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Write a Poem

5 replies to this topic
  • Jonny_Tightlips


  • The Connection
  • Joined: 12 Mar 2004
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Posted 02 June 2005 - 04:20 AM Edited by Jonny Tightlips, 02 June 2005 - 04:23 AM.

Yes, the title explains it all. Just write whatever you feel like in poem form, minimum of 4 lines, haiku is allowed. Just explain your day's emotions in a poem.

I'll start.

Pass the steps,
onto a bus,
to a sun-dried park,
I'm already burned,
Heat's getting strong,
The weather's not bad either,
because this lady next to me,
has a world on a balance beam,
while I juggle thoughts,
of swimming and juggling thoughts.

D Jones
  • D Jones

    smoked out

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  • Joined: 15 May 2004


Posted 02 June 2005 - 04:58 AM

Good poem. Not much of a "poem" writer but I'll give it a go.

School was fun
Almost done
I walked the steps
Of my school
I saw a hot chick
And I ran to the bathroom
After that I was cool
Then I went to my class
Then I finished class
And went to my Bus
It took me to my home
And now I'm here.

Nate Baker1
  • Nate Baker1

    Back...for a little

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  • Joined: 01 Jul 2003


Posted 02 June 2005 - 05:17 AM

I went into the blazing sun
to play basketball for some fun
I stopped short from heat stroke
And went home before I broke

I did basically nothing the rest of the day
Isnt it a magical way to stay?
Now I must look forward to tomorrow
Where I do nothing.

I suck.

  • Ciabatta

    Rude Boy

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  • Joined: 08 Dec 2003


Posted 02 June 2005 - 05:24 AM

Not much of a poetry writer either but what the hell.


Another day
Of wasting good time
Listening to CDs
And trying to rhyme
Juicy runs through my head
It happened early that morning
As I jumped out of bed
A few hours later
Frustration takes over
Walking when it's raining
In need of a motor
I'm soaked in heaven's tears
I call a ride
I head to my friend's house
From boredom I hide
Now I am upstairs
While downstairs they play
I have only one thought
That boredom concludes my day

  • StewMitch

    Auld Bawls

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  • Joined: 20 Jun 2002


Posted 02 June 2005 - 06:50 AM Edited by StewMitch, 02 June 2005 - 06:54 AM.

2:06 in the Fourth, Third and Goal: Angles 10, Hellions 14;
The Angels make their stand
They've drawn their line in the sand,
A bound'ry the Hellions can't cross
The Cue-Bee lets go his toss
29 takes the ball, with 66 in front
giving his all-
When Henry Rick crashes the gate.

1:59, Fourth and Goal:
Cue-Bee Mallory takes a knee,
as the ball beds itself betwixt the turf and hands,
the Kicker launches the 'skin through the crossbars,
aaaaand give them 3!

1:58, Angels 10, Hellions 17:
The kicker sends a line drive
to LaShaun Zucker, pinned on the line
while a Hellion at his feet, takes a dive.

1:53, First and Ten on the Five:
Coach Gadsen gathers his cherubs
Lays out his plan, one last desperation drive
Our man, Rattan, under center
Takes the snap, and drops back
Dancing in the pocket, he looks for our savior
Ricky "Sticky" Lockett
Time winds down, the crowd frowns
Rattan doesn't see 96
The whistle blows.

1:43, still tickin', Second and Fifteen on the go'line
Rattan ends the huddle, his play he will not muddle
"HIKE HIKE HUT," damn our boys are in a rut
Lockett streaking down the left,
Denny Walker waggling in the middle
Rattan lets it fly, and fly and fly
Walker catches it, run run run!
36 catches him, pushes him out.
Whistle blows again, the clock silent.

1:30, First and Ten on the Angel's Forty-Nine
Rattan back again, but ah!
Shovel pass to the Runnin' Man Dan!
Dan jukes, ducks, dodges, and dives
Our kicker began to puke.
He's down past midfield.
Whistle blows, moments later the zebra throws
his folded yellow flag.
"Un-nes-sus-sary Roughness, on the Defense!"

1:00, First and Ten again, on the Hellion 30
Go for broke
No more choice
We just gotta
Pass Pass Pass.
Rattan drops back,
looks deep for Lockett
Still in the pocket
Looks at 96, throws it away.

:55, Second and Ten, Hellion 30
"Damn man, your feet
runnin' faster than a new Rolls-Royce.
Aight, Double Dog 50, Nine-Nine-Nine, on One"
Rattan has the ball,
with no trouble at all
Finds Walker on the sideline
into his firm hands, along the sideline.
Whistle blows.

:40, Third and One, Hell'yen Twenty-One
"O-Line, watch that Mike Backer!
All right, arright, Bulldog 30, 24 Pound"
Rattan hands off the rock to Runnin' Man Dan
right up the gut, bejeebus that was a thud.
It'll be close, bring out the chains.
Chatterin' teeth comin' like rain.
Zebras cluster, make their decision

:17 and windin' down, Fourth and Inches, Hell'yen Twenty-One
Rattan, along the line he barks
Like the field generals of ages past
His orders to his men.
Five steps back, head yanked back and forth
Looking for salvation
This game had long been his temptation
Broadcast all over the nation
Long he'd dreamed for that standing ovation
He was always precise, but this time he had to roll the dice
to the rookie nicknamed Cookie, all alone
In his hands, the ball juggled
restrain it he did, as he took off down the sides
right across the line
and the whistle blows, the zebras throw
their arms to the sky.
Six points richer, the Angels are

:7, for the Extra point.
The Kicker walks out to tie the game.
Championship riding on his leg
His arms he dangled low
nodded his head, the center lets it go.
But instead of the sure hands of kneeling Rattan
The ball careened toward the kicker
No one knew why, not the reason why, dads began to cry
When the kicker caught the ball, and boy did he ran
Was this the plan?
Rattan going point, even with aching joints,
lit up mean 48, leading tackler that day.
The kicker imitated his skill,
of arching the flight plan of the ball
This time with body, a literal angel in flight
Over the scrummin' mass of linemen he sailed
A plan Gadsen half thought would fail
as the kicker fell over the line
Zebras raised their hands
removing the invisible weight that sat on our hearts.

:03, our Hero kicking off.
Right into the anxioux heart of 88
Gambled he did, much like Gadsen
But tripped by his teammate, he did
The Whistle blew, the gun went off
That's the ball game

:00 Angels 18, Hellions 17
Immortal Forever, both rivals will be
As this was the game, of the game of eternity.


Haha, longest poem evar. Suckit.

EDIT: Oops, I just read the subject line of the thread. My bad confused.gif

  • Canofceleri


  • The Connection
  • Joined: 17 Nov 2001


Posted 03 June 2005 - 02:12 AM

Barking breaks the day,
I'm conscious to the hour.
Fade from black,
my eyes see through a grainy haze,
like some old tired film on reprinted celluloid.
They're red and they burn,
they're telling me to close...
but I can't be bothered by a second coming of barking.
My insomnia faded hours ago and I didn't even know it,
not until now.

Slipping in and out of consciousness,
this burden is recurring.
What would come of this day
if I bother to find it?
Beyond the smoking cigarettes
and drinking half-old milk
and finding moldy macaroni in middle-American Tupper ware.

I could go out back and have a swim,
or I could write an eloquently worded poem.
But I have left no words and I hate the water...
so why should I think to bother?

Night again. It'll eat my consciousness,
and it will swallow the sleeping world.
Inevitably the day will be broken again,
who knows when... and who really cares?

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