Very nice poem by the way, i wish i had your skill of linguistics!
Really keep up the good work!

At 5/10/05 07:40 PM, Freak_Legionary wrote: Very nice poem by the way, i wish i had your skill of linguistics!
Really keep up the good work!

Thanks. Yours was quite good as well.

Sorry I havent posted in a while... Im soo busy with school stuff im rarely on NG... I'll do my best to try and post in here as much as possible...

I make songs for coed music groups, and this is one of them.

Remember

- Can you remember when we first met?
I was dumb, and it was a part of a bet.
The love was true so don’t fret.
I was able to catch you without a net.
Can you remember our first kiss?
You were the one that said “Put your lips like this.”
You were warm, and that day was bliss.
Is my plea for your remembrance a hit or miss?
Chorus- Do you remember us together at the age of nine?
Remember when I was there to sooth your crying.
Do you remember all the times we were caught lying?
Do you remember all the time we spent together fighting?
Do you remember the first “I love you?”
Do you remember the first thoughts on the “I do?”
Do you remember our version of the blues?
Will you respond to me as yes or who?
- Remember when you were so clumsy?
Always picking you up, since you were bubbly.
I try not to remember the things that were ugly.
Remember when I asked you to be my hubby?
I’ve tasted all things which belongs to serenity.
Remember when our love matched the word infinity?
To think I used to be a void vicinity?
Do you remember when we lost our virginity?
Chorus- Do you remember us together at the age of nine?
Remember when I was there to sooth your crying.
Do you remember all the times we were caught lying?
Do you remember all the time we spent together fighting?
Do you remember the first “I love you?”
Do you remember the first thoughts on the “I do?”
Do you remember our version of the blues?
Will you respond to me as yes or who?
- I try to remember your name.
It’s not important, I was a flame.
You were more, I am to blame.
Tell me what’s in a name?
I loved, I’m not a sinner.
Don’t lie, it’s makes things dimmer.
I can’t see, I’ve burnt my cinder.
I loved you too, try not to remember.
Chorus- Do you remember us together at the age of nine?
Remember when I was there to sooth your crying.
Do you remember all the times we were caught lying?
Do you remember all the time we spent together fighting?
Do you remember the first “I love you?”
Do you remember the first thoughts on the “I do?”
Do you remember our version of the blues?
Will you respond to me as yes or who?

Comments Appreciated

The Biggest Mistake

A few years ago,
I made a small incision,
Onto my eyes,
Peripheral vision.

Dreams and dangers,
Dancing there,
Are gone forever,
It's true, I swear.

A love for life,
And sparkling mystery,
Are now just part,
Of a sad irony.

Not bad at all^

Here's another one of mine.

Wish

- Too many wants, too many desires.
Yet not enough to ease your fire.
You want many things, before you expire.
You want too much, your health is dire.
Too many wants, you can’t handle this.
Too much on your plate, you can’t clean your dish.
If you get what you want will that be it?
It can be granted if that’s your wish.
Chorus- Too much to gain, too many desires.
Too many things on your list to forget.
Would receiving all your wants make you feel higher?
You think, you don’t forget, there fore you keep your list.
You say many things, I believe you’ve had your laugh.
Try to walk past greed’s shrouded mist.
If you get it will you be sad or glad?
Just close your eyes and speak of your wish.
- I’ve had it, I can’t take much more of this.
I’m telling too much, too many wants can make you sick.
You look for an end, and hope that it’ll fit.
Remembering and hoping that you don’t forget your skit.
The wants trigger a pulsating sensation deep in your wrist.
Notice the feelings in this as your heart skips.
You get what you want, but is that truly bliss.
Was all this worth one wish?
Chorus- Too much to gain, too many desires.
Too many things on your list to forget.
Would receiving all your wants make you feel higher?
You think, you don’t forget, there fore you keep your list.
You say many things, I believe you’ve had your laugh.
Try to walk past greed’s shrouded mist.
If you get it will you be sad or glad?
Just close your eyes and speak of your wish.
- My game for wanting is dominoes.
Lay them down, stack them up and precede, I mean follow.
My life becomes plain as I learn that I’m hollow.
Black and white, forever onto tomorrow.
I had a wish, and that was to get by.
Hard to comply, I often ask why.
I look at life one last time.
Don’t worry, I’m not planning suicide.
Chorus- Too much to gain, too many desires.
Too many things on your list to forget.
Would receiving all your wants make you feel higher?
You think, you don’t forget, there fore you keep your list.
You say many things, I believe you’ve had your laugh.
Try to walk past greed’s shrouded mist.
If you get it will you be sad or glad?
Just close your eyes and speak of your wish.

Trying to keep this club alive.

Purgatory

- If I die would I go to heaven or hell?
If I could determine my own judgment I could tell.
The talk of death hardens like a shell.
Tell me, when did life become a show and tell?
Suicide burns me, the thought of it is often inflammatory.
Many people give up, it’s often sorry.
Losing all protection, only my soul can protect me.
I’ll know where to go when I reach the purgatory.
Chorus- Don’t be scared, it’s OK to be afraid.
True death only shows up wisdom and age.
Release your feelings from your cage.
Don’t get lost within life’s confusing maze.
Like a mind’s haze; it fades into history.
Death is common and is often a mystery.
If you’re blind then I’ll help you see.
The final judgment is at the purgatory.
- Let’s talk about the crossroads.
The holy road, which gathers souls.
There’s no discrimination between young and old.
There is no distant feeling in your heart that’s hot or cold.
Parting from there; letting all hate cease.
From there; also departing all emotions needed release.
The consistent feelings of contentment have increased.
You must remember that your soul doesn’t have a lease.
Chorus- Don’t be scared, it’s OK to be afraid.
True death only shows up wisdom and age.
Release your feelings from your cage.
Don’t get lost within life’s confusing maze.
Like a mind’s haze; it fades into history.
Death is common and is often a mystery.
If you’re blind then I’ll help you see.
The final judgment is at the purgatory.
- Laying way, to all those that have fallen.
Like a shade, coming when the sun is calling.
Saying “bye”, before fate falls upon them.
Don’t lie; it burdens the soul by making it grim.
Sweet melodies, as humans we all bleed.
Meaning, we should help everyone in need.
Feelings of blue, confused, and questioning on what to do.
Be true to, and you will find great satisfaction within you.
Chorus- Don’t be scared, it’s OK to be afraid.
True death only shows up wisdom and age.
Release your feelings from your cage.
Don’t get lost within life’s confusing maze.
Like a mind’s haze; it fades into history.
Death is common and is often a mystery.
If you’re blind then I’ll help you see.
The final judgment is at the purgatory.

Someone, give me a review - be it bad or good, I'd especially appreciate some insight on it.

**
I'm a gyser of pain
In the form of a boy
You're a peaceful girl, enticed
Like a moth to the flames

Drink deeply, else you live on
In a world of invisible smog

I'm an unknowing fool
Company loves misery
You're a girl, still unfazed
Embers lick at your wings

Drink deeply, else you die
In a world unconscious of love

Hypnotized by the world
I'm a pill oh so sweet
Hypnotized by the pain
You return to the flames

Run quickly, else you live on
In a world of visible smog

I'm a raging blaze
In the form of a boy
You're a dying moth
Now a girl of ashes

Run quickly, else you die
In a world conscious of love

**

Just wondering if I could join. I don't wright a lot of peotry, but when I do, people tell me it's really good. I need help on interpreting a few poems for English class. I need "I, Too," "The Weary Blues," and "Negro Speaks of Rivers," each are by Langston Hughes. I need to portray the "Black Expireance" using poetic devices. If you can help, let me know. Once again I would like to join this crew. Thanx

At 5/19/05 10:49 PM, Sovielus wrote: Just wondering if I could join. I don't wright a lot of peotry, but when I do, people tell me it's really good. I need help on interpreting a few poems for English class. I need "I, Too," "The Weary Blues," and "Negro Speaks of Rivers," each are by Langston Hughes. I need to portray the "Black Expireance" using poetic devices. If you can help, let me know. Once again I would like to join this crew. Thanx

Yes, this club is open to anyone who wants to join. Put in you best work here. Some more members would be nice. I welcome you.

At 5/19/05 11:04 PM, Mast3rMind wrote: Yes, this club is open to anyone who wants to join. Put in you best work here. Some more members would be nice. I welcome you.

Not trying to be rude, and not saying that guy isnt welcome, but who put you incharge?

At 5/20/05 04:47 PM, LamboFactor wrote: Not trying to be rude, and not saying that guy isnt welcome, but who put you incharge?

Sorry. It's just that I've seen this club deteriorate, I don't want this club to go away. It's pretty cool. It wasn't my call, sorry about that. It seems as though you've been in this club longer so I'll hand it to you, or any of the old members. Once again, I'm sorry.

Its ok... You can let people in... I was just bored and im sorta mad at somebody so i guess i sorta took it out on you... Sorry

At 5/20/05 05:09 PM, LamboFactor wrote: Its ok... You can let people in... I was just bored and im sorta mad at somebody so i guess i sorta took it out on you... Sorry

If you are mad about something and you want to get it off your chest, you should come tom society so we can talk about it, see about losing the anger. As for the taking it out on me, don't worry about, it's OK to get piss off every now and then. The club looks alive so I'm putting another one of my songs in. I hope you all enjoy this one.

Divided We Fall

- Too much confusion, I can’t take it all.
I try to do many things whether it’s huge or small.
A new direction can be evolved to put problems in stall.
Can’t you see? Divided we fall.
I can’t tell you if this is a poem or a song.
I can’t tell you what’s taking peace so long.
The world feels hazy like a universal hit from a bong.
Divided we fall. Together were strong.
Chorus- Let’s try to make amends instead of causing hate.
Causing hate is an action that often replicates.
Things that happen isn’t always based on fate.
It’s best to get together before it’s too late.
Why, why, why we can’t get along?
We stand divided and that’s why were not strong.
We have enough time, what you do is your call.
It’s best to get together or agree to fall.
- Why is it so hard to claim serenity?
How long will it take before time hits infinity?
Why can’t we all love each other instead of being enemies?
What was once called beautiful sadly becomes ugly.
What makes us hate each other?
Why can’t we treat others like a sister or brother?
Why can’t we respect one another?
Why listen to me, I’m not your mother.
Chorus- Let’s try to make amends instead of causing hate.
Causing hate is an action that often replicates.
Things that happen isn’t always based on fate.
It’s best to get together before it’s too late.
Why, why, why we can’t get along?
We stand divided and that’s why were not strong.
We have enough time, what you do is your call.
It’s best to get together or agree to fall.
- I believe it’s time for healing.
No time for crime or dealing.
There’s no time to sit idle by and by.
No use to wonder, ask, and cry.
No more killings, no more knives.
No more hate, no more taken lives.
With all emotions still existent.
Please put more spirit in them.
Chorus- Let’s try to make amends instead of causing hate.
Causing hate is an action that often replicates.
Things that happen isn’t always based on fate.
It’s best to get together before it’s too late.
Why, why, why we can’t get along?
We stand divided and that’s why were not strong.
We have enough time, what you do is your call.
It’s best to get together or agree to fall.

i said this from nowhere in aim and i had to share it lol.

I live in a world thats so fucked up it seems that everyone's lost.
People wander their lives searching for a cause, something worth the cost.
Emotions keep us different, keep us going, yet its emotions that end us, stop the growing....
The pain is unknowing, to others you put on a face,
Noone knows how you feel, your happy but in life thats never the case.
If we ever found what we were looking for would we know what to do with it?
Would we lose it or use it to grow stronger and be through with it?

There is always time in peoples life where it seems everything is perfect.
We use that time and keep it in our memories, to make everything seem worth it.
Life is worth living
Too bad we spend most of it fighting.....

oh and zeroasalimit

that poem was AWESOME
dude for real it was short but that was some of the best metaphors omg!
that was really cool lol.

At 5/20/05 08:41 PM, Pandora_Tranquil wrote: There is always time in peoples life where it seems everything is perfect.
We use that time and keep it in our memories, to make everything seem worth it.
Life is worth living
Too bad we spend most of it fighting.....

Nice wording on that one. And yes you do have a good point. We do spend most of our time fighting, but it's not our fault, it's the way things are meant to be. Without that feeling in your heart, another emotion would fail to live up to it's meaning. This is only my opinion. Great work.

thx lol i don like getting that "mushy" usually, but i do like poetry every now and then.
and every now and then i make something like this. (took like 2 mins)

I need a little help. I need interpretations of the poems "I, Too" "Negro Speaks of Rivers" and "The Weary Blues" by Langston Hughes. I need to use poetic devices (metephore, imagry, allusions, ect.) to portray the "black expireance." If you can help, that would be appreciated.

Im guessing this is for school... You know you can find all that out by searching google rite?

Here are a few more:

Creature Comfort

From the pain come the dream
As suffering cripples all drive,
And that desire for better burns
As each spirit lights each seat.

From the dream come the vision
As dusk seizes earth’s afflatus;
One face protrudes as the vanguard of pain,
And each cycle becomes another encounter.

From the vision come the people
As each mouth spreads another,
And each tear creates an ambiguity,
While the word is explained once more.

From the people come the power
As the cavalcade reaches the horizon,
And the apartheid politicians abhor,
And the visage of the free pirouettes.

From this power come the change
As fear invents a new sufferer
And the children sing, but
Watch as they reach for creature comfort.

Simple Sounds

Time has not arrived, and now it will pass,
For simple sounds of death creep ‘round forever,
And I assure, the lighter noise dies the clever,
But at the utmost, the whisper holds its dire mass.
Though forgiveness is given for a mortal sin,
It is trust and voice that saves that is: commits.
Don’t die with your own kind, your first kind, like that pin.
And, yes, be sure that this is it – signal transmits!
The perfect sound is touch and fall –
Through gentle hums from afar
Young thumping fist – the healing heat –
Travels ‘cross the field afar
Yet noise and touch are far too slow to stop the fall of a once rising star.

Even if that call blows in the calm air,
It will be that cry that is ignored each night,
And though nigh the call soon seems, what feeds is the sight.
Never give way as death glares that eternal stare,
And remember! time has come for those sounds to sound.
Look deep around imagining every one pew,
Because sometimes a price is measured pound for pound
Now, signal gives way as the death begins anew.
The perfect sound is touch and fall –
Through gentle hums from afar
Young thumping fist – the healing heat –
Travels ‘cross the field afar
Yet noise and touch are far too slow to stop the fall of a once rising star.

He, Observing the Wing-Eater

Those satire eyes defeated and rendered
That wandering mind completed with splendor
For he looks upon his victims without vision
And senses the shadows in prominent decision
A sudden pause jolts the bumps of your skin
While a quiet nod comforts your flush fallen sin
Shoulders strong and a den’s mouth broad
Garments of status and hair stricken blonde
In a powerful pose as he lifts his soft face
A striking resemblance, in your dream, of one place
The kindness so subtle, but the anger so thick
The purpose of reason, but the purpose is sick
Adrenaline filled lungs you hold as his lips part
The words seemingly righteous as his bold voice soon starts
‘I am the joy of your dreams, but the breaker of heart
I am the will of your leisure, but the serpent’s soul part
The destroyer of free, the commons only chance,
The reason’s true light, the barren’s last stance;
I both look like an angel, but feel like the beast;
I am the wing-eater, and I have come here to feast.’
Every word vibrates a scratchy dark song
Then he closes his mouth and stares at the ground
His jacket unbuttons one at a time
His hair shields his face as the church bells do chime
The pews are all formal, hand carved like an art
The altar undressed; bare as your will soon departs
The church ceiling powerfully high, the windows elegantly long,
The emotions punctually off, the spirit undoubtedly strong
Your rosary weaves through your fingers with grace
You can’t help but feel your place in this space
You look in his eyes and stand in demand
You capture his grin and claim, ‘I don’t understand.’
He steps towards you as his coat falls like drapes
He leans in so close that you want to run and escape
He whispers so gently, almost comforting and kind,
‘You never will,’ and your fears you do find
A moment of realization of good, evil and purpose
Satan’s allegory has now finally surfaced
A darkness fog falls and layers the church
As you sense all your wrongs and opportunities you search
He slowly steps back and your chill disappears
You witness a miracle but what returns are your fears
Wanting to find that moment or lapse
You are too caught up imagining the wing-eater’s flap
The motive no longer to discover what is true
But to burn up all motives and exploit God’s ridden truth
The burst of the truth is the philosopher’s sire
As wind travels higher and your vocation sets afire
You look upon him piece by piece
Images flash, the souls of the deceased
Then the purest white creeps, with grace, over his shoulders
The room soon settles and the candles grow colder
A shadow bursts over you in a motion of spring
Like tender roses growing, it is the most beautiful thing
But in that blinding gust of aero force
The candles blow out and the room shutters from the source
They spread even further; an image of God
But then the darkness spreads over - black wings of fog
With one subtle move he lifts into the air
And peers over those dear with a deep scowled stare
Yet another man enters with astonish and shock
For the sights one can see with never size up
The man named father, but without a son of his own
Kneels down at the angel oblivious to disown
Obscure as this is, the angel’s eyes seem so pure
But his actions seem dark without sight of the cure
The angel of darkness, not Satan himself
But a blonde man once said to rarely use his mouth
He seems to spare the priest but floats towards you
You stand strong like a soldier in both ignorance and true
You wish you flew too like he as he strides
He nears and raises his arm as if to confide
He touches your heart and you suddenly feel weak
He leans over your shoulder; some kind of sick freak!
You try to back up, but you are solid in your spot
His wings wrap around you, you feel very distraught
Encased in his beauty, his wings wash with snow
The pure white fades back and you feel a new calm that flows
A heat builds up around your pumping heart from his palm
His words, to your soul, a silent soft feed
He whispers in your ears,
‘Forever, shall be the life that you lead.’

Comments?

Hi, i would like to Join, i am also a published/award-winning poet (a REALLY small award but im still proud of it) i would really like some good constructive critcism on my stuff because the people i ask here are to nice to say it needs improvment, that is really frustrating right?
here is an intro poem:

Insanity
We all teeter dangerouisly,
Apon the cliff of insanity,
where there is no room for fear nor doubt,
should we doubt ourselves,
or fear one another
we will fall,
endlessly
foreverand ever
within the walls of insanity themselves.

I've been real busy with school and havent had much time to write so I decided i'd post one of my 3 favorite poems.

ee cummings: the way to hump a cow is not...

the way to hump a cow is not
to get yourself a stool
but draw a line around the spot
and call it beautifool

to multiply because and why
dividing thens by nows
and adding and(i understand)
is hows to hump a cows

the way to hump a cow is not
to elevate your tool
but drop a penny in the slot
and bellow like a bool

to lay a wreath from ancient greath
on insulated brows
(while tossing boms at uncle toms
is hows to hump a cows

the way to hump a cow is not
to push and then to pull
but practicing the art of swot
to preach the golden rull

to vote for me(all decent mem
and wonens will allows
which if they don't to hell with them)
is hows to hump a cows

Here is another by me if anyone is interested:

Augmen

A man quite young, but of sire status
Walked along the streets with pride
He looked down upon all others
With an arrogant and powerful stride
The man well known as Augmen
Was the epitome of prime
Though the satire of envy
His suit was of mundane dye
The young women looked on forever
And they wished only to be his bride
He charmed and he complimented
Living the life of a handed ride
However, deep down, life was a stronger tide

He traveled the streets to the furthest ends
Whilst counting the glances upon his way
And tipped his hat to the fairest ladies
Whilst speaking the words, “’tis a beautiful day.”
The flowers grew fruitful, the humming birds hummed
It was an early aft in the spring of May
Though these blessings Augmen rarely noticed
For he was too caught up in his own display
So he walked on envisioning his destination
As the right of his mouth sprouted upwards in his face
Though this was strangely ironic
Because that who he sought at his pace
Was awaiting impatiently with a sour taste

Augmen arrived before the door
And knocked a strong sounding knock
Then it opened along the floor
And there stood, silent, twelve or more
Guests and friends watching the clock

A lady weaved throughout the crowd
As she waved at all the smoke
He recognized the friend Beth Crough
As she approached with a slight bow
Smiling, while angry, she spoke

“Your arrival pleases me not
I am certain you know this
Joke of it, and you will be caught
And leave that ego you have brought”
On her cheek, he laid a kiss

“Don’t worry my love, time is bold
I have all day, and all night
In my palm, all these guests I hold
For me, they would shake in the cold
Spark some candles – I need light

“No, hither by my side instead
Quick! (And to the crowd he turned)
Look here, what is it you all dread?
‘Tis in my heart and in my head
That today is grand and earned

“Yet all your faces paint concern
As if to say, ‘not today’
And here upon my quick return
You all seem ready to adjourn
Not everyday is this gay

“Let us rest ourselves and commence”
“You I loathe,” the father said
“Let me speak in my own defense,
For I have not made an offense.”
“You have your conceit instead.”

“Where is thy bride?” Augmen inquired,
“Why is it she’s not present?”
The father spoke again, “retired,
For she has lost what she admired.”
“But she can not be content?”

“I assure she is - don’t you mind,”
The father claimed abruptly
“Please, bring her forth to speak a word
I cannot bear what I have heard”
Father said, “not directly”

“Is this a joke? Some cruel demise?
Why is it you heath me so?
You’ve had your hand in this surmise
Was everyone here not apprised?
Oh, sadly I see who knows

“Then send word to my future wife –
If it is meant to be so –
That I love her with all my life
And bitter inside, I do strife
With this gift you do bestow”

And as his eyes began to swell
He traveled towards the door
Before the door, Beth wished him well
But waved it off en route to hell
The door closed along the floor

The woman who balanced his days
Was now gone without farewell
And what caused all this was his phase
And now life was again a haze
Just before the façade fell

A man quite young, but of sire status
Walked by the waters in dismay
His life he reminisced
As he noticed the trees around him sway
The pain he caused all his years
Was something he learned to weigh
But now he felt without a hope
As he had forgotten to portray
The man he truly wished to be
The one now by that local bay
He tripped upon his thoughts
And laid along the grass that day
Then he closed his eyes to forever pray

He never went to church
He never went to confession
He never helped the poor
He never sought redemption
And in his saddest moment
He felt a strong connection
He opened his eyes to the clouds above
And wished against his life of deception
He heard a call from far away
Just as he changed his life’s perception
The voice afar was his bride to be
The one who held all his affection
Was heading in his direction

Dragonsblade
Blue steel, unknown and never rules
the light abandoned, the surface cools
a tiny stream, a reddish glint
drips the weapon, the dragons gift

but the blood, the beads, force their path
sent to flow the watchers wrath
the hilt alone holds no blood
for blue-steel gauntlets cloaked the flood..
TO BE CONTINUED (ha)

all credit to lair2000

uh comments apprechiated, but everyone thinks im stupid and a noob, so please, just say what you want, i dont even care anymore

At 6/17/05 12:20 PM, Elfqueen wrote: uh comments apprechiated, but everyone thinks im stupid and a noob, so please, just say what you want, i dont even care anymore

Wasn't all that bad, it would be nice if you would finish it though.

I was wondering if I could join this club. I've seen some great work here, and I'd like to know what you guys think of my stuff.

I have to say, however, I don't visit newgrounds as much as I used to anymore, but since I have lots of spare time right now, I might as well give this a shot.

Also, since I'm Belgian, my poems are usually written in Dutch. I'll try my best to keep most metaphores when translating it to English, but I can't guarantee totally correct spelling/grammar.

i am tired
and yet i cannot rest
i am sad
and yet i cannot cry
i am disheartened
but not that much
to care? to need? to want? to love..
and yet i can`t tell why.

Sure you can join... Just try to post and make positive comments about other peoples poetry...

can i join The Peotry Club? i'm not great at peotry but i like to give it a shot from time to time:

soft lake shimmers in the breeze
small girl cold at the shore
see her shiver and sneeze
what is she here for?

a tear leaks down her fathers face
he's angry at the world
she left him without a trace
his only little girl