Poll: To be or not to be, that is the quest
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View poll results: To be or not to be, that is the quest
Red
2 22%
Blue
1 11%
Green
3 33%
Purple
4 44%
Voters: 9.
#1
4 Days. Multi Vote. Don't vote for your own; don't vote for all four. Good Luck.


A Night

I can't stand this I am falling asleep
My mind is lost their voices are so loud
I feel a chance and hear your distant weep
And you don't know that your parents are proud

They fight all night and you hear ev'rything
Your thoughts are shown as tears fall from your eyes
The lies are lost and so is harmony
And you wake as you want to say "good-bye"

And you walk down the stairs to see the fight
But you get crippled by your lousy "life"
You hit the floor they rush right by your side
They don't know what you've done for such a life

You wake with lights and faces all around
And you re'lize that your parents are proud



---Untitled---

Oh how it breaks my heart, this photograph.
An author hard at work, scrawling broken lines
To write a sonnet is such a hard task.
My results will never become divine.

The deadline is quickly approaching,
my feeble attempts at creating begin.
On my message, structure is encroaching.
This sort of composition should be sin.

Suddenly, inspiration has struck
my brain engages, ideas flow.
Pen finds paper and begins to run amok.
A sonnet forms on the page, not fast not slow.

This wasn't as hard as I had thought
since the rules of structure I followed not.




Procrastination

Sometimes a friend will challenge with a grin
aware that I can not resist a dare.
I'll rush to say yes, you can count me in
and never gave the risk a thought or care.

So when King James invited me to play
I took the bait and swallowed with a chomp.
I thought that I could surely find a way
to place or even win his little comp.

I did not start until it was too late
because of this, I realize I'm stuck,
a victim of my pride and sealed fate.
the words i write aren't worth a flying fuck

So writing just to get this sonnet done,
I will not have to take a minus one.



Jump

Oh how it would be nice to die in flames
A hero loved and not a lofty slave
These faces fall and now forgotten names
Just ordinary bones without a face
I'd like to die among the highest planes
Be strewn across the sky for all to see
Fly far above the basest cars and trains
Be more than ordinary human beings
And so I turn my face to ember skies
The leap from grounded flame changes to flight
Instead of slipping falls and halted rise
The long descent, a journey to the light
A simple act, a reach for paradise
The shouting millions never meet my eyes
Last edited by Jammydude44 at Jun 23, 2008,
#2
this group dissapointed me greatly. I mean, c'mon, two ars-poetic sonnet pieces?!?! (as cute as they were )

So, the two meta pieces were cleaner but the other two were more original. Oh well, *voted*
#3
HOLY F-ED UP IAMBIC PENTAMETER BATMAN!!!
To be honest most of them aren’t that bad, but seriously guys watch your form!
*voted*