A fresh thread for poems and songs of interest. Elassë~adael’s idea.
Patience, Please
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A fresh thread for poems and songs of interest. Elassë~adael’s idea.
YAY!!!!
I think I’ll go write something and then I’ll post it here!
Here’s an excerpt from a Wallace Stevens poem that I like a lot:
It’s from Thirteen Ways of Looking at a Blackbird
I was of three minds,
Like a tree
In which there are three blackbirds.
One of my earlier works:
Pop!
I didn’t mean to do it.
Somehow it just now popped.
Though that might not have happened
If I had only stopped.
Stopped poking at it thinking,
“What could this li’l pin do?”.
And then it started leaking,
And I looked up at you.
Back at me you looked,
And then a thought we shared.
This little thing that I had popped
Was frightfully impaired.
And then as we were watching,
We both began to cry.
For all the air from our balloon
Was floating to the sky.
The End
I hope this doesn’t come out all wierd from that HTML….
Yay! It didn’t.
why
can’t we all be
who we are
and not get annoyed
at each other’s quirky traits?
why
do we hate one another?
why
do the cheerful get blamed
for the grumpy’s
frustration?
why
must there be war?
why
do people hate
that which they do not understand?
*sighs* Whew! I found my book where I put down all my poems in! My dad, even though he is a computer whiz, that being what he does for work, ERASED ALL OF THE FILES ON THE COMPUTER!!! And so I thought all my beautiful poems were gone forever, or at least until he gets the backup disc with all the info back into the machine.
So, here goes!
I will post two.
NIGHTINGALE’S SONG
Nightingale’s song
Whistled through the trees,
Carried along
By summer night’s breeze.
Fireflies’ lights
In trees land, and stay,
Whispered flights
Of fairies at play.
Darkness ending,
Owl hoots its soft call.
Branches bending,
Down falls night’s black wall.
BLACK-AND-WHITE SUNSET
Black-and-white sunset
Like pictures in a book
Black-and-white sunset,
On shades of gray, eyes pause to look
Black-and-white sunset,
In a land where such things hold no joy,
Black-and-white sunset,
Gray rainbow a babe’s broken toy.
Black-and-white sunset,
A woman’s eyes filling with tears,
Black-and-white sunset,
From mem’ries of more colorful years.
Tadaaaa! *bows low*
Yep, I’ve written some sadder poems, but they do bring a sense of longing into your heart for flight on wings of fantasy, and flashes of color too real for this world.
6- ooh! I like your work. I like the rhythm of the repitition of those lines! I’m very glad your dad found the back up disk and your work wasn’t lost!
When I was five I wrote this:
Outer Space
In outer space
So deep and blue
All [of] the aliens will not come true
They will come
Or they will not
They might all land
On the Great Red Spot
Yay! I DID write that at the age of 5; I do not lie.
9- I wrote something at the age of five too! I beleive you! My poem was four lines and involved the metaphor “the midnight sun” for the moon. I will post the whole poem here as soon as I find it. I’m not lying either, I really did write it at the age of five.
2- YOU USED A VOCAB WORD!!!!!!!!!! EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! AND ONE IN THIS WEEK TOOOO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! WHEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
*Hugs* Tell mah english teachah!!!
8) Thank you! When I was much younger I would always write poems that were like couplets all about the same thing jumbled together. I find that kind of annoying now, like the poems that my sister has to memorize for school. They seem disconnected.
Sorry, that wasn’t really a reply to your question, but its been bugging me. ^-^ Your reply made my day! *warm fuzzies all around*
9) That is a great poem for a five year old! When I was three almost four, my parents have kept a piece of paper they scribbled down a poem I told them. (Whoa , not in order, but you can make sense of that sentence, right?)
“I had a dream
When I slept
Upon my beddy beddy bed”
Not rhyming, but still…..
My dad actually started me and my grandfater into poetry writing, but for both of us (grandfather and me) he thinks he has dropped a pebble and started an avalanche. My grandfather writes lots of poems that are amazingly beautiful. I have an uncle who died when he was 18, and he wrote poems about that experience, and they always make you start into tears.
Yes, poetry is amazing.
5) Great poem! I think that is very insightful.
Have you ever noticed we are meanest to the people we should be the nicest to?
Why don’t we fight with other people not in our family, but fight with our brothers and sisters?
Hmmmm……. I wonder……..
10- i wrote a story when i was 3 but i couldn’t actually write so i dictated it to my dad and he wrote it. i think it’s in my room somewhere but i haven’t seen it in ages. all i remember is it was about my imaginary pet mice.
YAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAY!!! *dances* Whee! Poems&Songs! Lemme read now..
Zyka- I really like you’re poems! Especally Black and White Sunset.
Hmm, I think it’s time to bring out my word file with all the poems on it! Squee!
tat tat, tat tat
I stand outside
by myself
the rain falls down
softly
splashing onto the blades of grass
and the leaves of trees
the sound echos
ringing through me
like a distant memory
the song is uncomposed
yet rhythmic
tat tat, tat tat
tumbling down from the sky
like tears
or me
for I am raining too
the sadness overflowing
spilling out
I turn my face upward
melting into the sky
and for a moment
you cannot tell if it is me
or the sky
who is crying
tat tat, tat tat
16) Thank you! *warm fuzzies all around agian*
17) That is a beautiful poem! It has great metaphors, and you feel like you are really there.
*is ashamed* I accidentally spelled “again” wrong!
YAY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Poems and Songs!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Nobody had posted in the other one for ages! Wahoo!
5 – I hope you won’t mind if I say I thought it was really funny, even though it’s true.
6 – I like them. I don’t really have any feedback, sorry.
9 – Very good. I wrote this piece of music at age five that was pretty good for age five. I think I was five.
11 – Huh? All of those words are in my vocabulary…..is that what you meant?
12 – I never rhymed, and I still never do. I’m more of a rhythm person. Sometimes just jumbled words.
17 – I really like it. Feedback:
“yet rhythmic” doesn’t really sound right to me. You don’t have to change it, but for some reason I think it should be phrased a bit differently.
I had something else to say, but I don’t remember what it was. Oh, well.
Whoops, I forgot to post a poem. I don’t think I have one right now. I’ll give one to you when I have one.
17- Love your poem!!! I can’t write nice poems, they always sound forced. The only poem I am proud of is a lymerick I wrote in 5th or 6th grade
There once was a frog named Ay,
Who loved to swim in the bay.
He hopped out of the water,
And ate a flyswatter,
and died the very next day.
22) 0.o I think that qualifies as random….. ^-^
BUAHAHAHA!!! I like those little ^-^ faces now, because I could never find the ^ button till yesterday!
2: That sounded wierd, as I have just gotten back from a Flight Museum and they had a blackbird spyplane (Which is a VERY froody plane) so I had an image of three spyplanes in a tree, which took away some of the poetiscism
Here’s a poem I wrote:
A Musical Interlude
Music is an exquisite spirit,
With lines and dots from pages as her hair,
Clothed in ethereal melodies from long ago.
She sees the wishes and aspirations of people who listen to her voice.
Her laugh is the violins, oboes, and flutes twittering about.
Her shout is the cellos, basses, and low brass booming with sound.
She writes imprints that last forever in the memories of people,
using the quill that Beethoven, Bach, and Mozart used.
The smile of music is the beam upon the performer’s face as they put their soul into her.
And her heart is the essence of all, filled with dreams, hopes, and emotions.
—
personally, this the my least favorite poem.
Oddly enough, this won me grand prize at a contest by my local library branches.
I found a poem I wrote in fifth grade! It is kind of odd.
A BUGGY BUG WORLD
Experiment gone wrong.
Intelligent insects fighting arachnids.
I am dumbfounded.
Bugs in my computer. Real bugs.
Things in my soup. Are they flies?
Worm talking. Worm saves the day.
Take bugs outside. Give them materials.
Instant amusement park.
The Beetles are playing songs.
Ants run The Rocket.
Bumbling beetles brag about Bugworld.
Go racers, Go!
Food, courtesy of the dump.
Rotten apple cores, dung balls and old egg salad are favorites.
Money fashioned out of newspaper scraps.
Too many counterfeits.
Creatures living human lives.
Abnormal.
Beetle cabs take bugs home.
Carpooling not allowed.
Parking lot emptying.
Dew gathering on grass.
Dusk.
DECIEVERS OF THE TRUTH!
Do not play with our minds!
Teach us not to hate!
Let us live in peace!
Die without our pity!
Who is the liar but he who denies that Jesus is Christ?
This is the Antichrist, he who denies the Father and the Son
Family of death, Christ is the deciever
Forsaken by his Father, to die for our hate
Keep us in blindness, let us kill ourselves
We suffer in our violence, you wallow in the mire
Of your sadistic desire
Who is the killer but he who denies that morality is human!
This is the Christian, he who hates the love of man.
Killing in the name of God
Destroying in the name of good
Hating in the name of love
LIVING IN THE NAME OF DEATH!
this is meant to be sung as a death metal song.
I fell… Down, down, down into the dark dismal pits of our home, past the roots of plants old and strong and wise, they, they know what it is that lies inside the earth… as I fell, down, past the bones of our ancestors, past the rotting bundles of flesh and limbs that seemed to grasp at me, always further, past the hideous remains of creatures long decadent, past remains of once-great and towering obelisks that had been host to blasphemous rites, still farther, past ancient rock and soil, and as I watched the rock, it seemed to me that there were features in the stone, features of people and creaters of memory, my memory, horrid memories that I had tried so hard to bury, to forget, to leave behind, were all there, glaring at me, as I fell down, deeper into the earth, reminding me of all the tragedies that I had experienced in life, so that I rememberd them all as i fell, into the grave.
Girl
Dancing her crazy spirit
out into the world.
It’s not about this or that
just being
27- I’m sorry, but I find those lyrics insulting and incredibly painful and full of stereotypical ignorance.
30 – Why are you sorry about that? It’s your opinion, don’t appologize for it.
30- I agree.
frigidsymphony, will you please explain?
The song just seems to reinforce alot of stereotypes about Christians. I am a christian, but it doesn’t rule my life. I don’t believe everyone should convert to my religion. I’m not against abortion or gay marriage, I’m not racist, and I’m anti war. It’s because I’m a white christian, people assume I am the opposite of all those things. frigidsymphony’s song just seems to reinforce that. I am hurt, and I would like to know if it was intentionally an antichristian song.
And I also believe in Darwin, and think this whole intelligent design debate is a good example of religion infiltrating the government.
34) The question is, have you read his book?
I did out of curiosity. I was appalled on how people believed him when he built castles in the sky, basically, going from one solid piece of truth up twenty steps and saying because of that truth, this had to be true.
Like saying that because the sky was blue, the universe was filled with blue fish.
0.o
Poems? Songs?
I’ll be glad to start an evolution thread if it’s something Musers would like to talk about.
Yes! Evolution! 111! my precioussssssss…
35…I didn’t exactly find that true… he gathered what he knew and expressed his theories, based on what he had observed. I, for one, find it more plausable than Genesis, which has no corrobrative evidence at all.
err… You seem to be lost and confused. Let me help you. This is poems and songs not evolution.
11-exerpt? what grade are you in?
40. ) I wouldn’t even be surprised if in twelfth. When I was in seventh grade, one of the vocab words was “in.” Pretty sad, actually.
Anyways, back to poems and songs, I shall now compose you a poem on the spot:
MUSEBLOGGERS UNITE!
Before it is too late.
Pick up your pies now,
We don’t need forks and plates!
Throw them pies! Throw them now!
I don’t care at who, I don’t care how.
Warfare, folks, that’s what pie is!
We must show the world this, and also something that rhymes with “is!”
Now pie them, pie them, now I say!
Yes you can, yes you may.
Okies, that was interesting, but it was written in record time!
One minute!
Yay! A great inspirational poem!
Vocab words are soooo pathetic. I learned most of the ones we are doing now in about 4th grade.
uh… always misunderstood… Sorry, it does seem a deliberate antichristian song. It’s actually going to be the opening track of a historically themed cd. As soon as i can find a decent recording studio ( a big one: 6 guitars!!!) or my band doesn’t disband. It’s about the hypocrisy of the early church, and it’s full of stereotypes because stereotypes are rooted in fact, and that was fact in earlier times. Sorry everyone, but I wasn’t thinking when i posted that. In fact, i changed a line on the “official” version. When it says “this is the Christian”, it says Zealot instead of Christian.
I’m very good at appreciating art. But I don’t produce it. I can struggle with prose (some of my shopping lists are masterpieces) but poetry is farther out of my league than Mata Hari is out of Lyle Lovett’s. So, in an effort to kickstart and recussitate the ‘SONGS’ side of the equation, here it is:
The Hippopotamus
A bold Hippopotamus was standing one day
On the banks of the cool Shalimar
He gazed at the bottom as it peacefully lay
By the light of the evening star.
Away on a hilltop, sat combing her hair
Was a fair Hippopotami maid;
The Hippopotamus was no ignoramus
And sang her this sweet serenade:
‘Mud, Mud, glorious mud
Nothing quite like it for cooling the blood!
So follow me, follow
Down to the hollow
And there let us wallow
In glorious mud’
The fair Hippopotama he aimed to entice
From her seat on that hilltop above
As she hadn’t got a Ma to give her advice
Came tiptoeing down to her love.
Like thunder the forest re-echoed the sound
of the song that they sang when they met
His inamorata adjusted her garter
And lifted her voice in duet (in Russian)
(in Russian, DS sings, MF translates \)
‘Mud, Mud, glorious mud
Nothing quite like it for cooling the blood!
So follow me, follow
Down to the hollow
And there let us wallow
In glorious mud!’
That should improve our cultural relations
The bold Hippopotami began to convene
On the banks of that river so wide
I wonder, now, what am I to say of the scene
That ensued by the Swhalimar side?
They dived all at once, with an ear-splitting splosh
Then rose to the surface again
A regular army
of Hippopotami
All singing this haunting refrain:
‘Mud, Mud, glorious mud
Nothing quite like it for cooling the blood
So follow me, follow
Down to the hollow
And there let us wallow
In glorious mud’!
Ok. I feel better now…
(2) Rosanne, I’m so glad you posted that! Wallace Stevens is possibly my favorite poet and that’s one of the first poems I ever read by him.
(3) haha! Nice rhyme scheme.
(Der Watchelschlag) I love that song! I was singing it during marching rehearsal and they gave me funny looks and then yelled at me to stand at attention. But I did amuse myself, at least.
I was writing a song… I don’t really know how I could copy it down as I can’t send you the tune…hmm…
Bleh…I have to write a poem about a piece of fruit for poetry class by tomorrow, and I have a terrible case of writer’s block! Phooey….
well, fruit isn’t really an inspiring subject…
Durians are. You’ll be desperate to write a poem once you’ve read what Wikipedia says about them. Skip down to the section called “Flavour and Odour.”
50-That’s probably why we were told to write about it. It certainly wasn’t my choice of subject.
51-Omigosh…I just read what you said to, and you’re right. That’s a good fruit to write about. I was going to do a way-too-ripe banana, but I’ll see what I can make out of this. Thanks.
“MuseBlog: Making homework more surreal since 2005.”
53-Lol niiice…!
41-You don’t care who we throw the pies at? Well, okay, but you asked for it. *pies* *throws oxygen mask to Zyka* *pies continuously until Zyka is buried under pies*
Here’s a poem:
adrift.
I float through the fog
it separates me from the world
I live in a cloud of dreams
where an occasional burst of sunlight
will break a hole in the fog
apart.
I see others through the fog
their images a blur
one blending into another
what they are telling me a blur of movement no sound
sometimes I understand their unspoken tounge
but often they must repeat it aloud
alone.
they leave me to sit
in the tops of the highest trees
I try to climb down
but they are forever moving away
44~ NOOOOO!!!!!!!!!! not the hippoptomus song!!!! I have vivid memories of singing that song REALLY LOUDLY with some friends in the car going to the book store one day. Did I mention that they were really out of tune as well as loud?
It’s dangerous
Why do you do it?
You could get killed.
That’s not what it’s all about.
Well, what then?
it’s about identity.
seeing how far you can go.
pushing past barriers.
defining yourself.
Realizing you can always break the limits,
but you’ll never break them all.
The Hypotenuse
There are many misconceptions
of this strange, strange thing.
It’s name is the Hypotenuse
And it does not like to sing.
The Hypotenuse is large
And actually quite rare.
It has ten toes
And it’s favorite food is the bear.
More later.
51-Ok, so I managed to make a poem out of that information, and I am posting it below:
The Durian
It’s a spiked lil’ lump.
It smells like a dump.
O, what could this horrid thing be?
As the plate goes ‘round,
I watch the green mound,
Until it fin’lly gets to me.
I’ve watched it be tried,
And nobody died,
So I guess that it must be okay.
With my fork I pat,
And then I poke at
It. Someone yells, “Sometime today!â€.
I take a small piece.
A breath I release.
I down it as fast as I can.
It tastes like mustard,
Mixed in with custard.
I do not like this durian!
I know it’s not great, but I wrote it in less than an hour, so, please, forgive me.
55.) *feels covered in pie* Mmmmm, thanks for the oxygen mask, though!
Thunderstorms
If the world was a puddle,
I would splash in it.
Me, with my pink rubber boots and
Blue rain jacket
(Which I only wore because you told me to)
Watching the rain come down…
And then up again,
When I stomped in it.
Finally, when I’m soaked through
I come in and-
-to your query
Say I’m not cold.
Before dinner we sit by the window
You and I
And wish for a thunderstorm
To go with the rain
Already there.
Sometimes there was
And I would go to sleep
With the sound of rain drumming in my ears
To wake up the next morning
And splash in the puddles.
this is a poem i wote not too long ago- i’m a real fan of freestyle writing, so there isnt any rhyming. there’s a pic on our fridge of me when i was really little, ouside after a rainstorm. that’s my insparation. feedback please!!
62- I like it! I especially like the parentheses (I always like parentheses in poems) and the “if the world was a puddle,/ I would splash in it.” Good job!
nowhere
now here
where now
turning
turning
the possibilities changing
like oil on water
the days blend together
nowhere
now here
where now
turning
turning
the leaves change and fall
turning
turning
I sang a canto, sweet and short
silly litlle thing
the morning air was clear and fair
my voice was thin, like string
a morning-child, lovely lark
laughs a little at my ditty
twitty little twitterer,
I’ll show you how to sing
And calls out, flute-throated
free, fresh as fruit in the morning air
um. if no one minds i’ll use this to post songs. just to warn you, I write weird songs. so. um.
‘Floating Dream’
Can you see a song float, hazy but bright
Through the atmosphere
Of a starry night?
Can you see a voice
Raised joyfully in song,
Can you tell (can you?) where you belong?
Let the music sweep you away to a
Place without night and a place without day
Glowing brighter than stars in the night
When will you let yourself go?
Can you see a smile, as if it
Glows in the dark?
Can you hear the feelings that
Pierce a heart?
Melodies glowing as stars in the night
Can you not see what is there?
Let the music sweep you away to a
Place without night and a place without day
Glowing brighter than stars in the night
When will you let yourself go?
Things unseen, though not for me
That I can see clearly as daylight, you see
What you call real
Is a shadow in comparison
Can you not see what is there (truly)?
Hardened by years, blinded by tears
You make up silly things to protect you from the wonderful-
I can see a song float,
A light in the dark
I can hear the feelings that pierce a heart-
Eyes of innocence, ears of curiosity,
These are what you have lost…
Can you see a song float, hazy but bright
Through the atmosphere
Of a starry night?
Can you see a voice
Raised joyfully in song,
Can you tell (can you?) where you belong?
Let the music sweep you away to a
Place without night and a place without day
Glowing brighter than stars in the night
When will you let yourself go?
Can you see a smile, as if it
Glows in the dark?
Can you hear the feelings that
Pierce a heart?
Melodies glowing as stars in the night
Can you not see what is there?
Let the music sweep you away to a
Place without night and a place without day
Glowing brighter than stars in the night
When will you let yourself go?
Floating like a helium balloon through the night,
My soul is a song, and I am free
Melodies flowing, leaves in a river, carried by currents unseen…
Can you see a song float, hazy but bright
Through the atmosphere
Of a starry night?
Can you see a voice
Raised joyfully in song,
Can you tell (can you?) where you belong?
Let the music sweep you away to a
Place without night and a place without day
Glowing brighter than stars in the night
When will you let yourself go?
Melodies growing, bright stars in the night
When will you let yourself go?
Let the music sweep you away….
hey does anyone like the Greatful Dead out there? when I think of a song for muses this pops into my head (end of Lady with a Fan/Terrapin Station, it seems apropriate [i changed he to she and terrapin to kokoino!
]):
Since the end is never told
we pay the teller off in gold
in hopes she will come back
but she cannot be bought or sold…
Inspiration
move me brightly
light the song with scents and color!–
hold away despair
more than this I would not ask
when faced with mysteries dark and vast
some rise
some fall
some climb
to get to Kokoino…
also I am translating terrapin station into spanish. fyi. and doesn’t that last part sound very muse-related? (old and new) specialy To get to Kokoino. *laughs*
ripple also…
um…
I’ll post one of my songs tomorow. hopefully.
Meep. will my brain start working again soon? i can only hope…
I’m listinging to Coldplay… I’ll post the song… Sad but Good…
Amsterdam
Come on, oh my star is fading
And I swerve out of control
If I, if I’d only waited
I’d not be stuck here in this hole.
Come here, oh my star is fading
And I swerve out of control
And I swear I waited and waited,
I’ve got to get out of this hole
But time is on your side
It’s on your side now
Not pushing you down and all around
It’s no cause for concern
Come on, oh my star is fading
And I see no chance of release
I know I’m dead on the surface
But I’m screaming underneath
And time is on your side
It’s on your side now
Not pushing you down and all around
It’s no cause for concern
Stuck on the end of this ball and chain
And I’m on my way back down again
Stood on a bridge, tied to a noose
Sick to the stomach
You can say what you mean
But it won’t change a thing
I’m sick of the secrets
Stood on the edge
Tied to a noose
You came along
And you cut me loose
You came along
And you cut me loose
You came along
And you cut me loose….
Pinball Wizard by The Who
why does that sound farmiliar? Is it any good?
modified from an older piece:
let your dreams take ink form
pen them
at the crossrods of imagination and despair
as you write, you are ascending
past the nightmare groves
where darkness is dancing
——————————-
the leaves fall
bright, like thoughts
from the trees
i wander down the path
half-cloaked by leaves
their thoughts entering my mind
so much despair in this world
and I wonder
is there a way to hope, to fly?
71- It’s from the who’s rock opera, Tommy. It’s pretty good but a little strange. My dad is a huge rock buff.
(71, adding to 73) It’s an AWESOME song!! And my marching band is playing it this year. w00t w00t!
(72) iThe first bit has some beautiful imagery, I love the idea of ascending as you write.
Here’s an excerpt from Anastaia.
Dancing Bears, Painted Wings, Things I almost remember
Some of my fave SA songs:
The Boy Who Wanted To Be A Real Puppet
[Music and lyrics by Tony Kakko]
So many years ago, many more than I’d
Even care to bear in my mind
From the darkest of all places I found you
All the limbs in their right places
And a heart made of real gold
Sell me your little doll, oh sir, I ask you kind
Every night I returned to watch them
The master and the puppet in the show
He said: “Oh, no, I cannot sell him…
Priceless he is, masterpiece of mine”
Please, sell me your puppet, sir
Name your price, oh please,
Whatever you may ask,
Tenfold the price I pay
“Did I not make it clear?
This debate is over
I will never part from this puppet, my son…”
With hungry eyes I followed them all night
The blind master and the puppet he had made
“No, sir, to sell is not my will!”
The doll is mine, even if I have to kill…
So it shall be… if this is what it takes
“Greed is truly blinder than me…”
“Heart of gold is what you wish for?”
“So, this little boy… wants to be… a puppet, for real…”
So I have the golden heart
Now only needing the voice of the master
Never feel hunger, never grow older
My dream was to be a star in a real puppet show
[SOLO]
It’s so hard to remember my life
The times before the show
Can I ever cut off the strings?
“Take a bow, now dance and sing…” (Sing!)
Would you turn me to a child again?
“No, never, I am your Guide”
You can see a small grin on the face
Of the master, when the puppet’s in his place
Be careful what you wish for
Wishes might come alive
The twines are pulling me every day and night…
The show, the glitter and all the fame
I’d give away for a life
Some things can end with a word, they say
This only ends with a sharp knife (Knife!)
Wildfire
[Music and lyrics by Tony Kakko]
[SPOKEN:]
Oh why are we so sad?
Are we feeling hurt by their evil eyes and all those empty words?
We are thirsty for payback?
What would we like to do with the town?
Wouldn’t we like to make it dance (Ha ha ha ha) with the animal?
Would we? Would we?
Tell us, what we would like to do.
Burn it. Burn it all…
Burn honey, burn, let the fire eat away
I never liked the look of this town
Burn it down now
I’ll run, they all know what I’ve done
I fetch my gear and take my leave from this mountain
I never had a chance to prove I wasn’t guilty,
I always seemed to get blamed for
Every little crime, I didn’t even have a name for…
Still running, still defeated in my mind
I never even tried to defend my own pride
The father ain’t always like the son
They claim we’ve purloined, I’m not the one…
The story always goes, when the anger within
Builds up for too long…
Takes us over…
And we all are forced to obey, hey…
It was a match made in Hell,
Now the whole mountain burns
And every man gets what no man deserves
Our beloved kin never learned to fit in
Now I pay for my name, live my life in sin
How much less can I ask from you people?
This town stays in disarray
‘Til the rules are the same for us all, hey…
[SOLO]
I’ve ran on this mountain, with no guilt of my own
The trees and the rocks, every cave, every hole
I dropped them a line, “Beware, this mountain will
blow in your face. My last saving grace…”
Bells toll all over town, burn, burn until it’s all gone
Game over, what was a bad joke is now a reality show…
Oh, we all are forced to obey… oh, we ALL are forced to obey…
I climbed up the mountain,
And dug a grave for each day of pain,
It’s in the past, this moment’s so frail…
I am what you made me
With years of abuse, so burn!!!! (Burn, burn, burn)
It was a match made in Hell,
Now the whole mountain burns
And every man gets what no man deserves
Our beloved kin never learned to fit in
Now I pay for my name, live my life in sin
How much less can I ask from you people?
This town stays in disarray
‘Til the rules are the same for us all
Our beloved kin never learned to fit in
Now I pay for my name, live my life in sin
How much less can I ask from you people?
I hereby declare a martial law
And you all, we all are forced to obey… hey!
Don’t Say A Word
[Music and lyrics by Tony Kakko]
I am your poison candygram,
the love that’s meant to fade away
Vade retro, alter ego, move aside, I’m choking on this life
I think I tolerate your hate, as long as you’re afraid
All I wanted was to be with you and suffer every day…
Under the moon I hold a wake for a promise torn
Mortally wounded, feelings sheltered me
Once again my shadow will enter your life
Time to walk with me the last mile…
I read a book about a man, a love, a woman, how they died
How I was waved aside, listen how the headless doves cry
I truly see a madman in the mirror when I’m weak
I spent a year in love before I realized it’s me
Open your blue eyes, tell me that you love me, whore
Make me believe it, oh I know you’re lying
Broke the vow I thought you made, my angel, why…
Could I let you wait out the night?
[CHORUS:]
Mother always said “my son, do the noble thing…”
You have to finish what you started, no matter what,
Now, sit, watch and learn…
“It’s not how long you live, but what your morals say”
Cannot keep your part of the deal
So don’t say a word… don’t say a word
It won’t be long now, love, like mist I slowly fill the room
I place a black candle on your chest,
The path of night is manifest
I never wanted us to end up in this catatonic phase
It wasn’t me who ran away, you made me stray…
Open your blue eyes, tell me that you love me, whore
Make me believe it, oh I know you lie
Broke the vow I thought you made, my angel, why…
Settling the score, we pass the twilight…
[CHORUS:]
Mother always said “my son, do the noble thing…”
You have to finish what you started, no matter what,
Now, sit, watch and learn…
“It’s not how long you live, but what your morals say”
Cannot keep your part of the deal
So don’t say a word… don’t say a word
Strawberry blonde, your stranglehold
on my heart is bound to end
I suppose, life sometimes,
it doesn’t go the way it was meant
Though you never were a believer,
I assure you: I won’t die before you
You read the book now,
The part “ashes to ashes, dust to dust”
Short is the flight of this little starling
Love sounds familiar, but the emotion escapes me
I will carpe the diem while it’s still here,
And see how the fear of death becomes her
We had it all so sweet
Made for me, you, indeed…
Big secret, small the lie
Don’t cry for me, oh, argentite
No word you say tonight
Can make this be alright
I’ll help you follow through
Remember this?: Pacta sunt servanda
… The wounds are too deep,
I need to keep the scars
To prove there was a time
When I loved something more than life
Unlike the last time here,
I now have the means and a will sincere
Your knight is nowhere near
Unfortunate for you, this makes me your God…
[SOLOS]
Closing your eyes, don’t ever say you love me, whore
You never meant a word, I know you lied
When there is life, there is despair, indulge me now
And stay alive this night… I promise you the end before the first light arrives…
[CHORUS:]
Mother always said “my son, do the noble thing…”
You have to finish what you started, no matter what,
Now, sit, watch and learn…
“It’s not how long you live, but what your morals say”
Cannot keep your part of the deal
So don’t say a word… don’t say…
[CHORUS:]
Mother always said “my son, do the noble thing…”
You have to finish what you started, no matter what,
Now, sit, watch and learn…
“It’s not how long you live, but what your morals say”
Cannot keep your part of the deal
So don’t say a word… Don’t Say A Word!
The Power Of One
[Tony Kakko]
(“My father’s land,
My mother’s tongue
Misleading me,
So shamelessly
For many years,
I misbelieved
The hatred is the path for me.”)
Father I have killed many angels,
I think.
I will now walk to the sea.
I hope you will someday forgive me
Please moor
My empty boat on a pier
I can blame for the blue blood that runs in my veins.
But I seem to forget that we are all the same.
In your own blaze of hate you’ve spawn a fear in many lives
You’ve taken action thinking it was all said on the signs.
You cannot heal the feeling burning deep inside your spine
You now collapse, cave in revealing scabby marks of life
Mother I’ve seen too much, I hate to live my life.
Forgot every word you told me, stubborn little child, (angel of your life)
I have to find my Eden now, the gates I left behind.
But the pain will remain.
No power to gain.
Now I have time to dwell on, self-awareness, dreadful crime.
I saw colors too bright, not knowing that I was blind.
I slayed a man who took a chance and drank the forbidden wine.
The map I draw reveals that I have been complete, machine, in team.
Father I’ve seen too much, I hate to live my life.
Forgot every word you told me, stubborn little child, (angel of your life)
I have to find my Eden now, the gates I left behind.
The pain will remain.
No power to gain.
Mother where’s your son.
When has this begun’
Who has been the fool’
No one was born to be a servant or a slave.
Who can tell me the color of the rain’
In the world that we live in, the things said and done
They can well overrun
The power of one.
No one was born to be a servant etc.
To leave and let die
To give hope and take life
Is that what you’re here for’
To think you are right
To make sure it won’t fly
Is a making of a hate crime
In the homes of the brave,
In the homes of the land slaves,
We are all the same
I need to believe.
There’s more than the eye can see
All colors of rainbow.
No one was born to be a slave
Seek the past and place the blame
Tell me the color of the rain
No one was born to be a master
In the land we live, we die
Praise the oneness, praise the lie
To bind a web around the faker
We will need a true
Rainmaker
“Children of Abel, Children of Cain
Can live in harmony, without shame
The keys that I grant thee, The Sacred Land
Are dry desert sand on the palm of your hand
Without the water, the wisdom of past
Will run through your fingers, forgotten so fast
Thus now when I leave you, I’m truly blind
This blindness, this blessing, the hope of mankind…”
Wolf And Raven
[Tony Kakko]
Grant me a wish, my master
Take heed of me
I have been loyal servant
Heartfelt, humble
Gave up – what belongs to me
Gave up my greed
My self-examination
Made me see, to be me
I am now like Judas, done
Ashamed of what I’ve become
Fear for life I wear as a ring
To bask in your favor, I will kill the king
You say I am invincible
I cannot die,
I know, but anyway
The words, they maim me
Grant me a wish, my master
Compassion, please
I’d like be a human
…Maybe one day
I am now like Judas, done
Ashamed of what I’ve become
Fear of life I wear as a ring
To bask in your favor, I will kill the king
[Entreaty:] let me go
Master, I hate you so
How can I sleep my nights
When my whole being cries
I tried to be like everyone
Open my soul
But what I had to give
Resulted loathing
Enchanted by the power
Licked by the grace
One beautiful black flower
The end of the human race
With pride now face my faith
King and Queen now lie in state
Fear for life I wear as a ring
I bask in your favor, I have killed the king
[Entreaty:] let me go
Master, I hate you so
How can I sleep my nights
When my whole being cries
I had a nightmare
The Wolf eating The Raven
Entrails of life on my plate
And I ate ’em..
Interested in what I see
Try that Rorcharch test on me
Have you seen the beauty of the
Enticing beast
[Entreaty:] let me go
Master, I hate you so
I cannot sleep my nights
When my whole being cries
great stuff..
I’ve been trying to write songs, lately. It’s turning out okay, but posting them would be hard. Did I allready say that here? I don’ remember. Oh well.
jadestone, post- we don’t bite! we just pie, but we do that anyway, so what have you got to lose?
Umm… not much, but I don’t know how to convey the tune I’m thinking, and it souns odd with out it. Oh well, I’ll try later. Hafta go now.
Library
When I was young, the library was a place
With endless worlds of excitement and wonder
A place to read, to lose yourself
New lands waited on every shelf
As I grew older, I had less time
For things unreal. Caught up in life,
I still managed, once in a while,
To visit the place where my dreams played out.
Now I find, with great sorrow, I have read all the great books of my local library.
The inter-library loan system becomes my great comfort.
I search in the hidden nooks of the lists of titles
For fantasylands of olden times,
For the library of my youth.
November is National Novel Writing Month. Or NaNoWrimo! Yes, people around the world are writing entire novels in one month!
You should too. Check out NaNoWriMo’s website.
Oooh… sounds like fun. I wanna write a novel! But I know I won’t be able too.
81-m thank you so much for telling me about that. i am permanently and forever indebted to you!
Quietly we cling
Silently. Secretly.
to hidden hopes-
Afraid to show fear.
We never end up knowing
Is it just we who want it?
Or is it the world?
modified from an older piece:
let your dreams take ink form
pen them
at the crossrods of imagination and despair
as you write, you are ascending
past the nightmare groves
where darkness is dancing
——————————-
the leaves fall
bright, like thoughts
from the trees
i wander down the path
half-cloaked by leaves
their thoughts entering my mind
so much despair in this world
and I wonder
is there a way to hope, to fly?
reposted because it was hidden behind Fridge’s long song post
84- ooh! me likes!
Thanks e~a!
I like the metaphoricallness (not a word I know) of the leaves in your poem.
And the line about “crossroads of imagination and despair” in the top one.
I am simply one in a milllion
The smallest leaf on the tree
But those can change the world
For when the any leaf buds
We know it is spring
And when any leaf drops
We know it is autumn
So why can’t one voice
Change the world,
for once?
—————————————————————-
Falling
is not nearly as bad as it sounds
All it is
is one little drop
And a short little
yelp
The landing
is what hurts
—————————————————————-
Why can’t a bird sing in the anger of the day?
To calm us
And free us
Why can’t naptime be when we’re tired?
So that our dreams can awaken us into happiness?
And why does noise
Shriek so steadily
When beauty ceases to shine?
—————————————————————-
Days pass
Like leaves falling
Never changing
Never worrying
Only silence
Breaks my thoughts
And only sound
Relaxes it
Where is the happiness
Buried in thought?
Why does it choose to hide?
—————————————————————-
Jumping
Isn’t as fun as it looks
We only pretend because we wish we were flying
Jumping for a lifetime
isn’t as good
as soaring for an instant
So why do it?
Because we wish we could soar
Dreaming-Cat-369 – I really, really like you’re poem in 67. Seriously. “Let the music sweep you away…” I’m printing it out. I hope you do post more.
Ah! I’ve finished adding this thread to my colection. *skips off to origanal P&S thread* I still have a ways to go there.
RRR.1 fan-poetry. I’m obsessed. Shut up. Written for the Feng/Nestea pairing, and for the musician/afreet in all of us. All the weird formatting is on purpose. I don’t really like it; I’m not very good at the epic and sweeping.
Sonata (Tribute)
i. prelude
We murder because of what we cannot do.
We look to the stars to free ourselves.
We have always wanted to be someone else.
II. Allegro (c minor)
“They are coming,
they are coming,
they are coming like the desert rain.”
Catalysts, all,
not all bad.
My world shatters
and I can leave it behind.
There is nothing for me in ruins.
Catlysts.
iii. Adagio (E flat major)
we are all like ice
crackling as glass
we are content
Crushing us beneath bare feet
(wouldn’t that hurt? I ask, but you don’t bleed)
you come, and I
I lose all my self as ice becomes water.
I would do it for you.
“They are coming,
they are coming,
they are coming like the desert rain.”
Rain is water.
Tears are water.
I have melted.
I have melted.
splintered pieces on the sand
my hands are empty (though they wish it)
i will forget-lift myself
can you hear the song?
(no.)
iv. bouree
tutti. How could they betray us?
We took them in, we gave them shelter.
Make them run.
solo. If I run faster, will they stop catching up?
Like dancing: spinning, twirling,
and always held.
I am leaving, leaving my partners
with their arms open and waiting.
(He becomes a bird and flies through the curtains.)
solo. it wasn’t my fault.
they told me it would come to this.
i was born blind and deaf.
it wasn’t my fault.
(Her face is underwater, and she holds a sword.)
tutti. Run.
vi. Andante
can you hear the song?
It has changed; we have changed.
We are colder, ancient for the little time that’s passed.
I have frozen,
(and I have flown.)
There is hope still in impossibility.
Turn your eyes to reflect stars.
Feathers drift toward the ground.
If there is snow in the fortress, will it hide everything that has happened?
Let us change.
Can you hear the song?
87- I really like your first and last ones!
86- thanks!
91 – Thankies! Those are my favorites too.
I have to write some more good poems…
Here’s one:
when birds sing
hear the beauty of the voice
not the crack in the silence
when silence comes
hear what is there to hear
not the absense of what is not
music
is more valuable than riches or gold
learn to hear it
I tried lowercase letters. It’s so much different.
I don’t like the last stanza…any suggestions?
Ah – this is a bit better:
when music drifts around you
like a breeze on an autumn day
hear it for what it is
not what it should be
A line
splits
devides
us all
we have
begun
to build
a wall
making
us
feel
so small
but what
goes up
has got
to fall
94 – I love the structure of that poem! The rhymes rock as well. Yay for you!
My friend is going to love this thread. She loves to write poetry. W00t!
Thank you. On my paper, I drew a line underneath “so small” and above “but what.” It looked cool, but I didn’t think of it till after I posted. Oh well. Arg, gotta go be back to post another one later.
I wrote a few poems for school about nature, but I don’t remember them. I liked my haiku the best.
The beauty of wind
Can be described as magic
For its small light touch
This one is more of a chant, say it to a rythem or somthing.
The stars shine bright
on a silver night
so drink moonlight
for your delight
not everything
is what it seems
beware the shadows
in between
the world is flat
the world is round
so jump and twist
and turn around
and don’t be fooled
by the glint of gold
do what you wish
do as you’re told
and use your voice
but not to loud
watch where you step
you’re on a cloud
I see the sea
and it sees me
but I still don’t know
what to be
and everyone is twisting, turning
watching, yearning
listening, learning
see the fire
burning, burning
burning down
and underground
not a wisp of smoke left
on
the
ground.
98- I like it. I don’t think I’d ever be able to write that rhythmicly. It’s amazing. I like the message in it. Ever tried Slam Poetry? I haven’t but I’ve watched people do it. it’s awesome.
E~a and I are more not rhythmic, not rhyming people. We’re abstract. I like that. Jadestone is quite the opposite. She doesn’t exactly stick to the rhythm, but every rhythm she gives has a distinct pattern. And on top of that, she can rhyme. My best rhyme is “It’s rhyme time! Play the wind chime!”
I love it, Jadestone. I see what you mean about it being sort of a chant. But it’s cool no matter how you look at it.
Thanks to both of you. I feel so special. *blushes*
Actually, I havn’t writen rhyming poetry in a long time. My previous, oh, 6 poems were all free-verse. I do manage to rhyme in a few not very good poems I sort of doodle onto my papers after a quiz, but those are just random stuff. I will atempt to post the song I am writing. Wrote, I don’t really work on it any more. But lesse…here it is. It’s sort of- grrr. I have to go again. Meh. I’ll post it in my next post here.
Wow, Jadestone, that was AMAZING! I loved it–it felt like dancing.
Now I feel shy to put up my poem. Oh well.
Leaves running down the street
In a gust of wind
Peering out the window, she sees
Silken blustery words in her mind
They are the leaves.
She reaches for the sounds
But she cannot touch them.
The white trees, bare
Blowing and straining branches like bleached bones
Bending backwards
The color stripped away
And the leaves wheel down the road, past
The window of a poet
Who has no words
To paint the leaves.
She is the only one who saw
And she could not catch them
To show to the world.
I just wrote it today.
(98) Jadestone, do you know the poet John Skelton (c.1460-1529)? He’s known for the verse form called skeltonics, consisting of short lines, usually 4-6 syllables and rhyming for as long a sequence as the poet sees fit. The excerpt that follows is from “Phyllyp Sparowe,” an elegy of sorts for the death of a girl’s pet bird.
It’s interesting how both your poem and his have a chanting quality but to very different effect.
Whan I remembre agayn
How mi Philyp was slayn,
Never halfe the payne
Was betwene you twayne,
Pyramus and Thesbe,
As than befell to me:
I wept and I wayled,
The tearys downe hayled;
But nothynge it avayled
To call Phylyp agayne,
Whom Gyb our cat hath slayne.
Gyb, I saye, our cat,
Worrowyd her on that
Which I loved best:
It can not be exprest
My sorowfull hevynesse,
But all without redresse;
For within that stounde,
Halfe slumbrynge, in a sounde
I fell downe to the grounde.
I think Johnny Skelton lyked the lyttyr “Y”.
I think Johnny Skelton lyked the lyttyr “Y”.
Y not?
He wishes for the Cloths of Heaven
Had I the heavens’ embroidered cloths,
Enwrought with golden and silver light,
The blue and the dim and the dark cloths
Of night and light and the half light,
I would spread the cloths under your feet:
But I, being poor, have only my dreams;
I have spread my dreams under your feet;
Tread softly because you tread on my dreams.
— W.B. Yeats
102- that is beautiful. it is amazing. I don’t know what to say about it really, it’s just so beautiful. Good job.
We all have such talent. Except for the ones who don’t.
Like *coughcoughmecough*together
we are apart
dancing
to our separate
similar songs
apart
we are more alike
than we seem
Here’s another one that means basically the same thing except opposite:
together
we are alike
no matter how different we seem
apart
we are alone
each one dancing to our own song
so alike to those around us’
one thread
two threads
many threads
woven together
by laughter, by tears
not to be unraveld
by war or death.
alone we are weak, easily broken
but together we remain unbroken
Skeltonics? Cool. That sounds sort of like what I do… twist the format to make it fit the poem. He liked Y’s indeed. And E’s. Okay, song. It’s… sort of odd. It was just running through my head while I watched a move. It’s song by to sort of gothic-dressed people, a guy(m) and a girl(f). It’s a bit like a twist on Edgar Allan Poe’s The Raven. The girl has a sort of high voice and the guy’s is pretty high to, but lower than her’s. m denotes the male is singing, f the female.
(begining, softer, light drum taps and some bass guitar)
M:
I stand under the rain again
hoping I could some how make amends
curding myself for not endin this trend
wishing we could begin again
A bird made out of velvet night
flies off into the starless sky
and i can tell somehow, don’t ask me why
I can’t fix this no matter how hard I try
F:
The sky is crying, just like me
rain and tears meet running down my cheekss
I don’t see how this happened so suddenly
because now I feel so incompleate
a raven flies directly overhead
soaring off, away into the west
and I know I won’t get any rest
this isn’t a dream, it’s not a test
(chourus, more of a rock beat. heavy drums and guitars)
(Both, female/male)
Nevermore, nevermore
we thought it’d be forevermore
now I/you may cry and you/I may roar
but I/you can’t love you/me anymore
Nevermore, nevermore
I said I’d love you forevermore
My head is spining, my heart is torn
But we can’t go on anymore
… And that’s all I’ve got. After that, it gets softer again then graduly more intense. Hey, it’s one of the only songs I’ve ever attemppted to write, so don’t be to critical.
Ahh, Skipper has not been keeping up! Jadestone, I loved your poem, the rythm and rhyme were refreshing.
THF, I like your two opposite poems, because they contrasted to parts of the same idea.
EA, I love that Yeats poem, it’s one of my favorite, and I like the one you wrote, because of the way you used threads.
Now I would like to suggest Poetry 180 a compilation of poems collected by Billy Collins (who is a great poet himself). It’s full of nice, short-ish poems that aren’t too dense or stifling or obscure or ambiguous.
…will post a poem some time soon…
try this
next time you’re in a crowd
try this
plant your feet apart,
square your shoulders and stretch out your arms
throw back your head,
(enough so that your
eyes fall into that blue abyss, )
and shout
maximize the mileage of your vocal chords
let your sound drown out
hustleandthebustleandthemuscleandtherustle
of all those other
carbon based life forms
try being more important
for a few moments, bigger than the rest
and after, you can sink back down your conventional eye level
blush, grin sheepishly and exclaim
well, that was the silliest thing
I’ve ever done.
Bad news, I probably won’t be writing much poetry for a while. I’m using up all my writing time on Nano. ‘ll still stop by and comment, though.
Ahh, nano. Yes, I am quite far behind. Only 1000 words or so. No worries JS, I think we’re all in the same boat. Poems is always a bit of a sleepy thread anyway.
114 – Yes. I’m around there too. Actually, I’m at 2000 words. But I agree with everything else.
I don’t have anything else to post right now, because my journal for school is missing, and some cool haikus are in there. I’ll post some later.
Haikus are easy
But sometimes they don’t make sence
refrigerator
My friend told me that one…
I sit
a single light
shining through dark misty shadows
they engulf me
sadness, loss, war
but yet
I hope
116 – I don’t quite agree
With your friend, because haikus
Are hard to get right
They can be easy
If you get them right, but if
You don’t they’re so bad. ((like those ones))
Here they are, but none of them are very good, I don’t think:
Sound is beautiful
But silence can be better
When noise destroys sound.
Well, duh!
The sound of the rain
Is steady and magical
Cutting off bad thoughts
Well, isn’t that a neat thought? Not true, of course, but let us dream
A leaf drifts and falls
Floating like colored paper
In the endless sky
That one isn’t bad.
Yay! Only three, too. But well, I showed them.
(117) Lovely. I like the structure, the way it starts and ends with a short, 2 word line
(118) Those are nice haikus! The last one is wonderful. “Colored paper in an endless sky”. Nice. They are all nice.
I haven’t been in this thread since…. forever. Actually, I was lurking yesterday…but…posting today.
Be harsh. Poetry is not my forte.
Random Poem A:
My temperature, drastically low,
Varies with my mood
It changes faster than my
Every fancy
My writing is coming to a stop
Casually I try to practice
Any notes that hit me
As the pages slide away from my
Reflection which is backwards
In comparison
Falling, I fly to new
Ideas as they flash before me
Never to be remembered
As they sail through
Cracks in my skull
Slowly as I recognize
Through accidents and
Wet surfaces clear and shining
Through the night which reaches
A pink intensity brighter than
The flow of consciousness
As I write the pictures pausing by
Each blocked letter that wmears to
Forms of ice that shatter into
Twenty or so lines because
I am imagining what would happen
Right now
If I ever decided to
Shut my mind to all of them
That appeared in only a minute or so. It’s random, I know…
Another:
The water washing
Cleaning
But bringing ugly things
We’d rather not think about
To the surface
Where they lay
Rotting, bloated, pale
And we step over and around
The worm corpses
The floods are over
But their bodies
Litter the ground
Brought to you by misty rainfall yesterday…
One last piece:
Rusted snowmen march tonight
They’re burning from within
The trees are on fire, melting the snow
As they watch the floods begin
Of tears and turns for all this time
Though the wind blows it all away
A sweet Dreamland, a pantomime
By rusted snowmen
My rhyme pattern is screwed.
120- the first one is sweet. the sage is jealous as she cannot write a poem, even tho she tries very hard.
Why can’t we have a thread for just random compositions like short stories and stuff?
Thanks.
I think we have a writing thread…..
https://musefanpage.com/blog/?p=423
Ta-daaaaa!
There is no way I’ll ever be able to rhyme. Unless it’s Dr. Seuss rhyming. Which I can’t do either. But I can look through rhymezone.com and try to find rhymes that work. Only an hour a good rhyme!
Taiwan Hippo Fan
It is very easy to rhyme
You don’t need to plan
It just takes some time.
Orange rhymes with doorhenge(sorta)
Goodbye rhymes with BillNye
Apple rhymes with Snapple
you see, it’s easy, just give it a try.
Snow,
like confectioner’s sugar
falling from the sky.
Dusting
our gingerbread house
till the sweet grahm sighs.
Our candy green grass
covered white
so fast.
The candycane lightposts
they do not last.
And walking along
our gum
drop
path
is an odd little wanderer
who loves to laugh.
Waves
Hello!
with
a ginger hand
and who smiles
sweetly
across this candy filled land.
Who is he?
Why none other
than
the ginger
bread
man.
124 –
Oh, no, I can rhyme.
The problem is thus:
I don’t have the time
To create a surplus
Now do you see?
My rhymes are not bad
It’s the sense that is missing
And the thoughts to be had.
124 (again)- That’s good….:
I really do think that your “sky” should be “skies,” though.
And also – that house really should be of pies, so
When you refer to things such as that
You ought to confer to my way of looking at
The things in the world that really
aren’t flat.
Wow, I haven’t been here in ages. Y’all are amazing poets, and I love reading all your different writing styles. It’s been so long that I don’t have time to post individual comments, but a simple “I love Museblogger writers” should sum it up nicely. ♥
(this poems sort of has many phrases that are titles of books or songs.)
twisting into dreams of delirium
I fall
rising up, up
where there’s someplace to be flying
to be soaring
free,
free defying gravity
with dreams and whimsies
songs and stories
a world of my imagination
falling up into a whimsical world
I need someplace to be flying
someplace where I can defy gravity
let my dreams float freely
somewhere over a rainbow of misguided thoughts
of stereotypes
of who I should be
of who they want be to be
I need someplace to dream into delirium
to let my thoughts run free
my dreams soar
like crows ascending
towards a sun of imagination