Write Your Poems To Here

Read my words..



Night Of The Morning

Every morning has a night,
Peaceful,quiet night..
I yearn for night,
Take me to your embrace moonlight..

Arms of the dark,
Pulls me to itself,
I find peace in moonlight,
Faces of angels around me..

Burning fire in that heart,
I find peace in twilight..

I am dying,
Without love,
Only thing i had in life,
Happiness and collapse..

Winds of the night,
Fly me to the moon,
The sword behind me,
Stab in to my heart,
And bid my blood to land..

I want leave my blood left.
I dont need it,i dont feel it.
Faces of angels,
Save me from the nothing i've become.

Faces of the angels,
Take me to infinity of darkness,
Peace,faith and quiet,
Save me before the dawn..




A poor poet..

Between dry grasses,
A man with his wounded breast and horse,
His sprained heart,ruined dreams,
He is just a poor poet.

Her name is carved to his heart,
Enchantced her name to his every side,
But why she care,
He is just a poor poet..

How worthy are my poems?
Or wait death with wet eyes,
A wound of rose on his heart,
A tear falling from his eye,
A man has only love,
He is just a poor poet..

Be hitten from heart is different,
Looking hiddenly to big love near enemy,
But he just worth with his tears,
But he is just a poor poet..

Every tear stabs like a dagger to his heart,
Does it worth,for love he,
But just,
He is just a poor poet..




How are them?

A most deceptive weapon.


one day I saw a gal,
a wench to suck my lil' pal
a young lass so sweet,
I kneeled at her feet.

"dost thou come here often, wench?"
I said as we sat on a bench.
Her face blushed so red,
later we went to bed.

Alas, she told me to go,
my heart was filled with woe.
"Why, oh why must I leave?"
"You aim to stick a weapon in me."

I concealed my member and went
"That little harlot can get bent."
It must have been then
that I returned to my men.

"We'll ambush cowardly Swadians,
for I had little luck with maidens."
And we rode out,
and prowled about.

We found the dogs,
they were dining on hogs.
I then ordered "charge!"
And revealed my weapon so large.

I remember not the battle so glorious
But we did emerge victorious.
I recovered my shield
from the blood drenched battlefield

An army of men, dead before me.
how did this come to be?
their corpses, broke and torn.
blood on the tabards they had worn

They expected axe, bow or sword.
unaware, this now cold horde,
was that my skullsplitter
was my joy-spitter

a thousand warriors fell
to my member from hell.
it was my manmeat
with which they were beat.

Anguish, pain, sorrow
My life, an empty void
anguish, pain, sorrow

Worbah said:

A most deceptive weapon.


one day I saw a gal,
a wench to suck my lil' pal
a young lass so sweet,
I kneeled at her feet.

"dost thou come here often, wench?"
I said as we sat on a bench.
Her face blushed so red,
later we went to bed.

Alas, she told me to go,
my heart was filled with woe.
"Why, oh why must I leave?"
"You aim to stick a weapon in me."

I concealed my member and went
"That little harlot can get bent."
It must have been then
that I returned to my men.

"We'll ambush cowardly Swadians,
for I had little luck with maidens."
And we rode out,
and prowled about.

We found the dogs,
they were dining on hogs.
I then ordered "charge!"
And revealed my weapon so large.

I remember not the battle so glorious
But we did emerge victorious.
I recovered my shield
from the blood drenched battlefield

An army of men, dead before me.
how did this come to be?
their corpses, broke and torn.
blood on the tabards they had worn

They expected axe, bow or sword.
unaware, this now cold horde,
was that my skullsplitter
was my joy-spitter

a thousand warriors fell
to my member from hell.
it was my manmeat
with which they were beat.

Click to expand...

Hmm......
http://forums.taleworlds.com/index.php/topic,4944.0.html
http://forums.taleworlds.com/index.php/topic,9223.0.html
http://forums.taleworlds.com/index.php/topic,16695.0.html
and to some extent:
http://forums.taleworlds.com/index.php/topic,4613.0.html

Eh, call me a spoilsport if you like.

(Last post for my goal of two weeks)

As the anniversary of the great pain in our love draws near,
I just want to cry,
As  in that dark alley you left me bleeding, hoping I would die,
As i visit you on the fifth,
your dark shadow looms over my heart like the Jedi and the Sith.
Why did i have to fulfill your needs for that night?
as it just forced me to fight,
back the tears and anger, leaving nothing but my fear.

Guys, is there not enough ****e emo poetry on the web already? Please no more.

You dare call this

Worbah said:

<hilarious thing>

Click to expand...

****e emo poetry? 

...Though I do agree that the others must die.

A haiku?

Calandale's so odd,
He writes in stupid short lines,
It annoys me so.

Yoshiboy said:

Guys, is there not enough ****e emo poetry on the web already? Please no more.

Click to expand...

Man, if you need a hug, all you have to do is ask.

Buxton said:

A haiku?

Calandale's so odd,
He writes in stupid short lines,
It annoys me so.

Click to expand...

That ain't a haiku bux, it's a senryu, a haiku has to be about nature.

Yoshiboy said:

Guys, is there not enough ****e emo poetry on the web already? Please no more.

Click to expand...

Truths!

Well, bar Naridill's. That would do well as a war chant

Naridill said:

The always popular Schlager I wrote back in the day

The Sword

The sword's my friend!
The sword's my foe!
The sword hacks high!
The sword cuts low!

The blade cleaves heads!
The blade cleaves bones!
The blade drains reds!
The blade drains moans!

The edge rives short!
The edge rives tall!
The edge rends naught!
The edge rends all!

The blade so fast in my hand held,
before me two full scores are felled!
Victim to this mighty thing!
Let us for my longsword sing!
Salute it now, death-gasping men,
it killed you all, full four times ten!
Hail the edge, so sharp and red,
that sent you running in your dread!

It is in truth of war-tools lord!
I speak of my throat-lusting sword!

Click to expand...

No kenningar, and not even a single heiti...you fail at skaldic poetry.

I don't like poetry. Seen too much of it in GCSE.

Death to those who abuse others.
Curse those who beat their mothers

Make sure they pay
Let them be shut of from the light of day

Kick them in till they are lame
Let them crawl about in their shame

Do to them as they did to us
beat, sodomize and howl at them as they cus

The sign reads do not feed the damed
But on July the fifth one walks away, as he planned

Many hearts are filled with fear
The untimely meeting that draws near

My abusive love will say "hi"
Oh god, why didn't I die?

Why is Kobrag even allowed to think of posting in this thread.

Rabid Potatoe said:

Why is Kobrag even allowed to think of posting in this thread.

Click to expand...

Why is Korbag allowed to think of posting in any thread?

Gimme a while to think of a poem.

Eh, I'll repost one of mine because it's just that good, slightly edited from last posting:

"Windbreaker"

It was a deep, staccato blast
which ripped it's way out of my ass.
It had a scent like rotten cheese
that wafted off upon the breeze.
Nearby people looked for the source
I'd not admit to it, of course.
I hid my guilt and turned around
as if to spot who caused the sound.
At my own feet I spied a pooch;
I could have given it a smooch.
I said, "It must have been the mutt
  which loosed foul wind out of it's butt."
As I turned back I clearly sensed
that some of them were not convinced.
A little girl among the throng
felt that my story was all wrong.
She said "I noticed, just by chance,
  the small brown stain that's on your pants."

Wow...very..uh..enlightening, how did you get the inspiration for that?

I wrote it many years ago on a poetry kick. I just brainstormed for a funny poem, and struck on the idea of some guy farting in public and trying to hide it, but getting busted for having "butt-mud" due to having "sharted" (pardon the lingo). Turned out pretty well I think.