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Official Poetry Critique Topic- Now Public to anyone!

B Link

Smash Lord
Joined
Sep 26, 2007
Messages
1,579
Location
Toronto, Ontario
Something that I think some people can relate to: I'm procrastinating on my essay by surfing the web and felt like writing a poem about it.

Title: Unfocused

I read and cease to think,
Impulse and control are out of sync,
Clicking quickly on this link,
A glass of thoughts I am forced to drink

But these thoughts are alcoholic,
Intoxicating and melancholic
Sometimes here I dance and frolic
Ignorance is metabolic

Take your time and quench my thirst
Fill me up until I burst
Then when all the liquid flurries
My mind's eye will cease being blurry
 

Jim Morrison

Smash Authority
Joined
Aug 28, 2008
Messages
15,287
Location
The Netherlands
Interesting poem, good to understand!

Nice use of form, only thing I didn't quite understand was "Ignorance is metabolic", could you explain it a bit?
 

B Link

Smash Lord
Joined
Sep 26, 2007
Messages
1,579
Location
Toronto, Ontario
The entire second stanza is supposed to illustrate how reading too much on the internet is poisonous. Sometimes I'll be happy ("dance and frolic") on the internet but I have a tendency to make the same mistake of procrastinating on the internet over and over again - I haven't realized that my ignorance has merely taken a different form than the times I've procrastinated before ("ignorance is metabolic").
 

DerpDaBerp

Smash Champion
Joined
Oct 26, 2008
Messages
2,589
Location
AZ
Blank Page Blues

No light, no spark, no heat here yet
Stroll on by and help me forget
That I got nothin worth writing, and nothin to say
So show up, show off and be on your way
Cuz I got nothin worth sayin if I ain't got pain
But I'd be glad to keep the page blank, if you intend on stay'n
 

Aerovistae

Smash Cadet
Joined
Feb 10, 2012
Messages
49
If you gave to man a puzzle
Ten thousand times,
The pieces cut in the same sad lines--
But the image changed, to mire his mind:
Would he see the deceit?
Or remain confined?
 

Hack

Smash Journeyman
Joined
Oct 15, 2006
Messages
337
Location
Uppsala, Sweden
Alright, being a slam poet, I thought I might as well share some of my work here.
This is my first ever slam poem, called "10 days 'til Christmas Eve":

_______________________________

That is IT. I am ready to leave.
10 days ‘til Christmas Eve, they say,
but I don’t feel it. Not today,
tomorrow or any day that’s shaped out of fallen leaves,
broken hopes and dreams and materialistic clay.

10 days, the darkest hour’s drawing near, and the
shadow of death, untimely perched upon the valves of the skies’ gray,
injects its fear into the minds of the morose,
binds them to decay.

My great grandmother has passed away.

She was 2 years short of a century, 2 eyes short of sight
and the shortest person in my family, aside from
those born in the new millennium’s light.
Despite this, she will not once be remembered for her shortcomings,
but for presence – though not prudence
– she was whole-heartedly crude,
but beautifully honest in a way that would make you laugh or cry,
raise your fist and shout.

But this is not what the poem is about.

Christmas is at hand! The pavements simmer with people,
Christmas-lists in hand, coloured lights glisten and glow
in every market stand.
“It’s almost time when the time is here”,
so no need to fear anymore, for this is a time of LOVE,
sincere happiness… opening doors and measuring wallets.
Pull out your glove and slap that *****,
who pushed her way through in the line at the local Toys’R’us store.

That last Furbee had your ****ING NAME ON IT!!!

Real friends are not for sale, of course.
Real friends are those who stay true,
even on your blue days, and who actually show some remorse,
respect, or at least let you know and don’t make you wait
when they double-book you on your sushi-date
for some guy with a fake, clever look and heaps of dollar bills.
Friends, unlike diamonds, aren’t forever – they leave at will.

“We are gathered here today to celebrate the birth of our Lord – the almighty Dollar.”

After the Second Shortcoming and several market crashes,
he watches Santa Claus squeeze his fat torso down the chimney
to my great grandmothers funeral, landing in her ashes.
With an awkward pause, he announces Black Friday to the masses
and cleans his sleeves of her remains, ready to leave. The whip lashes
upon the lean reindeers’ backs, and as if nothing happened, the almighty is back on track.
Happy death-day, Jesus Cash.

He taunts us where he stands, at the very peak:
a man – no – an apparition in the snow
above the building roofs on Wall Street.
His hands and feet bear no trace of sacrifice
as he widens his view of our demise;
the streets simmer with people – Christmas-lists in hand – as he stares,
and wise Mother Mary could be ****ting gold in Bethlehem’s cradle for all he cares.
She is growing old, and he gets younger by the passing minute’s fuss.
Time is money, and he runs the clock on all of us.

Now ask me, thus:
Why does the word “****” pop into my head
so bluntly, as my best friend turns on the bed,
showing off her newly bought underwear and asking me
– as if I care – if I think her boyfriend will like them?

I guess love works in mysterious ways.
Or wait, maybe I’m to blame? Or maybe it is YOU?
One of these days, the buildings will crack and fall,
the stacked-up Christmas-presents burn – so burn them all
– and Santa gets stuck in the chimney with cardiac arrest.
His swollen corpse shall be laid to rest, his coffin wrapped in red strings,
and maggots eat and crap on his woollen chest as the angels sing.
Then maybe, maybe – MAYBE – people will look back and see,
that this poem is NOT about today,
and that 10 days can easily be replaced.
When faced with the truth about yourself,
will you move on, or will you stay in place?

That is IT. I’ve HAD it! I am ready to leave.
10 days ‘til Christmas Eve, they say, but I don’t feel it. Not today,
not tomorrow or any other day.
 

Sables

Smash Rookie
Joined
Aug 16, 2012
Messages
9
Wow some really good poems. I'm terrible at trying to come up with them myself lol
 

DjShilly

Smash Rookie
Joined
Aug 24, 2012
Messages
1
Alright, being a slam poet, I thought I might as well share some of my work here.
This is my first ever slam poem, called "10 days 'til Christmas Eve":


Hah, I'm a slam poet too. Small world, huh?
I'll give this critiques as soon as I can :)
 

Shiny Mewtwo aka Jigglysir

PhD; Smash Community Studies
Premium
Joined
Feb 1, 2012
Messages
3,263
Location
Ontario, Canada
3DS FC
2191-7691-7941
Could I get a critique on the poem I just wrote?

It's called "The Future"


The future is a very strange thing.
We have no way of knowing what will occur.
Many people have wondered what the future will bring,
But, ultimately we cannot be sure.

Will cloning be perfected?
Will we discover immortality?
Shall the monuments that we have erected
Be destroyed with great brutality?

Will all our scientific work,
Be dismissed with a laugh, or a smirk,
Will our greatest and most revered minds
Be described with words most unkind?

Will our era be remembered as
One that history rejoices,
Or as an era that was
Marked only by bad choices.

These are things we cannot know.
Though, as our civilization grows
We can hope that maybe on a far off date
We will be remembered as great.
 

DerpDaBerp

Smash Champion
Joined
Oct 26, 2008
Messages
2,589
Location
AZ
your last stanza is AABB when all the rest are ABAB

It rhymes, and that's fun, but you're making rhymes the hinge on which you can call your piece poetry because you have no figurative language or general abstraction or really anything besides a basic rhythm to hold my attention.
I need some meat and potatoes with this garnish
 

DerpDaBerp

Smash Champion
Joined
Oct 26, 2008
Messages
2,589
Location
AZ
Ramble #2

one
day
I'm told
the day
will be mine
and a
day
of my own
I'll sit and
I'll look
and it
will be good
because
it will
be
mine
I'm told
one day
I think
I'll look over
at
the sky and
wonder
why the
stars
move like they
do and
why
they
move me to
a smile or
tears and
I'll wonder
why I
cry when I
laugh and
not
vice versa
I think
one day
I'm sure
I'll not sit or
stand but
I'll
make my
day not just
mine
we will be
one and
the
night will
be
longer and
we will
lay and we
will lay by
the water and
wonder why
there is some-
thing rather
than
nothing
at
all
 

Tacket

The Innovator
Joined
Nov 30, 2011
Messages
1,631
Location
Rancho Cucamonga, California
Ballad of One (Origanal Piece by Tacket)

A girl who wants to travel
It's her dream, she'll die to do it
But maybe she'd change her mind*
If she really went through it

It is the pain
The pain belongs to me
Drifting coast to coast
People fiend over me

Away I go
I go with the wind
Oh god why
Why am I not a 10

A 5, 20, 50, or 100 would be swell
Really swell
But here I am
A goddamn one dollar bill

If I were a 5 I'd be enjoying a life at subway
Watching fat people people but footlongs all day
Even when I'd move I'd still have some worth*
Unlike me now

If I were a 10, I would be ecstatic
Maybe I could be spent on something cool
Maybe
Unlike me now

If I were 20, I'd be a Jackson*
Jackson at a casino
Gettin some action*
Unlike me now

If I were a 50
I'd be a top dog
But no one would remember my face, who cares though
Unlike me now

Ah, a 100
The elite of elite
Hip hop videos, strip clubs, yacht trips, cuisine
Unlike me...you get it

I am one, the loneliest number
Drifting in pockets of kids in the summer
Penny of the papers*
I am worthless

Why doesn't my face bear a smile
Because what I have to go through
Pass me on, pass me quick
I am obdurate to change my views*

HAHA, NEVERMIND
I'M A BILL I FEEL FINE
I HAVE WORTH
I CAN BUY YOU CANDY

look at that 100
he thinks he's cool
**** all the bills with higher value than me
and i'm just a little frustrated, not angry

HEY! *Maybe if I pray I can wake up one day
And be a Lincoln, or a Jackson, Maybe A Benjamin
God please help me...save me
Let us pray...

Who am I kidding
I'm worthless
Screw this life
Someone discard me, put an end to me, grant me eternal sleep, throw me in the furnace

Hey, maybe it's not so bad
At least I'm not a penny
I may be just a dollar
But hey, I've got some spirit

The life of a one
Ain't that bad
Ya just gotta learn to accept it
Love yourself, and who you are, people
 

Proskater

Smash Apprentice
Joined
Jan 7, 2011
Messages
127
Critique please -

"Rap"

It needs a catalyst among these savages.
They are ravaging my passion with no imaginative ability.
It's killin me...
You feelin me?

A homogeneous mixture
of mysogynist fixture
and bottomless greed
Rap's been chronically bleeding.
In desperate need of bandages in the form of
metaphors, love, and a better understanding of the powers above.
 

Snuc

Smash Apprentice
Joined
Mar 21, 2011
Messages
79
Location
Omaha, NE
My Country Tis’ of Thee
Sweet serene solidarity,
it serenades the soul.
But gates to hell don’t shut
in the mind of a maniac.
One or two,
like flowers in the dirt,
a Columbine, seasonal.
Around only when skies are blue
and sun shines, deceit.
Like rain with no clouds,
unexpected and unwanted,
securely unsafe, and unseen.
Cannot be undone.
Scared.
A Millard South mindset.
A monochrome T-Shirt
in Von Maur.
A look in the eyes that says:
“I don’t care.”
“I’ve lost it.”
Like a Sandy Hook
stuck in the abdomen of
a once great nation.
Controversial laws are proof
that where we live now
makes the 1930’s mafia
look like Project Peace.
Batman left his suit at home,
he’s not visiting Aurora tonight.
Go to Virginia Tech.
Learn something new.
Read it in the news,
and take no action.
Just remember that a life lost
is another hindered.
Like the twitch of a spider’s web.
It spreads.
Attracts the others.
A psychotic rampage
that blows the mind.
Blows it onto the walls.
It locks us in a phone booth,
and forces us to dial 9-1-1
On September 11.
Like the 16th president’s Booth,
a John Wilkes world.
The image of Harvey Oswald.
A Luciferous lot of jargon, it
spreads across social media
like patting the dirt on the grave.
Our country tis’ of thee,
We are too blind to see.
When twins fall like towers
in a kindergarten class,
and blood pools in the legs
of lifeless innocence,
human rights don’t matter.
Land of the free,
and home of the insane.
Like a statue to the damned,
they become household names.
Frothing at the mouth,
the rabid dogs of media eat
it up like a wounded bird.
Mend a wing and soar
through flaming forests.
The grief falls over victims’
crying families.
Like termites in the woodwork
we feed on their sadness.
Say we’re sympathetic
and change the channel
to see how the Kardashians
are spending their inheritance.
The 4th of July comes every year,
365 days of it, like a pyrohypnotic flare
singeing the pupils of the fed up.
All the while, the hollowness of it
cackles inches from our nostrils.

God Bless the USA.
 

Hack

Smash Journeyman
Joined
Oct 15, 2006
Messages
337
Location
Uppsala, Sweden
Mimi-Cry (Miss U)

I miss U
like S mrs U in "us"

I ms U-2-night, Bonafide
I ms U2-nights, Bono-fine
I ms U 2 much
C, U ms D .

D . is:

I could write a ms U-S-A
if thats what it takes 2 U-nite
U-N-I 2-night

I'll even write a U-N-I-verse
2 star D sky 4 U-N-I 2-night

<3

It's basically a tribute poem to a good friend and fellow poet. A little tricky in its turns and wordplay, but try to pronounce it as you read - it will make everything easier :)
 

S7GF

Smash Journeyman
Joined
Jul 19, 2013
Messages
223
Location
West St. Paul, MN
Here's a poem. I tried to go with a more rustic, archaic style. Suspension of disbelief may be necessary, or it might not be - your call. I've drawn together many story elements into this one poem, so it may be a little messy though I like the overall tone. I've made some assumptions and made some connections. Let me know what you guys think.



Reap and Sow


While one night I dreamed in Sleep’s solace care,
I dreamt of a quest meeting Sleep’s brother.
I was lead to a rift of sulfur and smoke;
Sleep’s brother was there and to me he spoke:

“The Abyss of Sin, of Hades, true Hate,
Will swallow you whole if it is your fate…
But this I can change, if it be your will –
I can change your path and make your soul still.”

He told me of life – loving, eternal -
On the green Earth with solace, so peaceful,
Of things that were and of things will soon be,
And of the present, so omnisciently.

“Who are you that you know of things to come,
Of things that have been or things being done?”
And he looked at me with red, glaring eyes
And answered me quickly as if surprised:

“Have you not heard of my power, my name?
I am Death, the Reaper, one in the same.
I harvest men’s souls and guard their spirits
From Hades, the Dragon, of hate and sin.”

“He wishes to torment and haunt poor souls,
To bring all those down to the land he knows.
But I’m here to help; I’m here, yes, for you.
I’ll guard your sweet soul; this be not a ruse.”

And I thought and wondered of all that is,
All what I’d heard and all what I’d missed.
And I was suspicious of this gesture
But knew not what I could ask or offer.

“What’s in it for me, this odd deal of yours?
What have I to gain, when my spirit’s yours?
What will you do when it’s yours and not mine?
Will I be lost, condemned, destroyed due to Time?”

At this question he averted his eyes,
Looked off in the distance through land and skies.
“I cannot tell you concerning these things;
Would you rather be stuck in those Nine Rings?”

And at this I knew I spoke not to Death,
But Hades himself, beast of fire breath.
The knowledge of Nine, those fiery rings,
Was known to so few, men greater than kings.

And I knew, on account of the poet,
Who’d been there himself and also toured it –
Virgil, the great, and Dante, and Christ
And also Satan of eternal strife.

Death could not know, for he was not allowed
Past the river Styx, on Charon’s ship bow.
He was cursed long ago to walk the lands
Of mountains, fields, ice, and sands.

I knew the truth, and ‘twas seen in my eyes.
And Satan, Hades, threw off his disguise.
“Well wrought, and well thought, you silly, weak man,
But not even you can disrupt my plans.”

Sprouting wings he flew back into the rift,
The pit of fire, sulfur, that deep Abyss,
To scheme and to plot with terrible thoughts
Of reaping and sowing the souls of those lost.

And I awoke from my dream, thoughts a-stirred,
Free from Sleep’s grasp, and sweet evil unheard,
And slipped back into unconscious slumber,
With dream remembered but mind uncumbered…
 

Wrecksasaurus

Smash Rookie
Joined
Oct 22, 2013
Messages
1
i am a new user on smashboards and i write poems. I have read some one here and have seen the critques given. It seems that rhyming is looed poorly upon which is basically in almost all the poems that i write. Also most of these are sad depressing poems. I thought it would be fun to post as my first poem on here that i wrote this morning for it to be almost free verse but still some rhyming involved and something hilarious please dont delete it because i want to see how you actually feel about this poem. it makes me laugh jkust thining about. Enjoy.

P.S. i was also dared to do this.

When Nature Calls

When nature calls
We always go running
there's always discomfort
but then comes relief

When nature calls
it's not always a good thing
It always makes a mess
It can never be controlled

With nature sometimes comes disaster
But we are usually prepared
For whatever it leaves behind I
f we have the right tools,
It can be cleaned faster

When nature calls
The pants always falls
It always leaves a mess
But when we stand, it leaves less

We can never beat it
But depending on what we ate
We might lose some weight
Now we all look more fit

When nature calls
I can never seem to find any stalls
I am left standing there
The pain I cannot bare

Finally, an open one I see
I let everything go
What a great feeling
If only I knew that I was squealing
I cannot help myself
The relief I got
I just had to share
As I looked up, I saw someone glare

I had left the door open
In my excitement to relieve myself
When I let everything go
A guy walked in.
And I didn't know
This just goes to show
Crazy things happen
When nature calls

    • Conversation started August
 

XTheElegantShadowX

Smash Journeyman
Joined
Oct 9, 2013
Messages
265
Location
Asgard
3DS FC
3625-7979-8675
(I... neglected to read the first post of this Thread that explains that one must wait for the previous poem to be critiqued before posting anything after it. Please just ignore this until the above post has been critiqued. My apologies.)

Oh my! There's a poetry Thread? =D

Well, allow me to share a bit of my work:

My Angel, by TheElegantShadow (Me.)

"Oh, night shrouded angel
Cloaked in garb of black
With bones so fair and gaunt
And wings that glow dark atop your back
You are the Shepard with the bladed crook
Herding your sheep with its fine hook
And guiding them beyond the veil
To their resting place
Be it heaven or hell

Oh, hallowed skeleton with eyes so stark
You who embrace us in the light
And hold our hands in the dark
With a smile that bides and shines through the lies
You are he who holds the strings that binds us to our ties

Oh, lovely Reaper
So still and pale
With hands so cold
And body so frail
You are the elder that turns the wheel of time
And holds the caduceus, forever entwined

You are my angel sent to me

That fills me with vigor, joy, and glee

Holding my hand and standing by

Readying my soul

For its final goodbye."

Well, what do you all think?
 

Element of Smash

Scrub Lord
Joined
Jul 3, 2013
Messages
544
Location
Dallas, TX
Brightsiders

A pale pony's shaking feature perched upon the pulse
Sheild the million flying knives raining from the midnight gulls
Driving holy harbor shelter from the Rider's icy clutch
Starting from the handicap and ending at the public crux
Seething at the seemingly twisted and polluted image
The seventeenth unholy even numbered evil edict
Transend the condition of which were all afflicted
I knew from an early age I was uniquely different
How heavy was the burden I bore until I kissed it
I hided lovers and sewed my heart until the love was crimped
At times is seemed to threaten me by growing till it sliped
And psych evaluations sought to watch the timebomb tick
Recently I rediscovered a nigh forgotten refuge
Afloat amongst the beats and notes I felt less and less like refuse
So thank you Kimya and thank you Aes
And to every strange and friendly face
The cynics and supporters and those who rule in graves
For keeping flotsam bourne at sea
And showing me this wonderous place
I've cried at night and laughed till dawn
On the backs of equines I've soldiered on
Next time our world is torn in half and plans are put asunder
We'll all join hands and sing our songs and we can walk like thunder
 

Element of Smash

Scrub Lord
Joined
Jul 3, 2013
Messages
544
Location
Dallas, TX
I suppose one more wouldn't hurt...

Untitled
As coincidence would have it I was pondering the pages
That I have penned in sloppy writing and with myself debated
The refractive quality that life is prone to taking
Via empathetic instances of the subject simply fading
The kinds of things that are always someone else's monsters
The play-it-safe approach often over-fostered
Amid the conscious clatter a harsh reminder lighted
A man I never knew had stopped to chew a bullet

Reminisce two years ago
Inside the cockpit of a vessel bound for Gretna Green
We were absconding from a dream
You were seeking change
I was scared to fall apart
I gave you open skies
I received a broken heart

I collected all my pieces
I flew into the trees
On the stretcher with the leather strap pressed between my teeth
Who can be bothered to tell their fortune when the telling ends in grief?
Lucky stars were out of stock and sold separately
So we walk and we talk and do what we can
Enough is enough of the quicksilver sand
Sometimes in the muddy mire we can find a treasure
Unseen by the combers and the metal detectors
Like life, and love, things to reevaluate,
the torch that we needed to seal away the wraiths
the undeleted numbers of the great and the late,
the feeling that you get on a rainy summer day,
the stories from the brushes that let you walk away,
the precious gift we're given on the original date,
and that every moment carries something we can celebrate

I take it everyone is privy to the secrets tomorrow hoards
Understand that is a loss for better words
Artillery with a radius for closing gaps of distance
Ever present grind of maintained pistons
Clocking that world keeps spinning
Reclining in a hammock strung from juniper trees​
 

Merkabo

Smash Apprentice
Joined
Sep 29, 2014
Messages
101
Location
Minnesota
NNID
Merkabo
3DS FC
2895-8009-7813
Is as Is Happening


Beauty is the love creating gratitude.
Ambition is the will creating purpose.
Art is the life creating the soul.


Time is the memory creating the present.
Nothing is the space creating substance.
Imagination is the conception creating reality.


Peace is the stillness creating clarity.
Pain is the truth creating light.
Experience is the knowledge creating wisdom.
 

Other

Smash Rookie
Joined
Nov 29, 2014
Messages
14
Location
Connecticut
My turn? I actually kinda need help on this since I may be submitting it to a competition tomorrow.

When Boys Shoot Hoops (Help with another title?)

Looking out the window of the early morning train
to New York, I saw a boy shoot hoops with himself.
Me, age 7 or 9, I think memory is a strange thing.
It was decided, then, by me of course, that to have memories
is a choice, and to retain memories is also
a choice, and that to retain this memory I made the choice
to always associate this boy with memories.

On the green couch in the living room my mom had cancer.
I had a question, for my dad of course, “Are you kidding?”
I asked my dad, because he was always kidding.
Caught lucky, so early, the cancerous memories,
the boy with the basketball, just that.

It was one, or two weeks ago. Out by the reservoir
walks seem so innocent. Was it then when I realized
I might actually be happy?



(And I'm sorry the post before this appeared after I had posted this.)
 
Last edited:

Wintropy

Peace and love and all that jazzmatazz~! <3
Joined
Aug 28, 2014
Messages
10,032
Location
Here, there, who knows?
NNID
Winterwhite
3DS FC
1461-6253-6301
Dropping this here. Enjoy.

AND THEN

If you could hoist yourself up
Upon the scaffolding of my soul,
You would see such wondrous sights -
Beckoned from the greatest heights
To touch the skies,
Where neither God nor Man
Dare dream of things imagined,
Enchanted from a daring breath
And mingled with this newborn death
Of dreams not yet grown old.

There will be things and sights
That you will marvel to see:
Across a vaulted desert,
Perhaps,
Or along a stormy sea.
And there will be focuses
And fragrant musing,
Colliding thoughts
Of forms confusing,
A distant dream
That could perhaps still be;
And it sings softly of you and me.

We have traveled too far,
And still we've come too close;
Tasted victory in our eyes,
Become better than that at most.
We have slept for endless nights
And mused of foreign parts;
Abandoned all cares, reclaimed again
The seeds of damaged parts.

In another dream, we will meet again,
And we shall dwell in the throngs
Of silent voids and screaming stars,
Watch the hours melt away into the days
That bask in a plain and smiling sun,
Swim in falling waterfalls
And dig a grave for the unborn ones,
Light a candle, strike a match,
Catch our fears and throw them back,
While away the clocks with constant noise,
Sing a song of girls and boys,
Make a face or comb our hair,
Shelter fast from here and there,
And whisper things we'll always know
And wonder if this is how it ends,
With you and I together again,
Watching all the stars fall down
And the lights go out,
And when the world ends again,
We will wake up in the same place
With the same old dreams and things
And wonder if it was worth it all
In the end;
Or if the best is yet come,
And this is how our story starts -
With you and I
Hoisted upon the scaffolding of our souls,
Watching the stars go gently by,
Singing songs about you and I.
 
Last edited:

Mega-Spider

Smash Ace
Joined
Apr 16, 2015
Messages
955
Location
San Antonio, Texas
NNID
MegaSonic3
3DS FC
4124-5940-2103
Sometimes, I insert lyrics into Mega Man songs since the Mega Man franchise is my favorite video game franchise. I'm sharing one right now:

I’m back once again to bring you pain

My work is not in vain

I’ve had enough of your boy in blue

I’ll take a part out of you


My boy is stronger than you think

Not after 4 defeats by his hand

He will never surrender even at his brink

Why do you think he always takes a stand?


Justice and equality are what you seek

That makes you weak

Compassion and love will fall

Fear and oppression will rule above all


I will stand by my beliefs

Humans and robots can live in peace

You keep bringing the world grief

One day this violence will cease


Your firstborn came to me in his moment of death

I gave him new breath

He then betrayed me

Once constrained he’s now free


Blues made the choice to come to you

You gave him all of your sins

He now burdens a powerful rue

You saw him as nothing more than a piece of soulless tin


Compassion and love will fall

Fear and oppression will rule above all


I will stand by my beliefs

Humans and robots can live in peace

You keep bringing the world grief

One day this violence will cease


One day…

Song used:
 

Zatchiel

a little slice of heaven 🍰
Joined
May 27, 2009
Messages
11,089
Location
Georgia
NNID
Zatchiel
Switch FC
SW-0915-4119-3504
Didn't like the other one I wrote, but I don't like this one much more. I feel like getting stuff out though, so I'm just gonna write.


Ease my mind, old friend
There's stuff up here that shouldn't be
Ease my mind, old friend
It'd really mean a lot to me!

The darkness and loud beeps make an eerie team
Eviscerate them both, by any means!
Your words are enough, but your hugs are the best
And only you can rid me of these pests!

So ease my mind old friend, and do me a favor
Merely come forth, I hope it isn't labor
I understand if it's a lot to ask
To be real is a shamefully daunting task

But I know you're there, and I know you care
So I'd be forever grateful if you'd dare
Ease my mind, old friend, as I slip away
And let great memories prolong the day
 

Darkpit54

Smash Ace
Joined
Feb 3, 2016
Messages
610
Location
Texas
NNID
Robopenguin55
3DS FC
4699-6685-3678
Title: Haikus

Haikus are my favorite
They are just so amazing
I think I'll write one
 
Last edited:

lady_sky skipper

Smash Ace
Joined
Jan 29, 2017
Messages
810
Location
Hawaii
Title: Haikus

Haikus are my favorite
They are just so amazing
I think I'll write one
This would work best as an introduction to a book of haikus. However some people may think that your haiku is unoriginal because it's a little too on the nose about how you love haikus. I think it's okay, I would like to read some of your other haikus so continue to work on them.
 

uhmuzing

human-alien-cig
Writing Team
Joined
May 6, 2009
Messages
2,106
Location
Austin, TX
Reviving this because always awesome when we writers encourage each other to write and share and grow.

Didn't like the other one I wrote, but I don't like this one much more. I feel like getting stuff out though, so I'm just gonna write.


Ease my mind, old friend
There's stuff up here that shouldn't be
Ease my mind, old friend
It'd really mean a lot to me!

The darkness and loud beeps make an eerie team
Eviscerate them both, by any means!
Your words are enough, but your hugs are the best
And only you can rid me of these pests!

So ease my mind old friend, and do me a favor
Merely come forth, I hope it isn't labor
I understand if it's a lot to ask
To be real is a shamefully daunting task

But I know you're there, and I know you care
So I'd be forever grateful if you'd dare
Ease my mind, old friend, as I slip away
And let great memories prolong the day
I like this. I'm not great at critiquing others' work especially since poems can be intended to go a lot of different ways; a couple lines in stanzas 2 and 3 sound like they run slightly too long rhythmically. But I love the ambiguity and mood.


My poem here is a couple years old about a former residence I lived at with friends (note: not always a great idea to live w yr besties it turns out).

ketamine and vitamins
bezique, board games and routine gin
lupine ohm, exodian mirage
blocked chakras and miyazaki
I was sorry for you and sorry for me
we’d hold the most ambivalent séance
this is the inks ave
this is my inks ave

curmudgeonly serfdom of id
the junkyard of aborted kids
careworn in a beat aquarium
kicked rocks in the creek beneath
the monorail train graffiti’d
sped and tagged highways at 4am
this is my inks ave
this is the inks ave

this circle of friends thru prismatic light
rose tourmaline, rhodochrosite
sterling silver scratched and buffed out
her left in porcelain cast and sussed out
behind the door colored fuchsia
the arpeggiating minutiae

apaches finesse panache
seraphs tariff each caress
in a bed of rocks, yr xandu khan
what is 13 x chicon
monotone in a cyclone
the house of everlasting denouement
this is my inks ave
this is the inks ave



note: sorry mods if a couple lines there are against the rules, I figured it's written innocuously enough.
 
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