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Your own poems; if you write

alphieb

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alphamale said:
Your poems are so cute, I could give you a big hug! :2razz:

Thank you,

Those were very spontaneous. I could do better with more time. I simply sat down and made them up, but I appreciate your compliment.
 

alphieb

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alphamale said:
A cockroach

Scuttles near

The lucid prose

His feelers twitter a moment

Nothing computes

In the nerve bundle

That is his "brain"

He scuttles off

To the dark area

Whence wafts

The putrescence

That is his life.

And your poems are brilliant.........
 

alphamale

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Flowers

The breeze touches the flowers in a crystal vase

My gaze touches Veronica

The flowers are nothing
 

alphamale

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The greatest poem of all time:

Would You Be My Neighbor?
by Fred Rogers

It's a beautiful day in this neighborhood,
A beautiful day for a neighbor.
Would you be mine?
Could you be mine?...

It's a neighborly day in this beauty wood,
A neighborly day for a beauty.
Would you be mine?
Could you be mine?...

I've always wanted to have a neighbor just like you.
I've always wanted to live in a neighborhood with you.

So, let's make the most of this beautiful day.
Since we're together we might as well say:
Would you be mine?
Could you be mine?
Won't you be my neighbor?
Won't you please,
Won't you please?
Please won't you be my neighbor?
 

scipian

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This is just a stupid thing I wrote in 5 minutes in Gmail chat. I kinda like it though and I might revise it some.

Watching eyes, whispering tongues, wavering minds. All dreading the thought. Flu, famine, pestilence, war. What may come? Anything, everything. No one knows. Each man dies a thousand deaths. Yet still worries more. Never ending, never ceasing. Always waiting for the big one. That is the nature of us all. Dying over and over when only one death will suffice.
 

tecoyah

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I have tasted sweet wine
Milk from the breast of my lover
Dopamine thrust of success
Lips are licked for these
I have sucked in Bitterness
Failures rancid flavour
Bile coated pill of dead Ego
Salted blood on my tongue
This Cuisine of lifes lessons
spiced as it is
never tasting as expected by desires
Gives me the sustenance my soul requires
 

tecoyah

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Bringer of sorrow, my title changed
Not the lover of old
No longer banked coals
Bringer of sorrow head bent low
Failed inspration, it seems I bring
Poisoned nails of demon
Pain bleeds from my fingertips
Failed inspiration is all I know
Moving the puppet, no skill it would seem
Tangled threads confuse me
Tortured soul my doing
Moving this puppet from nightmare to dream
Cold sweat awakening into a scream

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

There is no broken time, no history for me
Loss coming from cracks in my soul
These are the memories that make a past
Fading with lack of use
There is no heart making love to me
Pumping heated blood into my life
No saving grace smiling her blessing
She has better things to do
Undamaged minds to wander
Unbroken but never whole, these perfect surface lives
Unshaken by grief, and living through their lies
 

niftydrifty

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I am dreamily chasing L.P.
through a mangled forest tall
trees shading sun
dark displacing bright -
and on occasion I catch a glimpse
of his flowing silver shawl and
careless backward glance
on this ancestral day
as we nearly evade
many slalom trunks
and mossy shrubs.

And in this slender scene
a dark woody bit
grows from ahead
as he has thrown
his legerdemain at trailing me.

I stop to peruse
the now still projectile -
it is merely a walnut
of grooved ridges and Y's
and my by-chance name
and haphazard head
within the surface psychology,
rocking tipped to slip
quick and still aslant
on the worn woolen trail.
 

tecoyah

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That really is a wicked cool poem....excellent
 

tecoyah

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Damn Galen....who'da thunk it.


Really cool style, not the ordinary by any stretch, I rather like it.

Lyrical
 

tecoyah

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The Wait


patience...idle thoughts take hold
do hours go by,or do i sleep
feel the worry grow as day flows by
and still...i am still...time is still
how long do i wait
will i know when i need to move
can i move when i need to learn
a mind thinks of patience as a body thinks of pain
a virtue i wish not to use


Red

interrupted from closed eyed stupor
that hated glow, smoldering
a retinal ember behind my consciousness
the heat of waking muscles, damn blinds
letting in the fractal beams
tearing fabric lost in dreams
grasping at these ruined thoughts
a ray of sun to stop the screams
illuminate the missing themes
away these pieces best forgot
another interrupted night


Older stuff....but still fun
 

Billo_Really

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In the garden of Eden
as everyone knows
lived Adam and Eve
without any clothes

and in this garden
lived two little leaves
one covered Adam
and one covered Eve's

as the story goes on
needless to say
along came a wind
and blew them away

at this wonderful site
Adam did stare
for there was Eve's treasure
covered in hair

and at this sight
before Eve's eyes
Adam's thing
did start to rise

the night was young
with a full moon above
so it is said
the first night of love

but suddenly
to Eve's surprise
she found Adam
between her thighs

the head of Adam's thing
touched her hole
driving her to passion
beyond control

Eve helped Adam
all through the night
while Adam pushed
with all his might

Eve's joy was so great
she wouldn't let loose
until Adam's thing
was drained of it's juice

now down through the years
people all screw
so now it is time
for me and you

so let down your pants
and lay back in the grass
'cause I'm in the mood
for a good piece of a.s.s!
 

tecoyah

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My Kids were chasing Dust in the Sunlight

Pixie Dust

Shudders, of Fading colors are used to sift the sunlight
making rooms warmed by floating dustspecks
every move we make spreading air that hold them aloft
these visual fairies that play on unseen breath
Imagine as I do some rest for tired wings
as my toys of mind float out of sunlights beam
lost to the world I made in this moment
Pixie dust for the child I get to be...wish I could be
 

McTojo

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Japanese Right-Wing poetry

http://www.town.chiran.kagoshima.jp//contents/img/200501181342581.jpg

As the breast milk flows from mother Nippon's nipples. I can feel the warmness FEEL down my throat as if the warmness is another living organism in itself feeling me as I feel it. I'm being drunk. I have realized that suddenly I've become a Kamikaze pilot and that I have been called to duty. I must fly into the night sky tearing through the darkness at the speed of light on the high that I can fly into an aircraft carrier while laden down with 500 pounds of jet fuel. I can smell the fumes as I ease off the throttle slowly starting my descent, the clouds part open like the white legs of the Akita Bijin and behold my target awaits me, I see it, I see it, now, all I have to do is breath deeply, looking at the Hinomaru imprinted panties on the instrument panel. It all makes sense now !
 
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