Author Topic: Poets' Corner: Let's have some home grown verse.  (Read 3320 times)

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Offline Jack Bauer

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Poets' Corner: Let's have some home grown verse.
« on: January 25, 2012, 06:08:42 am »
The Ballad of Nathaniel Plithy


He placed the spyglass to his eye
And what wonders did he espy?
A sail upon the frothing foam?
No, the sea's too far from home!

A barge, perhaps, upon the river
No, Nathaniel doesn't really give a
Toss for vessels sailed or powered
For his nature's too far soured.

His neighbour's garden he doth peruse
With lust for later self abuse
In naked splendour there does lay
His neighbour's wife, we'll call her Fay.

Now Fay she is a buxom girl
With hair from armpits that does twirl
And twist its way across her chest
And thus from Nathaniel hid a breast

He raged and ranted, swore and cursed
And hoped the heavens might ope and burst
He even got down to his knees
And prayed, dear God, a hint of breeze

His rantings were to no avail
No puff of air did move a sail
The hair stayed put upon her chest
She might as well have worn a vest!

Now Nathaniel loved to pull his pud
He swore it did him the world of good
But it twisted his face, its curse quite final
And made his features in form vaginal.

So hark you, youngster, hear my plea
Nathaniel's is not the way for thee
Become a judge or merchant banker
And not a useless cunt faced wanker.


Part wolf, part pirate.



“Put your hand on a hot stove for a minute, and it seems like an hour. Sit with a pretty girl for an hour, and it seems like a minute. That's relativity.”   -  Albert Einstein.

Offline chad sexington

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Re: Poets' Corner: Let's have some home grown verse.
« Reply #1 on: January 25, 2012, 06:25:14 am »
*applauds*

Offline Vypernight

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Re: Poets' Corner: Let's have some home grown verse.
« Reply #2 on: January 25, 2012, 02:40:51 pm »
Deaf and Numb

As I sip the morning brew,
my thoughts all slip right back to you.

I stagger straight across the grass;
I bang my head against the glass.

Invoking my thoughts through broken slurs;
reaching out past a patterned blur.

Why I scream, I do not know.
Why do I hate you so?

How do I wake up from this dream,
where nothing is real; it all just seems?

It all just seems to float on by.
I want to scream until I cry.

I punch the wall till my knuckles bleed.
This crimson bliss is what I need.

Smashing the bottle against my knee;
my body's screaming, but at least it's me.

I stand, stumbling, as I roam.
Wake me from this putrid coma!

My skull shrieks; my stomach curls;
my knees buckle; my last meal hurls.

This hard road burns through rippled skin,
and I forget about the pain within.

The pain within was just a mask,
liquid life buried in a flask.

Stumbling along, deaf and numb,
I couldn't see life in a little crumb.

And the shadows poked and prodded my brain,
cackling and seething all over again.

The shadow in the corner, the face in the tree;
my waking nightmares were all just me.

I'd rather my broken body crawl,
then spend life curled in a ball.

I'd rather scratch my own face,
than sit idle and watch the race.

I'd rather leap into the fear,
than think that life is just not here.

It took a flask of liquid soar
for me to see that,
I don't want to live like this anymore.


Whenever I hear a politician speaking strongly for or against abortion, all I hear is, "I have no idea how to fix the economy!"

Offline Jack Bauer

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Re: Poets' Corner: Let's have some home grown verse.
« Reply #3 on: January 25, 2012, 03:18:47 pm »
I trust that the above is not too autobiographical, Vyper.
Part wolf, part pirate.



“Put your hand on a hot stove for a minute, and it seems like an hour. Sit with a pretty girl for an hour, and it seems like a minute. That's relativity.”   -  Albert Einstein.

Offline Vypernight

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Re: Poets' Corner: Let's have some home grown verse.
« Reply #4 on: January 26, 2012, 04:04:18 am »
My wife thought the same thing.  Apparently she found my notebook (I had written it in the middle of the night), read it, and for REALLY nervous.

Honestly, I got the idea from a dream.  In my dream, I was reading the poem aloud to people.  When I woke up, I quickly wrote down what I could remember (And I'm shocked that I could remember as much) and filled in the blanks for the rest. 

Strange way to be inspired, but it worked.
Whenever I hear a politician speaking strongly for or against abortion, all I hear is, "I have no idea how to fix the economy!"

Offline m52nickerson

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Re: Poets' Corner: Let's have some home grown verse.
« Reply #5 on: January 28, 2012, 05:49:55 pm »
Her almond eyes,
they haunt me still.
She paid me no mind.
Yet still I find,
They haunt me still,
her almond eyes.
It is a tale told by an idiot, full of sound and fury, signifying nothing. ~Macbeth

Offline Osama bin Bambi

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Re: Poets' Corner: Let's have some home grown verse.
« Reply #6 on: January 28, 2012, 11:03:18 pm »
Roses are red
Violets are blue
This poem makes no sense
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Offline Vypernight

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Re: Poets' Corner: Let's have some home grown verse.
« Reply #7 on: February 16, 2012, 05:14:27 am »
2 U

When I look into your eyes,
I feel as though the skies
are crashing down
all around me.

Armageddon is near
whenever I hear
the horrible shrieking
of thee.

You've brought nothing but pain
over and over again,
and you enjoy it
without reason or rhyme.

I'd rather stick rocks down my pants
and belly-flop onto a bed of nails,
then be with you
until the end of time.




Whenever I hear a politician speaking strongly for or against abortion, all I hear is, "I have no idea how to fix the economy!"

Offline Jack Bauer

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Re: Poets' Corner: Let's have some home grown verse.
« Reply #8 on: February 16, 2012, 11:42:36 am »
FSDT, that's the place for me
A talking ground for this and that
And bashing things fundie.

Part wolf, part pirate.



“Put your hand on a hot stove for a minute, and it seems like an hour. Sit with a pretty girl for an hour, and it seems like a minute. That's relativity.”   -  Albert Einstein.

Offline TheL

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Re: Poets' Corner: Let's have some home grown verse.
« Reply #9 on: March 02, 2012, 10:12:53 pm »
The only poem of any real length I've ever written that wasn't horribly emo:

Sitting On My Ars Poetica

I never could read poems by the masters,
They always made me feel inconsequential.
Surely a sunrise, lovers, gory death,
A broken promise, an exotic beast,
Are more important than the little things
My life is made of.  Speaking to a child,
The television, blankets, breakfast cereals,
Stopping to pick up gas enroute to work,
Hold no deep meaning, no great higher purpose.
Or is the purpose of great poetry
To make a mountain out of that tired molehill
That is the tedium of one's routine?

Somewhere someone is playing Mortal Kombat
and losing; somewhere someone's busy drinking
Himself to death, and somewhere in Osaka
A drunken man is singing karaoke
Slurring some song from overseas to mush.
A dog is being walked somewhere, I'm sure--
Its owner waiting patiently to scoop up
piles of doggy business from the flowers
In next-door-neighbor's garden.  Somewhere someone
Is reading this and finding it absurd;
Somewhere some fool is reading this while stoned
Gleefully hanging on my every word.

What can I write?  I never built a bridge,
Never discovered secrets of the kosmos,
I've never eaten Thai food (much too spicy),
I never had the courage to elope.
I never found true love through online want-ads,
Never beat a man for being down,
Never been to Paris in the spring,
Never been to Boston in the fall.

I can't move mountains, and I've never climbed them.
But if that doesn't keep you from deciding
That there is some kind of important meaning
Hidden here-in, by all means, point it out!
I sure as hell can't find it by myself.
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Offline affirmedatheist

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Re: Poets' Corner: Let's have some home grown verse.
« Reply #10 on: March 03, 2012, 01:43:22 am »
An older one of mine. I'm more of a songwriter tbh, but I do dabble in poetry occasionally.

It's usually blank verse, rarely has an established rhyming pattern and often breaks and establishes a new one. I don't pretend to be good; I don't write poetry very often.

The shattering of the metre about halfway down is deliberate.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The Elegance

It all began billions of years ago
In a densely packed singularity
The whole thing went boom
Or so we assume
And thus began time and space.

The Quanta, they formed into atoms
And some of these packed in together,
Yea, from dust clouds came stars,
Those strange things, quasars
And the wonderful things in between.

Eventually the dust reaches here, and our lonely companion, the Sun
Forms form the dust and throws out its heat
And planets then form in its orbit.

On this small, one unregarded,
Small little pinprick of dust
Eruptions of smoke and of sulfur
Established our atmosphere.

And then, some time later a great event happens,
We know not to this day just how.
Whether RNA or DNA at first
Perhaps we’ll never know…
But thus began life.

No fanfare.

No celebration.

And yet from these small beginnings,
Were we yet to come.

Through many and various forms
Through mollusc and dinosaur
Were these molecules found
And eventually one of the branches
Formed into you and I.

The daily battles of Nature
Its relentless war on itself
This is the very foundation
On which was generated the many
And varied forms now known to man.

And so now, I call into question,
Who needs a God for this?
It has its own elegant form,
One which allowed us to exist.

To quote the fine words of Darwin:
”There is grandeur in this view of life”,
And I might, if presumably, add
No God is even required.

Offline Søren

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Re: Poets' Corner: Let's have some home grown verse.
« Reply #11 on: March 14, 2012, 07:41:31 pm »
Comments and opinion for this please, bit of a rush job

O angelic serpent, fiery seraphim cast
your dreary light upon my coil
lest human reason swells and
overtakes thy ambrosial pomp.
It is with divine reverence that
I prostrate myself before your
throne. O metaphysical entity, mold
the Paraclete into Adversary for
fate not dwells in halos nor
in furnace, but in the mirrored
throne of self, of hedonist delight.
Be my father, my mother, my guide,
fill me with thy fruit of knowledge
and cast me from the miasma, the
bleak sterility of man.

As the fiend is bound by chain,
as the self is pinned
by adamantine ego.
I am by thought, by spirit, by
unbound laws, I am begot
by a glorious nothing, a
profound revelation.
The rebirth of nihilism
Faisons lever l'étoile du mérite passé.  Le monde a besoin de lumière,  Le monde a besoin de la France,  La France a besoin de tous les Français.

Offline chad sexington

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Re: Poets' Corner: Let's have some home grown verse.
« Reply #12 on: March 15, 2012, 05:41:14 am »
Now you need to set it to music \m/ >:D \m/

Offline Søren

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Re: Poets' Corner: Let's have some home grown verse.
« Reply #13 on: March 15, 2012, 08:24:09 pm »
I dont know if that means if its any good or not :o
Faisons lever l'étoile du mérite passé.  Le monde a besoin de lumière,  Le monde a besoin de la France,  La France a besoin de tous les Français.

Offline chad sexington

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Re: Poets' Corner: Let's have some home grown verse.
« Reply #14 on: March 16, 2012, 04:45:17 am »
I like it.  Reminds me of Blake's more metaphysical works.