|
Post by Night on Sept 22, 2009 16:49:27 GMT -5
Random Painful Love Poem (Using words from Edgar Allan Poe's "Alone" (adding ed, s, ing, etc.) In English Class)
Awaken passions binds sorrow to joy Love, it's the fountain of life Others passed ill formed hearts As others are drawn by my depth of mystery Autumn taken the rest of spring as stormy skies rolled alone A red tinted heaven seen by every demon.
|
|
|
Post by Night on Sept 22, 2009 16:57:14 GMT -5
Thy Passion, Thy Love
Thy passion hath been crumbled, thy love hath been ignored. Thy passion hath been broken, thy love hath been torn. Thy passion as a rose, thy love as the thorns. Never to bloom, only to prick and to bleed. Thy pasion, no more, thy love, very sore. A passion turn to pain, a love turned to hate. Thy passion, thy love, tormented and far too late.
|
|
|
Post by Night on Sept 22, 2009 17:05:25 GMT -5
Beautiful Pain, and Tortured Pleasure
This beautiful pain, this tortured pleasure. A painful beauty, and a pleasureful torture. The touch of another either painful or pleasurable. May that touch torture me as it pleases, Or let that beautiful touch bring me pain. Allow that soft hand be rough, Or bruised lips be smooth. Rather the pain and torture of another than that alone. Rather the beauty and pleasure of another than that alone.
|
|
|
Post by Night on Sept 22, 2009 17:14:58 GMT -5
The Dream or Reality
Was it all real? Was it all dream? Was it truth? Was it lie? Could it be hidden behind steam? Could it be nothing more than a fly? There was a feeling of reality, but, There was a feeling of dream. Was it all real? Was it all dream? Where was the truth? In a name or breath? Where was the lie? In a look or phrase? Was it truth? Was it lie? Is this all real? Is this all dream? Is this truth? Is this lie? Was it better? Real, honest and true? Was it worst? Dream, fantasy, and lies? Was it life? Was it death? What was it? Real? Or dream?
|
|
|
Post by Night on Sept 22, 2009 17:23:33 GMT -5
MidNightGoddess (the poem not my book (in progress))
Who rules life? And who rules death? Who rules heaven? And who rules hell? Is it God and angels? Is it Devil or demons? No, the goddess of the night a balanced being Claims death and grants life at midnight. There is no god, no devil, no angels or demons. There is no life without death, all is balanced, By the MidNightGoddess.
|
|
|
Post by Night on Sept 22, 2009 17:30:09 GMT -5
My Sweet Love
The many words that show endearment, Are nothing short of genuine feelings. Though said unright and so unsent You may never understand my meanings. My sweet, my love, Are all the words I wish to speak. Get caught and mixed and won't be shoved. Be sure I'm true and hold my heart so meek, My sweet, my love, Forever yours even as tongue-tied as I. Feel sure of your pure white dove. Return my care, even nervous, or shy. Accept my love and in return my heart, My sweet, my love.
|
|
|
Post by Night on Jul 3, 2010 19:28:06 GMT -5
Water, water all around, but not a drop to drink. Fire, fire burn them down, hell their soul shall keep.
|
|
|
Post by Night on Oct 5, 2010 21:58:20 GMT -5
poetry assignment... Attachments:
|
|
|
Post by Night on Oct 12, 2010 22:28:12 GMT -5
In My Hand The blade kisses and caresses my flesh. Cold metal, brushing against heated skin. I'm not sure if I should cry in pain, Or pleasure, Or sigh in relief. It makes its' way across my wrist. It's moving up, Up along a pulsing line, Up my arm. It stops and pulls away. It quickly slides over my neck, Above one shoulder to the other. Easily licking my throat with its' sharp edge. There's no time to cry, no time to stop it, no time for help, It's too late, The red liquid shows, As it crawls down my chest. Showing my sorrow. Bleeding out the pain. My only regret being, Even though the knife was in my hand, I couldn't see the person controlling it, Killing me, couldn't see who was causing my death, My demise, my end.
|
|
|
Post by Night on Oct 17, 2010 16:07:00 GMT -5
group sound poem Attachments:
|
|