fighting now!^^ thats why i wrote the poem i was thinking of him..though i didnt know him that well all the people around him loved him very much

That was beautiful Mar, I’m sorry about your uncle. He died serving his nation. The truest love is to give your life for another. May I try to find someway to send that to our soldiers in Afghanistan? They would love it.

sure i have a new one that i wrote today ill post in a little bit

friends with differents

He laughs and jokes around
no one sees the real him
the guy that is sad and thinks
he doesnt have many firends
but he has so many firends
if you look into his eyes
you can see his lost and lonelyness
Many people dont get this guy
they dont know what hes gone though
theres a girl i know that she worries about every one
But when she talks with this guy
she feels his sadness and sorrow
and knows he needs a friend who understands him
A firend of the girl I know shes crazy in love wit this guy
but the friend doesnt know or understand the guy
because she hasnt gone though much
The girl i know she worries over this friend of hers and this guy because there her friends
The girls and the guy have namy different personalitys but they all have one thing in common there human

what
no comments on my song

Archangel Azrael wrote: what
no comments on my song

Skully, What is there to comment about? All your songs are from your heart and great. We feel your love for your g/f. We know you are happy. All your friends care about is your happiness. Just be careful, you wear your heart on your sleeve. Girls have a way sometimes to rip it off and tear it up. Love, Skulls, but keep a little on guard. Don’t let your heart be broken again. In one way, you and I are alike, we fall in love (infatuation) easily, and we can set ourselves up for heartache. You are my friend, I always want you to be happy.

Mar_hinata wrote: friends with differents

He laughs and jokes around
no one sees the real him
the guy that is sad and thinks
he doesnt have many firends
but he has so many firends
if you look into his eyes
you can see his lost and lonelyness
Many people dont get this guy
they dont know what hes gone though
theres a girl i know that she worries about every one
But when she talks with this guy
she feels his sadness and sorrow
and knows he needs a friend who understands him
A firend of the girl I know shes crazy in love wit this guy
but the friend doesnt know or understand the guy
because she hasnt gone though much
The girl i know she worries over this friend of hers and this guy because there her friends
The girls and the guy have namy different personalitys but they all have one thing in common there human

Mar, that was sweet and moving. Your friends are very lucky, especially the guy. I hope you and he will be friends forever.

do you not see who the guy is? he is YOU! and i hope you find happyness and mybe your not talking with me now and thats fine..i worte that poem yestrday with you in mind..because ive been thinking alot about you and amber and what has and is going down..and theres is a side you dont show any one but i know its there beacuase i have one to!and amber cant relate to that...

Well, guess you didn’t read my PM’s yet. Nothing like blowing our secret and telling everyone when YOU didn’t want them to know. I love your ditziness. I’m gonna send you some blond hair dye. Your still the best though.


Guess since it’s out and the poem I wrote formerly titled “Amber” (now titled “My secret love)was really about you, I’ll try to write a new one just for you. It may not be good but it comes from the heart.


Mar-Hinata
(She didn’t want me to say her real name on here)

I was lonely and sad and needed some friends.
I used the puter to do it but just found dead ends.
I went to some sites that were nice but were bland,
I found some there too so delightful and grand.
But those were just filled with porn and abuse.
I thought to myself what the hell was the use?


Chat rooms were freaky, and I can’t talk about comics,
Anime, gamers and cartoons held no promise.
Then I found MvC it seemed so delightful,
The people seemed cool, 'course some were just frightful.
I watched and I watched and liked what I saw,
then I spied one girl that was liked by them all.

She seemed nice, compasionate, witty and kind,
She could also be ditzy and out of her mind.
I watched her and talked and she found me funny,
Then I got too nasty and she called me dummy.
I flirted and flirted but she didn’t care,
She didn’t take crap and would give me her stare

^^

Her words pierced my heart and in love did I fall,
She wouldn’t act smitten, wouldn’t give me a call.
Finally, she gave me the name of a friend,
So, I thought my pursuit was now at an end.
Her friend and I hit it right off at the start,
But shortly thereafter the friend acted smart.

We fought and she changed and then acted so sweet,
Then she’d change again and punch me in the teeth.
I got tired of playing and told Mar all about it.
She said that she liked me and I wanted to shout it.
I told her I’d loved her right from the start.
She said that she too cared and melted my heart.

She said that we should exhibit no drama,
But I finally told the lady called Momma.
Then Mar made a reference to our love affair,
So, here is my poem about our love so rare.
It may not work out, may break each our heart,
But we’ll give it a try and this is our start.

I love and adore you.

Richie

Bump (for Hinata to see).