Poetry Thread

Re: Poem I wrote.-Aldo Moreno

Meh. It means well, but in some parts the poem's immature.

Its my feelings dude. My feelings kan go anyway so yeah.

I'm really glad to see that you are trying your best to make a change. You will be happier in the long run. :) I've had to learn that the hard way, trust me.

I feel like my chest is free. I am glad I let it out. Got to do it more often. It will mean a lot if she reads this tho.

I will try very hard.
 
Re: Poem I wrote.-Aldo Moreno

I see the "immature" aspect of your poem as a beautiful reflection of what infatuation is like for a younger person. I was sixteen once. :) I do agree that the usage of the word "gay" in a negative connotation was uncalled for, but I know your intention was to use it to maintain your rhymes.
 
Re: Poem I wrote.-Aldo Moreno

I see the "immature" aspect of your poem as a beautiful reflection of what infatuation is like for a younger person. I was sixteen once. :) I do agree that the usage of the word "gay" in a negative connotation was uncalled for, but I know your intention was to use it to maintain your rhymes.

i wanna try

we are the city hidden deep beneath the surface
we are the city all alone.
dwelling here in this dark abismal prison, we are one.
with light permeating through the ceiling, we have little sight.
we are the city sleeping silently, but highly advanced for one who is in such a deep sleep.
with toil for most of life and the relaxation twice as much work.
this castle down below can be seen by noone except those involved in its creation.
too long we have waited to see natural beauty and not grey earth.
maybe we could see all the world has to offer.
thats a silly thought, even for us who are incapable of thinking.
but incapability gives us strength and that will be our substitute for thought.
so then maybe we could take a look.
we are so sorry, we mustn't get ahead of ourselves like that.
however the light calls out to us.
if only we could reach it's warmth.
we believe we can for we are the castle builders and what builders we are.
working tediously on teir after teir to reach the sun and all we have is each other and the constant muttering to ourselves, "UP WE GO"

you'll understand if you listen to la dispute. heavily influenced by 7
 
Re: Poem I wrote.-Aldo Moreno

Now I need to write one. I've seriously slacked on my poetry writing since high school. I used to love it. Hmmm... what to write about..?
 
Re: Poem I wrote.-Aldo Moreno

Now I need to write one. I've seriously slacked on my poetry writing since high school. I used to love it. Hmmm... what to write about..?

mine was one i wrote for varsity performance troupe in 11th grade
what did you think?
 
Re: Poem I wrote.-Aldo Moreno

I was in a creative writing course my senior year of high school I wrote some really deep stuff back then. I was so proud of this one poem I wrote, comparing a controlling relationship to a puppeteer and a marionette. It was the greatest thing I've ever written; doubt I'll ever top it. I kept a copy of it on my flash drive so I'd always have it.
 
Re: Poem I wrote.-Aldo Moreno

Why call it immature and childish? It's HIS feelings, so what. Overall, I thought it was well-thought out and had a lot of feeling in it.... and that's saying a lot. I'm more in to of a short to the point kind of poems. Well, I'll share with you one of my old "works"

Manthatneverwas.png


Keep your head up, bro.
 
Re: Poem I wrote.-Aldo Moreno

I was in a creative writing course my senior year of high school I wrote some really deep stuff back then. I was so proud of this one poem I wrote, comparing a controlling relationship to a puppeteer and a marionette. It was the greatest thing I've ever written; doubt I'll ever top it. I kept a copy of it on my flash drive so I'd always have it.

it sounds pretty good. post it cause now i wanna read it. still havent gotten anyones opinion
 
Re: Poem I wrote.-Aldo Moreno

Balls

I like them in my face
I like them at a fast pace
I like them blue
Not scary, boo​


/poem
 
Re: Poem I wrote.-Aldo Moreno

Very poignant., Jade.

Here's mine. It's funny looking back at it, how immature and angry I was back then. I really needed to grow up. A lot. I only saw the world from one viewpoint in those days. I'm thankful now that I re-read this that I was able to bury my anger and bitterness. I wasn't happy then. Well, here goes. Please go easy on me.

Marionette

She never really loved him
What is love to someone with a mind
Bound by strings upon strings of childlike perversion?
To her, he was just a gentle soul who would not stray
Her marionette

She wraps her wretched lunacy across his chest
Much more a snare than a lover’s caress
Demonically sways his strings across the stage
As a primitive dance unfolds
Coward, she hides behind the crimson curtain
Satan, sneering, cranks a music box

To others, she, the puppet master
Presents herself as serene, demure
In essence, the epitome of human perfection
He, the lonely puppet, plasters a smile on his painted face
Sketched-on teardrops chipped here and there
Colossal scars meander downward like illimitable tears
Bloodshot eyes cast me a look of utter despair
A solitary breath pours from his inflexible lungs
Perhaps his last

The rest of the audience drools at the show
Rolling their tongues about
As if the curtain were constructed of gory gauze, I wonder
Am I the only one who sees through this facade?
Each time the puppeteer forces her malevolent lips onto those of her poor marionette
I asphyxiate and drown in blood and lightning
The plasma suffocates and renders me weak
Glass, ice, and gravel rise…
…fall
In my throat
Sever my stomach and muffle my cries

I hate her, I despise her
Because he's fooled into thinking he loves her
I want to tell him, but I cannot
Because she yanks him by those God-awful strings
Ever so grotesquely
And pulls him away
She fears me, I sense it

Paintbrush in a gnarled hand
She etches and scrawls new features on her toy
To suit her own selfish desires
And make him more like her and less like me
She paints over his blue eyes with a cloudy, teary gray
So sad, so sad indeed

I, with every fragment of adoration in my heart
Am dying to erase and redraw the handsome lines he once had
I plead with God for some ethereal pair of golden scissors
To cut his strings and set him free
Because I love him with such immense passion
That I cannot bear to let him be her marionette anymore
Please…
Let us ascend onto a cloud
And float away from this staged humanity
To kiss his wooden lips
Until they are
Plump
Rosy
Human Again
To leave and never return
To journey to a place where he and I will be the only real, and loving two
 
Re: Poem I wrote.-Aldo Moreno

I thought it had a lot of feeling in it myself =)
 
Re: Poem I wrote.-Aldo Moreno

You should work on your flow, Aldo. Use more metaphor and maybe less cadence. If you like doing it, keep at it. I don't think the gay part matters since poetry is about expression, and if that's how you speak, you shouldn't have to change it.

I like yours a lot, Alisa.

I also like Jades. Reminds me of Ricochet.

I suck at poetry, but here's some prose:

She told me we couldn't afford beer anymore and I'd have to quit.
Then I caught her spending $65.00 on make-up, $150.00 for a cut and color, $30.00 for a manicure, $40.00 for a pedicure, $50.00 on vitamins, $300.00 on clothes and $600.00 for a gym membership.
I asked how come I had to give up stuff and not her.
She said she needed it to look pretty for me.
I told her that's what the beer was for.
I don't think she's coming back.
 
Re: Poem I wrote.-Aldo Moreno

Very poignant., Jade.

Here's mine. It's funny looking back at it, how immature and angry I was back then. I really needed to grow up. A lot. I only saw the world from one viewpoint in those days. I'm thankful now that I re-read this that I was able to bury my anger and bitterness. I wasn't happy then. Well, here goes. Please go easy on me.

Marionette

She never really loved him
What is love to someone with a mind
Bound by strings upon strings of childlike perversion?
To her, he was just a gentle soul who would not stray
Her marionette

She wraps her wretched lunacy across his chest
Much more a snare than a lover’s caress
Demonically sways his strings across the stage
As a primitive dance unfolds
Coward, she hides behind the crimson curtain
Satan, sneering, cranks a music box

To others, she, the puppet master
Presents herself as serene, demure
In essence, the epitome of human perfection
He, the lonely puppet, plasters a smile on his painted face
Sketched-on teardrops chipped here and there
Colossal scars meander downward like illimitable tears
Bloodshot eyes cast me a look of utter despair
A solitary breath pours from his inflexible lungs
Perhaps his last

The rest of the audience drools at the show
Rolling their tongues about
As if the curtain were constructed of gory gauze, I wonder
Am I the only one who sees through this facade?
Each time the puppeteer forces her malevolent lips onto those of her poor marionette
I asphyxiate and drown in blood and lightning
The plasma suffocates and renders me weak
Glass, ice, and gravel rise…
…fall
In my throat
Sever my stomach and muffle my cries

I hate her, I despise her
Because he's fooled into thinking he loves her
I want to tell him, but I cannot
Because she yanks him by those God-awful strings
Ever so grotesquely
And pulls him away
She fears me, I sense it

Paintbrush in a gnarled hand
She etches and scrawls new features on her toy
To suit her own selfish desires
And make him more like her and less like me
She paints over his blue eyes with a cloudy, teary gray
So sad, so sad indeed

I, with every fragment of adoration in my heart
Am dying to erase and redraw the handsome lines he once had
I plead with God for some ethereal pair of golden scissors
To cut his strings and set him free
Because I love him with such immense passion
That I cannot bear to let him be her marionette anymore
Please…
Let us ascend onto a cloud
And float away from this staged humanity
To kiss his wooden lips
Until they are
Plump
Rosy
Human Again
To leave and never return
To journey to a place where he and I will be the only real, and loving two

wow.
my ex right there. i'm like speechless
also havent got anything on mine. am i being ignored?
 
Re: Poem I wrote.-Aldo Moreno

Loving everyones poems!

You should work on your flow, Aldo. Use more metaphor and maybe less cadence. If you like doing it, keep at it. I don't think the gay part matters since poetry is about expression, and if that's how you speak, you shouldn't have to change it.

I am not gonna lie but I don't really know shit about grammer. I always get metaphors and smiles konfused. I plan to learn all this before kollege. I do know some words if I see them. Sometimes I forget them. Its one of my goals to be a author.

One day everyone in these forums will see a book written by me and see me run Track and Kross Kountry for TCU.
 
Re: Poem I wrote.-Aldo Moreno

No poet needs to know grammar to write well. If you want to be an author and write a book...that's probably a different story (no pun intended).

But this poem's got soul and I think that's what counts most.
 
No poet needs to know grammar to write well. If you want to be an author and write a book...that's probably a different story (no pun intended).

But this poem's got soul and I think that's what counts most.

There is so much wrong with this.

1. Poetry is written for an audience. If you're writing about your girlfriend, it's not poetry, but a journal entry.

2. Grammar is important for poetry, because poetry is about playing with words. If you can't understand how to use language, you can't write poetry. Not only that you need to understand sound. If you can't understand the difference between a rock and a stone, you will not get anywhere with poetry.

Something old of mine I dug up:

Bombs That Dropped

streets of jutting rock
blackened sidewalks
cracked glass-
grit that's more than sand or salt

air with penny stained pallet
seared spring sofas
charcoal trees sway-
testament to the city of embers

vultures churn black butter that
drips from torn tires
growing from great
motor engine machines

acidic clouds cry each night
while metallic structures rust
in their destructive agony
an aftermath of the-
 
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Re: Poem I wrote.-Aldo Moreno

There is so much wrong with this.

1. Poetry is written for an audience. If you're writing about your girlfriend, it's not poetry, but a journal entry.

2. Grammar is important for poetry, because poetry is about playing with words. If you can't understand how to use language, you can't write poetry. Not only that you need to understand sound. If you can't understand the difference between a rock and a stone, you will not get anywhere with poetry.

1. Art of any form should be done because you enjoy it because it's the very essence of expression. You don't write for an audience; you write (or paint or sing or sculpt) because you have something on your mind that you need to express. An audience is a perk, not the intent.

2. This is not true because a large portion of rap is comprised of and probably enhanced by improper grammar. Poetry has so many of focuses, grammar is hardly the point. Yeah, having a firm GRASP of it is important, but it's by no means a required tool.

And your rock/stone reference is about vocabulary, not grammar. Grammar is knowing the difference between "then" and "than" and when to use a particular form of a word.
 
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