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The Poets Laureate: [Please Lock]


Raelen

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[spoiler=Unnamed Poem]

I know why the lone wolf howls' date='

I know why the lone wolf prowls,

I know why the lone wolf cries,

It's all alone, and then it dies.

 

 

 

[spoiler=Unnamed Poem 2']

The loneliness is setting in,

My torment will soon begin,

When she is sad it makes me cry,

To make her happy I would die.

 

 

 

Fxd

 

"This is how I feel, I cannot lie" was actually in place of "To make her happy I would die", but I thought it threw off the poem.

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For her....

 

Even though I know

That right now we can't be

I thought I should show

You that caring side of me.

 

Even though I know

That we can't be for long

I can't take that blow.

But I know that Im not wrong.

 

Even though I know

That I love you so much.

The thought fills me with woe.

That all I can think of is such.

 

Even though I know

That I must compete for you

I know that I can't just go.

Now, I know more than I knew.

 

Even though I know

That my passion's not weak

It just hurts so low.

And the future looks bleak.

 

Even though I know

That we were meant to be

You're burned in me, so

I try much harder than he...

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[spoiler=For her....]

 

Even though I know

That right now we can't be

I thought I should show

You that caring side of me.

 

Even though I know

That we can't be for long

I can't take that blow.

But I know that Im not wrong.

 

Even though I know

That I love you so much.

The thought fills me with woe.

That all I can think of is such.

 

Even though I know

That I must compete for you

I know that I can't just go.

Now' date=' I know more than I knew.

 

Even though I know

That my passion's not weak

It just hurts so low.

And the future looks bleak.

 

Even though I know

That we were meant to be

You're burned in me, so

I try much harder than he...

 

[/quote']

 

Um, seems a bit out of rhythm. And the words that you use to rhyme are not the best choices. Maybe do some work on this?

 

@ .:Haruki:.: I like it! I wrote a poem kinda like that, called "Drip."

^_^

 

@ Supreme GM: You are in!

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ya I already know I will use that poem for open mike tomorrow

 

.:Notice:.

To the people who are stuck in their Fairy Tales

Wake up and smell the roses

Your dream is over

In fact it might as well be dead

Sorry to say but you have no happy ending

You are just going to end up dieing like everyone else

The shining in your lovers eyes is just greed and envy

They only want you dead like the rest

So just give up and surrender

So says the world.

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ya I already know I will use that poem for open mike tomorrow

 

.:Notice:.

To the people who are stuck in their Fairy Tales

Wake up and smell the roses

Your dream is over

In fact it might as well be dead

Sorry to say but you have no happy ending

You are just going to end up dieing like everyone else

The shining in your lovers eyes is just greed and envy

They only want you dead like the rest

So just give up and surrender

So says the world.

 

Wow! Dark! Hopefully no one commits suicide because of this poem. 0_o

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In this narrow street

Theres nothing but hate.

Nothing to see.

No way to relate.

 

Hate is personal.

It gets in your face.

You dont understand.

Just pick up the pace.

 

As much as we cry

Nothing gets done.

At least now we can say

They lost and we won.

 

But there are no winners.

Not in this war.

Even though we won

We never get far.

 

-randomsuckypoem

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Head splattered bones bashed

Skull and membrane mashed

Thats me in 40 years past

Its just me trying to hold back

My minds all wack

Like the pastor and his own @$$

Cuz he cant even afford to own cash

Thats why i got smashed

and i ll still hack

at people and steal their crap

And im still an angel with no hat

My minds quick ill always strike back

I ll shoot you so quick you wont say "gasp!"

Then open a coke and toss the red cap

And make an album with no rap.

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[align=center]

[spoiler=[b]The Devil's Glare[/b]]

It's dark, I'm looking out my window

Staring at the devil's glare

I see two red candles glowing

In the place in which I stare

 

I see his horns erected from

The bright-red house, which is his skin

His bulky arms are herbless shrubs

That breathe and grow and makes him grin

 

His teeth hang from the front door sill

So palesome white it blinds my stair

And like my eyes, I feel grasped

Within the claws of thorns that tear

 

I see the hand, then, grasp a staff

Of fiery, bloody crimson red

The points in which come off the end

I feel it will chop off my head

 

So then I close my bedroom blinds

And pray to God for all my sins

I realize the devil's gone

And that this poem is at it's fin.

 

 

[spoiler=[b]I Stand in the Middle of a War[/b]]

I stand in the middle of a war

I hear guns and explosions roar

And all for what? Some complications

Of politics between a few nations?

 

 

[/align]

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I am sorry for my absence but' date=' I had to be gone, for, certain reasons. Anyways, while I was gone, what has happened? If anything, happened?

[/quote']

 

More poems have been submitted...A lot of 'em. >.>

 

Anywho, I entered my poem 'Glory' into a contest. Think it's worth up to $25,000? ^_^

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People all talk of his legend.

Not yet knowing what about.

They don't understand a thing.

But still no one dares to doubt.

 

His story is told far and wide.

It is told to all the children.

A false legacy holds no honour.

Think of it once and again.

 

But unlike most of them

I actually know the truth.

None of them even have a clue

That they are the twisted youth.

 

A man brought up upon a lie.

Now pays for it, with his life.

A liar now without a word.

And to all just brings strife.

 

I did not pull a sword from stone.

Neither did he, so we believe.

But a sword from stone was pulled.

How can we yet be so naive?

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Guest Supreme Gamesmaster

On most of the poems yet shared:

 

 

Of poetry a poem now I write:

For poetry these days, it seems, is rife

With tales of vile transgressions on what's right;

Of misery, of woe, sorrow, and strife!

 

Eventually a poet then demands:

For what are such abhorrent things detailed?

Doth pleasure not flow through a poet's hands?

Is pain all human nature ever hailed?

 

Now I a poem write for happiness:

For love, birdsong, for interaction and

For joy as when a baby first is dressed

And smiling, toddles, holding Mother's hand.

 

Consider joy, when next you're called upon

To write the author's everlasting song.

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On most of the poems yet shared:

 

 

Of poetry a poem now I write:

For poetry these days' date=' it seems, is rife

With tales of vile transgressions on what's right;

Of misery, of woe, sorrow, and strife!

 

Eventually a poet then demands:

For what are such abhorrent things detailed?

Doth pleasure not flow through a poet's hands?

Is pain all human nature ever hailed?

 

Now I a poem write for happiness:

For love, birdsong, for interaction and

For joy as when a baby first is dressed

And smiling, toddles, holding Mother's hand.

 

Consider joy, when next you're called upon

To write the author's everlasting song.

[/quote']

 

Very nice! I love the older language!

Great one!

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Guest Supreme Gamesmaster

Thank you very much. ^_^ Sonnets are really hard; makes you appreciate Shakespeare all the better.

 

@Hunter: I really like it, but there are some extra words in there that, again, detract from the meaning and throw off the meter (example: "yet" in the last line). Try and take those out.

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Silence

 

When a storm goes by

When a cat meows

When a dog barks

When an engine sounds

When a gun fires

All I hear is silence

For I am deaf

 

Death

Death

It happens to everyone

Some are murdered

Some die peacefully

While others die from storms

It's tragic

Very very tragic

 

 

i hope you like these.

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Guest Supreme Gamesmaster

Silence is epic.

 

Death... not so much. The simplicity of Silence enhances its quality, as silence is, in quintessence, total audio simplicity. Death, however, is painfully complex; the poem seems far too light for the topic. Doesn't carry nearly as much weight as Silence before it, and seems almost childish.

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