Does anybody write poetry?

Discussion in 'Hobbies' started by Fierlin1182, Aug 29, 2011.

  1. Fierlin1182

    Fierlin1182 powered-flight

    Aug 26, 2011
    Sorry if there's already a topic about this, but recently I had to write poetry for part of English, and despite being opposed to it at first I actually found it rather enjoyable. I wrote perhaps six in the first week... which was very odd, most people only managed one or two.

    Anyone else have poems to share?
  2. gmendoza

    gmendoza Songster

    Mar 23, 2010
    Rock Hill,SC
    I do have poetry to share:

    Its not 'chicken Poetry:

    Unknown Grave

    by Gabriel Mendoza

    Today I lay on an unknown grave
    Someone from somewhere knew who this someone was
    The headstone still lives, but the story is all gone
    Who knows who is in there?

    As I lay on this grave of an unknown someone
    It might be a grim reminder
    That I am also no one, but I am alive
    Less worse to be no one and dead

    I fell asleep on that unknown grave
    It was a comfortable rest, or be it so grizzly
    That I was so comfortable with death
    To share the topsoil of a dead someone unknown

    Unanswered are my stories my lifetime shares
    My dreams, my desires, my awakenings and nightmares
    Must seem to echo to my unknown friend
    Telling of my unknown grave that encompasses my end

    You are me and I am you I said to the Unhallowed ground
    Our souls are twisted, our feelings spellbound
    But one thing is different as I walk away
    You must lay here unknown, but I must be unknown another day

    Here is a link to my other poems.I do have more,but this poetry site wont allow any that seem dark.
  3. Fierlin1182

    Fierlin1182 powered-flight

    Aug 26, 2011
    That's great!
    I never seem to be able to write something meaningful like that [​IMG]
    My poems are about documentaries I saw on TV about air crashes...
  4. gmendoza

    gmendoza Songster

    Mar 23, 2010
    Rock Hill,SC
    I actualy wrote this when I was homeless and separated in Charlotte when we moved to the east coast our first year.I wont dabble nor answer any questions concerning this,but I was walking to uptown when I spotted a park,so I layed down on the ground for a rest,when I realized it was a cemetary park.I was laying down on someones grave.I couldnt read the headstone because it was very old and decayed.Then as I thought" who is lying in this unknown grave"? I came up with this poem.

    There are many more about my homeless exploits that I made into poems.Heres another one:


    I had no place to go
    The walls crumbled around me
    That fatefull evening
    I was told to let go
    Of the things I held onto
    And crying all the way out the door

    The thunder and the rain
    Were in their place that day
    Surrounding me,drownding me
    Beating me with their lightning
    To the feeling that they
    Were made for me that day

    I prayed for the lightning to kill me
    End me please from my agony
    Destroy this unwanted person
    This thorn in everyones side
    Get rid of me and toss me in the ditch
    Who would care?

    I cried so much to the point of blood
    I tried my best But failed
    I always tried for them
    Leaving myself last in line
    Wasn’t that enough?

    What more did I need to do for others?
    What more did they want from me?
    Wasn’t it enough that I was a good person?
    Wasn’t it enough that I did try?
    Wasn’t it enough that I loved them?

    I cant think of turning back to tell them this
    Seems they didn’t want me anyways
    I’ll have to force my heart to press on
    Oh please God put hooks in my mouth
    And turn be back. I don’t want to go

    All I ever hope for was a better life for them
    All I ever prayed was the best for them
    So I had to reach into my heart
    And turn the screw
    And move forward,to wherever I must go

    I felt my feet were in cement
    It was hard to walk away
    But the opposition didn’t care
    It just pressed on,driving me away
    The feeling of my chest giving in
    And my heart pounding,my throat closed
    And I couldn’t stop the tears
    And the rain
    And the pain

    As I walked away

    I feel poetry SHOULD be based on your own experiences.Not made as a poem tool spitting out jibberjabber for profit. [​IMG]

    Now I also made some "Mantel" poems from sad and death times in my life like this one:

    Swept Away

    Please tell him I wanted you
    To have someone like me
    Please tell him I needed you
    Like you need me

    Please tell him I loved you
    Like you love me
    Please tell him I cared for you
    Like you care for me

    Please tell him I miss you
    I hope you miss me
    Please tell him I did no wrong
    You did no wrong to me

    Please don’t leave my arms
    But he took you both from me
    Please don’t leave my mind
    Your names will stay with me

    Please return the one thing you still have
    You both took my me from me
    All im left with is this empty shell
    Until the day I am free

    The mantel came in at night
    And swept you both away from me…….

    This one was about my and DW misscarrages and our two kids that the "mantel of death" took.
    Last edited: Aug 30, 2011
  5. Fierlin1182

    Fierlin1182 powered-flight

    Aug 26, 2011
    Thanks so much for sharing those, they were beautiful! I agree with writing about experiences, that way you can put more feeling into them.
    Thanks again, I thought they were really quite good [​IMG]
  6. Fierlin1182

    Fierlin1182 powered-flight

    Aug 26, 2011
    Here's my feeble attempt.

    In a time that I hold dear
    Not too far from yesteryear,
    My small world had corners four,
    I never wanted any more.

    A young heart that had known no pain,
    I fell and scrambled up again.
    This small world would never need
    More than population: me.

    I had dreams I strived to see
    Turn into reality,
    I wanted just the reach the sky.
    Things were fine with only I.

    Be mad at me? Why, that’s not fair.
    I did no wrong, why should I care!
    When did things begin to matter?
    Now I’m not so hard to shatter.

    My rules I’d want them all to meet,
    But friendship is a two-way street.
    Sometimes I would throw the knife,
    Of course I’d suffer: It’s called life.

    The ground from a height is bound to be hard,
    And true, when I fall, it may leave me scarred.
    But this young heart has not yet grown old,
    Instead it’s become a heart of pure gold.

    Welcome to the bigger picture.
  7. gmendoza

    gmendoza Songster

    Mar 23, 2010
    Rock Hill,SC
  8. gmendoza

    gmendoza Songster

    Mar 23, 2010
    Rock Hill,SC
    My poetry has sort of went underground because of dark content.
    Every site wants to be a critic, save one that I am on.

    Oh well, Poe never got popular until after he died, and he is my favorite writer.
  9. Chickensfan

    Chickensfan Songster

    Jun 26, 2016
    wow! just wow!

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