An outlet for players whose creativity extends beyond the board. Post your original works here!
The posting of song lyrics is not the purpose of this board and as such please refrain from doing so. Exceptions can be made to this rule if you are the copyrighted owner of the lyrics and the lyrics are not found offensive by the majority of the population. This board is a place to post your original works of poetry and prose and also a place for discussion of poetry and related areas.
We have received word from Fencer that other's poetry can be posted to this board. These are the two conditions: 1) When someone posts a known copyrighted poem, he must add the author's name as well 2) If the author is not known, the poem can be posted without problems
Véčet klobu na mloveni
Néni tě dovoleny datlovat do toďteho klobo. Abes mohl datlovat do toďteho klobo, mosiš mit némiň členstvi Brain šiml.
The kite flew all around As long as it didn't fly down The wind was strong The kite tale long The crossbars were sturdy Yet,the whole kite was jerky I tuged once to hard on its string And the kite,I didn't cling It floated miles away And I can't find it to this day But I had it,oh so high As it escaped,I cried
he old man stared at me His white hair,I could see Then,he would look another way To light of the suns ray Into a dirty window glass To the trains that would pass Lookin back at me again Smiling his demonic grin I moved towards the guy Don't even ask me why? 'Sir,is there something I can do, Are you sick or just blue?' The man looked out at the arrived train Looking at the passengers in vain 'Dear son,I don't mean you harm, Please,dont mean you harm, I have the sweetest girl your age Who I've not seen a while on that train' There she was,all dressed in white And the old man enbraced her with might I boarded the train and paid my fare The man and his daughter,I showed no care
My mistress' eyes are nothing like the sun; Coral is far more red than her lips' red; If snow be white, why then her breasts are dun; If hairs be wires, black wires grow on her head. I have seen roses damask'd, red and white, But no such roses see I in her cheeks; And in some perfumes is there more delight Than in the breath that from my mistress reeks. I love to hear her speak, yet well I know That music hath a far more pleasing sound; I grant I never saw a goddess go; My mistress, when she walks, treads on the ground: And yet, by heaven, I think my love as rare As any she belied with false compare.
The white dogwood,growing in abundance With its red wounds for our messiahs suffering Areso very elegant and bright for my glance To my feelng heart,this plant would be king If I were to place a bundle in a beauty's hand And place a nice kiss upon her cheek She'd place me as a very radiant man My heart and those white dogwood she'd keep 'Why not give the girl roses?' You may ask A thorny stem lays under it's petals A very painful hold of spears,she'd grasp All the leaves and sharp needles Though,giving roses over dogwood is most known Dogwood stands out as being different And more hollier than the sweet red rose For CHRIST was naied to it,to save our sins
I am sorry to announce that unfortunately happened to me something unexpected and sad in my life and with great sadness in my heart I can not come here anymore, so I wish the best for everyone and good luck in your games .. please forgive me any inconvenience I have caused.
A bug landed on my fuzzy arm Though I twitched,it showed no harm With the speed of my hand,I did slap But that insect moved to my lap I missed that little bug And the hairs on my knees,it tugged The tingle on my skin affected the mind And that little bug,I wanted to grind Over my shoulder,because I was slow, I grabed a swatter and gave a mighty blow I brushed it off and looked away On the floor,that bugger laid
”it’s just a stupid band.” Yeah sure it’s ‘just a stupid band’ but you know what that ‘stupid band’ was there when you weren’t. that ‘stupid band’ explained how I felt through lyrics. that ‘stupid band’ made me laugh,cry,smile and have the ability to change mood easily. that ‘stupid band’ means more to me than most people I know. And you know what? That ‘stupid band’ saved my life.
The Devil and I had it out on the grass Yet,GOD was there so I kicked his***** But the devil never gave up his clawing fight And the Lord gave me the power of a knight As the devil gave up,I was the champ He left for his Hell and I was meek as a lamb
What life holds I will not know? As time gets darker Yet,I'll hold my head high And I will realize That it all gets greater When the chips are down Forget this frown As war rides over peace I'll look for the strenth That my heart will make Over Lucifer,the beast How we run our life? Hold thy GOD up high I'll plot my goals For all the lost souls If I start,I'll end my plight
The kite flew all around As long as it didn't fly down The wind was strong The kite tale long The crossbars were sturdy Yet,the whole kite was jerky I tuged once to hard on its string And the kite,I didn't cling It floated miles away And I can't find it to this day But I had it,oh so high As it escaped,I cried
'Jump,jump'yelled the pilot, 'Or you shall suffer by fire I,in a chute,was thrown like a slingshot Through a massive rain of crossfire After a forced tug,on my weak frame I floated gracefully at the air,I cut And the plane and pilot were aflame And the rain of bullets,I could not duck As I hit the ground,just like the plane I limp several times yet I'm fine My senses confused of a bleak terrain Where,there sits a shadow on the sky As I walked towards it,there sat a German tamk Just sitting on the desert so dead Left by them escaping'us yanks' To the sea these Germans fled In pride,I started the damn thing up I figured,who'd mind my steal? What it was,was a German frameup For there stood an armed German in the field As I steered the wild piece of machinery The German was firing his gun I became amused at the loony's galantry I soon had this guy on the run' I must kill this guy'I thought Till out he flung a grenade This was a very surpising onslaught In my iron coffin,ready made Of course,I died and am glad to be in heaven Yet,I just had to tell this tale For our young people,who've forgotten This bloody war I had unveiled
How did I get in this cavern Along a winding wash? Blanketed by the desert dust Out of gas, hungry, and lost With, maybe, a days supply of water And my vehicle being my refuge And, maybe, a few leftovers for dinner I pray a rescue person comes soon With this cold tonight, I'll sacrifice Along with coyotes howling in chorus And the infestation of hungry flies I'll try to be courageous
By the next heated morn I ached from my only bed And my clothes were well-worn And I rubbed the tension in my neck Drinking my last drops of water I head out for civilization Tied a rag around my head to prevent burn And to soak up any perspiration Hours upon hours past, nothing Only desert upon desert And came across to the rockies But all my watery eyes saw were blures Was happy as a helicopter came And flew this beat up body home And I shall never forget the day Of the walk inthe deserts, I'd roam
Running through the mountains Tramping through the woods I saw a rugged hunter Drinking his secret brew Down from the mountain A wolf came near And surprized the hunter And bit him on the rear His blood started pouring All over the camp And I ran from there As fast as I can Running through the mountains Running through the woods I hurried on from there As fast as I could
See�the house on Friers Bay, Where the children love to play? Yet in it's beauty,roams a killer, In the presents of your sight,a chiller. What makes the children so brave, And the old folks so gray? Even after six years of quiet, The people knew the houses plight. One time,there was the loudest scream, The most horrid nightmare,youd dream. On the morn,next day, A tortured and beaten corpse lay. Nobody could solve the crime, No weapons or clues,they didn't find. To this day,since that year, This community lives in fear. They know screams are still heard, But not a soul admits the murmur.
I like a good mystery To hold me in suspence So bloody and eerie In any old print I like the clues And the game of it So I may be amused And to check my wit Along with Holmes And Agatha Christie Through London I'd roam Boy,I like a good mystery
“To err is human; to forgive, divine.” Alexander Pope (1688-1744) English poet The popular saying created by line 525 of Pope’s poem An Essay on Criticism, Part II (1711) In the original poem, as published in 1711, the line is given as “To err is humane; to forgive, divine.” This is not because Pope erred in his spelling or believed that making a mistake was a compassionate thing to do. At the time, humane was the common spelling used for the word human.
A cloud was on the mind of men, and wailing went the weather, Yea, a sick cloud upon the soul when we were boys together. Science announced nonentity and art admired decay; The world was old and ended: but you and I were gay; Round us in antic order their crippled vices came -- Lust that had lost its laughter, fear that had lost its shame. Like the white lock of Whistler, that lit our aimless gloom, Men showed their own white feather as proudly as a plume. Life was a fly that faded, and death a drone that stung; The world was very old indeed when you and I were young. They twisted even decent sin to shapes not to be named: Men were ashamed of honour; but we were not ashamed. Weak if we were and foolish, not thus we failed, not thus; When that black Baal blocked the heavens he had no hymns from us Children we were -- our forts of sand were even as weak as eve, High as they went we piled them up to break that bitter sea. Fools as we were in motley, all jangling and absurd, When all church bells were silent our cap and beds were heard.
Not all unhelped we held the fort, our tiny flags unfurled; Some giants laboured in that cloud to lift it from the world. I find again the book we found, I feel the hour that flings Far out of fish-shaped Paumanok some cry of cleaner things; And the Green Carnation withered, as in forest fires that pass, Roared in the wind of all the world ten million leaves of grass; Or sane and sweet and sudden as a bird sings in the rain -- Truth out of Tusitala spoke and pleasure out of pain. Yea, cool and clear and sudden as a bird sings in the grey, Dunedin to Samoa spoke, and darkness unto day. But we were young; we lived to see God break their bitter charms. God and the good Republic come riding back in arms: We have seen the City of Mansoul, even as it rocked, relieved -- Blessed are they who did not see, but being blind, believed.
This is a tale of those old fears, even of those emptied hells, And none but you shall understand the true thing that it tells -- Of what colossal gods of shame could cow men and yet crash, Of what huge devils hid the stars, yet fell at a pistol flash. The doubts that were so plain to chase, so dreadful to withstand -- Oh, who shall understand but you; yea, who shall understand? The doubts that drove us through the night as we two talked amain, And day had broken on the streets e'er it broke upon the brain. Between us, by the peace of God, such truth can now be told; Yea, there is strength in striking root and good in growing old. We have found common things at last and marriage and a creed, And I may safely write it now, and you may safely read.
"The heat we've been a havin' ain't necessarily pleasin', but there ain't no snow in the tomato patch, and there ain't nobody freezin'. It's only in the 90's, and the fishin's fairly good, so I figure summer's goin' pretty much the way it should.
"The squirrels are workin' the hick'ries, and somewhere's it's a rainin', so I'll wait 'til we get our share, and you won't hear me complainin'. Life is great on this old farm, and I ain't a gonna whine, cause as long as I can catch some fish, then things is goin' fine.
"Ma's cannin' is nigh over, 'til the apples come to ripen, I can't figure why that woman's always sittin' 'round and gripin'. I'd take her out a fishin', if she'd promise to be quite, but when she's rantin' and a rarin' I can't get the fish to bite.
"So if your lookin' for some good advice, I'm just the man to give it... I say summer won't be wasted, 'less you just forget to live it. There's a sunset that's worth seein' and the sky is full of stars, there's the sound of water flowin' over river gravel bars.
"There's fireflies o'er the meadows, summer flowers here and there, and I can hear a bullfrog beller, and a hoot owl off somewhere. When tomorrow comes a dawnin' its likely to be hot, but I can say that even if it is, I druther see it... than not.
"There's cooler days a comin', us old-timers can remember, but let's waste no days of August whilst we're waitin' on September. If your pinin' for a better time, just listen when I say, it may be all we got, so just enjoy today. God sends us autumn's beauty, He sends the springtime dew, He made the birds, He made the bugs, and He made August too."