i reign supreme, the grand snobess of poetry!
last night, for lack of visions, i went on a treasurehunt at coffeehouse. there were at least seven new poems to read and rate, so i dove right in.
Misery
The pain and sorrow cuts through like thousands of knives.
Everything is blurry and it's driving me crazy that I have to strive.
Why do I hurt so bad?
This irritable sensation is making me sad.
All this pain and guilt for something I didn't do or say.
Yet, everyone tries to say "it's going to be okay."
They don't understand the deal or my situation.
Only I know what's truly the motivation.
Why are people so confusing?
Are they playing mind games for winning or losing?
This troubling triumph is killing me inside.
Yet, I can't hold any of my feelings, so I have to decide.
Will someone please help me with this thing called... misery?
comments:
apt title.
-thinknerd
***
Love Song
Tell me how you feel.
And come on, be real.
I'll tell you everything.
All the love and joy you bring.
The excitement in your touch.
The love of hearing you makes me blush.
The love that makes me weak.
Your love makes it hard for me to even speak.
Lying on the green pasture and gazing into your beautiful brown eyes.
I feel as though I've been hypnotized.
Am I riding in a wave-tide?
A tide that represents your grace and pride.
Is this the world's finest feeling of lust?
Because I'll tell you now I don't know much.
But I do know that feeling of your arms embracing my soul.
It keeps me sane, calm, and eases, teases, and pleases my soul.
All the while under control.
Your tender voice speaks to my heart.
It skips a beat every single time you start.
How could I tell you all of this?
I'm scared of it knocking at you like a fist.
Hoping you didn't miss the miracle message.
But I don't care as long as your love keeps me on this same passage.
A way that I can, but won't escape.
A notion slash love that even I, Ashley can't fake.
Your emotions are true and real, too.
So much that how could I ever want let alone desire to forget you.
This is my love song to you.
comments:
alright, that last comment of mine was really mean, so im going to really try this time.
as i said to someone the other day -- rhyming couplets do not a poem make.
if youre in love with someone, its special. its unique. (at least, in theory.) make your poetry reflect that! im sure the person you love is excited that you wrote this for him/her. i would be, too, if it had been written for me. but the fact is, if you want your love to be more than just a stock term, stop using it as such. *what is your love?* is it a fire? is it a song? the bolder you get, the more interesting your poem, your feelings, your emotions become. is your love an ivory elephant?
think about your subject. its not enough that it means something to you (though thats a good start). you need to think about it. you need to make it unique to you. after you do that, THEN you can worry about stylistic things like rhyming and such.
just having the ambition to sit down and start writing is a good thing. dont stop. but i think i speak for most people here when i challenge you to step out of the realm of rhyming 'feel' and 'real' and into something more substantial.
if this poem was phase one, lets consider phase two free verse imagery. give it a shot?
-thinknerd
***
7 new quatrains no changes
Man against his pen,
locked in combat till the end.
If you ever read these words,
know I won by sunrise birds.
I feed my pupils lies these days,
they've learned not to look at dances.
To survive with eyes that do not roam,
we hide from your pollen glances.
Do you hear that sound in the distance,
I fear it every night.
Where I'm most alone three feet from you,
that distance must be right.
Let us admire raindrops,
and not dance while sunsets score.
Then let us know within our sin,
and forgive the saboteur.
As secretly as ground is cold,
we carry a secret test.
Weary by a weight so old,
that oh we might say yes.
I do not like to see men gamble,
they play by an unspoken rule.
Until the most dangerous person wins,
always beats a fool.
You cannot see it,
but there's a flickering flame.
There's no monopoly on centers,
in the shadows game.
comments:
the imagry in this is aaaaaaall over the place. where is the common thread?
-thinknerd
***
the rain burns as beautifully
as new books and we look,
also to the side, as the cars
drive by. there are better,
smarter hobbies that following
a four-lane highway until
we reach a town that mimics,
expertly, oblivion but lest
we imagine we could get pinned
down, trapped under the weight
of life in some larger town, look
to the side and never look straight
ahead. the clearest of vision only
comes to the dead.
comments:
my guess is that this is not your best work, but i can tell you have style.
congratulations: you win the thinknerd 'i wrote actual poetry' award.
-thinknerd
Misery
The pain and sorrow cuts through like thousands of knives.
Everything is blurry and it's driving me crazy that I have to strive.
Why do I hurt so bad?
This irritable sensation is making me sad.
All this pain and guilt for something I didn't do or say.
Yet, everyone tries to say "it's going to be okay."
They don't understand the deal or my situation.
Only I know what's truly the motivation.
Why are people so confusing?
Are they playing mind games for winning or losing?
This troubling triumph is killing me inside.
Yet, I can't hold any of my feelings, so I have to decide.
Will someone please help me with this thing called... misery?
comments:
apt title.
-thinknerd
***
Love Song
Tell me how you feel.
And come on, be real.
I'll tell you everything.
All the love and joy you bring.
The excitement in your touch.
The love of hearing you makes me blush.
The love that makes me weak.
Your love makes it hard for me to even speak.
Lying on the green pasture and gazing into your beautiful brown eyes.
I feel as though I've been hypnotized.
Am I riding in a wave-tide?
A tide that represents your grace and pride.
Is this the world's finest feeling of lust?
Because I'll tell you now I don't know much.
But I do know that feeling of your arms embracing my soul.
It keeps me sane, calm, and eases, teases, and pleases my soul.
All the while under control.
Your tender voice speaks to my heart.
It skips a beat every single time you start.
How could I tell you all of this?
I'm scared of it knocking at you like a fist.
Hoping you didn't miss the miracle message.
But I don't care as long as your love keeps me on this same passage.
A way that I can, but won't escape.
A notion slash love that even I, Ashley can't fake.
Your emotions are true and real, too.
So much that how could I ever want let alone desire to forget you.
This is my love song to you.
comments:
alright, that last comment of mine was really mean, so im going to really try this time.
as i said to someone the other day -- rhyming couplets do not a poem make.
if youre in love with someone, its special. its unique. (at least, in theory.) make your poetry reflect that! im sure the person you love is excited that you wrote this for him/her. i would be, too, if it had been written for me. but the fact is, if you want your love to be more than just a stock term, stop using it as such. *what is your love?* is it a fire? is it a song? the bolder you get, the more interesting your poem, your feelings, your emotions become. is your love an ivory elephant?
think about your subject. its not enough that it means something to you (though thats a good start). you need to think about it. you need to make it unique to you. after you do that, THEN you can worry about stylistic things like rhyming and such.
just having the ambition to sit down and start writing is a good thing. dont stop. but i think i speak for most people here when i challenge you to step out of the realm of rhyming 'feel' and 'real' and into something more substantial.
if this poem was phase one, lets consider phase two free verse imagery. give it a shot?
-thinknerd
***
7 new quatrains no changes
Man against his pen,
locked in combat till the end.
If you ever read these words,
know I won by sunrise birds.
I feed my pupils lies these days,
they've learned not to look at dances.
To survive with eyes that do not roam,
we hide from your pollen glances.
Do you hear that sound in the distance,
I fear it every night.
Where I'm most alone three feet from you,
that distance must be right.
Let us admire raindrops,
and not dance while sunsets score.
Then let us know within our sin,
and forgive the saboteur.
As secretly as ground is cold,
we carry a secret test.
Weary by a weight so old,
that oh we might say yes.
I do not like to see men gamble,
they play by an unspoken rule.
Until the most dangerous person wins,
always beats a fool.
You cannot see it,
but there's a flickering flame.
There's no monopoly on centers,
in the shadows game.
comments:
the imagry in this is aaaaaaall over the place. where is the common thread?
-thinknerd
***
the rain burns as beautifully
as new books and we look,
also to the side, as the cars
drive by. there are better,
smarter hobbies that following
a four-lane highway until
we reach a town that mimics,
expertly, oblivion but lest
we imagine we could get pinned
down, trapped under the weight
of life in some larger town, look
to the side and never look straight
ahead. the clearest of vision only
comes to the dead.
comments:
my guess is that this is not your best work, but i can tell you have style.
congratulations: you win the thinknerd 'i wrote actual poetry' award.
-thinknerd