#1
Share some of your favorite poems, poets, your own poems, etc. Just be poem related.


My favorite poet right now is James Kavanaugh. We had a poetry unit in English, and I was reading his books. Walk Easy On The Earth is really good.
I can honestly say I have really been far even as decided to use even go want to do look more like.


I don't always post on UG, but when I do, I post in the Pit. Stay thirsty my friends.
#5
Quote by assparade69
"I Cumeth Blud' by William ShakesCorpse is one of my personal favorites.


not his best work, but i can see why you like it yes
#6
On The Massacre Of The Christians In Bulgaria
By Oscar Wilde

CHRIST, dost thou live indeed? or are thy bones
Still straightened in their rock-hewn sepulcher?
And was thy Rising only dreamed by Her
Whose love of thee for all her sin atones?
For here the air is horrid with men's groans,
The priests who call upon thy name are slain,
Dost thou not hear the bitter wail of pain
From those whose children lie upon the stones?
Come down, O Son of God! incestuous gloom
Curtains the land, and through the starless night
Over thy Cross the Crescent moon I see!
If thou in very truth didst burst the tomb
Come down, O Son of Man! and show thy might,
Lest Mahomet be crowned instead of Thee!


Great thread idea
#7
Poems, I love to write them

Sometimes silly sometimes sad
In the end they're usually pretty bad
But that won't deter me, no not the least
For I am a poem writing beast
No one does compare to my magnificent writing flair
And this magnificence is mine I shall not share
So go, try to rival my impressive art
But I will be the one to win the worlds heart!

Like that?
Quote by 20cdndollars
You are god, floppypick



Floppydick


If that's how you read my name, leave a message saying so on my profile
#8
Quote by floppypick
Poems, I love to write them

Sometimes silly sometimes sad
In the end they're usually pretty bad
But that won't deter me, no not the least
For I am a poem writing beast
No one does compare to my magnificent writing flair
And this magnificence is mine I shall not share
So go, try to rival my impressive art
But I will be the one to win the worlds heart!

Like that?


Nice. that is quite amazing
Make a joyful noise.


Guild M-30

Peavy Audition 110 amp hey, i'm actually proud of this one.
boss ME-50
www.iamterrified.com
#9
Quote by floppypick
Poems, I love to write them

Sometimes silly sometimes sad
In the end they're usually pretty bad
But that won't deter me, no not the least
For I am a poem writing beast
No one does compare to my magnificent writing flair
And this magnificence is mine I shall not share
So go, try to rival my impressive art
But I will be the one to win the worlds heart!

Like that?

haha just like that.

Quote by imdeth
On The Massacre Of The Christians In Bulgaria
By Oscar Wilde

CHRIST, dost thou live indeed? or are thy bones
Still straightened in their rock-hewn sepulcher?
And was thy Rising only dreamed by Her
Whose love of thee for all her sin atones?
For here the air is horrid with men's groans,
The priests who call upon thy name are slain,
Dost thou not hear the bitter wail of pain
From those whose children lie upon the stones?
Come down, O Son of God! incestuous gloom
Curtains the land, and through the starless night
Over thy Cross the Crescent moon I see!
If thou in very truth didst burst the tomb
Come down, O Son of Man! and show thy might,
Lest Mahomet be crowned instead of Thee!


Great thread idea

That's a good one. I know Oscar Wilde was a good writer, but never thought of checking out his poetry.
I can honestly say I have really been far even as decided to use even go want to do look more like.


I don't always post on UG, but when I do, I post in the Pit. Stay thirsty my friends.
#11
There once was a man from nantucket,
whose dick was so long he could suck it,
while wiping his chin,
he said with a grin,
if my ear was a vag I could **** it.



I have a sad story to tell you,
it may hurt your feelings a bit,
last night when I walked into my bathroom
I stepped in a pile of shaving cream.

Be nice and clean, shave everyday and you'll always look keen.

One more...
Busted flat and dusted boy your minds a terrible thing
Said the man with a dirty hand who claimed that he was king
Choking angels from inside trying to make them sing
'Cause your short of breath and close to death from sleeping on the wing
Dirty king, dirty king now you're strapped in for the ride
It's so hard to be a fighter when your hands are always tied.
Mr. Innocent blood says he kills but just for love
Too bad the good ones always have to take the blame
"hey" sharp tongue liar making pay in a bed of fire
Too bad your dreams are always made of losing games
Dirty king, dirty king now you're shrapped in for the ride,
It's so hard to be a fighter when your hands are always tied.
But I want to I want to I want to but my hands were always tied up
But I want to I want to I want to but my hands were always tied
And I wish I had myself a dime for every time I cursed your goddamn name...
Mister clean
Sweating on the line doing 40 wasting time
Ain't it funny how that money rots your brain?
Put your soul on trial 'cause you lost it all to a tiny vial
Look in the mirror when you tell me who's insane
Dirty kingm dirty king now you're strapped in for the ride,
it so hard to be a fighter when your hands are always tied.
But I want to but my hands are always tied up
But I want to I want to I want to but my hands were always tied up
But I wish I had myself a dime for every time I cursed your
Goddamn name..
Mister clean
Quote by RU Experienced?
Go see U2, then you can say you contributed money to Bono's giant Irish tower built out of the blood, tears, and the hopes of African children.
Last edited by \m/_Chair_\m/ at Dec 21, 2008,
#12
Oh yeah, this was my poem from that thread:

I happened upon a sh*tty thread
But lo! It's filled with trolls and dickheads.
I came to expect as much from the Pit
Who can't do anything but fap and sh*t.
Alas, TS, there is no hope,
The Pit Monkeys just want to grope
Their sacks, so please don't try to elicit
Smart responses from the Pit, they'll just piss [on] it.
#13
Quote by xaviergray
Oh yeah, this was my poem from that thread:

I happened upon a sh*tty thread
But lo! It's filled with trolls and dickheads.
I came to expect as much from the Pit
Who can't do anything but fap and sh*t.
Alas, TS, there is no hope,
The Pit Monkeys just want to grope
Their sacks, so please don't try to elicit
Smart responses from the Pit, they'll just piss [on] it.

Ahhh ****
In the pit
I read a poem
By you, while i roamed
The thread i made
But then my hope fades
Because my man
You crushed my hopes
Pee Ess
God dammitt~~

lmao thats what i replied.. /threadjack.
LIFE IS TOO SHORT NOT TO LET YOUR MIND SPREAD WINGS AND TAKE FLIGHT

Quote by KeepOnRotting
+Infinity. This dude knows good metal.
#14
Quote by LaGrange
Ahhh ****
In the pit
I read a poem
By you, while i roamed
The thread i made
But then my hope fades
Because my man
You crushed my hopes
Pee Ess
God dammitt~~

lmao thats what i replied.. /threadjack.


To which I replied:

It's alright my good man.
I once had the same hope.
But it all changed once I learned
90% of the Pit is on dope.
#15
Quote by xaviergray
To which I replied:

It's alright my good man.
I once had the same hope.
But it all changed once I learned
90% of the Pit is on dope.


Nah I think it would be crack
That's what keeps em up from hittin the sack
Dope, they be drowsy, hungry, and tired
On crack, they'd all be alive n wired
But alas either way this hope is but a dream
We will always be a bunch of children with low self esteem
Quote by 20cdndollars
You are god, floppypick



Floppydick


If that's how you read my name, leave a message saying so on my profile
#16
My Easy God is Gone by James Kavanaugh

I have lost my easy God - the one whose name
I knew since childhood.
I knew his temper, his sullen outrage,
his ritual forgiveness.
I knew the strength of his arm, the sound
of his insistent voice.
His beard bristling, his lips full and red
with moisture at the moustache,
His eyes clear and piercing, too blue
to understand all,
His face too unwrinkled to feel my
child’s pain.
He was a good God - so he told me -
a long suffering and manageable one.
I knelt at his feet and kissed them.
I felt the smooth countenance of his forgiveness.

I never told him how he frightened me,
How he followed me as a child,
When I played with friends or begged
for candy on Halloween.
He was a predictable God, I was the
unpredictable one.
He was unchanging, omnipotent, all-seeing,
I was volatile and helpless.

He taught me to thank him for the concern
which gave me no chance to breathe,
For the love which demanded only love in
return - and obedience.
He made pain sensible and patience possible
and the future foreseeable.
He, the mysterious, took all mystery away,
corroded my imagination,
Controlled the stars and would not let
them speak for themselves.

Now he haunts me seldom: some fierce
umbilical is broken,
I live with my own fragile hopes and
sudden rising despair.
Now I do not weep for my sins; I have
learned to love them.
And to know that they are the wounds that
make love real.
His face eludes me; his voice, with all
its pity, does not ring in my ear.
His maxims memorized in boyhood do not
make fruitless and pointless my experience.
I walk alone, but not so terrified as when
he held my hand.

I do not splash in the blood of his son
nor hear the crunch of nails or thorns
piercing protesting flesh.
I am a boy again - I whose boyhood was
turned to manhood in a brutal myth.
Now wine is only wine with drops that do
not taste of blood.
The bread I eat has too much pride for transubstantiation,
I, too - and together the bread and I embrace,
Each grateful to be what we are, each loving
from our own reality.
Now the bread is warm in my mouth and
I am warm in its mouth as well.

Now my easy God is gone - he knew too
much to be real,
He talked too much to listen, he knew
my words before I spoke.
But I knew his answers as well - computerized
and turned to dogma.
His stamp was on my soul, his law locked
cross-like on my heart,
His imperatives tattooed on my breast, his
aloofness canonized in ritual.

Now he is gone - my easy, stuffy God - God,
the father - master, the mother - whiner, the
Dull, whoring God who offered love bought
by an infant’s fear.
Now the world is mine with all its pain and
warmth, with its every color and sound;
The setting sun is my priest with the ocean for it’s alter.
The rising sun redeems me with rolling
waves warmed in its arms.
A dog barks and I weep to be alive, a
cat studies me and my job is boundless.
I lie on the grass and boy-like, search the sky.
The clouds do not turn to angels, the winds
do not whisper of heaven or hell.

Perhaps I have no God - what does it matter?
I have beauty and joy and transcending loneliness,
I have the beginning of love - as beautiful as it
is feeble - as free as it is human.
I have the mountains that whisper secrets
held before men could speak,
I have the oceans that belches life on
the beach and caresses it in the sand,
I have a friend who smiles when he sees
me, who weeps when he hears my pain,
I have a future of wonder.
I have no past - the steps have disappeared
the wind has blown them away.

I stand in the Heavens and on earth, I
feel the breeze in my hair,
I can drink to the North Star and shout
on a bar stool,
I can feel the teeth of a hangover, the
joy of laziness,
The flush of my own rudeness, the surge of
my own ineptitude.
And I can know my own gentleness as well
my wonder, my nobility.
I sense the call of creation, I feel its
swelling in my hands.
I can lust and love, eat and drink, sleep
and rise,
But my easy God is gone - and in his stead
The mystery of loneliness and love!


Great poem. Questions my own faith in God to be honest.
I can honestly say I have really been far even as decided to use even go want to do look more like.


I don't always post on UG, but when I do, I post in the Pit. Stay thirsty my friends.
#17
That... is too long.

But I'm off to bed
I wish you good night
Now to rest my head
rid me of a tiredly plight
Quote by 20cdndollars
You are god, floppypick



Floppydick


If that's how you read my name, leave a message saying so on my profile
#18
Here's one:

I got a bitch named Keisha
she a real dick-pleaser
Shorty from Cuba still workin' on her visa

by Ralph Emerson
"If I were not a physicist, I would probably be a musician. I often think in music. I live my daydreams in music. I see my life in terms of music."
— Albert Einstein
#19
Alright, here are two poems by me:

Carpe Diem and It's Works

I am blinded by the light
She emits upon my lonely figure.
She walks to me, I look at her eyes,
yet I turn away...
I feel I need to move...
But choose to stay...
Love grows upon my heart...
It attaches to me, oh
How I want her to know how
I feel.
Thoughts, voices, images of
all she is, empowering my mind.
My mind, glued upon her.
Drawn from my misery, I am
placed away from the dark;
In a spot, on the dot, and
onto the heart of hers.
I feel a comfort,
Maybe this is where I
Should Belong
Love struck, yes
Beautiful imagery... yes
But courage to face this angel... no.
I slowly get pulled away...
darkness binds me, I am dragged.
The angel fades away in my vision,
light disappears,
mind still glued to her.
I must break free.
I gain thoughts of bravery,
with a mix of my love
for this angel.
I seize the day
and relinquish myself
From this hole and out
onto her arms.
I hang on tight, a phrase
Pops into my head, one
That has helped me through...
"Carpe Diem!"
Meaning seize the day, and
forget the future, focus on the
present, and to
Go and Pursue...
"Carpe Diem!"
Alas, I am with my love...
my other side has disappeared
while my lighter side peaks out,
I feel an embracing hug...
and my heart has warmed...
I hug back with same force,
And feel we have connected.
My misery is over, I have
Begun anew, but
Best of all...
With her.


If Only...

My thoughts on you, pierce my mind,
like Cupid's arrow shot to the head.
I stop to think...
You're the first to pop up,
In reality, I sit alone,
Writing, drawing, thinking
of ways to express my feelings.
Yet, I try to say words when I walk to you,
But words refuse to come out, and
Another force draws me away to hate myself...
and avoid you.
As I sit writing, the gate to my mind opens.
Everything I want to say about you and
TO you... just leaks out.
My heart opens up and spills feelings...
Onto my paper.
Although I may feel good writing,
dark thoughts of tragedies between
You and I
Slowly kill me... Oh, why...?
Being able to think of you,
But wanting to die at the same moment.
If only passing words with you
Was as easy as thinking...
But that's just it...

"If only..."


Helpful criticism, please!
Oh and sorry about the wall of text.
私の名前はアジリョです

Quote by MarshmallowPies
I snapped my high E once and sliced my finger open, so I can only assume snapping the low E would put me into a coma or something.
#20
Bluebird
Charles Bukowski

there's a bluebird in my heart that
wants to get out
but I'm too tough for him,
I say, stay in there, I'm not going
to let anybody see
you.

there's a bluebird in my heart that
wants to get out
but I pour whiskey on him and inhale
cigarette smoke
and the *****s and the bartenders
and the grocery clerks
never know that
he's
in there.

there's a bluebird in my heart that
wants to get out
but I'm too tough for him,
I say,
stay down, do you want to mess
me up?
you want to screw up the
works?
you want to blow my book sales in
Europe?

there's a bluebird in my heart that
wants to get out
but I'm too clever, I only let him out
at night sometimes
when everybody's asleep.
I say, I know that you're there,
so don't be
sad.
then I put him back,
but he's singing a little
in there, I haven't quite let him
die
and we sleep together like
that
with our
secret pact
and it's nice enough to
make a man
weep, but I don't
weep, do
you?

also, I think the idea of posting your own poems is covered in another forum.