can you make up a poem in 5 minutes? It doesnt have to be really good too
Can you make up a poem in 5 minutes? It doesnt have to be really good too
On a dick he'll surely gag
OP is a fucking fag
It seems rather fitting to end the conversation talking about suicide
As fitting as the rope around my neck
It seems rather fitting that you told me you didn’t want to hang out
I guess I’ll go hang by myself
After all we only spoke for a weekend, however good it was
But it seemed endless to me
Besides you told me you had some things to sort out
And I have to short my heartbeat
But it don’t matter since it seems I forgot how to cry
And without tears there are no victims in life
good one actually
user
He writes this post.
No
NO
The post is posted.
I can probably do it in 2, maybe 1 if I write quickly. You just need to give me some time to prepare.
There once was a man named Buck
He liked to watch other men do his wife
He was what we consider a cuck
An unfortunate fetish he was stuck with for life
Don’t pity Buck, his home was his own
And His wife loved him with all of her heart
But she loved to take rides on the bull, Tyrone
Also Buck collects fine art
I’ve got a bum leg
My minds mostly broken
Every night i beg
Something to be foretoken
Am i at fault for not giving enough
Or is my art always to be unspoken
Long after from this world i depart
They can at least say i tried hard enough
poet laureate of Veeky Forums?
Mariner somia un son
Arramblat per la savina
Sota l'ombra del mitjorn
Es despenja una gavina
Tan de bò fos capità
Del vaixell de l'Argentina!
Partiria l'endemà
Fins la lluna beduïna
Mariner somia despert
Ple de sorra i sal marina
Al seu front el mar desert
I la Lluna que el pentina
>reddit spacing
Rabid, rapine, rash
March, march onwards fella
Dont look back, look under your feet
Don't fall back, look under your feet
Forsaken, forgotten, foregone
Rabid, rapine, rash
March, march onwards fella
Dont look back, look under your feet
March, march onwards fella
Don't fall back, look under your feet
Forsaken, forgotten, foregone
lol
I cum in my shoe
But I don't know why
I sit in my room
And start to cry
I felt this one
bard alone in empty fields
no longer with his stage
in his little heart he feels
no thing beside the rage
My dear user, I can and do
All my wit is spelt forth with
In a drive of writ, I spell this
I cycle through each word
Like a scythe for grain
My mind trice never lame
Here I dance for the Lord
In a cycle of words for fame
I felt a feel
seeing the teal
stripes of her shirt
&
lips still so pert
as they were that autumn afternoon
Actually beautiful thank you user
Eyes of broken glance
I missed
And fell out
Skies of spoken chance
A mist
Of tell pout
I gazed upon you
And felt something new
But it was but a phase
Of the blue
As you wanted something new
Actually a nice little poem.
/thread
The stars are bright tonight,
She said, and shut the curtain.
Won't you come to bed?
She only laughed, my lover laughed,
Her eyes like diamonds in the night,
She turned her head away from me
And I turned out the light.
What there is a little tale
of good mornings and old fare.
Some flighty, drab, or with new cold.
The mocken elementary drone.
Ice I dare not eat in cream
Screams eyes cream my eyes
Do I dare to scare the vertiform
Uniformless house in the high seas on
Waves brown black read on red
Dead hand in a dead land
This is the way the end whirls
Shot with a bang and a whisper
Haunting
Best poem in this thread so far IMO.
I am an arsonist, we'll talk that out,
The house is on fire, there's time to walk out
It doesn't matter, the kids have moved out
The rafters are smoking, there's no way out
Cheers to you, the greatest friends,
At last, we've made it to this place,
And though too soon some met their ends,
We still remember every face.
Raise high those foamèd brims, my boys,
The night's still long and whimsy!
The brew's all yours, the girls your toys,
All on me, till wallet's flimsy.
So knock about the boards and broads, God knows you lot have earned it.
Ease up, you rocked and rattled sods,
Harsh lesson's done, you've learned it.
>english is my second language
Should my future force falter,
is that reason enough to alter:
my lifelong lifestyle; no longer;
for it has forskaken me.
I am punny and weak
But still I learn to speak
For which old
And in holy mold
Golden lies, bold in eye
I wish once upon
The one up from non
grip slip tip
waitress got them hips (yuh)
slappin clappin plane is landing
yugioh got 5 cards in my hand and
pot of greed pot of greed pot of greed
pot is green pot is green pot is green
*mic drop*
Once your souls runs out
And your voice won't shout
Remember the tips of your hair
The feeling of despair
of not being
or simply not seeing.
Muse of mine
Why did you decide
To paw at my life
Why did you bring me
To God and life
Oh muse, how careless of you
I am now without you
What if somebody lowkey just dropped an actual amazing poem on this board and it was forgotten forever.
I mean all of these are shit but what if
Buttons upto his neck he stood to look tall.
Marching with a rythm, with a pinching at the seams, and a clocking like the hooves, he thumped his drums .
He was a marching boy, 13 years tall.
He felt old and mighty, like his homes stead, and his fathers heavy mead.
He thumped and drummed, the young one gone
And
Grown had he shown, his jacket now snug, like arms of when new, and war of then young.
Now old and abused by the sound of fire
From the weapons that which were used
Now Shocked and made mortal
he thumps on
For ever with a vaccant startle
...
Idk has something cool about it
I stand corrected
Going for length here, not quality.
Starting timer now.
How can we beseech the leakers of the nudes
when we too have received their bounty?
Why when shame thrusts itself upon our bosom
do we recoil as a rattlesnake struck by lightning—
when shame, the veritable antithesis of pride,
exists not in the perihelion of the soul's arc
but at the nadir of a cycle of self-effacement
that the merry-go-round produces ad nauseum.
The beaches wash ashore with the ego's detritus,
pelicans engulf waves of enraged pity,
the sun sets not, but resets
peddling the great lie of the dichotomous night and day,
which, transgressed only by time-zonal woes,
cuts through the heart of one and nall
like a bewitching hatred seized by love,
torn at the ventricles like algae in a cyclone
only to be made patchwork by Frankensteinian bargains
slung down the ringer and on the conveyer belt
where busybodies assemble prepackaged hope.
These two both dont hold topic. Prose is ok but your vocab is great
Just a reminder that John Keats wrote this in 15 minutes:
The Poetry of earth is never dead:
When all the birds are faint with the hot sun,
And hide in cooling trees, a voice will run
From hedge to hedge about the new-mown mead;
That is the Grasshopper’s—he takes the lead
In summer luxury,—he has never done
With his delights; for when tired out with fun
He rests at ease beneath some pleasant weed.
The poetry of earth is ceasing never:
On a lone winter evening, when the frost
Has wrought a silence, from the stove there shrills
The Cricket’s song, in warmth increasing ever,
And seems to one in drowsiness half lost,
The Grasshopper’s among some grassy hills.
>foamèd
what is wrong with you
what do you mean? i wrote one poem in five minutes
Take five,
five minutes,
five taps on four claps,
that's the time it took five,
five minutes took me to,
shit on the toilet. wooho.
I sing what is true, and like a stained glass
the words a song bears clouds the light
another image takes shape
beauty, the clothing of truth
how bright a blessed verse!
Always speak what is true
the jewel of the dharma
and here on earth will be beauty
don't grasp for shapes first
the words will be hollow
It is not different
minutes from a lifetime
washing over with the summer rains
seek refuge in pure words
and free yourself from the ropes
Unintuitive, unresponsive, the first claims are
Followed by the previous; truth you shall find
You only ever need to lie once, and what will it be? To twist oneself further - but who'd trust a liar such as you?
Now why do that, bait and switch
If I can chase my tail!
You only need to lay once, but they only accept the living
The book you must be part of, the story of life.
Now where did you go, and why can't I see?
Adam, pls
Those stanzas do not work together at all.
His tribal tattoos
makes
me horny and I touch
myself
#instapoet
All I say is really true
people think I'm fishing (you)
not a lie, it is the kike!
Why the nigger stole my bike
tender fingers intertwined
eyes half shut against the cold
lamps half-lit leave souls outlined against the walls of memories old
red lips mark on red lips
the pale cosmic skin
fingertip to fingertip
our voices sweet as simple hymn
the whale searches for his mother
forever lost
the loss tears away himself
he loses his fins, his teeth
only then he finds her
she can't find him
Yes, Im a little slut
Yes, I have no cunt
Yet, I want to be used by you
I will bow down on your cue
And worship at your feet
I becon to your every call
Every desire of yours I meet
So please, suck my meat
Yes, I want you
Yes, I want to use you
So please do what I want
And make me crawl
turner and hooch didn't work together at first
now look
change your paradigm man, it's killing your potential
On my close
I meet you old friend
With a sweet kiss
We embrace
With the devils wish
I go with you
And we leave to
Some where from no where
A place of never when
A place of love in sin
Oh death, my angel
My one only wish
I surrender my self
And meet your hand
I was genuinely complementing you. Im comparing you to greats be honored, and dont let your ego pull you under.
Unless you would like to make chase with a game, and learn to find your place.
You can call any
Chunk of text a poem
If
You put a lot of
Line breaks
In
It
Poetry oh poetry
Oft it's beyond grasp of the garden variety
Myself I am a jungle specimen
Ludicrously specialized
Scientifically scrutinized
And outside of the bubble dome of my niche
Unlikely to survive
The humongous blueberry floated through the cosmos
Its delicious vapors pierced the void and the space mites craved the juice
Those who feed will do so, and the parasitic creatures shredded the berry with their disgusting mandrils
The mandrils made no attempt of universality; their existence was consumption
The cosmic blueberry was obliterated by the swarm, and all that remained was the soft fragrance
The mites who craved the juice which such intensity fell to their own hedonism; the juice consumed their beings
Their viscera bursted in a beautiful, blue spin-art of existential collapse
The juice could not be contained to being, only to those who relinquish their being
The humongous blueberry floated through the cosmos
Im alone.
I have God.
I have no one.
I am one.
I know no God.
I know no one.
I am no God.
I am no one.
And I want one.
And I want God.
And Im alone.
Who is one
With one God
One with God
Who is God
'Twas OP's turn to settle the score
When he promised a new verdant lore
He commenced his adventure
But received a grave censure
When he ended it with "dinosaur"
I like this one quite a lot, but it feels like the phrase 'bubble dome' broke the rhythm slightly. It would have worked with just 'bubble'
I agree. I was stuck on dome, and then I thought a bubble would be the perfect frail material for a dome.
(you)
I wish some one would try
I wish some one would play
Some days Im sour
And some times im grape
But here I wonder whats eating
My purple gate
A prose so tight
It gets me
Into womans thigh
Oh oh my, a song of style
Of silly ghosts from nile
A keeper from away
With riddles as misty doors
It bores all to tears
And pulls at their ears
Its a knock knock on your front door
Thoughts that bore
I was smoking a joint
On a bench in the park
The night was silent
Not a single dog bark
All the people had left,
Back to their homes.
Husbands and wives
All left me alone.
The smoke rose and stroked the stars.
The world was better without the screeching of cars.
Yes I was alone.
A lonely old cat.
And some might think- and they might even say,
"Look at that nigger he's so fucking gay"
I ran out of time kek
I like the smoke rose and stroked the stars. It deserves better than screeching of cars
Okay im really self concious.
Am I any good?
This is me.
I was really going for the quantity over quality to be honest. Maybe I'll try again another time.
nope.
Damn, thank you
try again right now you puss and reverse your focus
I am the man on the moon oh for ever
I sing in the blues
Oh I am the man on top of the moon
Forever bored
So hear I soar
While everything is up in the air
And while Im dancing in the near of the stars
And I look down
But not upon you
For I ssink back down when graced
Upon that view
Foe it is, a lure back to you
But then you lose your view of me
Like when the sun is raised
And the moon fades out of view
For am for ever blue
And never with you
My muse
I amuse
If someone creates a poem they really like they'll always be able to write it down somewhere else so others can appreciate it.
Please God why?
Ah, don't be discouraged though. It's still one of the best poems in this thread.
CIA, Light in the darkness, fire on the rise. My sin, my soul. C-I-A. The point of the plane plunging precisely as planned to pin a panicked Pavel. C.I.A. He was Bill, plain bill in the morning, standing four feet ten, arms akimbo. He was Wilson in Khakis. He was Little Billy at school. He was William on the dotted line. but for you he was always CIA.
What poems are good in this thread?
>fire on the rise
don't fish for compliments
You filthy fucking whore, I swear to God
Lured in those silky sheets but I a lamb
To be slaughtered, again as we cum in sin
Who are you, she devil, and what is this trouble, that of which has be wrought Upon me with you, you wretched thot
With the act of sin with my mast up on
I dive deep with nets to empty my sin
...
...
Fine. I swear if this thread dies before I'm done I'm gonna be pissed.
As snow man armies crawled over the hills,
Militias of summer stayed potted on sills.
The trees were burning with the colors of fall.
Mothers sway at the flight of their sons
And dance in the wind as they fly above.
They freeze at the sight of the final stall.
And jump at the sound of crunching below.
But winter knows no warmth of love,
No color on sills, or aces above.
Feet freeze and hands go numb
Only saved by the heater's hum.
No one stands to the soulless season
Just stomp their boots to the beat of reason.
Пyшитe ми кypaц
Aнoни cвeтa
Лижитe ми јaјa
Узбyђeњe дa цвeтa
Aх кaкo милo
Cвe штo ce cнилo
Jeбeм вaм лит ycpaни.
You are welcome
noice
10 thousand dead people
holy shit
they came in numbers
>you should be honored to be recognized by me so please take this not-at-all hypocritical advice and curb your ego
your misspelling of *compliment nicely complements everything you seem to be about
Idgaf about grammar as long as the message is conveyed
beep boop
shloop
doobe doop. Koop--
Floop roop troop!
good to see you agree
>idgaf about the means to convey the message clearly as long as the message is conveyed
There once was a fellow named OP
His mother told him he was an OG
He sits in his room and masturbates
But his life isn’t all that great
Much time is spent in misery
A text from my ex
left unanswered, I
wanted no part
Later I learned
Shes dead, forever
So is my heart
Life is beautiful
Her servants so dutiful,
They slay eachother,
They fuck and rape.
Vibrant colors and shapes,
Amorphous and indistinct-the pantheon of life germinates,
Chaos, Sweet and salacious chaos
For the voyeur to consume, the audience can gaze at the cuckholdery from
screens so fucking beautiful!
rimerlick my gastric sleeve
—op