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The poetry corner - post your poems in here
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Hi everyone,
This is a thread for sharing your creative works.
Please bear in mind our community rules before submitting your work.
This thread is located in the BB Social Zone, so the primary purpose here is entertainment.
We will not publish poems containing dark or disturbing content, including themes of suicide, self-harm, death, dying, abuse or other forms of trauma.
Thanks for your understanding.
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thanks Jo,
youre doing pretty good yourself!
I fee like my poems are corny, theyre not really deep like some but its how I feel at the time and they pop into my mind randomly so I just post them.
I did have a good, hope you did too.
CMF
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Imagination plays an important part in my poetry. When depressed my imagination enables me to see situations in a totally different setting. This poem was written when depressed and angry with society, the modern world and its ability to gobble us up.
SOCIETY OF SAND
I'm sitting in a desert
of sand of friend and foe
Cant seem to find a spot
where I dont stand on toes
I collect a handful of grain
and watch as it escapes
just like some friendships
a barren temporary landscape
I create my own oasis
by weeping on a weed
but the sand around me laughs
because it doesnt have a need
Till lately it be my friends
that helped me walk the land
they help me, propping me up
-supportive grains of sand
I begin to sink so slowly
as they gather my precious hide
the quicksand laughing so loudly
a kind man says goodbye
And as I become "one of them"
my heart now granuled and dry
I try to weep to water the weeds
by sand has no means to cry
Damn it! to be like them
be damned if I be like them
I crawl out of the society of sand
- to remain the man I am.......
WK
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WK
so true, love the poem
cmf
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Don’t Quit!
When things go wrong, as they sometimes will,
When the road you’re trudging seems all up hill,
When the funds are low and the debts are high,
And you want to smile, but you have to sigh,
When care is pressing you down a bit,
Rest, if you must – but don’t you quit.
Life is queer with its twists and turns,
As every one of us sometimes learns,
And many a failure turns about,
When he might have won had he stuck it out;
Don’t give up, though the pace seems slow,
You might succeed with another blow.
Often the goal is nearer than
It seems to a faint and faltering man,
Often the struggler has given up,
When he might have captured the victor’s cup.
And he learned too late, when the night slipped down,
How close he was to the golden crown.
Success is failure turned inside out –
The silver tint of the clouds of doubt –
And you never can tell how close you are,
It may be near when it seems so far;
So stick to the fight when you’re hardest hit -
It’s when things seem worst that you mustn’t quit.
Author Anonymous
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Below is my very fist poem from year 8
A stockmans last page
As he lays his life down
He can smell the outback,
Feel the hot sticky wind
And as he lays in his swag he says goodbye
To all that matter
Riding a wild horse at night
The harsh members of authority
To his kids, his wife
But why use is life now?
When the police are on his back
And life has no meaning?
Poor as an empty jug
Useless
A stone
Life is not worth living
For a man with no home.
please keep in mind I was only 12 🙂
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Beautifully twisted existance
Wipe away the dust, leave me shattered and exposed
I am not insane yet I live for pain
I wish not to die for my faith, in which I have none
Society is pathetic and no one cares
You're all so consumed with love and regret
its not real please don't forget
Without hate lust would be love
Do you really think you can compare heaven to hell?
Our origins and our being we are left to question
My opinions are my own and on you I don't impose
I want to hurt, I want to pine
So kiss me, thrill me, kill me
Shattered and fulfilled
This oxymoron, such sweet sweet sorrow
This beautifully twisted existance we call life.
I know its a bit all over the place, but I was too 🙂 I was quite numb at the time.
I haven't written a poem in years
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They are all good poems. And at such a young age- wow.
This poem was written after I'd had difficulty fitting into two motoring clubs. The odd cyber bully, people teaming up to ostracise me etc.Of course it's all my fault according to some.
LEGS OF SPOKE
How can I let them know?
when to dark exceeds the glow
when the sun hides behind the clouds
silence they hear- but I scream so loud.
Some stand beside a 6 foot hole
shake their heads and see its toll
they ask how he could have dropped
out of the circle- a forget me knot
Yet they seem to see clear and there is hope
when they sight a person with legs of spoke
A cripple girl pushing her chair
A man be manic- there's no one there
"Storm in a tea cup" hurts so bad
like the cyber crow who remains so glad
keeps flying and in full flight
Carves his craft in the middle of the night
For some in power see it their way
even at the side of a 6 foot grave
shake their head and call out "why"
"Why on earth- he didnt have to die"
So kind some be- they reach out so true
smile then say "we want to meet you"
"bring along your vintage car and your smile
but leave at home whats behind your dial"...
So we laugh and dine and all is ok
leave at home come what may
if I be saddled with legs of spoke
they'd lift me around- bloody good bloke
But as my mind hurts so bad
cannot hide my feelings- mad?
Cant maintain "bloody good bloke"
Sometimes I wished...I had legs of spoke......
Tony WK
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A Melancholy Moment
Out of line and out of touch
a legacy not worth that much
For it's
lost in time and falling fast
the future guided by an awkward past
As the
embers dim and sadness mellows
dreams and hopes caught in the shallows
And the
empty walls and unlit spaces
reveal the flaws of forgotten faces
Which were
once embraced by a love so tender
a simple life with no agenda
And yet
anguish now; it never ceases
puzzled by the missing pieces
And the
strongest point defines the weakness
emptiness feigning absolute completeness
So will
musings of this life and such
be forever out of line and out of touch
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I haven't been on this site in months, it's great to see a place we can share our poetry now. I probably won't be able to share most of my poems, but I think this song I wrote a little while ago should probably make it through.
Chasing Dragons (a song)
When I found you on the floorI could only pray that
It’s the lowest you have ever been.
Huddled, broken by that door
Don’t you know the demons always win
When you’re chasing dragons
Chasing Dragons
You never smile anymore
I can only hope that
These bruises fade from your skin
Your fevered dreams are centipedes
Writhing, dying, consume you from within.
When you’re chasing dragons.
Chasing dragons.
Grab the tail and you soar
But then you fall just like before
A shaking ghost of who you were.
You’ll never win.
When you’re chasing Dragons.
Chasing Dragons.
Chasing Dragons.
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