Poetry Thread

[Maine]

^^ Good stuff ^^


I've been working on some lore for my own of universe, so here is part of a kind of hymn thing, that I quite like:

Earthen we are
Arisen from sands
Our father with pride,
Our mother with dance
 
Your heart how it grows ,
Our gifts unto thee,
The colour; the music;
The life which you seek.

[anoni]

That sounds cool! Have you come up with more of the fictional race?

This is a poem describing mathematics

Scattered meanings, ambiguous code,
Laying the foundation of logic's abode,
Secrets embedded, let that be told,
covered in grey, hiding the gold.

Men see the scatter, focus on chaos,
See the divergence, believe it's mythos,
They see the dots and not the lines,
Not the curves or shaped divines.

But in these whispers holds such beauty,
From purposed null to small infinity,
To the fragile touches of chaotic functions,
To the amazement of Euclidean perfections.

And the further you go, the sillier it gets,
Until each new fact is one you cannot forget,
All ideas, thought to be obvious,
Shown to be elaborately marvelous.

The vector space of the universal system,
The fundamental axioms of absolute reason,
This is mathematics, and please believe this to be true,
That through the lectures is a new universe, waiting for you.

[Shiothefox]

O Saxony, we said goodbye to thee
On to Albion we go, with our Jutland bretheren

From Offa of Mercia
To Edgar Atheling

The greatest race of warrior souls
Ever to intoxicate the mead hall

andetnes to Ælfrǣd
From whom the norsemen suff'red thier fall

The men of Saxony and Anglia
Survive 'til wretched William

[Aros Dragneel]

I don't know much about poetry but I wanted to try it out. Sorry if its bad... 


As the days go by,
The dragon slumbers into a state of depression,
He wakes up from this slumber only to find the worst feelings,
The feelings of anger, sorrow, and fear.
He wonders if he will ever find his sole purpose in life,
It's the weeping people hear,
In the distance they leave.
Will he ever find his true love?
Only time can tell.

[MrRazot]

No such thing as bad poetry
And yours wasn't too bad

[anoni]

- Who is god? -

Who is god?
Is he the being that created us?
Through ultimate power, spawned life,
Beauty, love and all things glorious

And yet, created evil,
Allowed us to defy him so we could be punished,
Forbid his creations to do acts he created,
So that we could be judged, when we're finished.

Does that make sense? Who is god?
Is he the being that loves us?
That through all bad times and sorrows, is there?
Always watching with love, someone we can trust?

But catastrophe occurs!
Men die, women tortured and children succumb to illness,
How is love, when a Holocaust survivor writes
"god will have to beg for my forgiveness"

Who then is god?
Is he all powerful?
Is he all knowing?
Is he all present?

Why do prayers remains unanswered?
Why can hope remain so dim?
If god is always at my side,
Why do I never see him?

Who is god?

[MrRazot]

Some of us want to go to stars
Maybe soon we'll be going to Mars
But we squander on people who play guitars
Not that there's anything wrong with guitars
But it's the Lust for fame that I blame
What's the point of Progress
When it's all about the process of becoming a "star"
Even if that's not what they really are.
I digress...


Could the world not be brighter
If we all just looked a little higher
See that the key to fixing this place is in space!
But it's a bit mean how we're stuck in between
No time for scientific news on the TV screen
Aliens? Hah! why bother?
They can go back where they came from across the boarder...

[Grovygrunge]

What a world we live in,
Where a boy like I's mind can sicken,
Where a young boy can witness abuse,
and suddenly stop believing in things like a truce,
or peace for all.
He feels like he has no peace at all.
Not of mind or body.
He relates to nobody.
As he hides any emotion,
For he can find no notion
Which justifies revealing such weakness.
It's like a sickness.
Soon, this plate slate is who he is.
No joy or elation,
Only boredom.
And a select exception


Hatred,
For the man who left before he came to be.
Dejected,
For the next man left too.
Scarred,
By the abuse he witnessed.
Terrified,
That he was to one day become like them.
And so he raged and fought,
Against the very thought,
He was driven by that hatred,
He would not be like them!
He will succeed where they failed!
Own up to his mistakes!
Take responsibility when he should!
Because he is not like them!
I am not like them!




Sorry if this is a little long-winded and sub-par, but it's a vent for what I spent a good amount of my life like.

[Tim Siguire]

yay! He made a thread!
Anoni, poem catalyst
I used a Haiku.

[MrRazot]

Today I prombed a plate in plume
And snaped a spoon in slip
The forage will be done soon
And prepped in sight to nip

The order is in to go south
And so humpt the food will too go
Presempt the gramt and open mouth
Depending on the fimble who knows

The morsen mind makes tender jips
A knife steel gripples and falls
Beware to the poor man who slips
And misses the point of the calls

Service is nigh on high time where
Garnish the gripes and tarter the hair

Don't forget the mustard