Missingno.7-4468
The Kazuka Party is for curry!
- 513
- Posts
- 16
- Years
- Nowhere and everywhere at the same time
- Seen Sep 28, 2023
Well, I suppose that I should make a thread like this. Since I would hate to spam PC with a new thread every time I make a new poem, I'll post them here :D
Anyway...Onto the list ~
Graciousness of the Heart:
Now, anyone who pays attention to Poem of the Week should recognize this poem. Other than that, not much to say.
To be in love is a wonderful thing,
With happiness and joy, kindness and giving,
Only ending with the world, past that still
Going on and on, only by will.
To be in love makes you sing a song,
A song of joy to be with whom you belong,
Through this life and past that too
With a single person, love will brew.
Through the darkest storms and brightest days,
Love is the meaning behind everyone's ways.
Through love only can a life be finished,
Nothing can interfere, be it fate or wish.
Through the years and many more,
Love gets only stronger, each other you adore.
To always be with someone, the meaning thereof
The joys and hopes of something called love.
The Calming of a Storm
Okay, this is an Italian sonnet I made a while back for Poem of the Week, but I forgot that I could judge, so I didn't enter it. Anyway, the poem is pretty much exactly how I feel when a storm starts.
A Perfect World
This poem is kind of a pantoum I wrote to challenge myself. I personally don't like it, but I'm posting it because I've gotten good remarks on it.
Threadbare Love
Another poem I wrote for PotW. I'm not very proud of it, but I suppose I should post it. Not much to say about it. Other than it was inspired by Dolly Parton's "Coat of Many Colors."
This coat I wear is torn and tattered,
Worn down, beaten, and battered.
I've had it for years, since I was young,
When I was simple, heedless, and unstrung.
Despite its age, I still can wear
This coat, though it's threadbare.
It must be quite a sight, me in this coat,
You'd think, of others, I would take note.
I will still walk with it on my back,
For without it my glow would lack.
I sometimes get joked about and teased,
But with myself I am pleased.
This coat is special, made with love,
And this I am proud of.
It makes me happy just to wear it,
Through it is torn and nearly split.
Boiling Blood
This poem was made fairly randomly a few days ago. It's pretty much how I feel about anger. And that's really all I have to say about it.
So yeah, that's all the poetry I have for now. If you have any thoughts or comments/criticism, please post. :D
Anyway...Onto the list ~
Graciousness of the Heart:
Now, anyone who pays attention to Poem of the Week should recognize this poem. Other than that, not much to say.
Spoiler:
To be in love is a wonderful thing,
With happiness and joy, kindness and giving,
Only ending with the world, past that still
Going on and on, only by will.
To be in love makes you sing a song,
A song of joy to be with whom you belong,
Through this life and past that too
With a single person, love will brew.
Through the darkest storms and brightest days,
Love is the meaning behind everyone's ways.
Through love only can a life be finished,
Nothing can interfere, be it fate or wish.
Through the years and many more,
Love gets only stronger, each other you adore.
To always be with someone, the meaning thereof
The joys and hopes of something called love.
The Calming of a Storm
Okay, this is an Italian sonnet I made a while back for Poem of the Week, but I forgot that I could judge, so I didn't enter it. Anyway, the poem is pretty much exactly how I feel when a storm starts.
Spoiler:
The trees and shrubs do wave their arms at me,
The grasses moan in howling wind around.
The soaking rain has softened hardened ground,
The lightning screams in thund'ring plea.
The stroke of falling leaves is guarantee:
The storm is here, the violent winds abound.
And as I look through endless woods around,
A haunting sight inspires wond'rous glee.
I look through window pane and glass
To see a storm with casu'l, limping gait.
I look at flying leaves and waving grass.
The tempest very soon will make its pass.
The storm has done what was its fate,
And falls to sleep as I must, oh, alas.
The grasses moan in howling wind around.
The soaking rain has softened hardened ground,
The lightning screams in thund'ring plea.
The stroke of falling leaves is guarantee:
The storm is here, the violent winds abound.
And as I look through endless woods around,
A haunting sight inspires wond'rous glee.
I look through window pane and glass
To see a storm with casu'l, limping gait.
I look at flying leaves and waving grass.
The tempest very soon will make its pass.
The storm has done what was its fate,
And falls to sleep as I must, oh, alas.
A Perfect World
This poem is kind of a pantoum I wrote to challenge myself. I personally don't like it, but I'm posting it because I've gotten good remarks on it.
Spoiler:
A perfect world, how great it sounds,
But I don't think the world could get better,
By this I mean that the ties and bounds
Of our current world are adequete fetters.
To state it simply, what I mean,
A perfect world, though how great it sounds,
Would really be too strict and stickling,
With outrageous ties and bounds.
If the world's chaos is your thought,
Let me put it simply, not being mean;
Would this society be for naught,
Being so strict and stickling?
Now thank the mess, bedlam, and furor,
I know that's the chaos you have thought,
Is the true cause of the uproar.
Such a society would be for naught.
I still think the world can't be better,
I thank the mess, bedlam, and furor,
Which really are the reason for fetters,
Which are true reason for the uproar.
But I don't think the world could get better,
By this I mean that the ties and bounds
Of our current world are adequete fetters.
To state it simply, what I mean,
A perfect world, though how great it sounds,
Would really be too strict and stickling,
With outrageous ties and bounds.
If the world's chaos is your thought,
Let me put it simply, not being mean;
Would this society be for naught,
Being so strict and stickling?
Now thank the mess, bedlam, and furor,
I know that's the chaos you have thought,
Is the true cause of the uproar.
Such a society would be for naught.
I still think the world can't be better,
I thank the mess, bedlam, and furor,
Which really are the reason for fetters,
Which are true reason for the uproar.
Threadbare Love
Another poem I wrote for PotW. I'm not very proud of it, but I suppose I should post it. Not much to say about it. Other than it was inspired by Dolly Parton's "Coat of Many Colors."
Spoiler:
This coat I wear is torn and tattered,
Worn down, beaten, and battered.
I've had it for years, since I was young,
When I was simple, heedless, and unstrung.
Despite its age, I still can wear
This coat, though it's threadbare.
It must be quite a sight, me in this coat,
You'd think, of others, I would take note.
I will still walk with it on my back,
For without it my glow would lack.
I sometimes get joked about and teased,
But with myself I am pleased.
This coat is special, made with love,
And this I am proud of.
It makes me happy just to wear it,
Through it is torn and nearly split.
Boiling Blood
This poem was made fairly randomly a few days ago. It's pretty much how I feel about anger. And that's really all I have to say about it.
Spoiler:
Thunder is heard, and lightning flash
As red rain flows in boiling splash
This storm is far from normal, it lies inside
Of the deepest trench of my mind.
I build up walls so it can stop,
But it only flows faster, shaking the prop
That keeps me clear and sane.
'Twould be my only bane...
If this storm broke loose from constraints,
So leaving others for it to taint.
And as it nearly breaks free,
I put up my last defense, for now at least
This storm I fear; it rises on its own,
I feel like I should be all alone,
So to never see the light of day,
So to never another slay.
As red rain flows in boiling splash
This storm is far from normal, it lies inside
Of the deepest trench of my mind.
I build up walls so it can stop,
But it only flows faster, shaking the prop
That keeps me clear and sane.
'Twould be my only bane...
If this storm broke loose from constraints,
So leaving others for it to taint.
And as it nearly breaks free,
I put up my last defense, for now at least
This storm I fear; it rises on its own,
I feel like I should be all alone,
So to never see the light of day,
So to never another slay.
So yeah, that's all the poetry I have for now. If you have any thoughts or comments/criticism, please post. :D
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