Does anyone have any poetry they like to share? Here is mine...

Medieval End to a zealot Religion:

Where in the books of life, in the hands of faith has others been fated.
Mentality of human nature, guided without cause we see our soul
All that we thought it, all that we thought without it, all gone

Now naked in a field of fire the goodness of what we were vanishes
Demons preached by drunken pastor, his mind of his own
The rivers of blood swam by the condemned

There is no justice; there is no strength, a collection of a cult
A million people of one tyrant, of one power
When there is nothing secret nor safe in its destruction it will destroy its own, itself

To betray and be betrayed and the heart of the golden man,
Through time, it has ended what goodness it enclosed
And now sights are blurred and battered and its old rule all but fading


For Myself:

The heart of the forest misty and dark,
Lesser than a heart of warmth
It is cold and frail, the glass that surrounds it of no reflection
Which the cloud denies

When in sudden light there is a burst of sun, a shred of hope,
To the forgotten one,
I see myself and for what its worth, there is only fear and spite that feeds my hate

What I can’t find I might never see, that which is gone from me is never free,
If its heart comes to me, it will only fuel what I hate in me

Than there is darkened flesh,
More of beast than humanities most faithful test,
If its consumption is too much to beat, I will be alone bitter in despair,

what do you think?

I used to know a girl who wrote poetry, than she left me aint that a b*tch

I have read some sick but funny poetry

The countless days of waiting all roll through to one painful
moment of asking. Everything surges through the brain of
a mortal. For a split second the world is bliss.

--Then she says "No".

Thanks for that Goose.

Heh..it's funny because it just happened to me.

That is good, goose. I like to see that extended into a few more sentences to develope the scene more.

what you guys think of what I wrote?

Come on you guys you have to have some of your poetry? nothing you just came up with while you were bored?

Elrond, your poetry is quite stunning.

I don't know too many guys who can write poetry about themselves like you have just written.  It requires a certain combination of skill and raw emotion many men either just are not gifted with or simply cannot relate with inside themselves in the way you've expressed, as it tends to be more of a feminine than masculine quality.  I do applaud your talent. 

While what I say you may find disagreeable, this is solely what I take from your words.  I apologize but I tend to read people by what they write, so please stop reading now if you don't wish to read my interpretation of what you are trying to say.  Or you are not looking for an interpretation, rather just compliments on how beautiful it is.  It's quite beautiful.

To me, it reads you use your poetry to convey your need for human interaction.  You crave it but you will say it does not matter to you.  You mask your loneliness by comparing yourself to things that are dark;  this is your method of seeking attention.  Internal desires you supress and your perception of self.

But when you feel you have received what you seek, it becomes your sky, moon and stars.  It makes you feel...elated because you like you finally have that connection.  They make you see inside yourself.  Those aspects you despise.  Those you think you can never make go away.

Frustration.  I see a lot of frustration. 

But what do I know, yeah?  Keep up your writing.

Here.  I will submit something I wrote for you.  It's entitled "The Memory of Mountains".

The memory of mountains
spreads anger like fire
through my veins
like wind through empty passes
birds fill crimson skies
devoid of clouds
I sigh and think of coming rains
when all will not be so well

I’ll remember I cannot swim
and let currents carry me
downstream,
until I cannot help
but flail my arms
and cry out in vain

And maybe I will catch a limb,
or a drifter will 
come to my rescue and
I will convince myself
they were waiting all along,
waiting for my floating form
to pass
waiting
for my burial at sea

On my back I am thinking,
if only it didn’t hurt so much
my head toward the sky
making faint shapes of
weather beaten rocks

My eyes half closed

Water fills narrow channels
carving paths along my
misshapen nose
it’s longer now

I imagine it won’t always
be like this
dream life impending

I wait for the day
when one morning I can
wake up and think of
absolutely nothing at all.

I found this to be poetic...

"I dreamed I was a pure white falcon, flying up a
mountainside, with a quiet sea beneath me, and bright
stars above me.  I was holding keys tightly in my talons.
Then I heard your voice, as you said, "I'm with you, Buster,
hugging you as we sit on this rock." Then I reached the top
of the mountain, and became a boy again.  I was six years
old, maybe seven.  I was wearing white robes as I drank
clear water from God's fountain.  Then I jumped into a
scarlet robe, ran to a cliff, and looked at angels;
they wanted to wash my feet, but I assured them I
could do it myself.  So I washed my hands and feet,
and then I woke into this BETTER, MORE PLEASANT dream
of you being here to love and protect me, to teach me about
the world.  I love you, mom." -- BUSTER CHAN

I'm considering adding the following song to a future edit of the scene where Banana talks with her friend Adam Sprite...

When ADAM SPRITE calls BANANA his NIRVANA GIRL,
Banana asks:  "What's a Nirvana girl?"
Adam holds her hands, looks in her eyes, and sings:

Everyone's comfortable because of your love;
they smile with comfortable certainty,
knowing that they'll always see
your smile.
Everyone who feels loved
because of your smile,
feels so loved
that they smile!
Your smile makes them smile -- it makes them feel loved!
You make them feel loved.
You are good enough
to defend good or bad
from feelings that are sad.
The un-free that are free
because of your smile
are countless innocents!
You make the guilty innocent!
You free the un-free!
I feel good enough to see the
one who smiles!
I am good enough to see the one
who smiles!
You are good enough to be the one
who smiles!
You're my Nirvana Girl.

Banana says, "Just so you know:  I already have a boyfriend."

ADAM says:  "Just so you know:  So do I."

Banana laughs hysterically.

S P R I N G ' S          B R E A K




Rebirth of death unto its former shape,
Whose icy tentacles will soon perish,
From vanquished, burst forth new green forces draped,
Budding life replaces the nightmarish.


Where tiny alabaster icebergs clear,
Meld with branching seas of envious hue.
Then Winter's fangs shrink to degrees obscure
Whose translucent blood nourishes anew.


Windy howlings cease to pierce the aether,
The chattering of feathered kin will sound,
Hoary rays of sunshine tempt the meeker,
And cerulean canvases astound.


Then what was once, will then come once again,
But metamorphosed, filled to edges brim.

The Last Chance

To whisper that love is a garnet rose
Of virtuous temperance and radiance
That, weary minded, forgets all our woes
To dare to emanate some brilliance

Whose hands of ancient carved you in soft jade?
Heavens bright beacon to bay at the hounds
That none born in hell could tempt her to fade
Whose breath doth breathe Natures wind in sweet sound

Cascades of amber gracing the flawless
And eyes the tempting shade of summer skies
Possess ange'lic grace of trapped enchantress
And with a single touch lifts souls on high

Mere smile with brandished, marring elegance
A mortal goddess gifts her mortal realm
Wielding pureness of earthly permanence
A laugh a tempest to uproot life's helm

To clutch with a stuttering hesitance
              Bleed away our souls with a flowers thorns   
Virgin wounds opened in anxious presence
To be near, to touch, and in dreams adorn
   
Withering as soft petals of virtue
No kind words, no phrase of some assurance
No joyful hori'zons for to follow you
Only sorrows sad endless occurrence

Reminisce of lost times and last chances
Face Fate and turn your back to the expanse

              The Golden Path



When I plead to the darkness, and find it's touch

See through blackness, it's fingers come groping   

Blindly to meet the harbingers approach

I herald my friend, cease vainly hoping



In dark bosom we're illuminated

In panes of divinity brightly reared

Epiphany that which is created                         

From minds fathomless depths where others fear



Wrought in tranquility of solitude

Thought wavers like ribbons in loneliness

Casting lonely shadows of fortitude

That fear should engulf such a holiness



But I, alone, don't succumb mortal wrath

And will tread, courage bound, the Golden Path