forum POEMS post 'em here my friends!

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

tune

@francis

Beeeeautiful as always fam! I get a lot of intense Midwestern vibes from the last three verses, but I could be biased since that's my all-time favorite vibe xD I don't know if I get any stories from them per se, but I do get some strong and surreal mental imagery, which is to me a sign of a good poem lol. Keep it up!

!!!thank you ! i asked a friend if they picked out anything and they said for each stanza: persecuted christian in ancient rome, drag show, hunting and bringing home something beastly, someone loved, and alien abduction. thank u again !!!

@francis

Beeeeautiful as always fam! I get a lot of intense Midwestern vibes from the last three verses, but I could be biased since that's my all-time favorite vibe xD I don't know if I get any stories from them per se, but I do get some strong and surreal mental imagery, which is to me a sign of a good poem lol. Keep it up!

!!!thank you ! i asked a friend if they picked out anything and they said for each stanza: persecuted christian in ancient rome, drag show, hunting and bringing home something beastly, someone loved, and alien abduction. thank u again !!!

Oooh those are good ones! And no prob! xD

@jacen-is-really-fackin-gay

I adore that poem :O (the perks of being a wallflower!) it’s actually called A Person/ A Paper/ A Promise and it was written by Dr. Earl Reum for one of his students :)))

@jacen-is-really-fackin-gay

I adore that poem :O (the perks of being a wallflower!) it’s actually called A Person/ A Paper/ A Promise and it was written by Dr. Earl Reum for one of his students :)))

Good to know.

Here's a short and sweet poem i wrote that's now one of my favourites. Let me know what you think!

"Freckles,"

Why would I need to look up at the night sky,

When I have entire universes -

Stars, Constellations, Galaxies,

-traced between the freckles

That dance across my skin.

I just wrote this this morning soo…

-A Reflection-

When I look into the mirror,
a stranger do I see.
Someone else's reflection,
staring back at me.

With hazel eyes,
and tiny ears,
a perfect smile,
that shows no fear.

She wears a crown of pride,
upon her perfect hair,
Into her soul I look.
Into her eyes I stare.

There I see,
the true, real me.

Hidden behind her gentle gaze,
hidden behind her perfect face.

There I stand,
small and weak.

Behind her eyes,
There is me.

• Heartbreak
  -Jacen Wardwell

My heart,
Is shattered.
My soul,
Is dead.
My reason,
Has left me.
I am nothing.
Hopeless,
Helpless.
Dead.

All alone,
I stand.
All alone,
I fall.
That is all I am.
Alone,
Lost,
Gone.

My love,
has left me,
All alone.
The promise,
of love.
Broken.
Gone.

That's amazing! You are very talented!

one of my few poems that have rhyming words… wow.

The Day Death Knocked on my Door
_{(Warnings for Suicide and Sex)}

OH MY GOD ALTRINCE

GOD THERE ARE NO WORDS TO EXPRESS HOW MUCH I LOVE YOUR POEMS
JUST
AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

Thank you Izzy! I wrote that one when I broke down earlier so uh… sweats profusely …don’t expect too much next time. But thank you! :)

oh gosh QwQ
i hope you're feeling better now?

dw altrince all your poems are high-quality :3

I’m okay now! Thank you for asking!

Thank you ^-^

that's good to hear ^^ (and np !!)

this is the second year I’ve been using inktober as poetry prompts. 10/10 would recommend.

day 3 : vessel

From the lighthouse came a pinprick
And from the captain came a shout
That broke the death-quiet fog.
The captain steered ‘round the rough rock minefield,
As the house’s promise reeled us in.
The house was a home
and the home was a beacon
and the beacon was a path
and the path led home.
And I am a memory in the cabin of the crew
While the crew was hard at work,
And the crew was small and afraid.
And the crew told stories the rocks made,
and the house told stories the fog made,
and the light told stories the dark made,
And the stories made it home.

OMG THIS IS SUCH A GOOD IDEA THANK YOU <3 (Also that was an absolutely lovely poem!)

It's for creative writing. I was thinking to split this poem into 3. It was supposed to have a section on winter.

The Four Seasons

The heart of nature is the seasons
For we give them names
And names instill purpose

The four seasons,
like everything in this world,
have personality

Spring is her father’s child
The firstborn of Winter and Summer
She is the elder sister
who is distant and cold when you meet her
but as you get to know her
she warms
In her, lies all the coldness of her father
and all the warmth of her mother

She summons the power of this world
and brings life to nature
She takes care of us:
the young who rely on her
for she, like her mother,
is full of beauty as well as warmth

Summer,
The warmest of the four,
brings forth light and prosperity
She is as gentle as her daughter
but as violent as her husband

She brings raging heat and tidal waves
Death and destruction
but we must not fault her for it
For we:
the Human race,
with our industry
have invoked her rage

We tell ourselves that it is her who ravages us
but we have done this to ourselves
Her temper will not lessen
if we stand idling by
and watch her fury destroy the planet
for which we call home

Fall
The youngest and shortest of the four,
The gentle brother,
Warm, like his mother
Cold, like his father

He creeps up on us with bouts of cold
and embraces us with warmth
Still not as deadly as his parents
He signals the time of hibernation
for much of nature

With his changing colors,
They remind us of his mother
who has only just passed

The warm hues of Summer melt
into the crisp, dark hues of Winter
He brings forth
the coldest, most brutal,
of the four with his passing

here is my melodramatic rant about the other night. still very upset about it, but the irony is great…aha.

——–tw for underage drinking.

On Getting Drunk Because I Was Denied Admission to The Rocky Horror Picture Show

I stood, homosexual,
In a line of townsfolk itching for a tranny fix.
understandably excited; a tranny myself,
I proudly wore Tim Curry’s seafoam smock,
the hair, the triangle, the tights, the pearls,
the academic excellence, the deranged repression,
even the sharp tongue— but no lingerie.
The everything expected, the everything
Good Enough and Frank-N-Furter, I wore.

I stood, homosexual, on the edge of irony,
pent-up, tickets at hand and ready for action;
A tranny, and a Frank, myself,
turned down before the clean townsfolk.
“Alcohol,” they said, “is served here,”
And that just wouldn’t do, I suppose.
“I’m terribly sorry.”

I drank, transvestite,
before the transvestite onscreen,
A tranny, a Frank, and a promising alkie myself,
in the lightless pond, with berry scented algae
whipped into hot, dense clouds. A horizontal
mouth watering in a horizontal beer
with naught to say and none to say to.

I drank, transvestite, with ambiguous spite,
In the tub, in hysterics,
A tranny, a Frank, a promising alkie, and all by myself,
croaking with the filthy ballads,
watching the vulgar red mouth.
Tearful, dark; an egg
poached in a sweet daydream of new skin,
a new body, new loves, newsworthy ridicule,
And ultimate pain-pleasure.

enough is enough
——tw for self harm

it’s not so different from then
same mistakes do happen
and same scenes seem to play on repeat all day

things you’ve given to me
love and care and worries
all build up in my mind in my sleep

my heart
is breaking
no more spaces fill in with more scars

my mind
is aching
i’ve won the fight but i’ve lost the war…
…with myself

it’s enough
all this pain is for nothing
i’ve lost it all
i can’t go on anymore
my world has broken down
to shambles and i’m still around
the shores
thinking i should step down

it’s enough
i’m so tired it’s breaking
this fragile soul endured
much pain and sin
my world has fallen down
to ruins i am drowning now
but i…
…i am still here, breathing fine.

it’s been long since that day
when i went my own way
i thought that i would find myself some day

many months and years passed
friends i knew have lost track
sometimes i think i’m walking alone

this room
i sleep in
house my nightmares and all my failures

this life
i live in
is only worth when i achieve gold…

it’s enough
i can’t fight here anymore
i’ve lost too much
my soul’s tired and sore
i’ve lost too many tears
i’ve wasted years inside my fears
to lose…
…instead of to let go

it’s enough
i’ve been fighting for too long
i know it’s better off
if i’m just gone
to slowly disappear
to leave without a single tear
is a dream…
…that i live with everyday

……

“it’s enough.”
i remind myself each day
the scars i’ve gained
means i’m stronger every day
it hurts to be alive
but at least i’m living my own life
my way…
…i guess that is okay.

“i’m enough.”
said the mirror i talk to
i smile through the tears
“i’m proud of you.”
though no one says the same
i’ll tell myself that every day
i’ll live…
… “i’m enough so that’s enough.”

altrince
i got so excited when i saw it was you who posted
one THAT WAS SUPER GOOD AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAa
two are you okay QwQ

One, thank you for your enthusiasm to read it, as always.
Two, yes I am :D

One, thank you for your enthusiasm to read it, as always.
Two, yes I am :D

ah good to hear :3

accusing

at the high of night
the church bells drowning out speech
blood is spilled, none see

there were five of them
and yet with each questioning
we got no further

by morning one fled
leaving no trace for tracking
then there were just four

but no, there were three
the body was a charred mass
we could not see clues

the killer was one
one who was after the rest
they all knew something

before one more left
we got to work, questioning
and here came the first

the first was a servant
perhaps he had a reason
did he have a grudge

shopkeeper was next
just outside the scene of death
he had all the tools

then there was her love
the same age as her, but why
if he loved her, why

all of them were watched
nothing was strange, however
we were stumped at it

a young adult slain
in the holiest of places
who was her killer

a new day arrived
but there were only two left
the lover was gone

tracked to her body
there he was, his spirit gone
so he had fallen

there were only two
the lovers were both dead, why
who killed both of them

it did not occur
that it was not a murder
but a promise held

lovers who needed
to be together through death
we never saw that

instead something else
the servant was turned to, accused
thrown into prison

executed, unheard
but with that, the case was gone
someone was to blame

and of course, the blame
went to the person who could
do nothing on it

it was known that a
servant, angry, jealous, uncaring
had slain the lovers

but in truth, the truth
was far different from that
it will never reach the light.

the crow flies

Mae'r frân yn hedfan
ar draws yr awyr

the crow flies
across the sky

yn fy llygaid
gofynnaf i'r ysbïwyr

in my eyes
i ask the spies

a welsoch chi'r frân honno
hedfan, diofal, yn gwisgo dim byd ond ei enaid

did you see that crow
flying, careless, wearing nothing but his soul

dywed yr ysbïwyr wrthyf
dim byd, dim byd o gwbl

the spies tell me
nothing, nothing at all

cadwch eich pen yn isel
peidiwch â bod yn araf

keep your head low
don’t be slow

mae gwaed o'n cwmpas
nid yw'n ffwdan

blood is all around us
it’s not a fuss

cadwch eich pen yn isel
nhawel

keep your head low
still

Mae'r frân yn hedfan
ar draws yr awyr

the crows fly
across the sky

yr ysbïwyr yn dawel
ac yna y gwledd brain.

the spies are silent
and the crows feast.

i wrote another voidy themed thing
actually kind of like it and now have an urge to share it with people???

though it had no eyes
it stared back at me
the never-ending
bottomless
pit
of the void.

i talked to it,
asked it how it was
and though i never got a response
it was nice to have some company

it didn’t mind me being there,
i don’t think
i didn’t mind being there either

one day, i told it,
“i long to join your kind.”

i don’t know why
i expected
a response.
it had no mouth,
no ears, to hear with,
no eyes, to see that i was there.
could it even feel me there?

and when i was greeted with silence
i silently got up
and left
the void.

for a long time,
i didn’t visit it.
“if it wants me back, it’ll call me back,”
i told myself.

finally,
i had to face the truth.
it was not alive.
it had no eyes to see me standing there,
no ears to hear me sit down,
no nose to smell the lunch i made for the both of us,
and no sense of touch to feel my fingers gently brushing against its opening.

and then,
i knew.
i could not enter.
living objects were forbidden
in the void.
and i
was living.

-Needs
-Jacen Wardwell

You say you need me,
but I need to breath.

You say you want me,
But I cannot see.

I am drowning
lost
unable to be.

You say you need me,
but what do I need?
To stay with you?
To make myself suffer?

You may not see it,
but you I cannot be with.

I need to breath,
to be alone.
I need to see,
to finally go home.

Please
My love,
let me be.
I just wish that I
could finally be free.

-Nature
-Jacen Wardwell

Time
It passes.
Unstopped.
Unyielding.

Wind
It rushes.
Unantaible.
Unreliable.

Earth
It rests.
Forever still.
Forever silent.

Water
It surges.
Unpredictable
Underestimated.

Fire
It burns.
Forever growing.
Forever eating.

Nature
It's wild.
It's free.
It is in control.

_{(Firstly, yes, to a lot of you, I haven't been replying to this nor roleplays. The main reason for that is that I've just been getting a lot of writer's block and having mental instability. For better or worse reasons, this may be the last poem I leave with for until I make a good/full recovery. Anyways, enough about me. Here's a 'conversation poem' that's been in the works for some time.)}

Report Number 77

"Officer number 77, report to us what you have found on planet H-Trae."

"……"

"Officer number 77?"

"Huh? Ah! Sorry sir. Uhm… as for my years worth of travel to planet H-Trae, I have found many things. I have found organisms living there. They call themselves as 'humans' as although they are outnumbered by what they classify as 'insects', they claim to be the owner of the planet."

"Continue."

"I have been observing, from both afar and up close and personal with a couple of human subjects. They could not pronounce my name so they refer to me as 'friend', which I find… intriguing. Humans are a spectacular species. There are so many of them and they come in all colors, shapes, forms, and sizes! But… I don't like the fact that I learnt from my dark 'friends' that sometimes they are regarded as inferior to 'friends' with lighter skins. I don't think so though. 'Friends' are 'friends'."

"What else have you found?"

"Well… a lot, sir. Humans don't reproduce indefinitely like we do and they haven't learnt of cloning yet so because of this, they still use sexual reproduction. However, humans are more… passionate. Unlike other species we've learnt about and others I have found on H-Trae, humans choose their partners very carefully. I have seen humans walking with each other and saying words that cause shivers to go down my spine. They call it as 'flirting' and 'dating' and I even saw one human bring a bundle of dead red flowers as a gift for another and it's crazy! They refer to this emotion as 'love'. Love is… as far as I've studied, a crazy phenomenon. Sometimes it happens in the blink of an eye, sometimes it takes years to form, and sometimes it just doesn't happen. Love comes in really different shapes. Whereas other species may 'love' to reproduce, that being a male and a female getting together, most humans choose to love who they love, no matter the possibility of creating a new human. It is a beautiful thing, personally, though not every place accepts this occurrence. Love, as I've learnt, has no real border. It is a shared, content, and mutual feeling between two humans, no matter their race, body shape, gender, age, or anything else. It's… absurd, but it's amazing."

"Hm… a nice idea. Now, tell me about the last word you've written in your short report."

"…'fragile'. Humans are fragile. Very… fragile. A lot of us have mistaken humans as being dangerous and violent when in reality, that's only the loud minority. The silent majority of humans are one of the nicest species we've ever known. Humans hold each other's hands gently when one is scared or worried, humans give each other shiny rocks to present their eternal love for one another, a-and humans feel! Humans feel just like we do and I hate the spicy food I had there because of it…"

"…officer 77, you look sad."

"It's because I am… along the way back, I lost a 'friend'. He was a writer, a teacher, and a young man just trying to live his way. He often depicted himself in the stories he write for other humans to read, hoping that some day someone will understand him. I quote from him, 'I'm tired. I'm tired of always trying to be better and competing with standards I know I can't compete and yet every day, every night, I'm wide awake at four in the morning, trying to figure out what's for breakfast tomorrow even though I haven't had a meal today! I'm constantly thinking about tomorrow and yesterday… today is never important. It never was'… I couldn't understand every word he said, but I can see the brokenness in his eyes. They shine the way those condensed carbon gems officer number 76 brought back last week. I learnt that they mean that that human is broken. And I'm not a fixer… I wasn't able to fix him. Just days ago I visited him one last time to say goodbye. I found him hanging on the ceiling fan. He had no pulse. He had no life left in him. In the end, I hope he had no regrets… I found the stories he wrote and I brought them all with me! They aren't perfect but- he tried his best. He wrote so much. In such a short life he wrote stories that even I couldn't even think of writing! He's… gone. But he forever lives on in these stories he wrote…"

"…officer 77, thank you for your time. You may take your leave."

"Thank you sir."

"But remember, it is not wrong to pay tribute to those who have passed. I'm sure your 'friend' would appreciate it."

End of recording.

_{(Edit : No, this is not goodbye. I refuse to let my damn every decreasing sanity be the death of me. Yes, I will still write, but I will write with little to no interactions. I will bleed stories from between my scars and spread them across this… blank canvas and have myself remember that yeah… I know there are people out there who don't know me but care for me. I'm still here because of you. You know who you are. From the bottom of my broken and shattered heart that you managed to tape together and get it beating again… thank you.)}

honestly im not a poet, I hardly ever write poems compared to other types of writing, but here's the most recent poem I came up with while laying in bed last night.

my loyalty
is like a silver
string,
attached to my neck,
like a leash.

I let you pull me around,
by the leash labeled
loyalty.

Until you decide
to
let
go.

And leave me
all
alone.