[Guest]

Here is my poem:

The White House

the white house is the right house to be living in

you'll never be hungry ever again

you'd think you'd be happy but with all this fear and doubt

all the people can do is jeer and pout

i can handle it you say with a pound

ha i laugh you'd be hiding in the ground

while we relax in the sand

they keep shrapnel from coming from Vietnam

[Anon26]

Sports are a dangerous thing

Pulled a tendon,

Now a muscle is stretched,

A little low dive,

Now whole knee scratched.

Sprint hard and stop,

The jerk will get your back,

quickly turn around,

Now there's a twist in your leg.

And Now you run,

and Now you fall.

Cracked is the collar-bone,

And socket out of ball.

Lying on the floor,

Luck is bad, you know

For you came in a Porsche,

and in an ambulance you go.

You walkin on crutches,

Plastered is your hand,

your wrist smell of ointments,

Around your back is a band.

Sports are a dangerous things,

A synonym to suicide.

Dont know why, so many prefer,

A quicker way is Cyanide.

~Anon26

[Anon26]

My above poem have a long painful background.

I wrote it one night when I was really bitter.

[Aaryan]

That's really good!

[Anon26]

Thanks

[Anon26]

Telling the reason for this poem (on request) (Weak hearted people, DO NOT READ!)

It happened to me last year in Aug/Sept, that while playing Badminton, I did something to my feet. It was something really horrible and I couldnt even walk without feet hurting. I went to doc, no relief. That hell of thing lasted for 6 months!!. Tho the pain subsided in 4 months, It would flare up again if I would even jog.

I later did online symptoms checkup, and came to know that it is some "Tendonitis" thingy

In March it got right, but my Exams were near.

In May, the 24th, I went to play again, and literally did something to my leg. I tried a comfort myself that one day of rest would put me right, I was wrong.

A week later I went to play again.

I did someting to my wrist then,

and to be honest, My wrist isnt the same from that day.

So here it is my painful story, And one day, when my wrist injury was still fresh, I wrote the poem in my bitterness.

[Auramyna]

That really is a heaps good poem, mark my words. (Hey, you're not marking it. I said "MARK IT!")

But do you really have a Porsche? Also, I used to have wrist problems and knee problems. That's all gone now but my knees still crack really easily, like going up stairs. It's not painful but it's so annoying. I hope you get over your wrist problems. It should get better over time. Mine was so bad that I nearly had to have an operation but it got better by itself so yours should too.

Did you mark my words yet

Edit: Oh, your wrist only got injured one month ago? It will get better, (mark my words.)

Edited June 26, 2011 by Auramyna

[Anon26]

Marked IT!

[Guest]

this is kind of a poem (was written as a song) I wrote it when i was feeling kind of lonely. Then I realized that their are people out there that have no friends at all. It made me want to reach out to people that are different than me.

I walk the lonely road

no friends for me

i sit all by myself

stay away from me

but deep inside i really just want a friend to call my own

they tease they laugh they chew me up and spit me out

i cant take any more of this

i try to blend they simply tend to stare and mock and curse my trend

i cant take anymore of this

does anyone care

that i dare share

my sorrow with a bank stare

ill shed my tears in the shadow

and there ill let all emotion go

and ill bet that you dont even notice

the scars that sit on my wrist

or the tears in my eyes

would you dare to be my friend

i dont want to be alone

i just want a friend

to call my own

[Guest]

i cant do this on my own

i feel so alone

will i reach the point of no return

Hells the place were the wicked burn

will you ever throw in the towel

and leave me in all the things that ive defiled

I remember when i always called to you

and you always told me what to do

I have not forgoten that death is only the beginning of life

and that this strife will draw me to the light

ill stand in your promises and refuse defeat

cause you stood in my place and took the heat

Edited June 27, 2011 by curious*isnt*it

[Guest]

U ARE STILL MINE

Can i ask something to you,

do you still love me as i do,

will you hold me again,

when i will be in pain,

tell me i need to know,

that you are still mine.

Will you kiss me again,

as you kissed me in the rain,

tell me i need to know

that you are still mine

i know it hurted you a lot,

but that was just what i got,

i didnt know what love is all about,

but now can tell without a doubt

that my love for you is forever,

i will let you go baby never never,

just tell me i need to know

that you still are mine

[Anon26]

Bringing my poem posted in "One me up" thread, to its rightful place.

THe Rich Man

There is no man as rich,

as a the man up the Bree.

Rich man he is they say,

rich man, he must then be.

He got a car of glittering gray.

They say it came from over the sea

ten or more he have, they say,

rich man, he must then be.

In politics he got a heresay,

and knows everything that is to be.

Influential man he is they say,

rich man, he must then be.

A large mansion here lay,

they say it belongs to he,

one in every state, they say

rich man he must then be.

~~~

His daughter ran away,

one night with a man she,

poor man he is, I say

poor man he must then be.

He fainted one or twice.

They say stress it was on he,

weak man he is, I say,

poor man he must then be.

Got a uncurable disease one day,

no wealth could evade the death to be.

Helpless man he is, I say.

Poor man he must then be.

Of all the mansions he ever owned

6 ft of land was all he needed,

to rest the coffin to the final home,

to the truth, if he had heeded.

There was no man as rich

as the poor man that lived in Bree,

got mansions, but was not content,

poor man he must then be.

[Akriti]

I used to write poems but they are totally worst, maybe childish.

You guys write nice poems.

[Anon26]

Share it whatsoever, Akriti.

Majority of mine are childish poems. These good ones pop up once in a while.

SO.

SHARE IT!

[Guest]

SEASONS OF LIFE

Flowers blossom, to the children's song,

Before you lies the the string of fate.

Life is a symphony, one bad note can turn it wrong,

Make the best of it, it's soon too late.

Oh, young child, my time is near,

Write your story, with a smile.

I have no sadness, nor any fear,

For my story's over in a while.

Spring's soon over, I feel so small,

I shall end it with a tear.

For I'm too young, I cannot see it all,

Oh, how I wish summer's here.

Wake up, wake up - Feel the sun,

It's summer, I am grown.

I can talk, walk, jump and run,

At last I'm not alone!

Ocean waves, we all are learning,

The lights they shine so far away.

See the clouds, the wind is turning,

No doing tomorrow, what can be done today.

Look at the August midnight sky, oh, another chapter of my story.

And every living sunbeam been deprived,

And yet my wings aren't grown to fly, still so many things to worry,

Oh my dearest autumn, please arrive.

Look my son, the leaves are falling, oh, so beautiful a sight.

Go play, go play my little darling, go and have some fun.

Oh, the breeze, evening's calling, oh, the stars they shine so bright.

Oh nay, oh nay, autumn is not boring, but how I wish the rain was gone.

And my darling, dearest wife, with whom I share my every second,

Would you care to join me in a dance?

See, under shining suns of wisdom, it seemed that I had reckoned,

'Tis not too late for a warm romance.

O, thy white and lifeless snow, I wish thy wasn't here,

Whilst the choir of deadly angels sing,

My life has been an empty journey, did not grasp the time while it was there.

Oh my love, how I wish, how I wish it was still Spring.

[Anon26]

Nice Artie

[Guest]

I love the poems ive been working on one for a while its almost complete.

['Cat'astrophe]

HEre's one of of mine....

A Face in the Crowd

Lost in the madding crowd

Shoved and pushed around

The Road thronging with people

How many have found,

Or shall, an identity find?

Lost in the milling grind

Is a face that does not want

To forever be suffocated, be hidden,

To be asleep in tomorrow's dawn

The crowd screams,'Tis a reckless dream'.

Lost in the crushing stream

The face turns, the heart

Striving to preserve the spark

Feet trying to fight the flow, dart

Towards the horizon never to stop

Lost in the engulfing mob

Heads turn, a rebel they see

'You're on of us', they shout

But will too strong, the rebel breaks free

To find, discover and know

To see, feel, breathe and be known

Something different, something new

And like the brethren who had afore broken away

The face has again a name to say

Never to look back, never to repent

Never to feel alone, never to resent

The face proclaims, firm and aloud

Never again to be just ANOTHER FACE IN THE CROWD..

Its long...but pls read the whole thing..

[Guest]

i'm loving brainden u can just do everyth here can't u ? i just discovered this thread i love the poems especially catastrophe and anon...btw anon when u got to the 6 ft part i instantly thought of the story "how much land does one man need?" i felt that it was a modernized version of it XD i love that story and the moral behind it as i love the moral behind yours.. really got to me and awesome style too

i wrote this a year ago in a bit of a daze bu t here we go .. got to start somewhere right ?

Pondering at the sky one day

when thoughts in my mind began to play

i gazed in longing up above

when a cheerful thought crept its way around what i was thinking of

a thought i thank my mind

for it was really of different kind

if i were a fluffy white cloud

i would wonder in the sky floating proud

and simply observing all i see

and see all that the world could turn to be

i could fly over to Malaysia

and admire it's leafy canopies

or saunter over to rio

and take part in its week long festivities

i might even ride the winds to New York

and watch the concrete jungle do its work

oh how i would love to be that puffy ball

with nothing to do, not one thing at all

except sprinkle some dreary drops

and take part in life's on-going plots

but then again if i were a fluffy white cloud

with nothing to do but floating proud

i'ld get to see quite a bit

and for some reason in my mind that is throwing a fit

although i would live long and free

all that would come with a fee

i'ld watch in horror as those leafy canopies

would burn to ashes by expanding societies

and gaze helplessly as humanity takes its toll on the sea

all i once loved destroyed before me

i'ld figure our with time all of life's mysteries

and i'm not sure if i would be pleased

i'ld uncover all of man's faults and follies

and i fear that would cover up there few beauties

i'ld be stuck watching the world be attacked

as my spirit would eventually turn black

on that note i'ld like to add

that maybe just lying here isn't so bad

satisfied with what little i know

for this thought taught me, too much knowledge is poison for the soul

i know it's long but please bare

['Cat'astrophe]

its really nice and positive guppy...Me Like!!

[Guest]

thanku catastrophe i liked yours as well!

[Akriti]

Mine are childish, and poor, but I will give it a try :

THAT'S MOTHER :

When you face obstruction,

she will be there with solution.

That's mother

When you are in a celebration,

she will be there in addition.

That's mother

When you feel repulsion,

she will be there for consideration.

That's mother

When you are under destruction,

she will be there for protection.

That's mother

When you need attention,

she will be there with attraction.

That's mother

To offer all her blessings and every happiness in life,

she will be there.

That's mother

(I wrote it when I was 12 yrs old )

[Guest]

annnn it's so sweet

i like it ... for a twelve year old that was pretty gd

*cheers* to mothers

and your poem is in the same theme as your signature coincidence or u were in the mood to make it all about mothers?

Edited November 6, 2011 by guppy

[Akriti]

Thanx, I wrote this one yesterday, at night, when I was not feeling like sleeping

Power Of Faith

Oh, I see a sweet girl sitting there,

I looked around and saw no one care.

I hesitated a bit to go to her and talk,

But the glint of her tears compelled me to walk.

She looked at me with her red eyes,

didn't even try to cover it with lies.

I looked into her eyes, a deep sea of sadness,

Froze me in my position, knowing about her less.

But those heavy with tears eyes were telling their tale,

As I listened to those eyes, I knew there was blowing a strong gale.

The gale so strong which blew,

The trees and their snowy leaves also flew.

I was pulled by the sadness of the child,

Which was as gloomy as the weather outside.

I could see the images in her eyes, that took me inside her mind,

the doctors discussing about her, there wasn't a cure they could find.

As I snapped back to reality,

Went to the girl, an old man from small city.

As all knew, the man poured out words of love and wisdom,

He never talked about the death of girl that was to come.

His only talk was that 'Have faith, faith is very powerful',

I wondered the way he did so as his words were wonderful.

Before leaving, the man said to the patient, pointing to a tree,

'If any of the leaves the tree survive the strong snow storm, y'll be free'.

As the old man left, hobbling around in the room,

A ray of hope passed her face, she, after a long time, did bloom.

Early, next morning, as I was on my way,

There was a crowd around a body that lay.

A wave of grief passed in me,

As I asked myself how could this be.

As I recognized the cold frozen body of the old man,

Who talked with the girl yesterday, saw him being carried away in van.

I talked with people around and inquired how this happened,

Another person told me that at night, he saw this man nail iron leaves to a tree around.

I immediately understood and ran towards the hospital tree,

On my way, I saw all trees were leaves free.

Except a tree, that my eye caught,

in front, the hospital where girl's life and death fought.

I rushed into the hospital ward, and being relaxed, to the girl I waved,

I saw that the girl was out of danger, she had been saved.

I see the power of faith now,,

And the game of fate invoked in me a wow.

The girl was never told the fate of his,

She still believes that old man will come, and she'll see him.

Summery of the story - This story is about a girl who was sure to die he next day. A man, who has never met that girl before, knew this and told her that if "any leaf of this tree survives the cold winter storm, that will approach at night, you will survive". Later that night, the man went to that tree, and nailed iron leaves to the tree. But because of the severe cold, he was taken ill, and died that very night. While, in the hospital, when the girl saw leaves on the tree, she was so happy that she knew she couldn't die, and she survived.

Edited November 8, 2011 by Akriti

['Cat'astrophe]

Is this based on an O Henry Story...coz I think I've read the story somewhere...but really well put in a poem

[Akriti]

I don't know, I also just remember having read or heard this story.