DVDizzy Forum

I figured that since I like poetry, and some other people also might like poetry, I haven't checked, that there should be a thread about poetry and some of your favorites, or some that you made up. Well I made this for Social Studies, but I like it. So here it goes:

Leaf has fallen to the bitter
Into the cold, and musty winter
As new life begins to grow
A different life begins to glow

All through winter, the hustle and bustle
But this life contains brains and muscle
Upon the midnight hour has he
Been born into world by woman thee

Cry, and cry, his sound grew softer aloud
Around him be a large centered cloud
To bring him up to light and soar
With wings of gold and nothing more

To death be his answer, the call for he?
To glide through the despaired and drought sea?
And his life be in the light surrounded by wings
To carry him up above all things

With soar and air
His mother she care
His life no more
Dead body she bore

Upon her lap sat stillness, no laughter
His life has ended with not a chapter
Cry, and cry, her sound grew softer aloud
As she around her, another cloud

To bring her up to light and soar
With wings of gold and nothing more
To death be her answer, the call for she?
To glide through the despaired and drought sea?

Light surrounded mother and son
For her chapter as mother, never done
And up above, spirits arose
That grew together, like red rose

Soar through air, lighting the ground
For all things a grow, all around
And mother and son unite once more
They flew together with wings of gold
And nothing more

Leaves a grow, along the trees
The cold and ice, they got rid of these
Flowers bloom bright, the sea turn clear
Then returns the majestic deer

Flocks of birds return to the forest
With the great gospel angel chorus
Rain drops to the green spring grass
As bright as sun, as clear as glass

Mother and son had joined together
Two souls, one rose, that lasts forever
They bloomed, and grew, and prospered so
So the next day, that they will know

That life will have meaning once more
Though their bodies, the father bore
And he knew that not rain nor sea
Could tear apart the love for thee

And now they flew above the sky
To join together in the middle of nigh’
And all that they could ever become
Would all weave into one

To form a cloud, that took them above
That bind them with courage and love
To sail through the light and soar
With wings of gold and nothing more

I still think that I need to work on it. What do y'all think?

I guess no one liked it so, I guess I'll just close this thread.

I like it! It's very New Age-y, evocative, wistful, and way too well-written for stupid people like me to understand exactly what it's about. Unintelligibility is the mark of all good poetry.

I'm a bit of a writer myself, but I stick strictly to the prosaic stuff. Poetry is too high above me.

Miss Jo wrote:I like it! It's very New Age-y, evocative, wistful, and way too well-written for stupid people like me to understand exactly what it's about. Unintelligibility is the mark of all good poetry.

Thanks! I think. Are you calling me unintelligent?!?!?!?!? Well at least you are the only one who responded to this, so thanks again. If anyone wants to post their favorite poem or story or anything please post. I think that everyone is creative in their own way that's unique from everyone else.

TheSequelofDisney wrote:Are you calling me unintelligent?!?!?!?!?

No! I meant quite the contrary. Excuse me, sometimes I am not good at expressing myself, which is why I am not a poet.

However, I do have one sorry little poem I recently had to write for Careers class. The assignment was to write an acrostic poem of our names, describing ourselves. Mine is pretty uninspired and uninspiring, but it's the best I could do.

Just a simple girl who not
Only has a stellar personality,
Dazzlingly bright wit, and legendary intelligence, but who must be excused
If her good qualities are a little
Exaggerated in this poem

Here's an inspiring, thought-provoking poem for the ages (that doesn't rhyme):


People died for us to have a land where we could all be free
They didn't tell us how hard it would be
for us to see each other as equal
but all the same, they died for us to have freedom
But we refuse to let each other be free
Because we are too busy telling each other we are sinners
Too busy deciding who is weak and lazy and dirty
While we promote a tiny profile of one kind of person
who is qualified to be a hero, a role model, and head a family
We have the opportunity to spread love and make peace
But we can't see beyond our own selfish desire of exclusivity
to understand how important it is to show others true respect
Our version of peace is a bolted crypt
and all our love is conditional,
based upon standards of traditional behavior
and the appearence of how you live
and what your choices look like to others
We are afraid to be ourselves
But we blindly defend ignorance and support hatred
as long as it has a poster-person on it
saying they are looking out for your real interests
When was it decided that we are all the same?
Who said it was okay for anyone else to make up our minds for us?

I liked the poem Lazario! Did you write it yourself?

You'd better believe it.
Actually, I used to write poetry in junior high / high school as well. I think I stopped after my sophomore year.

Here is a haiku for you all.


Here I type my words
for all to see but dammit
I just ran out of

Here's my effort, knocked up in one minute

There was a young man from Cancor
Who was steering an oil tanker
One day he got drunk
The tanker was sunk
And everyone called him a wa... ste of space.

Loomis wrote:Here is a haiku for you all.


Here I type my words
for all to see but dammit
I just ran out of

I remember an old saying..."More people write poetry than read it"

Anyways, here's a little thing I had to write for my Playwriting class. I hated the since I don't particularly like writing poetry, we had to take a nursery rhyme or fairy tale and adapt it however we wanted. I did two, a Snow White adaptation, and this one, taken from the Old Woman Who Lived In a Shoe...

There was an old woman who lived in a shoe
She had so many children she knew not what to do
She gave them some broth without any bread
Then whipped them all soundly and sent them to bed

In came Social Services, answering an anonymous call
By an evil old witch and her fly on the wall.
The fly spied for her as they took the children away
On a trip through the forest that took a week and a day

The children were scared, they were no longer home
But in company of a witch and a bowlegged gnome.
The witch saw to it all the children were fed
She wanted them fat before they were dead.

Alas the children knew of her devious plan
And set to kill the old witch, after eating her flan.
The two eldest of children, Hansel and Hope
Crept into her room with a knife and a rope.

They proceeded to tie the old witch to her bed
And with an evil grin, stuck the knife in her head.
But the witch would not die, oh no she did not
And took out a crossbow, of which two arrows were shot.

Hansel and Hope lay dead as dead on the floor
Their blood spreading quickly and straight for the door.
The old witch cackled, her throaty voice filled with glee
She took all the children and tied them to a tree.

With her switchblade in hand she began to hack
At their arms and their legs, the spine in their back
She cut out the kidneys, she cut out the brain.
She left in their nerves so they’d feel all the pain.

She took their bones out and threw them in pails
But kept their skin, their eyes, and their nails.
A feast she did make, a feast of child parts
A feast of their ribs, of their livers and hearts.

What she didn’t expect, what she had failed to see
Were her allergies to hearts, of which she ate three.
She was the last of her kind, the last of her race
And so the witch died, with a scowl on her face.

Escapay

I liked your poem Escapay, and everyone else's. Especially Loomis's. That should be nominated for something. You should write a lot of poems like that, publish them, and make a million dollars!!! Ka-ching! I'd buy it!
Here's something that I had to write for school:

Inside of me is an old oak tree
full of laughter and spirit
with glasses for unseeing eyes
Sometimes I am strong with wisdom and wonder

Other times I am weak with unending questions without an answer
I like to be bold and strong
I try to be calm and unknowing of the things that surround me

Inside of me is an old oak tree
I feel tired and worn down
I feel scared and have doubt

When people look at me I know what they see, an old man
But deep inside I know that what they see is the real me

Great poems everyone!

Nice poems from everybody

geez...I haven't wrote since a long time...at least in English

Yet...there is always a good time to
Instead of driving, have a walk
Turn out the lights and watch the moon
hearing classics instead of just rock

To drive like four hours or even six
And watch the mountains, and the sun appear
Slowly, uncovering of that silky mist
To see the land, and discover it without fear

To dance, as Sinatra said, cheek to cheek
Not those dumb moves that today are used
But a sensual dance, using the music as our muse
and making a caress with our lips, not just a kiss

As we were kids, to enjoy and not be afraid to laugh
To live once again that joy, the innocence of yesterday
Perhaps not as a kid again, at least not now
But maybe in the future as parents, come what may

Alas...I think I wrote something
But it does any sense?
How should I know, I'm kind of sleepy now
But if there's any commentary I'll appreciate it

Loomis wrote:Here is a haiku for you all.


Here I type my words
for all to see but dammit
I just ran out of

Let's just overlook the fact that a haiku should technically have at least the remotest of remote associations with nature.

It feels weird replying to something written over a year ago, and to a member who I love but who barely visits anymore. I miss the Loomis.

Dang! Your funny haiku has made me sad!

Jules wrote:

Loomis wrote:Here is a haiku for you all.


Here I type my words
for all to see but dammit
I just ran out of

Let's just overlook the fact that a haiku should technically have at least the remotest of remote associations with nature.

But Jules, there is association with nature!

"I" refers to Loomis, and he is a child of nature.

"all to see" refers to the world around us, and that is nature.

"ran out of" refers to the freedom of running through the forest, and the forest is nature!

Albert

Not every line has to rhyme!


Good job everybody.

I’m trapped in a world with the waves crashing down
And a whirlpool keep spinning me round and round
My eyesight is cloudy I’m wearing a frown
My ears hear a voice but then not a sound
The silence is driving me crazy its true
When your all by yourself without friends to help you

Here's one I read in a book once, it is about the only one I know. It's a backwards poem:
One fine october morning, september last july, the moon lay thick upon the ground while the snow shone in the sky, the flowers where singing gayley, while the birds were still in bloom, I went to the cellar to clean the upstairs room.

Did anyone like my poems ?