forum POEMS post 'em here my friends!

Started February 07, 2019 by @ember-chan-will-never-forget-you

tune

Kk! It’s coolio! I was just wondering.

hey guys what should I make a poem about? and should it be long? a limerick? iambic pentameter?

what’re you feeling?

tired

Oof.

maybe hungry

What am I doing

Hunger
I stare off in the distance
Rumble
I need food
Growl
Maybe some chicken nuggets
No grease
Potato chips will do

beautiful

I smell a tired themed limerick coming!

I woke to the sound of alarms
I wanted to do the clock harm
I swung my arm out
and without a doubt
all I did was hurt my arm

limericks are like the only thing I can do, so any topic ideas?

Slow clap

thank you! bows

intense loud fast clap while sweating to keep clapping

probably too much bowing

the world becomes flat because of the extensive intense clapping and bowing.

flat earthers rejoice

silk scarf
.
you wake up sweating
and the girl is spinning poison in your ear.
and from her lips, her voice is
a pensive, golden shade
of muted amaranth,
and it's dripping into your eyes, sharp
like black forest honey,
something rich and charming and persuasive
like a kiss. or a hand
tracing your jaw, slipping down
the length of your neck,
silk scarf, coaxing your mouth open
wide
wide
wide.
you're still not sure she'd understand.

(this one's about my synesthesic experience of 'girls your age'-transviolet)

Alrighty so this is actually a song (it sounds really creepy when I sing it) but I’m putting it here anyway

The boy named Troy
The dark in me
A wonderful boy
I miss him dearly

At nights I’d lay awake
Thinking of risks that we could take
Telling each other what we’d be
If we could be free

A boy named Troy
The light in me
He was a beautiful soul
I miss him dearly

I’d sit and think of him
How he and I were such good friends
How we would lean on each other
And watch our lives get darker

Together

Bravo!
Here's one I'm not really sure how it goes or if it's finished:

he's in my head
he sings, he sings,
he wants me dead
and pulls the strings

a voice I hear
that retched voice
one I hold dear
I do rejoice

I hate him with
all of my might
he keeps me up
'til past midnight

I might be crazy
he likes it that way
the voice in my head
he's here to stay

Clap clap clap!

thanks! I was laughing at myself laughing earlier, so I wrote a poem about how insane I am

I see angels but no halos
Kind hearts, blind
Smiles with Ill Intent
Dark hearts feinting innocence
I see them smile their smile
All the while trampling dreams
All the while, sickening schemes
I see devils with pretty lies
Beneath their lofty disguise
I see angels but no halos
Demons ruffling humankind

ùwú

I met a man from Ireland,
he farmed the famous root.
I told him I'm from Idaho,
where potatoes are our fruit.

I'm really not from Idaho,
but it fit my rhyme.
I just want some French fry food,
while I still have time.

a carrot's not a worthy snack,
beans will give you gas,
but if it isn't potato,
then I'll have to pass.

potato is a sacred food,
with many tasty use.
from mashed to fried to baked to stewed,
there's too many to choose.

looking back I'm confident
I have done no wrong.
potato is the grandest plant,
and my rhymes are strong.

I call it: "Potato" and it was off the top of my head.

As a potato, I greatly approve of this. Please don't eat me

I'm thinking about it… where does potato live so I can think more about it

I don’t like potatoes in any form. Even fries. I’m sorry. Don’t hurt me.

they say there's no need to feel so down
they say if I stand up I'll no longer frown
they say I might be sad 'cause this isn't my town
but mostly they say that it's fun to stay
at the YMCA

I met a man from Ireland,
he farmed the famous root.
I told him I'm from Idaho,
where potatoes are our fruit.

I'm really not from Idaho,
but it fit my rhyme.
I just want some French fry food,
while I still have time.

a carrot's not a worthy snack,
beans will give you gas,
but if it isn't potato,
then I'll have to pass.

potato is a sacred food,
with many tasty use.
from mashed to fried to baked to stewed,
there's too many to choose.

looking back I'm confident
I have done no wrong.
potato is the grandest plant,
and my rhymes are strong.

Read this out loud like your at a funeral. I dare you. Fake crying and everything!