Poetics and Poetry Discussion


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  • Rookie - 470 Points delilah contrapunctal (11/22/2014 7:02:00 AM) Post reply | Read 1 reply
    8 person liked.
    3 person did not like.

    an inaner format one could not find
    even
    if
    using
    but a piece of one's mind...

    Replies for this message:
    • Rookie - 470 Points Havilah Dammette (11/22/2014 9:58:00 AM) Post reply

      format is foolish when no poetry on you make big word feel small like hernia on sea horse your soul kind, rhyme is good.

  • Rookie - 297 Points Frederick James Bradley Moore (11/21/2014 11:21:00 PM) Post reply

    pinned like a wall flower

    i often wondered
    how does it feel to be a wall flower
    then i became one

    and now i want nothing more
    than to go back to the way things were

    because that brought peace
    in estate

    now do not blame me
    for the way things are
    one day im standing strong and tall
    the next im looking up on my knees
    like i was never standing at all

    i am ignored
    and not listened to
    used but not seen

    a decoration on the wall
    to everyday say the most
    and its such a place to be

    im and run through
    by the fingers of all those
    who dont know i have thorns
    although they often
    never even scrape a finger

    after being defiled
    by hand or by voice
    i am left alone to believe the worst
    that i brought it on myself

    while i watch everyone stroll off
    thinking i dont understand what`s happened
    or eve what to do next

    but i do
    i think of it everyday
    im going to blossom
    Frederick J.B. Moore II

  • Rookie - 429 Points ... Dog God 8hate (11/21/2014 12:32:00 PM) Post reply | Read 5 replies

    .
    .

    OkCupid: Response to ...
    no Response

    You're into ...
    Cognitive Science?

    Dear soul:
    they who pursue the infinitude
    therein, come to realize
    that fetching vibe
    piquant posts can spin

    i'm a man posing woman,
    but for a cause
    (seemingly) too wiggy
    to tell, yet ... honest.

    it's one of irony's
    opposing ways to fool
    it's for FUN, and ...
    salubrious

    Surely you've peeked beyond
    the veil o' assumption ...
    those impeded borders o'
    minion land? And ...
    into the endless beyond?

    Your 5 foot four frame ...
    it fits an expedient composite
    if you know how to
    measure

    ._.

    Replies for this message:
    • Rookie - 429 Points The Pundit (11/22/2014 10:29:00 PM) Post reply

      This guy likes to fool around with words, and he makes you think. That's what a real poet does. He doesn't talk about colorless leaves. If he talks about leaves he shows you, he doesn't tell you.

    • Rookie - 429 Points Professor Plum (11/22/2014 10:15:00 PM) Post reply

      This is terrific Dog. 'Fake Plum' is a doofus. You play with words like a champ. Write some more! We miss you!

    • Rookie - 429 Points Professor Plum (11/22/2014 4:26:00 PM) Post reply

      Retarded writing by a retarded mind! Oh sorry, it is " uniquely" retarded.

    • Rookie - 429 Points Poetry Hound (11/21/2014 1:27:00 PM) Post reply

      My lady friend was in the market and ch ... more

    • Rookie - 429 Points The Pundit (11/21/2014 12:43:00 PM) Post reply

      Most of them on here are jerk-jobs. You ... more

  • Freshman - 1,583 Points Mike Acker (11/20/2014 3:44:00 PM) Post reply | Read 3 replies

    Time Of Death

    The dead and dying are everywhere.
    If I didn't know better, I would have thought
    a massacre had taken place. There is
    neither blood nor gore, but death prevails, nevertheless.

    The carcasses are scattered wherever
    one looks. Higher above are the sickly,
    looking down at their brethren, clear about
    their own fate. The color of life has left them.

    Soon, they too, will fall to their death, leaving
    only skeletal remains behind.

    Mike Acker

    Replies for this message:
    • Freshman - 1,583 Points Mike Acker (11/21/2014 6:07:00 PM) Post reply

      It is about fall and fallen leaves, morons!

    • Freshman - 1,583 Points Poetry Hound (11/21/2014 1:09:00 PM) Post reply | Read 1 reply

      She barely had a pulse. Thrown clear and only a few eyedroppers of blood. We put an old sleeping bag across her As if it would help As if temperature had the ref's whistle. When the the paramed ... more

    • Freshman - 1,583 Points The Pundit (11/21/2014 12:52:00 PM) Post reply

      'The dead and dying are everywhere'....Jesus, you couldn't come up with a more poetic line than that?You write for the Washington Post?This is poetry, not a godd*mn newspaper article. Show us the dead ... more

  • Rookie - 510 Points Havilah Dammette (11/19/2014 3:58:00 PM) Post reply

    Hi, yes. Someone get asians off new list poems?Hogging all space with paw prints. No words.
    My mouth mad at chow mein.

  • Freshman - 1,040 Points Gulsher John (11/19/2014 1:20:00 AM) Post reply | Read 1 reply

    in the absence of great minds
    only trolls sing around
    , , , , , , , , , ,
    hay guys, break the break now

    Replies for this message:
    • Freshman - 1,040 Points The Pundit (11/21/2014 1:04:00 PM) Post reply

      Write me a poem Gulsher, and shut up. Trolls are all we have left here. No one likes poetry including me. Get busy writing a good poem. No one else can.

  • Gold Star - 15,007 Points Mohammad Skati (11/17/2014 2:33:00 PM) Post reply

    Since our birth until our death / We write our life's pages / We write our good deeds and our bad deeds / When we pass away anytime / Then we will take this book with us / Either we pass our test or we fail /.

  • Freshman - 544 Points Adam M. Snow (11/16/2014 9:08:00 PM) Post reply | Read 3 replies

    The Day the Jester Died
    Written by Adam M. Snow

    Twenty one times three, a journey of laughter;
    the fool borne clown was he.
    Entertaining his majesty - soon after
    realize the laughter would soon die with him.
    Soon to vanish, he of many voices.
    All his jest would soon to end,
    all to end by his choices;
    a feeling without a friend.
    This Jester who proudly gave us laughter,
    was dying deep within.
    Covering his pain with the joy of laughter.
    If it were enough, it would have been,
    but it wasn't enough for him.
    So this Jester left to wonder,
    'Was he truly loved enough?'
    Yet he could not see past yonder,
    the treasures that loved enough.
    He gave his all but lost his soul to grieve,
    and grieve himself upon a tree.
    Entangled rope among the sticks and leaves,
    a last resort, felt for a Jester such as he.
    So now this Jester once a clown,
    lays to rest within his chamber.
    Retiring with him his Jester's crown,
    leaving with us a memory to remember.
    This Jester left without a bow,
    still a mystery to us all.
    The thought that struck him and how
    he felt the need to fall.
    A broken heart, was that his pain?
    Thus this day that laughter died.
    A reason for sorrow to reign,
    O for his majesty, who cried.
    O his majesty's courts,
    silence fills the hall.
    The king is left to mourn,
    the Jester who felt the need to fall.
    Laughter died with him,
    the fool borne clown.
    A joyous time spent with him,
    now he passes on his Jester's crown.

    Replies for this message:
    • Freshman - 544 Points The Pundit (11/21/2014 1:09:00 PM) Post reply

      You're giving all you got, Kid. If I could slap you on the back, I would. Kind of like chocolate syrup, but better than no syrup at all. Try some powdered sugar next time.

    • Freshman - 544 Points ... Dog God 8hate (11/21/2014 9:49:00 AM) Post reply

      . . . A lovely tribute to a lovely man ... true: " a fool borne clown" albeit ... merely what's ... contrived image the master fool conferred ... (that) hidden entity, he li ... more

    • Freshman - 544 Points Pranab K Chakraborty (11/17/2014 1:09:00 AM) Post reply | Read 1 reply

      Nice write. The words, its lucidity and expressional simplicity draws the line perfect to touch a man who offers our heart to release some burdens. Valuable tribute. Thank you.

  • Rookie - 332 Points Zoila T. Flores (11/15/2014 5:50:00 PM) Post reply | Read 1 reply

    Oh Dear,
    ...Conscience, don't abandon me,
    Through my journey, on this day,
    Keep supporting, as you're always,
    On the wisdom, of my say...

    Replies for this message:
    • Rookie - 332 Points Pranab K Chakraborty (11/17/2014 10:55:00 PM) Post reply

      Yes, Conscience. But to give it the steer, a strong belief, I mean philosophical stand, is quiet necessary. Otherwise instinct could misguide in disguise of conscience. Thanks for the cry.

  • Gold Star - 15,007 Points Mohammad Skati (11/15/2014 4:45:00 PM) Post reply

    I'm burning like a candle everyday / I'm looking for my hope somewhere / Me and myself are two in one / Simply because we can not be one in two / There are many horizons around me / My whole life is confused / I'm a real co-partner in torturing myself / And I'm still looking for myself / But I don't find myself / I'm still missing or I'm drowned /.................. This poem is called - Myself -.

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