Wait, what's going on?

Are you being shipped through the Poems topic, Anuk?

Speaking of which, anyone got any good poetry?

I can post the Raven if you want!
thats good poetry..

You know you never can tell someones tone of voice through typing...

So you really do still like Post?!

Anuk/Post Anuk/Post Anuk/Post Anuk/Post Anuk/Post Anuk/Post Anuk/Post

Used to. For three days after I came on here. But I'm over him and moving onto better things. :P

Ianna, if you want good poetry start at the beginning of the topic. <_<

Haha...ok I'll check out the beginning.

So, you've moved passed the garbage heep, Anuk?

Yes, but I can't help but realize you can't get over Post. :P

Right.

Because I'm going to fall for someone, a pervert, online.

Yep, you all have nailed me.

*Snorts*

Delusional shippers.

You know you like him. :P

Back on topic, I made a poem.

I'm tired,
that's bad,
my sister from her job got fired,
which is really sad.

We had to write a sonnet in comp.. I came up with this

Hatred Created

Into the shadowed abyss I descend
Forgotten by those who I once cherished
Possesed by evil, with hatred love ends
Betrayed, I have changed, my sould has perished
Purity of the heart at one time reigned
Lost in the darkness, alone and forgot
Deep within now lives suffering and pain
Receiving neglect, this ruin was wrought
The dark embowers leaving no escape
The angst I've endured, with care deficient
'Til the end arrives, unknown is my fate
Is this transitory or permanent?
The infliction obtained conveys abhor
Eternal malice devours my core.

Gods, they tried to make me write a sonnet in English once. Horrible, horrible things. I hate writing poetry anyway, but the amount of control over everything in a sonnet is just insane.

I never had to write a sonnet and I'm glad.

In sixth grade, we did poetry books. We mainly focused on limericks.

i cant do poetry, and then they make us write loads of crap about it for our exam. bah.

We never really cover poetry, since sixth grade.

Unless Shakespear counts.

I like you sonnet, Adele.

And poetry shouldn't be so controlled. The poet should have the ability to write in however fashion they want without it being categorized and labeled. Poetry is about freedom of the soul, and being forced to write it in a certain way is being caged again.

Well, yes.

But the sonnet has to be controlled to fit the format of a sonnet to be considered a sonnet.

That's what I mean, though. There shouldn't be anything called a sonnet or a haiku or anything else. There should just be poems, because through poetry the writer is a bird

There's uncatergorized poetry too, but you know, some people like sonnets.

Thanks...

Poetry is limitless, they just gave a name to a specific type, and now, if you write like that, that is what your poetry is labled. You have the choice to write differently, its just do you take advantage of that.

I think that's very true.

If I haven't told you, good job on the poem.

Pasionless

Her gaze burning passionless
Her heart cold as ice
she stabed me wounded me hurt me
why I asked as a sharp pain entered my skull
floating away from life from death
never returning leaving her behind
A gleefulness burst through me out into the sky
Her hatred reached me
Blast me from utopia
down to the hell I call home
she reached back up taking me down
my life isn over I thought the she kissed me a hot but cold
warm but chill
icey and burning I lost my self
in heaven
in life
in her



Ode To Books

Books are to be wondered
thought about, discussed
rembered
I rember the first time
I got my first book
It was a picture book
Ever since then books have been my life
Or a good chunk of it
Books are like
a portal to another
world
to the books world
Where you can do anything
Books fit like gloves
tight and comfortable
always keeping you warm
safe and secure
Books are a key
to your soul
the key to unlock
secrets deep inside your body
A book keeps you
on your toes
ready for more
Books can be lustful
a thirst that never dies
Some books seem
to great for one person to read
or think about
Books have meaning
a truth
we may never know
Books are a light in the dark
A soft pillow
A song
A heart
Books seem dull
look past their covers
and delve into their world.