Now once there was a story of a plight,
Of a man that spoke of great fright.
He stood on the corner
Like a small stature mourner
...
It is my belief,
That you have been held captive
in the City of Angels.
Angels force you to model and
...
Love is an understatement
of what I have for you.
It’s a shame the word is so extreme
Because what we have is
...
I wish that I could pick up a guitar
And play a song for you that's beautiful.
Each chord would melt you 'til your eyes were pools
And you would glow as if you were a star!
...
Don't rhyme, Poetry.
Our thoughts and tongues don't think that way.
Steer clear of meter, sweet Poetry.
I'm tired of counting and scanning.
...
You rare, odd beauty.
How can something like you
Insist on confusing not only
My mind, but the minds of others?
...
Now what can be more beautiful than her
Soft face? I’ve thought and thought about it long.
Not even fields of daffodils or song
Can measure to the light she brings I’m sure.
...
My ears and memory
are the encyclopedia to the sounds you make.
The grunts, moans, laughs, and sighs are all listed
In alphabetical order starting from
...
From a martyr’s point of view,
I’ve messed up things countless times.
Some you’ve noticed, some you haven’t.
But what keeps me in awe,
...
Maybe my admiration
For Jacques Brel
Lies solely in the fact
That I can’t understand him
...
These hands,
calloused and dry
like my sense of humor
are scarred and tremble
...
Now I know how my mother felt
I cannot pull out of this driveway,
I ask you: Please put on your seatbelt.
...
A pirate searched for a treasure,
'Twas all he thought about.
He knew it'd bring him pleasure
And flustered, he let out a shout!
...
Does the bird know the song
it sings by heart?
Or does it simply whistle it's tune
Different from the start?
...
I’ve come to realize
That the Beatles are an
Over-rated British band
Without you singing along with them
...
1.
Open your eyes and
you will see, the rights and truth
of a Country, free.
...
Dearly beloved,
We gather here today to witness
In fact two dearly beloveds.
...
When we travel the world
I’ll be sure to bring a camera.
That way I can say I’ve seen
Beautiful places,
...
Buses don't have
random drawings telling you
where you're going.
They especially don't accept
...
Hey everyone! I'm 18 and live in a up-in-coming town called El Centro. Well i've been writing poetry for about two years now. Not to toot my own horn, but it just comes really naturally to me. My mom (who sadly was my English Teacher) taught me all the elements of poetry which i already know completely by heart. Some of my poems are good, some aren't. It's like sports, ya win some ya lose some. I also notice that i have Amadeus syndrome where i really don't like to change what i've written. I'm completely open to suggestions and criticisms. Thank everyone soooo much! i really appreciate it.)
Anecdotal Poem
Now once there was a story of a plight,
Of a man that spoke of great fright.
He stood on the corner
Like a small stature mourner
And made sure that he struck up a sight.
He stood and deluded
The mind, and alluded
Of a time where there would be terror.
So he spoke of the secular
And the dissipation was spectacular
For his crowd had spotted his error.
For although he was crude
And also quite rude
This small stature dude
Was also stark nude.
Your style hopefully will pull in more poets someday soon.: D I hope mine does. And not just poets but other things too. People relie on others for inspiration, so lets give it to em!
Your poems are quite profound. Something about them rings.