Creative Writing Thread

One of my latest poems:

Some have crazy faces, dead eyes, dark
Under light, but without evil, just crazy, a smile
Wound tightly on their skin to emulate a
Friendly demeanor otherwise left behind the
Stone sanded features (statuesque), leather
Bound on a predetermined figure, with the
Similarities of being, but without the life
Of movement, though it does animate suddenly,
Randomly, with generic notes, joints squeaking
Under the pressure of the bolted together form,
Carrying the structure heavily through the
Motions, but uncoordinated with the emotions
Normally found, solid formation of lines in the
Corners of the mouth indicate happy and sad,
The raising and lowering of drawbridge eyebrows
Let in the invading confusion and excitement
That may appear on the blank screen, It’s power
Limited to facilitate feelings to familiar, more
Dramatic cousins who were brought into this
World through similar creation and commencement
Of events. What confuses these connections
Between meta-souls and cerebral announcements,
Leaving the creature slated of expression?

 

One of my band's songs done off of a digital camera:

 

You wanted it, lets get to posting people.


I think I have put this up before:


Ancient Words


A single man does not create


War, nor will he destroy it.


One may be the tiger, but


One is the tyrant.


Is it better to live under the


Tiger who kills only when hungry,


Or to live with the tyrant


Who murders because he can?


Those who fear the tiger


Say, "He is wrong," but they


Are holding the guns.


Those who fear the tyrant say,


"We can do nothing," because


He is holding the guns.


Throw your guns down, if


You are the ones holding them,


The tiger does not possess you, only


His stripes and silver jaw are law.


Throw only sticks and stones,


Those who the tyrant can control,


For he is more fear filled than the tiger,


But not of wounds or death.


The system may be allowed to be


Broken down at the hands of a few,


But, a single man does not create war.

 

Well, I just dug up some of my old poetry. Been around 7 years since I wrote any, and some of these are a decade old...


First, one that the fellas can relate to:


VENUS

Venus


Birthplace of females and flytraps.


The same galactic accent


Rolls off their sweet lips.


So what are flys and guys to do?


Landing and liking it.


Linger too long and no longer can you leave.


Venusians dissolve


What you used to be.


Book me on the next shuttle back to Mars.

​

 

Tact

A change in manipulation is all it is.


From crying to .


From knocking over blocks to knocking out the small print.


How old are you again?


You should act your age.


Harsh action is countered by harsh reaction


But a dagger in a pillow lies closer to the throat.


And a blade composed of syllables tends to pierce the most.


And a blade composed of syllables tends to pierce the most.

​

 

I’m not a writer, or a poet


Or a scholar


And I know it


A simple man


Happy in my skin


I don’t pretend


Stupid, till the end

​

I just made that up :icon_confused:

 

Do limericks count?


There once was a man from Nantucket........nahh.


There once was a lady from Wheeling


Whose face tits and ass were appealing


There she did sit


justa diddlin' her clit


and she squirted all over the ceiling.

 

rofl mr. D. im gonna go on about my day with a shagrin on muh face.

 

Rose are red,


Violets are canny,


Open ya legs,


N a'll tickle ya fanny!

 

Rose's are red


Violet's are blue


Mine are black


And lacy, too!!

 

This is why we do not have a creative writing forum. I tried.

 

It's about panties!!

 

It's OK Lion, don't despair......yours & SeraphimZeta's poems were great, it's just that some of us weren't actually born with the creative poem writing gene, we got a naughty funnybone instead!!


Keep the thread going & post another one!!!

 

Oh I will, I was just being silly! I liked yalls funnybone-poems too!


I know there are some others out there who want to put their work out to play.

 

Oh, ! I thought you may have missed the possession apostrophe!!


It's not mine, I have no idea who wrote that, just liked that one!


I also enjoy this Dorothy Parker one:


I like to have a martini,


Two at the very most.


After three I'm under the table,


After four I'm under my host.


I wish I could write poetry, but I've never been very good at the ol' Haiku or any other poetic form!!

 

If you can't beat 'em...


I fucked an old gal in the graveyard,


God damn her old soul she was dead.


The maggots crawled out of her asshole,


and the hair slipped off of her head.


When I finished my job there,


I'd seen I'd committed sin,


so out of my pocket I drew me a straw


and I sucked out that load I shot in!


That's not mine. That's from the genius of the 2 Live Crew.

 

The cat knows not of love


She chooses when pleasure


Is begot and lavishes in


The sensation of a hand.


Fully stretching from the


Awakening of a nap, recharged,


Ready to attack the hidden


Dangers the Master can not


See. For the reward he


Takes her into crossed arms,


Smoothing the fur carefully,


Being sure of a purr and


Not a hiss. She leaps from


The grasp, cleaning the coat


With condescending laps.


But the day of laziness


Leaves her longing for the


Treat recently negated. And


Though the master is busy,


She still receives the love,


Until deciding there has


Been enough, and returns,


Alone, to the floor.

 

An old piece.


[FONT='ﾌ']When nature was real[/FONT]


[FONT='ﾌ']those firefly summer evenings[/FONT]


[FONT='ﾌ']last light along the[/FONT]


[FONT='ﾌ']edge of woods we chased[/FONT]


[FONT='ﾌ']at shadows[/FONT]


[FONT='ﾌ']pulled at them[/FONT]


[FONT='ﾌ']pulled at ourselves[/FONT]


[FONT='ﾌ']swimming in the green[/FONT]


[FONT='ﾌ']deep blue grass coolness[/FONT]


[FONT='ﾌ']chasing christmas light sparkles[/FONT]


[FONT='ﾌ']songs like smooth round[/FONT]


[FONT='ﾌ']stones from the beach[/FONT]


[FONT='ﾌ']dancing years & years[/FONT]


[FONT='ﾌ']blackbirds screaming[/FONT]


[FONT='ﾌ']we spin faster[/FONT]


[FONT='ﾌ']( dark yellow dandelions )[/FONT]


[FONT='ﾌ']the small children[/FONT]


[FONT='ﾌ']always have the best[/FONT]


[FONT='ﾌ']rituals[/FONT]


[FONT='ﾌ']( the dandelions cry in ecstasy )[/FONT]


[FONT='ﾌ']Soap blue dresses whirl[/FONT]


[FONT='ﾌ']past toadstool serenades[/FONT]


[FONT='ﾌ']& perfumed applause[/FONT]


[FONT='ﾌ']the deer gently[/FONT]


[FONT='ﾌ']acknowledge this beauty[/FONT]


[FONT='ﾌ']the trees nod their approval[/FONT]


[FONT='ﾌ']we laughed & laughed[/FONT]


[FONT='ﾌ']into the night[/FONT]

 

For my 200th post I will share one of my poems written many years ago.


A Game


A child was born into a world of hunger and hate.


His parents knew nothing, it was just a mistake.


They felt it was wrong to bring him in now,


But they couldn't give up, they didn't know how.


Through school he fought and finally pervailed.


As an adult he won, and then finally failed.


Now he is gone and laid to rest.


The last words he spoke were, " I've done my best".


The child is gone for all time to come.


His memory lives on, at least in some.


I ask you know to remember his name,


For all the childern to come it will be no more than a game.


And...


I didn't write this one, but I love it thought it should be shared.


Anyone can achive thier fullest potental.


Who we are might be predetermined,


but the path we follow is always of our own choosing.


We should never allow our fears or the


expectations of others to set the frontiers of our destiny.


Your destiny can't be changed, but it can be challenged.


Every man is born as many men.


And dies as a single one.