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THIS THREAD IS FOR PEOPLE TO POST FAVORITE AND/OR FUNNY POEMS,

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FEEL FREE TO ADD POEMS YOU HAVE CREATED OR JUST POEMS YOU LIKE

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[iCODE]by:[/iCODE] cRAYz
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[iCODE]by:[/iCODE] *Unknown*
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[iCODE]by:[/iCODE] William Butler Yeats
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[iCODE]by:[/iCODE] Dean T. Johnson
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[iCODE]by:[/iCODE] Dean T. Johnson
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[iCODE]by:[/iCODE] Janor
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[iCODE]by:[/iCODE] TGx
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Edited by MissKitti
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Posted (edited)

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[attachment=1492:name]
[attachment=1493:name]

1. [iCODE]SACRIFICE[/iCODE]


They drove HER up on the Shoreline,
a small SACRIFICE, ...
Against, the BIG-BIG picture
and Waifs, CARVED their initials
on Her fractured ribs.

And They Tore Her masts
and scattered Her rigging
a small sacrifice
against the big picture
and Waifs, carved their initials
on her SHATTERED ribs.


[iCODE]WRITTEN BY[/iCODE]: D.T JOHNSON

2. *[iCODE]UNTITLED[/iCODE]*


We peel the skin in sheets
exposing tendons, bone & meat.

Squat on haunches, grin and eat
mayhap life is then complete.

I've always known
we are but meat.


[iCODE]WRITTEN BY[/iCODE]: D.T JOHNSON

3. [iCODE]UNKNOWN TITLE[/iCODE]


Whole Pussy out
dirt in my mouth

I sing a little ditty
as I stroll down South

Bone removal, without approval.
I found your name & address on the Google.


[iCODE]AUTHOR[/iCODE]: UNKNOWN

TUEA.png.ffc8b62840125d9816683e6f6377cf62.png

TUEA.jpg.cef4a0d871d73416b13f20ec50eef0de.jpg

Edited by MissKitti
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Posted

Thinking of Home

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When I Think Of Home I Think Of:

pumpkin pies,

mulberry trees,

fields of corn,

bumble bees,

pastures,

farm animals,

sun brewed tea,

morning & afternoon chores,

my brother Jay & me

acres of farmland,

tractors and combines,

country living,

homecooked meals,

corn & beans growing,

harvest time,

Because when I think of home I think of Heaven

I think of all thats kind

When I think of home FAMILY comes to mind.

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[iCODE]by:[/iCODE]

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Posted

I'm A Soldier...

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the pain of a wound,

the pain of the bullet passing through me,

living with this anger in me,

I'm a soldier, I love this about me.

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walking the streets with respect,

to make it perfect,

free from any threat,

away from any kind of death,

I've faced death a million times

so families can dine,

I'm a soldier, i love this about me.

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dodging ied's, bullets, and landmines,

to see kids smiling across the borderlines,

I have no regrets being a soldier,

I've taken a lot upon my shoulder,

facing bullets, being brave and bolder,

I'm a soldier, I love this about me.

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emotionless, and fearless,

seeing blood every day, I am merciless,

I'm not a killing machine, I'm just a human being,

i show no mercy in my eyes, no love in my cries,

I'm a soldier, I love this about me.

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terrible places

tough, grim faces,

dark, frightening nights,

missing my lovely wife,

memories of a decent life,

leaving the war,

no more pain anymore

I'm a soldier, i love this about me.

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[iCODE]by:[/iCODE]

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Posted

The Soldier Gives....

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the soldier gives...

the right to bear arms,

carrying his weapon into wars,

the soldier keeps us safe from harm,

defending us on all foreign shores

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the soldier gives...

the right to protest,

standing up against everything that is wrong,

the soldier keeps us safe when we rest,

defending through nights so long

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the soldier gives...

the right to free speech,

speaking what is on his mind,

the soldier keeps our safety in reach,

leaving his friends, family and home behind,

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the soldier gives...

the right to free press,

the stories he will have to tell,

the soldier keeps us safe from distress,

by going through a living hell

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the soldier gives...

the right to religious freedom,

taking a moment to stop and pray,

the soldier keeps us safe from things to come,

being on the battlefield every day.

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[iCODE]by:[/iCODE]

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Posted

Time Passes

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The seconds pass...

We take a look back...

At what our lives had held...

The minutes pass...

Seeing what fell through the cracks...

Parts of our lives were so compelled...

The hours pass...

Thinking what we learned...

What we taught...

What we forgot...

The days pass...

Wishing a lot could be returned...

For things we have earned...

Wishing we would of never fought...

Hoping bad things are forgot...

Years pass...

Standing alone...

Boy have they all grown...

Married and gone...

and on their own...

Your life passes...

You stand very proud...

Looking at how they raise their own...

You did well...

Live on...

Be strong...

You did nothing wrong...

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[iCODE]by:[/iCODE]

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Posted

A Home To Live In

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Encounters with destiny

coming together

two hearts beating in perfect harmony

melting into each other

desiring the same thing

finding their home together

in any kind of weather

living the dream

as the perfect team!

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[iCODE]by:[/iCODE]

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Posted

What Happened America?

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America, America

What happened to America?

People are fighting

There is war and chaos

There is pain and death

There is turmoil and crime

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America, America

What happened to America?

People are dying

People are crying

We are striving to stay alive

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America, America

What happened to America?

The land of the free?

Where did it go?

The home of the brave?

America, America

What happened to America?

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Morals are diminishing

They don't seem to exist!

This country is doomed!

Move away from your wicked ways!

Turn back from your sinful ways!

Look at yourself America!

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[iCODE]by:[/iCODE]

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Posted

UP IN THE CAUSEWAY

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Up in the causeway,

We sit on the broken chairs,

swilling the cheap vodka,

and talking about dares.

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the colours of our fingers,

are bright aerosol blues,

and the smell of the paint,

filters thru as fumes.

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as the vodka takes its toll,

we talk about heaven,

and also of hell,

while we throw the empty cannons in the bin.

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Our hoodies zipped tight,

and the masks sit firm,

we write,

and only think short term.

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[iCODE]by:[/iCODE]

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Posted

This is an old Norwegian drinking poem passed down in my family that was often sung during weddings back in the old viking days.

It was actually banned in the late 1800's as it was believed to be the devils tune.


In the hardened days of yore

when with beer and brawn

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the knives of Halling Dale

from their sheaths were often drawn

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when women to the feast

funeral shirts would bring

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with which they would swathe

their dead husbands in

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there once took place a a wedding

somewhere in Hemse Dale

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where song and dance had ceased

and the men did ring the vale.

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In the center of the floor

framed by broad-shouldered men

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stood two with knives unsheated

and a leather belt round them

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And like columns carved

unmoving, serene

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stood four other men

as guardians of the scene

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They lifted burning torches

toward the blackened beams

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where curls of smoke collected

to a dark and brooding streams

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In vain two women try

howling, to stem

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the living wall of bodies

raised before them

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Angrily they're thrown back

and left to despair

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while the fiddler quietly sidles

towards the cellar stair.

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Down he goes to tap the beer

for the winner of the fight

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may have need to kiss

the rim of the bowl tonight.

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Within the belt they'll duel,

blood running like sap

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the vein will need refilling

from the beer casket tap.

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But entering the cellar

he saw a bluish glow

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someone sitting on the casket

tuning fiddle, holding bow.

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But this one held backwards

tightly to his chest

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and as soon as it was tuned

put his fiddle to the test.

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There came a song of wonder;

It rang like angry words,

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Like steel bite into wood

Like fists rammed into boards.

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It jubilantly roamed

Around the darkened cellar hall

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And came to a halt

At the sound of a fall

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Quietly the fiddler listened

to the mighty flow

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It was like the music's eddies

went down his spine and brow.

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He quickly asked the other

"Where did you learn that song?"

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The answer: "Don't you mind that,

But remember it - for long!"

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But as the fiddler bent down

Reaching for the tap

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He beheld a horny hoof

against the casket rap

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He forgot to tap the beer

And ran up to the hall

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Just as the men were lifting

The body from the fall

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Fanitullen it is called

This wild and haunting spell

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And in Halling Dale they play it

And they play it well

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And when its tune is singing

to beer and feast and brawn

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again knives of Halling Dale

from their sheaths are quickly drawn

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[iCODE]by:[/iCODE]

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Posted

THE ELEPHANT IS A PRETTY BIRD

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The elephant is a pretty bird

It flits from bough to bough

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It makes it's nest in the rhubarb trees

And whistles like a crow

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It was in the month of Liverpool

In the city of July

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The rain was snowing heavily

And the streets were very dry

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(hic)

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[iCODE]by:[/iCODE]

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Posted

Thorned Rose

I remember a velvet blue rose

In a garden of scarlet beauty

Each petal delicate to the touch

I stole a glance from her eyes

Two endless blue seas

We danced in a moonless night

A blazing star in my darkest night

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I remember enjoying the silence with you

You painted a picture of daring beauty

Of a new life, where the silence won't be so loud

As I hold you now, I remember

How twinkling stars sung your name

How the moon was graced with your smile

You're the reason song birds took flight

Bravely, towards a velvety blue night

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You had my heart

My gladly blind heart

I confused every smile with happiness

Every touch with affection

I waited for you

But you never came

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I should've stopped when I could

But I never could have

I let you go now. But remember, dear one

Your smile will always haunt my soul

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[iCODE]by:[/iCODE]

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Posted

In The Deep

I lay in deep, dark waters, never will I find my way home

A hollowed doll in a howling void, boundless and bare

Dangling in senseless articulation. I am a broken rhythm

Every decision already made. Every path already taken

I saw a string of memories; colours moving like silk

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I saw a police cruiser on a clear December night

Red and blue sirens flashed in a lonely midnight road

A truck driver with too much to drink

A mom driving home through a familiar road

Windshield shattered; each piece found a target

A voice broke from deep scarlet red to dead silence

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I saw fluorescent lights and white coats

False promises made, but faces told the truth

Dear eyes like broken glass; tears crashing down around me

People I knew; phantoms from a distant past

I felt the hour of departure; the quiet before the storm

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Emotions flashed before my eyes

Smiles and tears. Hopes and dreams

Tonight, I close my eyes and fear not the abyss

For I gave my life for the ones who gave me theirs

Tonight, I close my eyes and fade into blue

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[iCODE]by:[/iCODE]

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Posted

THE LONG DARK

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The Long Dark is beckoning my name

I stare at my sins in shame,

Have no doubt, the future isn’t bright

Have no worries of my blight

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I have to move on

The Morning Sun, or dawn; It is far off

The cold: inevitable

Fresh Sunshine: inevitable

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The fake heat, light, from the flame: useless

The cold that bites to the bone, ruthless

The Short Light, tiny light, is here

I stand out, tall and proud

The whispers in my ear, loud and clear

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The Long Dark, empty and cold, shrouds my fear.

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[iCODE]BY:[/iCODE]

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Posted

To Be Called A Man

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If you want to be called a man

you’ll never stop even for a single momentβ€’β€’

to fight for peace and justice.

You get out on the street, you scream,

your lips will get bloody from yelling,

your face will get bloody from bullets,

but not a step behind.

Every scream of yours is a rock thrown

on the windows of war mongers.

Every gesture of yours is like

ruining injustice.

And make no mistake:

Don’t let yourself been carried away

not for a single moment.

By just relaxing awhile and recalling

your childhood years,

you let thousands of kids slaughtered,

when playing harmlessly in the cities.

If you perish just a moment looking at sunset,

tomorrow people will be dying at the night of war.

If you stop for a moment to dream,

then millions of human dreams

will turn to dust under the bombshells.

You don’t have time,no time for yourself,

if you want to be called a man.

If you want to be called a man

you may need to leave your mother,

your beloved woman or your child.

You will not hesitate.

You will decline your lamp and your bread,

you will refuse your night resting

on your door sill, for the rough road

heading towards tomorrow,

you won’t be coward or be afraid of nothing.

I know it’s beautiful listening to a harmonica,

at night, to gaze on a star and dream,

it’s beautiful leaning on the red mouth of your love,

and hearing her say her dreams about the future,

but you must bid farewell to all this and start over,

for you are responsible for all harmonicas of the world,

for all the stars, for all the lamps and for all the dreams,

if you want to be called a man.

If you want to be called a man

you may need to stay in prison for twenty or more years

but you, even in prison you will remember always

Spring, your mother and the world,

you , even within the square metre of your cell,

you will go on walking the road of yours on earth.

And when,in the vast silence of the night,

you will be knocking on your cell wall with your finger,

from the opposite side of the wall,

Spain will be answering to you.

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You, even when your years go passing by,

and your hair turns white,you will not get old.

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You, even in prison,every morning you will be younger,

for always we’ll be starting new fights in the world.

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If you want to be called a man,

you must be able of dying any morning,

late at night in isolation you’ll write

a long and touchy letter to your mother,

you’ll write on the wall,your initials and the date,

and a simple word too:

Peace.

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As if you had to write down your whole life story.

To be able of dying at any morning,

to be able of standing before the six rifles,

as if you stood before the whole future

to be able at the battery of guns killing you

to hear millions of ordinary people singing

and struggling for peace.

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If you want to be called a man…

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[iCODE]BY:[/iCODE]

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