-It's not a poem and I didn't write it, lol. The original writer just wants opinions and a rating of 1-10 on it. She and her friend wrote this. I think it's pretty creative with a good choice of word play that somewhat makes alittle sense and they didn't give it a title.
(I personally give it a 7.) as I told her she should share, so she now wants it to be rated. lol.
The skies are pale blue, the grass flows free.
The wind blows soft and the mermaids roam the sea.
Such a fantasy, such a fake.
But if you imagine, it's yours to take.
Dream up a world, one you can control.
Don't get carried away, try to keep hold.
In your mind, you let your brush paint a picture, slow, there's no rush.
In your world, time stands still.
More then enough so your picture can fulfil.
Your train of thoughts will never end, more and more of the pretend.
You use it all to the max, going down different tracks.
You go one way, then you travel another.
It's so hard to choose when you're the creator.
Paint the past, paint the present, create your future, it's all in your hands.I Give it a 1. It's corny and poorly written.
To the good Its not a OMG My BF/GF is wonderful/ terrible type poem that is so typical of this site. It is
a thoughtful and somewhat entertaining piece.
Now to the Negative Control/hold does not really work
The following line while it has good interior rhyme can't be broken into two lines anywhere and as a result just stands out
You need a line break between end and more
another and creator don't rhyme at all and the last line rhymes with nothing.
Tell her to keep trying
When I started some of my work was awful ie. instead of saying I smile in one early poem I put
a smile comes upon my face. yeech.
Rating 5
-
2011年8月4日星期四
Do you know who wrote this poem? I kind of like it.?
-The mystery of your perfume
Its gentle tendrils touch my brain
There can remain
No remnant of my former gloom
My candle in the night
You chase the shadows, leaving me in light.
Redeemed, I see your radiant face
My goddess from beyond the veil
And my words fail;
You lift me to a better place.
And yet my heart is numb
My love, because you said you could not come.
I see you in the golden shafts
That warm a lazy afternoon
And know that soon
The somber hues of other crafts
Will be put on display,
And what was flecked with gold will go to gray.
The grave is cold, and youth must bend,
The weight of life too much to bear.
O鈥?hand of care
Dressed in a sleeve no one can mend,
You give to take away.
'Tis cruelty to love what cannot stay.Well, it is what is known as a madrigal, and they have been written in many ages, and they can take several distinct forms. I have written in this form, but it is not mine. Not much help, I'm afraid... Escobar, perhaps you wrote it and are testing the poets. It's a nice poem, if that is the case.Well it's not very good at any rate. Don't search too hard for the "author" -- quotes intentional.
Its gentle tendrils touch my brain
There can remain
No remnant of my former gloom
My candle in the night
You chase the shadows, leaving me in light.
Redeemed, I see your radiant face
My goddess from beyond the veil
And my words fail;
You lift me to a better place.
And yet my heart is numb
My love, because you said you could not come.
I see you in the golden shafts
That warm a lazy afternoon
And know that soon
The somber hues of other crafts
Will be put on display,
And what was flecked with gold will go to gray.
The grave is cold, and youth must bend,
The weight of life too much to bear.
O鈥?hand of care
Dressed in a sleeve no one can mend,
You give to take away.
'Tis cruelty to love what cannot stay.Well, it is what is known as a madrigal, and they have been written in many ages, and they can take several distinct forms. I have written in this form, but it is not mine. Not much help, I'm afraid... Escobar, perhaps you wrote it and are testing the poets. It's a nice poem, if that is the case.Well it's not very good at any rate. Don't search too hard for the "author" -- quotes intentional.
Is this peom good?????
-I was tieing your shoe , when all of a sudden you turned blue , when you fell to the ground , i screamed but there was no sound ,and now when i speak i sound like a freak , because that day when i tied your shoe , you died at the age of twoThe first time I read it I didn't get it.
Now I do and I'm depressed. Jesus. Not really good in a technical sense, but it got an emotion out of me so...well done? I hope to God this isn't a true story.
Advice: Chagce second or third line. You start both with "when", which isn't good.
natural talent
its okay check spelling-i think that tying is spelled incorrectly.
its okay but try my country poem named "pantun" or old poem
if you can make only 1 then you a genius
Now I do and I'm depressed. Jesus. Not really good in a technical sense, but it got an emotion out of me so...well done? I hope to God this isn't a true story.
Advice: Chagce second or third line. You start both with "when", which isn't good.
natural talent
its okay check spelling-i think that tying is spelled incorrectly.
its okay but try my country poem named "pantun" or old poem
if you can make only 1 then you a genius
What do you think of this wistful poem by Cafavy?
-Constantine P. Cafavy, modern Greek poet. Words so simple but they capture moods perfectly.
Since Nine O'Clock
Half past twelve. Time's gone by quickly
since nine o'clock when I lit the lamp
and sat down here. I've been sitting without reading,
without speaking. Completely alone in the house,
who could I talk to?
Since nine o'clock when I lit the lamp
the shade of my young body
has been haunting me, reminding me
of shut scented rooms,
of past passion - what daring passion.
And it's also brought back to me
streets now unrecognizable,
bustling night clubs now closed,
theatres and cafes no longer there.
The shade of my young body
also brought back the things that make us sad:
family grief, separations,
the feelings of my own people,
of the dead so little recognized.
Half past twelve: how the time has gone by.
Half past twelve: how the years have gone by.
Constantine P. CavafyI will have to read more .
Since Nine O'Clock
Half past twelve. Time's gone by quickly
since nine o'clock when I lit the lamp
and sat down here. I've been sitting without reading,
without speaking. Completely alone in the house,
who could I talk to?
Since nine o'clock when I lit the lamp
the shade of my young body
has been haunting me, reminding me
of shut scented rooms,
of past passion - what daring passion.
And it's also brought back to me
streets now unrecognizable,
bustling night clubs now closed,
theatres and cafes no longer there.
The shade of my young body
also brought back the things that make us sad:
family grief, separations,
the feelings of my own people,
of the dead so little recognized.
Half past twelve: how the time has gone by.
Half past twelve: how the years have gone by.
Constantine P. CavafyI will have to read more .
Poem about Domestic Abuse - What do you think?
-Hey
So it's not finished yet and it's not that good
But what's your opinion anyways? :)
Once a day and once a night,
The man who shares his blight in spite,
Fight,
You play a knight,
Deceiving to the innocent's sight,
My death warrant you write it,
Sign it and seal it,
Reveal it,
Your heart made of Ironite,
You're my ******* kryptonite,
Bleed it,
Breathe it,
Your tongue; you've never bitten it,
My day; you never brighten it,
You made your bed so sleep in it,
The boat you keel it,
Free it,
Free your hatred somewhere else,
Who can love the man who kills?
Even when the heat does still,
My heart no longer fills,
There is no love and only hate,
You chose your fate,
You chose your fate,
Paranoid,
Stupid boy,
Just 'cause she's the perfect puppet toy,
Daddy's girl,
You make my toes curl,
That rock you hurl,
**** you, girl
But still,
My heart it doesn't fill,
I only ever want to kill,
Blood,
I feel it bead in tiny buds,
Blood,
Blood,
I want the floor to flood,
Sad,
Bad,
You're the one who's mad,
You're not my Dad,
You're undeserving,
You say she's starving,
The presence of you; it's so unnerving,
Biased,
Liars,
Only after your own desires,
Pliers,
Your hands chopped off with the rusty pliers,
Wires,
Electrocuted when hands touch wires,
I want you dead,
Daddy's girl to find you in your bed,
Not even breathing,
Just please be leaving,
You're evil,
Just plain deceitful,
She gave me a mouthful,
A fistful,
Your existence makes it risk-full,
All yours words are bull,
I always feel like a fool,
Hopeful,
Never hopeful,
Until you die,
I won't be hopeful,
In the end though,
It wasn't enough,
Even after I burned all of your stuff,
My stomach churned,
Into you; everything turned,
I hope you burn; I hope you rot,
After all of the hatred you showed and taught,
I scream a lot,
There is no one to tame these thoughts,
My worst nightmare,
Created to scare,
Tear,
Tear me apart,
And I stare,
Into your darkened lair,
I don't want to become you,
If I do; that day I'll rueI think you should get this published, it's amazing! :DI think is good. : )
So it's not finished yet and it's not that good
But what's your opinion anyways? :)
Once a day and once a night,
The man who shares his blight in spite,
Fight,
You play a knight,
Deceiving to the innocent's sight,
My death warrant you write it,
Sign it and seal it,
Reveal it,
Your heart made of Ironite,
You're my ******* kryptonite,
Bleed it,
Breathe it,
Your tongue; you've never bitten it,
My day; you never brighten it,
You made your bed so sleep in it,
The boat you keel it,
Free it,
Free your hatred somewhere else,
Who can love the man who kills?
Even when the heat does still,
My heart no longer fills,
There is no love and only hate,
You chose your fate,
You chose your fate,
Paranoid,
Stupid boy,
Just 'cause she's the perfect puppet toy,
Daddy's girl,
You make my toes curl,
That rock you hurl,
**** you, girl
But still,
My heart it doesn't fill,
I only ever want to kill,
Blood,
I feel it bead in tiny buds,
Blood,
Blood,
I want the floor to flood,
Sad,
Bad,
You're the one who's mad,
You're not my Dad,
You're undeserving,
You say she's starving,
The presence of you; it's so unnerving,
Biased,
Liars,
Only after your own desires,
Pliers,
Your hands chopped off with the rusty pliers,
Wires,
Electrocuted when hands touch wires,
I want you dead,
Daddy's girl to find you in your bed,
Not even breathing,
Just please be leaving,
You're evil,
Just plain deceitful,
She gave me a mouthful,
A fistful,
Your existence makes it risk-full,
All yours words are bull,
I always feel like a fool,
Hopeful,
Never hopeful,
Until you die,
I won't be hopeful,
In the end though,
It wasn't enough,
Even after I burned all of your stuff,
My stomach churned,
Into you; everything turned,
I hope you burn; I hope you rot,
After all of the hatred you showed and taught,
I scream a lot,
There is no one to tame these thoughts,
My worst nightmare,
Created to scare,
Tear,
Tear me apart,
And I stare,
Into your darkened lair,
I don't want to become you,
If I do; that day I'll rueI think you should get this published, it's amazing! :DI think is good. : )
Anyone know E.E. Cummings?
-1. What is a whereling and a wheneling? Is it a desirable thing to be?
2. What is the alternative to being "daughters of ifbut offspring of hopefear?
3. What does this poem have to do with time and timeless? What are some details?
4. Why are the whycoloured worlds of because? Who inhabits them?
2. What is the alternative to being "daughters of ifbut offspring of hopefear?
3. What does this poem have to do with time and timeless? What are some details?
4. Why are the whycoloured worlds of because? Who inhabits them?
Could someone interpret this? I do not know what the author means?
-I am about to break a commandment. Or maybe not..either way I'm sure God would not be pleased with what I am about to write.
God, The Supreme Being, Him, Mr. Alpha and Omega made one mistake that will forever haunt the human species until the day we are finally wept out and replaced by another species (My money is on a type of fish..). God's biggest mistake was that he made beautiful people. Where are these beautiful people? They are everywhere. They are your everyday run of the mill people. They go about their day..unaware of the conflict they bring the world. They are the ones who look at you weirdly when you look at them weirdly. They are the people that people want to know. They are the people no one actually knows.
These people ironically live life as if they were ugly and are therefore unaware of how beautiful they really are. Looking at these people I am left with one question " Who are they and why are they looking at me weirdly?"
______________________________________鈥?br>
It really makes no sense to me.
God, The Supreme Being, Him, Mr. Alpha and Omega made one mistake that will forever haunt the human species until the day we are finally wept out and replaced by another species (My money is on a type of fish..). God's biggest mistake was that he made beautiful people. Where are these beautiful people? They are everywhere. They are your everyday run of the mill people. They go about their day..unaware of the conflict they bring the world. They are the ones who look at you weirdly when you look at them weirdly. They are the people that people want to know. They are the people no one actually knows.
These people ironically live life as if they were ugly and are therefore unaware of how beautiful they really are. Looking at these people I am left with one question " Who are they and why are they looking at me weirdly?"
______________________________________鈥?br>
It really makes no sense to me.
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