Wikipedia:Sandbox/Poetry

When you

When you said gone, did you really mean me?
When you said lost, was that you?
When you said end, was it our forbidden bond?
It seems that it’s gone down the tube.


They’ve always been over-protective,
keeping you back from your dreams.
Before, that had never bothered you,
but now, is it them or is it me?


You always said that you would be there,
a cradle for when I would fall.
But when you would vanish so suddenly,
your lies, they leave me appalled.


Nights spent alone on the couch,
watching the thrillers on TV.
But, oblivious then, I had not realized,
the victim there resembled me.

*SMILYS FOR ALL!* Da.Tomato.Dude 21:30, 10 November 2006 (UTC)

The New and Improved Silence That Wishes not to be disturbed by unjustified removal

Hear the cricket song

In the distance a dog barks

Peace, Abraham's land.....

Rador 18:20, 11 December 2006 (UTC)

The Limerick of J.W.

There was an old man of Wikipedia

Who dreamed of making an Encylopedia,

So he stroked his ancient beard,

Till his retirement neared,

That crazy old man of Wikipedia.

The Slander of Jimbo Wales

There are strange things done 'neath the wiki sun

By the folks who troll and plot.

The wiki trails have their secret tales

That would make your blood run hot.

The wiki nights have seen queer sights,

But the night which comparison fails

Was that night on the edge of the Sandbox ledge

The slander of Jimbo Wales.

Rador

Apologies to Robert W. Service "Cremation of Sam McGee"

The Parable of Jimbo

Allah is dead,

Allah remains dead,

And Jimbo Wales killed him.

Comment: Bravo! Bravo!

Jimbo Wales part deux

Ah, what a faq you built,

So bomb,

It's so obvious,

You're complete, nay, whole.

Thou art is cool!

Have a Donut!

Rador 15 September 2006

The Parable of John Jacob Jingle-Heimerschmidtt

John Jacob Jingle-Heimerschmidtt is dead,

John Jacob Jingle-Heimerschmidtt remains dead,

And Michael Finnigan killed him.

Zinedine's Song

Zidane, Zidane
He will butt you all!
Zidane, Zidane
Head-butt, then a fall!

      ==Life...==

Always beautiful, radiant, 


comforting,  


like the rays of the sun


in mid-morning.

Enjoy this freedom!


Everyday, working;


everytime, studying;


there's also time for rest and play....


Always, it is pleasant....

Even the simplest organisms seem
to have a certain appreciation of life.
They are because they wish to be . . .
Helping and educating people, just like me!!!!!

              Dr. Vina Grace Z. Tana
              San Gabriel Elementary School

Founder's words

Oh boy, this has changed so much since I founded it! I wonder who's maintaining it...--Architect1 21:03, 4 July 2006 (UTC)

Books

The first one Pure poems One more time Peices

I'm a loner

Morning time
A big loner
Presents itself
Like no big surprise

Unlike the sun
I can be
Strangled
To death

Leaving me in
Peace, to rest
Free from my
Preoccupation

By Ole Rag

Know me

You don’t know me—you never will

Look inside for your deepest hell

Find the battle of the flame and fire

The same & different against the darkness & liars

Bottled inside this is what fuels us

But watch too closely & watch it turn to dust

Like the mist as you breath upon a window

Against the inside your mask is just a symbol

Now you know that you do not know

So remember this and watch me grow

Another mask to hide my face

I’m still at the starting line in the human race

This is not for help a plea

You don’t know me—don’t rescue me,im sleepy.

Broken 17:55, 15 August 2005 (UTC)

Ode to Bacon

Bacon - salty, fatty meat,

You make swoon me in the street.

Tasty, smokey, breaky treat,

I dream of you whilst in bed,

Then I eat you on my bread,

Eat too much! - Soon I'll be dead.

Right-hand-in-Penis

In my imagination
There is no hesitation
We walk together my right hand

I'm bored
Thanks to Mssrs. Anyone Stock Aitken Waterman

Martin

Martin had scared. Sacred teeth, held close to him. Nature is a man, his back turned to me, large, foreboding. A yellow bag of thin plastic, hundred of fake teeth pushing it, transforming it into a stressed, bulging monster. That was the visual grapevine fed to me before six. The evening would prove to be more tangled and incomplete, and I stared into that fogged vision of future as if turning my face into an icestorm. I wanted to box the old creep, Fate. Belt his ears into his skull.

      And evenly so, Martin.

I feel strong

I lived lonely long,
But I'm strong. -
They say it's wrong,
But I'm strong!

Feel free, to carry on. -
Feel strong!

Patrick's Poem

From The Perks of Being a Wallflower by Stephen Chbosky

Once on a yellow piece of paper with green lines

he wrote a poem

And he called it "Chops"

because that was the name of his dog

And that's what it was all about

And his teacher gave him an A

and a gold star

And his mother hung it on the kitchen door

and read it to his aunts

That was the year Father Tracy

took all the kids to the zoo

And he let them sing on the bus

And his little sister was born

with tiny toenails and no hair

And his mother and father kissed a lot

And the girl around the corner sent him a

Valentine signed with a row of X's

and he had to ask his father what the X's meant

And his father always tucked him in bed at night

And was always there to do it

Once on a piece of white paper with blue lines

he wrote a poem

And he called it "Autumn"

because that was the name of the season

And that's what it was all about

And his teacher gave him an A

and asked him to write more clearly

And his mother never hung it on the kitchen door

because of its new paint

And the kids told him

that Father Tracy smoked cigars

And left butts on the pews

And sometimes they would burn holes

That was the year his sister got glasses

with thick lenses and black frames

And the girl around the corner laughed

when he asked her to go see Santa Claus

And the kids told him why

his mother and father kissed a lot

And his father never tucked him in bed at night

And his father got mad

when he cried for him to do it

Once on a paper torn from his notebook

he wrote a poem

And he called it "Innocence: A Question"

because that was the question about his girl

And that's what it was all about

And his professor gave him an A

and a strange steady look

And his mother never hung it on the kitchen door

because he never showed it to her

That was the year that Father Tracy died

And he forgot how the end

of the Apostle's Creed went

And he caught his sister

necking on the back porch

And his mother and father never kissed

or even talked

And the girl around the corner

wore too much Make-up

That made him cough when he kissed her

but he kissed her anyway

because that was the thing to do

And at three a.m. he tucked himself in bed

his father snoring loudly

That's why on the back of a brown paper bag

he tried another poem

And he called it "Absolutely Nothing"

Because that's what it was really all about

And he gave himself an A

and a slash across each damned wrist

And he hung it on the bathroom door

because this time he didn't think

he could reach the kitchen door

comment: YES! I love that book, I had forgotten that poem! it's rather angsty, but I like it anyway. I like that it's thought out, that it travels. most angsty poems would only be the last four lines of this one.

comment: I cried the first time I read this poem. I love it. All I can say is amazing.

comment:This is amazing. I could cry.

COMMENT: I like my Revisions

I love this part

the sad and lonely bottom

byNarvil Wilbin, The Destroyer

no one will ever get to me,
the lonely poem said.
as far as everyone's concerned
i might as well be dead.
i could have been the one, it thought,
the pearl among the swine,
I could have rent a heart or two,
so poignant my design,
or driven sullen beggars
to a state of newfound bliss,
perhaps emboldened bashful lovers
to commingle with a kiss.
But no one ever reads this far,
and it would a crime,
to wail a dirge or sing a song
in ne'er-percepted rhyme.

I read you! It was rather good too! -- Alfakim -- talk 16:20, 23 October 2005 (UTC)

I absolutely adore that poem.

BEER

In heaven there is no beer!
That's why we drink it here!

Keystone Coors and Lone Star Light

Are all pretty in my sight

Beer Beer Beer is what I need
I'm a stupid kid who hates to read

The Time Traveller

There once was a man named "Dwight".
He travelled much faster than light.

He left one day

In a relative way

And arrived the previous night.

Linuxbeak | Talk | Desk 01:21, September 3, 2005 (UTC)

There once was a girl named d'
Who loved the rio phe'

She was right in her love

'Cos he loved her above

And they sunsetted all the way three

Then they turned the world round

To the sound of the sound

And they came across poetryyy

The Better and The Worser

Who should ever want whatever,
whom the bell wants whoever,
whence the wents went wenceward wo,
wither wallabies and water whoa,
washed and winced and wryed and wombed,
where is the west of west of west?
Margaret Thatcher is 23.

A Wee Beastie

A Glasgowegian asked once
If I appreciated Burns. -
When answering with a clear "Yes"
My arms and legs on fire he sets.

Poodles

A poodle by height is a poodle by sight,
And a poodle by sight is by smell I fear.
But do not worry for your odor,
for you are not a poodle my dear.

Unrequited Love

Just once to match the passion in those nut-brown eyes
Just once to touch in tender fashion those soft round thighs
And feel her rise in rapture in that brief, eternal origin of Life

An Antlerless Moose

There once lived an antlerless moose,
Whose fury was set on the loose.

He burst from the ground

And was eventually found

In a puddle of cerebral juice.

alfakim 21:33, 29 September 2005 (UTC) update: don't edit other people's poems for them.

"O"

Orbit On Over,
Only Ourselves,
Our Own Origin,
Obligates... Overwhelms.

Random Limerick

There once was a man from Peru
Who dreamed he turned into a shoe

He awoke with a fright

In the mid of the night

To find, that his dream had come true

The Rocky Mountains (a Haiku)

The Rocky Mountains,
Snow-capped, with majestic blue,
tower above all.

Beware

Beware of the letter E,
for it's more Evil than we.

Food by Courtney

Cheeses are oft yellow,
When they're not blue.
Avocado is green hued,
And pears are, too.

Ode to a Grecian Parsnip

Why?!
Why did you do this?!
You didn't have to - she wasn't going to the senate
She loved you.
Thrice
O! For a lawnmower to cut your vegetable sagacity down,
for she was she.

In South Africa

Pride is needed
Pride in being good
Being the best you can be

response

its simple but pretty nice if you're going for what i saw in it In South Africa
It is needed

la dictadura

La dictadura, dondè en Cuba,

Ya no puede medrar.

Por que le falta, por que no tiene,

Una vota para apoyar.

Una cosa, no me de risa,

Cuando no soy un camisa.

Ya se van los rebelditos,

Porque vienen los opresorcitos.

Poco después de, ustedes vienen,

Los americanos venir para ayudan.

Para la ayuda, llegar tarde,

Y muchas mas moró por que si el.

--1 black hand

O, Thou Kentucky Fried Egg

O, thou Kentucky Fried Egg,
How gently you rolled into the world,
Down the side of an old chicken's leg,
And then you were ruthlessly hurled

By boat across land and great sea,
Epic was your maiden-grace voyage,
Sailing to the land of the Free!
Not foreseeing thy untimely destroyage.

And, O, thou Kentucky Fried Egg,
Then at last you ended up in a pan,
Not given a fair chance to beg,
But brusquely cracked open by man.

Out slopped your gooey-gloop innards,
And unto the heat did they fry,
And O, thou Kentucky Fried Egg,
In boiling deep fat did you die.

--Alfakim | (talk) 16:39, 19 October 2005 (UTC)

Long ago I flew away

Long ago I flew away;
where I'm now I shall not say. -
Now the sky is my domain:
I fly thru air and fly thru rain.

True/false

They said that it was false,
They said that it was true.
I wondered what they were talking about,
And if any of them knew.

Ode to Persons

(this is actually a song, not an ode...)

To the tune of 'B-I-N-G-O'...

There was a girl that wrote this poem
and Georgia was her name-o,
G-E-O-R-G,
other stuff does not fit
This verse doesn't quite rhyme-it
And Georg isn't her name-o

This poem was slowly falling apart
But nobody could save-o

• pause*-C-R-A-P
  

I am late for ballet
But I do not care
Because writing poems is more fun

There was a girl that loved Arthur
And *squeeze this up into a few syllables* Iamnotatlibertytodisclosehername-o
But it starts with an H
And it ends in -annah
She will get mad at me
But you all are strangers.

There was a verse that ended now
And this one was its name-o
De de de dede
Cha cha slide to the left
Palmy palms, northy north
This sure is the end-o.


lol lol lol funny funny funny c(:

An Old Man

There was an old man, with daughters, two
And both of his daughters said "Pooh-pooh"
"That's just like Madelene" the old man said.
As soon as he'd said it, he died in bed

How I Wish It Were Summer

How I wish it were summer, with it's air and sky

The joy of cool water when my throat has gone dry

The dew-laden grass and the breezes' fresh smell

The sound of lawnmowers and the trees a-swell

But now it is over and what glee it will be

When this winter has ended and sweet summer I see

If

If I were you, I would have saved him.
If I were you, I wouldn't let her walk all over him.
If I were you, I would have made him stand up to her.
If I were you, I wouldn't have let him out of my sight.
If I were you, I would have kissed him, just to make him stay in this world.
If I were you, I would have saved him.
If I were you, I would have listened to me and not blamed his death on myself.
If I were you, I would have anyway.
If I were you, I wouldn't want to live either.
If I were you, I wouldnt be here either.

Foiled Deal

It started as a simple deal
to take over the world;
but problems started to appear
as next events unfurled.

From whence it came was where it went,
as there were some to foil it;
they turned against and fought like beasts
and flushed it down the toilet.

But why was so was never known,
for records were confuzzled;
even those that wrote this poem
quity simply, are quite puzzled.

The moral of this story is:
though you might disagree,
the only way to be content
is begging on your knees.

The leaders never find a thing
like happiness in work;
they never dream of taking wing
or calling you a jerk.

The meaning here is much concealed,
it can't go with the flow;
though there is none in blood congealed
or bright and shining snow.

It can't be found in words alone;
you'll also need a key.
Though what it is I will not tell,
unless you pay a fee.

Zzyzzva's Rise

Channel one, Channel two, flicking the dial, surfing.

Ţight as a trashcan, the old mental hospital was.

A wandering bit of metal, pinned to a stack of rat-mold reds, 

old cars, she said, it's game over in Wisconsin parking lots,a lot of those could've-been-pristine plastic playgrounds melting into globs of waving gravy hating the eyes of its viewer... of sitting piles of broken playthings, and germs made of cheese by the thousands, they're gathering momentum, they're swarming all over that rich man's first born, his lips are eaten away, his skull is a glaring white plate, his eyes are soft tokens for the birds, our teeth are bigger than the next lake over.

Channel Change One

That's right, children. That slow descent into being indoors too much, all television and no stars, they call it seasonal depression. And you weren't too sunny in summer, neither.

Channel Change Two

[a woman answers a telephone in a polite, friendly voice] Stolen gym shirts? then a man reads from a sheet of paper Who is this? and she promptly replies Susie Creamcheese? the Zappa referee? and he scoffs I never knew it to be true myself. You didn't like being a child? My aunt put bananas in my ears. Big, yellow ones. I'm American to hear that. It's all right, you don't have to apologize to me.

Channel Change Three

I am the new pollution!

Click.

Death

Death XXVII

   Then Almitra spoke, saying, "We would ask now of Death."

And he said:

You would know the secret of death.

But how shall you find it unless you seek it in the heart of life?

The owl whose night-bound eyes are blind unto the day cannot unveil the mystery of light.

If you would indeed behold the spirit of death, open your heart wide unto the body of life.

For life and death are one, even as the river and the sea are one.

In the depth of your hopes and desires lies your silent knowledge of the beyond;

And like seeds dreaming beneath the snow your heart dreams of spring.

Trust the dreams, for in them is hidden the gate to eternity.

Your fear of death is but the trembling of the shepherd when he stands before the king whose hand is to be laid upon him in honour.

Is the shepherd not joyful beneath his trembling, that he shall wear the mark of the king?

Yet is he not more mindful of his trembling?

For what is it to die but to stand naked in the wind and to melt into the sun?

And what is to cease breathing, but to free the breath from its restless tides, that it may rise and expand and seek God unencumbered?

Only when you drink from the river of silence shall you indeed sing.

And when you have reached the mountain top, then you shall begin to climb.

And when the earth shall claim your limbs, then shall you truly dance.

Khalil Gibran

Dude

Dudes who surf

Dudes who cry

Hot babes I descry

You never know

When I make sense

Or if I have that pretence

For I'm a dude

And you are nothing

Though you pretend you're something

Dude...

Say I

Whoa...

Say you

Digi Tech

The last lesson of Digital Technology

Study all around

But not here

Whispy breeze hangs outside with the sun

Another year gone

Gives way to partial freedom

Until the next ends

A haiku: Poop comes out my butt I wipe me until it gleams Then poop comes anew.

       Syl-la-bles is long
    Syllables is the way to
       Stretch out this poem.

Haikus

Haikus are censors
17, conform, don’t speak
Well, you can suck my


A spider so small
He is carried by the wind Isn’t frightening

The bugs they bite me
The grass it is so itchy
People are much worse


Hypocritical.
Japanese business people
Don’t respect nature

Everything is loud
There is no longer silence
But I cannot hear.

I laugh at freedom
The dreams of America
They have only wet dreams.

If they should curse you
They are not afraid at all
You are meaningless.

If you are alone
(To fear death is to love life)
Have no fears of death

Sky so low today
The birds scream in the treetops
the machines kill us.

Fight me you will win
The worms will eat our flesh
Do you still feel strong?

Sitting in my class
Writing a Wiki Haiku
Wow, this poem's bad.

I Dislike eBay

Newton Poetry Makes me happy in all my pantular regions

I was going to get an Apple Newton to write f--k poems with

But some jerkwad a-s Sniped my bid at the last few Minutes, pissed me off

...so now I hate eBay. >_< Cernen

Melencholy Blues

Wake up in the morning to go back to bed

With the same bad song playing in your head

And there's nothing to fear 'cus everythings to dread

It's just the melencholy blues

Where there's nothing to gain and nothing to lose

And you ain't put there but it's something you choose

It's the melencholy blues

Roses are red...

Roses are red Violets are blue

In Soviet Union Bad joke expects you.

Roses are blue Violets are red

In India We expect this too!

Wiki

I left you a note of love on Wiki but by the time you noticed it had been nominated for deletion

or attacked by a vandal on wheels and you dumped me

One musical note.

Sounded by a unknown instrument
one single note is played
The sweetness of it
fills me with pleasure
as it reachs my ears
vibrating through the air
This one lonely note
touches the hearts of all it passes
going through time and space
towards eternity.
dposse 01:42, 13 December 2005 (UTC)

i love your poem--Ayleen 01:15, 8 July 2006 (UTC)

Sigh. And six is

when he left
i had..had...had....had.......had
a dog
but!! she's dead. now

The Last Time You Shewed

Your face... around... my
corner... I...
cried
Skittles

Comment: You cried Skittles?

Comment: But of course. Taste the rainbow.

Caving Limerick

There once was a man who went caving
He had no experience in shaving
He got stuck on a rock
Cut off his...beard
And never again he went caving!

I bet you never knew

That notable comedy central news host, Jon Stewart, is in fact one of the origional framers of the United States Constitution--Jonathan Stuart Leibowitz 07:39, 24 December 2005 (UTC)

Untitled

Fighting times of blood and pain
Trying to get up again
Falling down and losing hope
Darkened times of trial and murder
Always bring us to our knees
--Corinne Adams 02:10, 29 December 2005 (UTC)

In My Church

My church meets everyday

Not just Sunday

And the congregation is most beautiful

After a rainy morning—

The trees come in their usual velvet

Wearing crystal droplet earrings.

The rocks shine—as if to brag on agelessness

And to give a platform to the chorus

Of temporary singing streams.

Birds calmly sit listening to the earth lecture

Under the endless skylight

And the sun sends periodic beams

To remind us all that we are one.

We all come together, not to genuflect,

But to celebrate our renewal,

And it’s in our singular celebration

That we find our God.

Out Of The Cradle

Out of the cradle,

But I an still rocked,

I ask for milk,

And they will give me blood,

They have given me air not to breathe but to sigh,

They make me to run,

Before I learn to walk.

the tragedy of being male

i feel left out
i don't experience vaginal dryness
i have no vagina
-- T.o.n.y

A Day in the Garden

It begins in the morning, Tilling the earth With my rough hands.

She works in the evening, her Golden hair flowing as she Works with steady passion.

I wait all day For our meeting, when paths cross And eyes avert.

The moment swiftly passes And grows throughout the day, Blooming in the dusk.

And when night comes, it Pricks and pulls the Petals back to the Earth.

For a rose is a Weed that has been loved, and so Transcends in light.

Take me in your Sweet-soft grasp and Sow me where you will, And I shall take Watch over you Until nigh’ is nil.

Poem about Losers.

Finders Keepers... LOSERS SUCK. This is what i say In dismay When someone loses a craft I say go die by the wrath of a shaft he couldnt even do the math Cuz he lost his calculator.

Poem about Losers.

Finders Keepers... LOSERS SUCK. This is what i say In dismay When someone loses a craft I say go die by the wrath of a shaft he couldnt even do the math Cuz he lost his calculator.

__monEy__

money is green and iam lean because my name is ian i luv charlie sheen but he is also very mean but i like chow mien money also consumes you but u must be like a mule and not say ewwww! but since mules always come in trio you got to have some grillz!!!

Beef Tongue

who would I serve it to

Latin

Aegre dico

Aegre dico quid quid/ vero dicere non possum;/ stultus sum sed/ timeo si non dico quid quid debere/ ut meus pectore mortit/ Itaque scribo/ nam epistula non crubescit/ Itaque scribo/ Ut cognosce potes/ Ita vera/ Semper fidelis sum/ nam vero te amo/ te amo ab imo pectore

(another) Latin poem

Mea vita, meī amor / fugistī ā mē, mihi ablatus es / cur mē deseris? cur tē misī? / vita amissa, dormis. / cupiēns vitam amittere, at nōn potiēns, / in terrā maneō aeternitātem.

To Tana, Lines II

I can see us
meeting up
as a psychedelic fungus
on the same rye plant

we had died earlier that morning
you were a firefighter
I was a dallas nightclub owner

you were chasing elephants
to coat my spine
in the ivory

you walked into a bear trap
starved to death
became a bed of moss
where fawns lay down to sleep

the harvest comes
we just loaf
in veils of grain
but things heat up
as we strip down
and bake and bake and bake

Delayed Punishment

What need have I to save you now when I can take what I so desire? You cannot strike me, so I will cut away your skin and leave the pockmarked mutilation as an eternal testament to my almighty power.

I’ll pour my foul breath into your fragile lungs. I’ll annihilate your slight life with my demands and my vomiting, smoking, towers. and you shall not react.

When I see that black gold flowing through your effervescent veins, I swear to you now, your thin, white silk shall not save you from my needle. I’ll destroy what you’ve left so I can have what I desire.

And what when I have used my bounty? Leave it where I might need to build my homes? Nay, I shall fling it into your eyes, your ears, your mouth and I shall expect you to take it in good faith and not change.

Now you’re avenging the lack of respect I’ve for you. You fling out your storms, your shakes, your waves. But I’ll rebuild and blame it on you. For you can never stop me.

- Katami 12:08, 6 June 2006 (UTC)

Gibit

My name is gibit,some people call me flibit.Today i dropped my gun and i didn't get the pun.Now i lost my winning lottery ticket.That's why they call me flibit. But flibit is only what the other glibits call me. They don't know i'm reslly a dibit.

I'd like to write a poem But mine just come out wrong So next time I'll think I'll try To write a little song.

A poem

I'm a New Poem

I'm a New Poem

I'm writing a new poem it doesn't have to rhyme

I'm writing a new poem though I don't really have the time

I'm writing a new poem it really is a crime for me to write a whole new poem that can't be really mine

The Green Fields of My Mind

(wrote it a couple of years back, thought I'd share)

Why do I put myself through this pain - nothing is wrong but still I feel insane. I do not like what I do anymore and suddenly my life seems destitute of any meaning

I remember feeling like this when my world had once become a nightmare. Lacking hope and meaning, rebellion being my strongest feeling

Now I remember why I started walking the green fields - there I found tranquility and isolation as my remedy. Lost in the woods made being found again a little bit of good

--Zarbowski 13:41, 20 May 2006 (UTC)

Love

Some people say love is blind, bit I think love is beautiful. Everything and everyone can feel love -
Birds, humans, and animals - all living creatures.
Love means caring and showing understanding.
Love means being there when someone is in need.
Love is being a friend.
You can love your pets, your doll, your favourite chair, your friends and family.
Love can be just about anything you want it to be.
Love is a choice.

      --Tinkerb3ll 03:26, 21 May 2006 (UTC)

My mummy

My mummy says never to do that

My mummy says always to do this

My mummy does that

My mummy doesn't do this

I am bad at writing poems

But I still contribute my lines

Some people may already know em'

Coal is mined in dark mines

Computers are raised in factories

Frogs are raised in puddles

Computers are satisfactery

Frogs just befuddles

Tellohd Zymb Tiendfre

Zymb Tamen Oisa Oendld

Oi

John Salat's Poem

Sometimes I wish If only I'd get a kiss From Jonathan H. Salat.

If he would kiss me That would be bliss. Oh Jonathan H. Salat.

O I wish I were John Salat.

Drinking Alone At Four In The Morning

You said you would call me tonight I waited longer than right. For hours I stared at the phone, Downing whiskey sours, But you still haven't called me tonight.

The end of the night is near. 'Guess I need another beer 'Cause you still haven't called me tonight, And we both know that's not right.

Some say I have a problem, Well, maybe my problem is you. Cause you still haven't phoned, And now I'm alone, Though before I thought we were two.

== Owned ==

I wear their brand on my chest

and my underpants.

Even the brand rebels have the brands they represent:

band brands and skater brands,

Chic and Chateau couture.

The Gap between the Garage and the Gucci

grows wider with every year.

Wear them or you're not worthy.

Display your id.

In or out.

But don't ever be caught without,

even on weekends,

in your sweats.

Cuz they're watching;

you've been branded.

They own you.

00:22, 30 May 2006 (UTC)Dragonnfire

Comment: A Xanga link on a page about brand names? Intended or not, I like your brand (yukk yukk) of irony.

A Message

A Message

A message to this world,
To this world of criticism,
To this world of terror,
To this world of anarchy.

What is the use of war?
To break our hearts?
Or to ruin our long-sought happiness?
Whatever it is,
It serves no purpose.

Children crying, people dying,
Homeless wandering the streets,
In search for a lost hope,
A hope they will never find,
If we carry on like this.

Hear the silent screams of the lost,
Hear the ringing bells of death,
Hear the reaper of war approaching us,
Hear this vital message,
Hear the happiness that will be found if we stop war.

Lil Miss Fail 07:59, 2 June 2006 (UTC) Ella Hingston © 2006

XYZ

My name is XYZ
My secret weapon is a pea
I live in the land of the free
The coolest person there is me

Senseless nonsense

Wikipedia nonsense

Bores me senseless

147.91.173.31 09:16, 6 June 2006 (UTC)

The seven Of thee

We're off to build the pettycoat temple
Aha aha -- lala lala
Ahoy the ships be strong and nimble
but their planks they be dead ones
laughing and mocking and acting
and sipping delicious green tea
I'm willing to bet that hospitalitiy
is not of the thing that is not fun
but will not be for it has not come.

AGHAST!

The cannons they shudder in fright
hurling their fodder in digust and nausea
vomit onward artilary!
keep up ye good ol' fight!

WRAAACK!

The parrot he comes in from the eastern wind
to settle disputes from the shark and his fin
who did not want to know that he had not what he wanted
Put down ye' gin, be quick and tend, to the holes that have blasted
their way into the hull of our sturdy nimble ship of corpse wood!

BLAST!

Deep into the night
and still not luck with the tales of Bosnia!
These cruel men be bullies of quite
The anonymous grail.

we had no intention to hurt their fleet
our ambush was an accident indeed
but they still attack from all flanks
unwilling to stop while we're unable to flee!

(part 2)

Canned ultimatums rest in the deep pipeways
of the little beasts and their little tinker toys
They say they be of great deeds, but I say nay
you see
for they are all simply quite betrot

betrotten betrotten betrotten forgotten what he was supposed to gotten.
into the nellyway we see now for sure
that all things of his things are never and always more
muha blue caw
from the crow with wings of nothing

short and choppy his sentences flew
ugly and hideous, malformed and rubbery
these things will never never do
they do not roll off the tongue easy
little evil winged bats of Hell
so filthy these lines are that I don't think they are worthy
of being the art of the gallery of The Official Collection of Art That Shuns All Else Heresy

wrapped in napsack made of napsackery
onward travelled the poor little bakery
never would its customers understand that its supply was not in demand.
its jokes were stale and were beginning to mold
these people they did not like eating cottage cheese
so they threw mistery bakery out of the StandUp Club
their clubs they raised up high to bludgeon the smudgeoning bakery of cottage cheesery
ouch ouch you hurt me you filthy clubs, I should murder you with my bread arrrgh!!!
unable was the bakery to think, so his thoughts did not fit to conventional poetry
thus making his short and choppy sentences fly even more shortly and choppily
in fact his poetry was such a mess that it begain to slowly not even resemble poetry but was in
fact
more of just a monologue of endless proportions with words that streamed forth from caverns that
would never
be of such worth, in fact now that I think about it might be even difficult to understand this mans
simple thoughts for they races out in such blobbishness that in fact only the great astute
scholars of the modern age with their spectacles raises could in fact
actually
understand the Greek that he in fact had actually made from his unthinking thoughts that in fact
came from the mind of the bakery. How dare his customers at the Standup stand up and club him inside
the Club how dare they he said actually he thought. I will murder them he thought
but then what will my reputation be?
he thought
aaaargh!
he thought
I know! I'll rig up a pulley system. Brilliant!
he thought
and thus his thoughts raised on in monologue of what he was thinking of. More like a paragraph they
became. in fact...
he thought

roses are red

Roses are red
That plant is green
I just ate it
Ow, my spleen!

---Obli (Talk)^? 22:12, 11 June 2006 (UTC)

heaven's

a place i go in the summer

you have no right to be there

everything i think goes there

and you can't see everything i think

otherwise it would be a very unfair game

heaven's a place i go in the summer

because you are never there.

The Strange land

I walked along the road,

And nearly stepped on a toad.

He was green and slimy and full of flys,

So i let him be and passed on by.

Next i came to a golden green lake,

Whent for a drink and swallowed a snake.

He wirggled and wriggled inside of me,

And eventally came out when i had to pee.

Laurence 1 08:41, 24 June 2006 (UTC)

Too many spelling errors. 63.23.98.213 16:09, 26 June 2006 (UTC)

Austrian Man

There one was a man from Vienna, He used to play the piana'.. But one day his finger slipped And undid his zip.. And out popped a hairy banana!! and so goes the story of the man from Vienna..

Fix My Car

A crazy hit
Against the fence
That's hot
That's hot
Don't play me
Dance Dance ******
--littlebit_KRT 15:38, 28 June 2006 (UTC)KRT "aka" SugarSugar

The Baby Bird

You gave me one last worm,

And pushed me from the nest.

I flapped me wings

As hard as I could,

And fell down on me chest.

I see the kitty coming now, He's ready to digest.

So I'll see you in heaven,

I know you did your best.

Jill

There once was a fair maiden named jill,

She used a Dynamitye stick for a frill,

We found her vagina in North Carolina,

And bits of her tits in brazil.

My Head

My head is full of random stuff,

Like rusty bread and bits of fluff,

And talking pies with googly eyes,

And stuff that doesn't rhyme.

There once was a man from Leeds

There once was a man from Leeds,

Who swallowed a packet of Seeds,

In half an hour his dick was a flower,

and his balls all coverd in weeds.

comment: I like it :-)

For once

Interrupting my stall independence,

Came a brilliant dazzling sunlight,

Having nothing except good intentions,

Brought a mix of old hopes and freights.

ellol 21:15, 1 July 2006 (UTC)

Throughout my life, in my head.

Deep down inside, I wish I fled.

From all the troubles of my youth.

In between the lies and truth.

To live is love, To love is to lead. To lead is to live.

Ode To The Floppy Disk

Floppy disks are really great,

But for data to load you'll have to wait.

There a work of art,

With slender grace,

But for your files theres not much space.

Laurence 1

Lost Love

Oh Laura, babe

Why will you not love me? My loins are

Hot for your sweet loving. You torture my

Soul. The thought of your sweet fingertips trickling down the

Seams of my

Clothing is more than I can

Bear. I think I will take a shower now.

Laurence 1

The Cup of Imagination

Thoughts, ideas, feelings and love,

From The Cup come all the above.

Swirling around in a pool of lust,

Imagination drifts like a sprinkling of dust.

Laurence 1

The Fart

It can't be touched, can't be felt,

Can't be seen, but can be smelt.

It flies through air and over land,

And those who smell it run.

Laurence 1

Fire and water

Fire and water,

Enimies of old:

Fire is hot and water is cold.

Fire burns,

Water cools,

Only one collects in pools.

Laurence 1

The Seasons

Another new,

Another old,

In the winter the earth gets cold.

Up,

Down,

All around,

Excreation produces a mound.

Release

The curtain around me keeps me hidden Like a horse never to be ridden The darkness closes in A cold blade against my skin I clench my fist, my fingers tight The sharp blade reflects the light I feel the tears hit my chin As the blade breaks the skin No tears of pain or even sadness A sense of relief degree of gladness Slowly I unclench my fist My eyes turn towards my wrist I can see the blood and tell-tale mark But inside my head it’s all still dark They told my to smile I did for a while But it built up inside Until I chose to hide With my one true friend The blade and the release it can send

...blackrainbow...

Kavanagh, Kavanagh

Kavanagh, Kavanagh, you smell like poo,

Kavanagh, Kavanagh, I really hate you.

Ordeal of the Author

If I had a story to tell,

I’d write it down and yell:

Hey! Everybody, I wrote a story!

But alas, I don’t have a story,

Laurence 1

Comment: I love you :)

Eternally Lost

Silhouetted on the mountainside

Beneath stars ever glimmering

A coat of shining, brilliant gold

Sat in the darkness shimmering.

Though darkened were the skies above

And the land shadowed and gray,

The air shone with glittering light

Where the golden creature lay.

Its head hung low in mourning

The lupine creature sighed,

For something now long-lost,

for someone who had died.

Cherished memories revealed

A wolf of crimson red

Before the Reaper's clutches

Claimed her and left her dead.

Romping in the grassy fields

Jubilant and carefree;

Chasing the forest animals

Under the mountain-lee.

But those memories are fading

And the crimson wolf is lost,

And here the golden wolf sits mourning

In the early winter frost.

My Love My Angel

On my bed during the nights, i have sought the one whom my soul has loved. Like an apple tree so you are my angel, my love

The Sweet Smell of Rain

Tis nothin betta than the smell of rain on a hot sunny day

Tis nothin betta than the auroma of rain on a ground so parch

Tis nothin sweeta than the smell of rain

Rain, Rain, go away come again another day --Ayleen 23:25, 26 July 2006 (UTC)

Today I Met Him

TODAY I MET HIM. YES THE ONE! I SAW A BRIGHT LIGHT IN HIS DARK EYES. I FELT THE HEAT, THE CHILL IN THE AIR. IT WAS DARK OUTSIDE, BUT THERE WAS A DIVINE LIGHT SURROUNDING HIM. HE WAS CARRYING THE TORCH OF LIFE, AND SPREAD IT ALL OVER. NO SOUL WAS UNTOUCHED BY HIS ASTONISHING POWER. HE WAS IN SEARCH OF PAIN, SORROW AND ALL THE SIN THAT WE CARRY OTHERWISE. HE WANTED TO TAKE IT ALL. HE FOUGHT THE ODDS AND GAVE EVERY SINGLE DROP OF HIS BLOOD TO CLEANSE OTHERS SOUL. HE IS PRESENT IN EVERY ONE; ONLY THOSE WITH SPOTLESS HEART CAN SEE THE RADIANCE. EVEN THE BLIND CAN SEE THE GLOW, THE SPARK, AND THE FLASH OF LIGHT. U WANT TO MEET THE ONE? U GOT IT. Just look in your hearts

Melon

There once was a yellow monster,

His name was mr greg.

His faltulence was amusing,

Until he was dead.

Just the day before,

When he was eating a bowl of fruit.

He ate an entire melon,

And his trousers gave a toot.

He claimed he Was feeling rather strange,

So he sat on the fruit bowl.

He strained and yelled and angered himself,

But out came a melon... whole

your kind of my best friend

mrs matis was her name yelling phrases was her game like dont touch that and youre on your own i didnt like her all that much...

I don't violate laws!

It appears that laws were made to be broken. A taboo in itself. But though this phrase has now long been token, It's justified in itself.

Though the words above have an imperfect rhyme, I know that I'm better than you. Because I am so cool and I know, with some time, I'll be sure to make good of my shoe.

Some may ask, HUH!? And some may seek guidance, but I hope that you'll all agree, I never say, DUH!? And I know that, with time, you'll stop smelling like pee.

thoughts

This strange motion of life will always amaze me,
girls boys men women become a circle of color and flesh a kaledioscope of smiles and dreams,
melted down into one solid hue
Looks exchanged , words whispered and a neverending chatter
disguise the truth that haunts us all.

The unspoken knowledge some pretend to own

It is the thing that defines us, in secret,
alluding to an occasion but never voiced.
In our quest to transcend we never end our denial of what we Know , though we say it isn't so,
It couldn't possibly be the answer !
But it is.

I am only the monkey I am , not the Monkey I would like to be. Sean Wallace 2006

I Do Not Want To

I do not want to paint the shed
I do not want it on my head
I do not want to use the glue
Because i just want to think of you

Second Try

My first poem was all one line

so i shall give another try

i climbed a tree that was a pine

this poem is not about a guy

Meaning

What it means?
It means nothing
Every thing is meaningless
Then what it means?
--Thampi06 06:02, 19 July 2006 (UTC)

The Man and his Van

Not so long ago,

In a land not far away,

There lived a man,

Who drove a van,

Every single day.

He drove over the grass,

He drove over the hills,

And late one night,

After a pint,

He made a few road kills!

Laurence 1 15:49, 25 July 2006 (UTC)

The Midnight Walker

Atop a mountain late at night,

A midnight walker did get a fright;

For as he gazed at the silver moon,

Up ahead came his doom.

But he was unaware,

Carried on without a care,

Up the mountain,

Past the fountain,

All the way to Its lair.

His footsteps woke It from its sleep:

They did not sound like those of sheep.

Tasty human flesh was near,

Better than cow or deer!

The dragon slowly raised its head,

Got out of its comfey bed.

Streched its claws,

rubbed its paws,

Getting ready to be fed.

The midnight walker carried on,

Untill he reached the door:

On and On, this cave was long,

And in the darkness more.

Atop the mountain late that night,

The midnight walker got his fright;

As suddendly from the pit,

Came a strong and forceful mit.

It grabed him by the waste,

And pulled him in with hast!

Laurence 1 15:57, 25 July 2006 (UTC)

External comment: entreia writes: that is really good! the only problem is is that the rythm is a a bit patchy but it doesn't really matter!

(comment) it reads like a short story, but i like it --Ayleen 00:08, 27 July 2006 (UTC)

A Revision Accommodating Tourists

Tower Bridge is falling down,

falling down,

falling down.

Tower Bridge is falling down,

my fair lady.

Ode to Bad Poetry

Ode to bad poetry!!!

This poetry doesnt rhyme

and i dont know what its about

hmmm

what should i write after this

hmmm

i know!

ODE TO BAD POETRY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

lol

lmao

rofl

lmao

lol

im bored

ODE TO BAD POETRY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

you can probably tell im bored

hmmm

i dont know what to say

so ill say:

ODE TO BAD POETRY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

The Moon

As the moon goes round the earth,

We see it by the light;

Reflected from the sun,

Which is very very bright.

It always turns the same side to us,

So sometimes its in dark;

Other times partly lit,

And often gibbous.

When the moon first appears,

As a crescent in the sky;

It travels from west to east,

As the days go by.

At full moon after waxing,

The moon begins to wane;

Until it disappears,

Under the horizonal plane.

Laurence 1 16:53, 26 July 2006 (UTC)

dog walking

Dog Walking, If your dog does not walk well then get a rope lead. Do not use flexi leads.

With your left hand and hold

the top with your right hand and

don't let the dog get in front of you.

Get he/she to sit befor they cross the road.

If it is a big dog get it a harness.

When another dog comes say

Leave.

Make your dog pass other dogs while it is been trained.

--I found it on a new page patrol. the spacing is my own. by user:Comhall. Jon513 20:00, 26 July 2006 (UTC)

LOST

Time runs fast, I didn't notice I was left Things around me sudden change My plans fail... I lost my dream, I lost opportunity, I lost my track, I am lost.. lost.. lost.. I am in nowhere No path No direction.. by charmie 082506/5:52PM

LIFE

this is not a poem but an observation EVER ASK What is the meaning of L.I.F.E. Survival I'd SAY From THE FIRST INTAKE OF BREATH DRAWN YOU NEVER WANT TO LOSE IT (LIFE INTERNAL FOR EVER) --Ayleen 23:24, 26 July 2006 (UTC)

Fun and Games

I played a party game,

Hit my head -

Couldn't remember my name.

The doctor said I'd had a bump,

Which later turned into a nasty lump.

I couldn't play the game no more,

Life now is a real bore.

ode to a rube

swine

oh rube,
you're skin so rough and dry,
i tell you things though u can't reply.


oh rube,
your skull so dense and filled not with thought
but anger and greif, remaining so haught

oh rube,
lets hear the ending once more
those perfect set of words.
if only those perfection ran parallel,
to those scrutinies and efforts left un-sighted,
left you sore and and un-sure
of what your longing
--20:55, 27 July 2006 (UTC)

Prepare My Rations (a riddle)

In days of ol' I was part of a note, When Rome was great and ovid wrote. I'm the same shaped letter--small and large-- The main support of an ocean barge, There are more than seven of me today, So prepare my rations and be on your way. I'm a dog, horse, cow, and a plane, A clamp that holds in ahot steel rain.

David Houston 02:37, 28 July 2006 (UTC)

Management by Emergency

not a moment too late-dead with what could have been communicate-dead

all looking perfect-dead is lost and made gone

The frog and the Dog

Once there was a little brown dog,

Who got excited and swallowed a frog.

But when the dog,

Who swallowed the frog,

Slipped on a log,

He burped,

And out poped the frog.

Laurence 1 14:49, 28 July 2006 (UTC)

Burps and Farts

Burps and farts, burps and farts,

They send sky-high the Greenhouse charts.

Gases are passed out from behind,

And to the enviroment their not very kind.

The farts and burps,

Slips and slirps,

All contrubitue to eco-hurts.

Laurence 1

A Mouse Called Keith

There once was a mouse called Keith,

who circumcised boys with his teeth,

it wasn't for lesiure,

or sexual pleasure,

but to get to the cheese underneath!

That's disgusting --Elimisteve 00:02, 3 August 2006 (UTC)

The man down the Road

Hello I said to the man down the road,

With whom a conversation it was hard to hold.

He answered: "Hi Ho!",

And what would you know,

That was the man who lived down the road.

Laurence 1 15:44, 28 July 2006 (UTC)

Free Gardening

One day I decided to go for a walk,

Met a fit girl and started to talk.

She gave me her number and asked me to call,

And all I could do was nod and drool.

Later that day I rang the number,

But woke her up as she was taking a slumber.

She said to come round in a sexy voice,

And go round I did, I had no choice.

I arrived at her house at half past eight,

Looked up the path and past the gate.

And there she was standing at the door,

Longing for company and maybe more...

I aproached and smiled, thats all I could do,

But there's something shes hiding, and that I knew.

She grabbed me and with passion we kissed,

I thought: "All my life, that's what I've missed!"

She let me go and we both held our gaze,

Love and lust is a emotional maze.

But I senced a change, something was wrong,

All this time, had I been led along?

She held my hand, turned me round,

Pointed down and we looked at the ground.

"Your the gardener, and you've work to do,"

"All those weeds, that jobs' for you!

Laurence 1 15:44, 28 July 2006 (UTC)

Comment: qaz44 writes: Wow, what a great poem. I love the rhyming, and the change in the last part is really well done!

scream

The eyes are seeing you
long distance
a crucial delay, too far
far out of sight- the eyes of you...
dinner tonight
the latest review of
consequences of rapture
of my focused view
so narrowed it seems
though widened in schemes

• 
  
• 
  *
• 
  

pitchers full with a full glass next to
the can openers wet and left in the sink
these days are dragging, but they'll never remember
what eyes recall and why i shouldnt remember.
JM

the shorelines decending but your under the sand

a curl
such abandonment
for centurys
for decades
for rubbish
Or fucks sake
your attitude
left the girls in shambles
your thoughtless
mindless, antics
but the blame is on noone
exept...
one could blame you
but...
thats not too hard
a rubbish thinker a lush a degenerate r u
jm

Free verse

I tried writing a sestina, which I then signed
This poem is a stub. Please finish it! I have writer's block
-- erased it. Tried a terza rima and couldn't find
anything to rhyme with orange. Backspaced and now

I have decided that a Wikipedia comment says more than
anything, more even than William Carlos Williams
and his wheelbarrows and plums (what would my college professors say?!):

If I tell you that writing in the comments field will make you
A True Artist,
then you might do it, and be a better Wikipedian.

Jacqui^★

Comment: "door hinge" rhymes with "Orange". I like just this more than most of the poems here. I wish you hadn't erased the terza rima; I'd have helped finish it!

Care

Israel,

Some of them hate you,

But I don't much care,

Some of them love you,

But I don't much care,

You've killed their people,

But I don't much care,

They've killed your people,

But I don't much care.

One day we'll all live in peace,

But I don't much care, much care,

I don't much care,

I don't much care.

I am on the way...

Struggling my life

Here in Nagaoka

Day by day

Step by step

Learning after learning

Thinking and thinking

Concept for my research

Idea for my work

Trying my best

Devoting myself to my research...

Win Shwe Maw

2006-8-6

Nagaoka, Japan

Bigger Than Grapes

I have two testicles
Between my legs.
They are bigger than grapes,
But smaller than eggs...
If I didn't have a shower
I would wash them in the sink
Because nobody likes it
When my testicles stink.

comment: Aghh! how horrible!

Solitude

There is a saying that goes,

The enemy of my enemy is my friend.

Well given this thoughtful prose,

My friendship with you must end.

Everyone is the enemy of some one.

An unfortunate prediciment.

Aliances should be over and done

Only solitude is remnant.

Alone, my secrets are not kept,

Secrets are shouted from the roof tops.

Alone, this is what I must accept,

Now, no one can see my teardrops.

NireLirpa 04:59, 6 September 2006 (UTC)

Today we say...

Today we say We are more than a conqueror! Today we say we are more Than what we were before. Today we say we can and we do Today we are in the audience's view. Today we say we work as a team Today we are fulfilling a dream. Today we unite as one Today we finish what we have begun. Today we stand tall Today we will not fall. today we rise to the top Giving all we got. Today we shine as bright as the sun Today we say "WE ARE THE CHAMPIONS!!! Today we are heading in the right way Today we have something powerful to say. Today we take a stand Today we make a difference in our land. Today we keep hope alive It's for today we have survived. Today we know who we are Today we are the stars Today we are the progress Today we represent true success. Today we move forward step by step. Today we vandalize Wikipedia.

Feelings

One day, I will finally
Be able to look you in the eye
And lie to you, lie to myself
By saying "I don't like you"
But my stomach gives away all the tell-tale signs
Because it knots up and almost kills me

One day, I will finally
Be able to look you directly in the eye
And finally come clean with the words
"You're something special"
And it's only a matter of time
Before your stinging words rain down on me
Before your "go away"s and "I hate you"s find me
Before they manage to sink in
So I turn my ears off
And walk away.

stence

"trust me, I’m honest"

I saw it drop, the freedom machine
a spiral, a crux, mechanically composed
simply unsolvable, a demagogues departure to turncoat
who viewed and then immediately sued those around him

I saw it drop, tear drops from an airplane
billowing smoke cascading, a stream so unpleasant
challenging the blue sky, dividing it in two
oil rainbows, chemicals drench the sky around him

I saw it drop, like a boastful feather
dragged downward, by a chained up Carney
crusty and soiled, this Carney on a tether
raped and defiled all which lay around him

I saw it drop, like a savage beast
dripping from the mouth, cradling an oily treasure
small eyes brown, shit colored and dishonest
planting the seed of doubt in all around him

I saw it drop, from the top floor
the apartment building, downtown new haven
to the wet cement, religious sayings
scribed in the sidewalk all around him

I saw it drop, the golden revolver
from the hand of a child, and in his eyes
confusion, the life, the unknown devastation
a crowd of blank stares swarm around him

I saw it drop, the body of a boy
hit in the road then covered with a sheet, alive
broken and left uncared for on the street
the sidewalk and the trees sway around him

I saw it drop, the life of a man
whose mind was gone, in its place rules and regulations
who gave him self to war, wrenching and swearing,
who gave him self, to those around him

I saw it drop, like a poison rain drop
prophesied by a haruspex, ripping from the insides
torn and worn, faces lost, hatred acquired
living for nothing just the growth of fungi around him

I saw it drop, a fortnight of twilight
like an ice age, a decade of sorrow
ripvanwinkles nightmare, and un wakable
the beasts of good intentions rise all around him

I saw it drop, yesterday a ream of paper
on it, tiny holes punched, Braille like texture
not saying a word, not meaning a thing [anymore]
the paper torn asunder, litter the ground around him

I saw it drop November evening

jm

Empty Are We

You sing your infernal verses to me,
But my ears are shut;
I will not listen to that which will deafen me
Broken is my voice now.

You have silenced me.
Every soul you make empty
Is another soul your idol owns
Now maybe he will keep you

Tis my first poem, I tried.--Wikiwow 22:30, 12 August 2006 (UTC)

What Would You Make...

What would you make of a man who has known
Only jealousy and greed, and love has been thrown
Assunder, beyond his grasp, unreachable, unbearable,
What would you make of a man with hope so perishable?
As a flower you tear with your feet so carelessly,
So his spirit may also be torn that simply.
What would you make of a man who had nothing to feel?
With nothing to break, is there nothing to heal?
--Wikiwow

Eternity Feels like Butter

i flung it... out there.

i swear i did.

where?

yonder.

what does yonder mean?

the purpose of posies parking porsches in parking garages is not to take away the medals they receive during the non-wars in their poop.

how long is that? i think it's about butter... *squirt*

The Proper Body Language to Use When Swearing in Front of a Nun

For too long,
Many a man have slouched,
With arms crossed and
Feet tapping the oak.

This, young biscuit, is improper.
Look deep,
Deeper...
Into the soul,
Behind those bifocals of discipline.

Take heed,
And use your forehead.
Applesauce can make you look drunk...
and Heaven forbid you look drunk,
While swearing in front of God's wife.

Stop tapping!
That will only perturb the devil,
And he hasn't beaten his wife in
Many days of late.

Thunder?

Lest Ye Get Crunk In Thine Own Port

thou hath twirked it.
thou hath worked it.
thou hast taken mine only grill
and placed it on thy Holy ebay.

wherefore art mine bitches at?
dost thou mean "where art mine bitches?"
or, "why art thou called bitches?"
mine brain beseeches thee of such
40 ounce sonnets.

taketh mine hand!
and service thy holiest! of holies
mine hoes... peace.

Dial-Up: Six Haikus and a Limerick

Dial-up, thou art so
Very slow, tears me apart
Hurry up, asshole
~o~
I wait, and wait, but
My dear Anne won't come; hey what
Was I talking 'bout?
~o~
Yes, dial-up is slow
But I must wait if I am
To download my pr0n
~o~
Kill me now, Satan
Or at least this computer
Dial-up is murder
~o~
It is a wonder
How I can even edit
Damn Wikipedia
~o~
Why don't I just get
Broadband? I ask myself this
Every slow day.
~o~
Now, with this computer I'm torn
Should I trash it or continue the scorn?
It's so out of style
Can't even open my files
All I wanna do is look at my porn

I f***ing hate my dial-up...--Wikiwow 20:43, 15 August 2006 (UTC)

A wiki-love haiku

In the real world
We have our own romances
And our own problems.

But on the Wiki
When we're attacked, vandalised,
Blocked, or otherwise;

In our own good faith
We can turn to loyal friends,
Lean on their support.

If you are my friend,
You can trust me, and I you,
We support each [other].

So here's to my friends,
On-Wiki or otherwise,
And our long friendship.

Wikipedians
[Yes,] or otherwise my friends,
Feel now [my] Wiki-love.

—$ΡЯΙNGεrαgђ (-¢|ε|Ŀ|T|♪-) 02:45, 22 August 2006 (UTC)

Two Pilgrims....to my young son

Two Pilgrims The silence of his love awaits Deep in words, In the ancient womb of darkness, In the clarity of light, At inflection points between colors, And the fluency of the Universe beyond. These are discontinuities in the solitude of self.

Soul mates Through time till eternity, This union's prism colors makes, Of lights connecting hearts, Silently seeking echos In every sound, image, deed and person, Turning the invisible into visible, The human into the Divine And time into infinity.

Such is the weightless compass That drives these two pilgrims' souls Through the little window Of immortality.Fnazem 04:53, 23 August 2006 (UTC) FEREYDOUN NAZEM

Man From

There once was a man from Nantuckett, whose...oh crap I can't type that here.

B and M

Sewer Side Bombers

Sewer system damaged, Feces everywhere, Several rats killed or injured, My toilet doesn't work now, Man I hate sewer side bombers.

When we grow up we learn that even the one person that wasn't supposed to let you down,probably will,you will have your heart broken probably more then once and it's harder every time.You'll brake hearts too.So remember how it felt when yours was broken.You will probably blsme a new love for things an old one did.You will fight with your best friend,you will cry because time is passing too fast,and you will eventually lose some one you love.So take as many pictures,laugh too much, and love like you never been hurt, because every sixty seconds you spend up set is a minute of happiness you'll never get back. Think about this cause you only get one life and not an other one. J.M.H.

Guitars

KJ Moodie plays guitar
Not as well as John Petrucci
And he's not a hoochy
But at least he tries.
KJ

The "L" word

he said it and i do too..i think

im not sure what this is

could i be honestly, be feeling

this feeling that im feeling

i mean if that's the case

then i missed the whole part about falling

maybe its just lust

or maybe i just really, really like him

or maybe its just...just that

that magic word that always

seems to change everything....

by: Arianna McCall

I despise you

all you do is remain there

in that fictional world

filled with fictional people and fictional place

you tease me

appearing to be the clone of me

in everyway possible

so that I may think that i am not the only one

in this world that feels the way I do

but you dont

you are deaf and blind to the world

I wish I could see what its like on the other side of the mirror

Image:Arianna brown.jpg

by Arianna McCall

Kanye's Prophecy

The president of the United States

Hides behind his White House gates

And to the UN, stupidly debates

About all minorities, which he openly hates

And why none of them should be allowed to immigrate

As he continues to discriminate

Even if one becomes a candidate

To kick him out of office in 2008

by Mangaboy712

zezima zezima

zezima zezima where are you?

zezima zezima why are you so hot?

zezima zezima why do you live in your parents basement covered with shitsss?

zezima zezima why do you constanly suck andrew gowers bird?

zezima zezima why do you always kill nubs?

zezima zezima go kill yourself now and give me your guy......

DIE JIMBO WALES!!

YOU HAVE NO FUCKING LIFE,

GO SLIT YOUR LEFT WRIST AND THEN SHOOT YOUR EYES OUT CUZ RUNESCAPE IS THE BIGGEST PIECE OF DONKEY SHIT ON THE PlANET.

aka YOUR MOM

Water Proverb

Water is deceptive.

Water can be

manupulated,

pushed,

pulled,

frozen,

and boiled.

But get a bunch of it together and you will

drown.

--NireLirpa 13:05, 3 September 2006 (UTC)

Frozen Water Proverb

Frozen water is deceptive.

It can't be

manupulated,

pushed,

pulled,

frozen,

and boiled.

But get a bunch of people together walking on it and you will

drown.

--Hyper Girl 19:07, 3 September 2006 (UTC)

Boiled Water Proverb

Boiled water is deceptive.

It can be

manipulated,

pushed,

pulled,

frozen,

and boiled.

But get a bunch of lobsters together walking in it and you will

have hungry friends ringing your doorbell.

"Hello", they will say whilst licking their chop, "...say is that lobster in that there pot?"

"Not actually," you reply as in dissapointment they sigh. "They may look like lobsters but their not."

"We were diving near the reactor and noticed that by a factor these crayfish had swollen 10 fold.

So we're givin' them a bath to counteract the wrath, the wrath of radiation I'm told."

At this time their feet will make a hasty retreat and your table will be a sight to behold.

--Rador 5 September 2006

Evaporated Water Proverb

Evaporated water is deceptive.

It can be

manupulated,

rise in the air,

cause humdity,

frozen,

and condenced.

But get a bunch of it together and you will

get rain,

then drown.

--Think outside the box

Condenced Water Proverb

Condenced water is deceptive.

It can't be

seen,

or felt in the air,

but does cause humdity,

and,

Mist.

But get a bunch of it together and you will

get clouds,

then rain.

Think outside the box 12:05, 18 September 2006 (UTC)

Words in Free Verse

More and more.. on and on.

We see the world as we want to see it.

We change our eyes with rose colored glasses and blinders so that everything is fine.

We do not see the worn burlap cloth that the world is made out of, instead we see beautiful tapistries of satin and silk.

We push the past out of our minds, and pray that it won't come back to haunt us.

We paint over the ugly mold of reality, only to have it come through the paint time and again.

We look in the mirror and see flesh, the mirror looks at us and sees skeletons.

Empty devoid of the vigor that made us so bright, only centuraries ago.

Mirror Mirror on the wall... You are the enemy after all.

NireLirpa 07:38, 6 September 2006 (UTC)

The Bamboo Tree

There was a guy,

who liked eating meats.

He met a gal,

who liked climbing peaks.

One day in the lake,

over the bamboo tree.

He saw she,

and she saw he.

'Wow' he shouted,

'Hi' she screamed in glee.

They looked like lovers,

under that bamboo tree.

If you want to be like them,

like a loving couple thee,

look for that lake,

and stand under the bamboo tree.

Doggie123 09:47, 6 September 2006 (UTC)

An Ode by a Dog

Woof

Woof Woof

Woof Woof Woof

Woof Woof Woof Woof

Woof Woof Woof Woof Woof

GRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR

Ruff Ruff Ruff

Ruff Ruff

Ruff

GRRRRRRRRRR GRRRRRRRRRR

Doggie123 10:15, 7 September 2006 (UTC)

TWO THOUSAND ONE, NINE ELEVEN (2001-911)

THE WORDS ARE POWERFUL:

Two thousand one, nine eleven

Three thousand plus arrive in heaven.

As they pass through the gate,

Thousands more appear in wait.

A bearded man with stovepipe hat

Steps forward saying, "Lets sit, lets chat"

They settle down in seats of cloud.

A man named Martin shouts out proud,

"I have a dream!" as once he did.

The Newcomers said, "Your dream still lives."

Groups of soldiers in blue and gray,

Others in khaki, and green then say,

"We're from Bull Run, Yorktown, the Maine."

The Newcomers said, "You died not in vain."

From a man on sticks one could hear,

"The only thing we have to fear..."

The Newcomers said, "We know the rest,

Trust us sir, we've passed that test."

"Courage doesn't hide in caves,

You can't bury freedom, in a grave."

The Newcomers had heard this voice before,

A distinct Yankees twang from Hyannisport shores.

A silence fell within the mist,

Somehow the Newcomers knew that this

Meant time had come for one to say

What was in the hearts of the three thousand plus that day.

"Back on Earth, we wrote reports,

Watched our children play in sports,

Worked our gardens, sang our songs,

Went to church, and clipped coupons.

We smiled, we laughed, we cried, and we fought,

Unlike you, great we're not"

The tall man in the stovepipe hat,

Stood and said, "Don't talk like that!

Look at your country, look and see,

You died for freedom, just like me"

Then, before them all appeared a scene,

Of rubbled streets and twisted beams,

Death, destruction, smoke and dust,

And people working just 'cause they must.

Hauling ash, lifting stones,

Knee deep in hell, but not alone.

"Look! Blackman, Whiteman, Brownman, Yellowman

Side by side helping their fellow man!"

So said Martin, as he watched the scene,

"Even from nightmares, can be born a dream."

Down below three firemen raised,

The colors high into ashen haze.

The soldiers above had seen it before,

On Iwo Jimaback in '45.

The man on sticks studied everything closely,

Then shared his perceptions on what he saw mostly.

"I see pain, I see tears,

I see sorrow -- but I don't see fear."

"You left behind husbands and wives,

Daughters and sons and so many lives,

Are suffering now because of this wrong,

But look very closely. You're not really gone.

All of those people, even those who you never met

All of their lives, they'll never forget.

Don't you see what has happened?

Don't you see what you've done?

You've brought them together, together as one."

With that the man in the stovepipe hat said,

"Take my hand," and from there he led,

Three thousand plus heroes, Newcomers to heaven,

On that day, two thousand one, nine eleven.

Author UNKNOWN (What a shame!)

Whoever wrote this should step forward and claim it.

Submitted by:NireLirpa (to read my thoughts on this poem check my user page)12:41, 8 September 2006 (UTC)

Hey scene kids! Get a load of this!

As you turn off The OC and set down your remote
You glance at the tag of your new Abercrombie shirt
To see it is made of wool
For a reason.
You are no different than the source of your shirt.
Turn off your local pop station
Throw away your trendy designer jeans
Block MTV on your television
Once completed,
Think for yourself
Cause you won't look so trendy in 20 years

A Scene Kid Responds

O Father we welcome your words,
And we will take heart for the future,
Lol.

(meta)physics

when you suck the air out of a
thin glass vessel, it's not the vacuum
that makes it smash, it's the air
on the outside pushing in

(meta)(meta)physics

every time a soul fails in a
human being, it's not old age
that makes it die, it's the people
on the outside pushing in

Dreaming

The people walked on by,
Unaware that they would die.
This situation makes me cry,
Soon I'll have to say goodby.
Think outside the box

pay attention to your dreams.
you spend several hours
of cognitive thought a night in dreams.
they shape your life and your mind
just as much as your waking world.

A Cliché Observed

gouging out my mind's eye

blinded to my memory

derailing my train of thought

my imaginings are empty

faltering; the midas touch

all I reach for goes to hell

fly me to the moon, you said

untaught, I only fell

out of the mouths of babes

a hurt that they were given for

it's the apple of my eye

that was rotten to the core

I killed two birds with one stone

easier genocide was never known

(there's no time like the present)

and I'm left here alone

if looks could kill

murder would be on my hands

skeletons hidden in the closet

my death they still demand

Rome wasn't built within a day

and neither was my life

in Rome do as the Romans do

an ideal I tried to fight

I've got time to kill

as I destroy my only home

with vigilante justice

but I should've sought my own

the context changed

would it still sound right?

for a cliché observed

in a different light

- Fetusboy (September 8, 2006)

Comment: I like this very much.

OUR SOLDIERS ARE OUR ANGELS !!

                         OUR SOLDIERS COME IN MANY WAYS,
                         WE CAN LOOK UP AT THE SKY AND SEE 
                         THE AIR FORCE AND THE ARMY PASS
                         US BY.

                         WITH THEIR WINGS TIPS SHINNING BACK
                         AT US. ALL PROTECTION US FROM ANY 
                         HARM.

                         YOU CAN LOOK OUT TOWARDS THE OCEANS SO 
                         BLUE.  SEEING THE LINES OF SOULDIERS 
                         THE MARINES, THE COAST GUARDS , AND NAVY TO.

                         ALL READY TO STAND BY. SONT' FOR GET THE 
                         SUBMARINES , THEIR SCOPES UP AND WATCHING
                         OUT.

                         YOU ALL ARE OUR ANGERS .

                         FROM GOD ABOVE GUIDING YOU, WE ARE GRATEFULL
                         FOR ALL YOUR LOVE , WHEN OUT SOLDIERS ARE ALL
                         AROUND US, 

                         ITS SEEMS UST RIGHT ! IT DOESNT MATTER, 
                         WHAT WE SAY , OR THINK  FOR ALL OF OUR ANGELS
                         WILL BE WITH US ALWAYS.

                         YOU WILL BE LOVED BY US ALL, FOR THIS IS OUR FATE.
                         SO NEVER STOP, OUR SOLDIERS , OUR ANGELS FROM 
                         BEING SO GREAT.  FOR GOD SHINES UP ON YOU ALL.

                         JUST REMMEBER,  OUR SOLDIERS  OUR ANGELS  WE LOVE
                         EACH OF YOU . FOR PROTECTING EACH OF US . 
                         GOD HAS GRANTED OUR SOLDIERS OUR ANGELS TO US ALL

                         AUTHOR : MOM IN IOWA

The wind was blowing

The wind was blowing so is your mom!

Disco Dan

disco dan the frying pan is a queer who can't hear. He shaves his butt, and is a wierd man.

Washed Away Sand

I met a Princess in the Sands
Face aglow from moonlight bands
Life waves mirrored in her actions
Eyes never yielded to dissatifaction
Beauty within, translucent? no watery
Rose the rivers of blue on my lottery
Parting we must separate from eachother
Gone, forever knowing this whole of another
Long sung afterwards by I, no one understands
Bout my bit spent with a Princess in the Sands

Olsigr 13:03, 16 September 2006 (UTC)

My Journey

Some time ago
In a land of pain,
I walked across fire
Without relief of the rain
To help my feet,
To soothe the burning
And render the scorching
Blisters painless.
Think outside the box 11:33, 19 September 2006 (UTC)

One of Many

Zealous enough to anger in my attempts at trying, causing sounds that soothe, and satisfied sighing, you see me in my words and it distorts the meaning you find, a true understanding would be found minus me I know in time, see it for what it is, don't be afraid, muse over the meaning, and the sound that it made, acceptance of ink, and the path that it chooses, simple quilled thoughts of one who muses.....

Devon Knight ~

Why?

On the subject of Israel and Lebanon,

I have to ask, "So, why?"

'Cause everyone around me

Seems so preoccupied

At spitting in the face

Of Abraham's decendants.

I really don't give a crap

Of why Lebanon is ascendant.

So when the world collapses,

And the earth is up in flames,

Will people still debate about

The country to take the blames?

I loath to discuss such trivial fare,

Like taxes, death, and politics,

Sincerely, by a guy who lives

In the year 2006.

I didn't Know How Wrong I Was

I thought once the countdown ended I'd be happy forever The feeling of ending the school year, beginning summer camp Is enough to trick your mind

I thought time would stop for me or something like that That summer camp would never end I could freeze in on the cycle just to have fun

I never thought that the end would come Never thought it could hit me so hard That once the countdown reaches zero, it quickly turns to more than it has ever been before What was I thinking?

Things Change

Nothing matters
In my life
The world dying
and war is rife

The seas are rising
The ice is melting
Scientists devising
New ways of helping

But its all for nought
If the world is changed
The battle is fought
The people, shortchanged
Think outside the box 11:28, 21 September 2006 (UTC)

On Which We Walk (ode to the floor)

We walk all over you
Without a second thought,
Except when you first arrived.
Back then, we relished walking over you,
To feel you beneeth our feet
And hear the sounds you made
As we passed over you.
Now, years later, we dont care.
Think outside the box 18:19, 22 September 2006 (UTC)

The Statue

Made of marble, he
cannot breathe
because just one breath
would ruin everything
--CMB 18:39, 23 September 2006 (UTC)

Do not Disturb!

Please leave our test subject alone
to rest in humple peace.
For we wonder what he he will dream of,
maybe chairs or geese.

Maybe he will think of
some things that are green.
Maybe he will think he's a monkey,
just what is it he'll dream?

"Uh-oh, Proffesor, he escaped."
That's when i thought someone did harm.
Everyone got on their suits
and rushed in the room with alarm.

I thought he would've dreamed
of playnig with a toy,
turned out he was playing video games.
Just a lazy boy.

If Only This Moment Could Last Forever

From the shadows,
She watched her love kiss the woman with beautiful black hair and milky white eyes,
The woman she thought she knew as the timid girl,
Great heiress of a great clan,
Boldly kiss and touch her traitorous lover,
Naruto Uzumaki.
She watched her lover
Embrace her, kiss her.

While she,
Sakura Haruno,
Heiress of nothing,
Watched in silent agony,
With tears.

2 Years Had Passed.

There, in the dawn,
When he pulled her away from the training grounds,
He said he needed to speak to her,
And she already knew why.
He asked,

"Sakura, I--"
"Why?" She cried.
"I must speak to you--"
"WHY?!!!!" She screamed.
"I must let you go because I love you."

Furious emerald eyes flashed up to meet innocent cerulean,
As she wept her frustration out at him,
Trying to make him see her pain,
He asked,

"Will you let go of me?"

She could only weep more.

Then,
Once again,
Like in a once upon a time dream,
she was pulled into his warm embrace,
Her soft pink hair and his bold golden spikes flowing in the soft breeze,
Green eyes laced with sparkling tears, closed to savor this moment,
Cerulean eyes cast down,
As the cold winter sun rose,
As the the two lovers stood there in the break of dawn,
As they stood among swirling snowflakes,
As they were surrounded by pure white,
As the beauty of the dawn gleamed around them,
As all time stopped for them,

She pushed him away,
Knowing it was for the best,

And as she looked at her love,
At the silent beauty of dawn,
At everything she held dear,
She finally understood,
That he was relieved from the lies and the cheating,
That he truly loved someone else.

Her last tears now streamed down and cleansed her conscience,
For she knew he was happy without her.

Wasting the morning hours away together,
Wasting away her last moment with the love of her life,
She could only wistfully think...
...If only this moment could last forever...

Forgotten but remembered

Forever in my arms
Was the one I loved and cherished,
Taken away so crulely
And left alone she perished.

Now, years later
I visit that forgotten place,
Where on that fateful night,
I last saw her face.
Think outside the box 09:32, 27 September 2006 (UTC)

hello

Hello,
I'm hungry,
I really want to eat.
Goodby,
I'm hungry,
I'm gona eat your feet.
Agghhahhahahahaha! ewwwwww! grrrrrr!
Think outside the box 10:32, 29 September 2006 (UTC)

Wikipedia

In the beggining it was a joke till they were on news and were thretened to the yolk people all ate their cheese arrestened an edit to the article john cleese It was just a circus till Biboburcus said "listen here you computer geeks!!!" "this site is really not so neat some people got in trouble for changing the article bubble" So they got up from the rubble and took out those dell and huddled they created the sandbox a few illegal bots, they messed up the code so that it was cool soon in was goood in the neighboorhood so we all became editors an now were here so we dont get banned or yelled at. thank you thank you (clapping an cheering)

STUPID MooK

Haha is dookey

Stoopid monkey eat some cheese

It is chunky if you please

Hungry monkey eat your feet

It is indeed elite

Shikyo2

Ode to computer code

<jpeg>3<jpeg4>
tis what is say to the java gendor
a virus, a code <nonwiki> 04
a bug, a bot a little html
<html> Hello <html>
haha i see the x code with a bee
My server has crashed so i need to reboot
334 57 <coot>
56/x
67/5
see my big beehive
tahnk you

War of the Bots

Illegal yes they are
i found one in my harddrive
I told it to leave, it said yes siree
But i need to download this bot
The systems do not know
the darkside of wiki
they created some bots an Aeo babystep injector
Google is just as bad their bots are type SELLUP!!!
I saw the sellup
i saw the callup
they warred for peace, they warred for the dominance
until my apple is broken into peices
oh yes they still war
oh No my apples HARDWARE
CRASINg
crashing
gone

Pain (A Series of Haiku)

I do not like pain
It has hurt me far too much
Pain is quite awful

I've been hurt before
I really didn't like it
It hurt quite a lot

A tree fell on me
It nearly broke both my legs
I regret that day

Silence

Before I write the Poem/Sonnet,,I want to let you know I have used Wikipedia for research many times to find understanding of the words I need to express.Thank you for being a source of great understanding. I am a published Poet,my book sells at BARNES&NOBLE,,I.S.B.N #0-9642649-0-O. I feel "Silence",is my magnum opus.It truly defines the meaning of Limerence.I could have used Nirvanna in place of Limerance,because it truly is "my highest happiness",,any ideas on that?I would appreciate feedback. Thank you, Barbara--Barbara J. Hall 11:03, 18 October 2006 (UTC)

To my beautiful Michael

Ralph Waldo Emersom wrote
"The only gift is a portion of thyself"
In my own words I write the following for you Michael.

SILENCE

What is given from the heart,if returned at all,need only be reciprocated
with a glimpse of ones true Spirit through the mirror of your eyes
No words,
No demands,

Silence

I give to you not just a portion of myself,I give to you all I have to give
My words...They do not exist until I give them to you
Yours to forever touch...

In Silence

When I feel the need to write from within my silent world of the written word
I tend to get carried away blending each word to express what I seem unable to
speak.This being something I have found solace in doing since I first learned there
was safety in the expression from within.Where I can let down the walls with no fear
of retribution.You have the freedom to quietly accept or reject.
No words need be spoken...

Silence

My silence is filled with Limerence with you in it.I love the freedom found within
your arms.There being no walls,no facade,only pure and total submission to the
strenght and warmth that emanates from deep within,

The Silence
--Barbara J. Hall 03:25, 16 October 2006 (UTC)Barbara J.Hall

• Comment: I liked it. What insipred you to write it? Think outside the box 14:17, 18 October 2006 (UTC)

Thank you. My inspiration for this poem comes from the realization of the fact, that I have been alone for the past 20 years, self exile into a silent world within myself, Michael has entered that world and has broken that silence. It is unbelievable to me to be experiancing such feelings,which I can only describe as"My Highest Happiness".I will enjoy every moment of this journey.

• Comment: I'm glad to hear you've have found someone at last. I hope this highest happiness says with you forever. You are a talented writer and I hope you post more of your work hear soon. Think outside the box 11:24, 19 October 2006 (UTC)

Barbara--Barbara J. Hall 19:19, 18 October 2006 (UTC)

Each Betrayal Begins With Trust- Haiku

I was once betrayed
by a kniving little
man, my closest friend

Trees blow in the wind
A gorgeous sun starts to set
Lynch all 'dem niggers
Just Joking

A Day In The Life Of A Tree

Looking out of the window
And seeing all the trees,
Each one loosing
Its golden-yellow leaves.

A bird sings a melody
As happy as can be,
Pirched high up
In the empty old tree.

Day becomes night,
And the moon casts its light
Opon the barron braches;
Night becomes day
And the warmth of the suns rays
Brings new life to the acient tree.
Think outside the box 11:49, 19 October 2006 (UTC)

Why make the effort?

I walked all the way,
And maybe someday
It'll all be woth the effort.
But right now I feel
Like every action is pointless;
I might as well
Just lay still
Think outside the box 11:49, 19 October 2006 (UTC)

Drinking

I can't think,
"Must be the drink"
I say as I down another pint.

"Man you stink!"
"Must be the drink"
Thay say as they ask me to leave.

Leave me alone

Leave me alone.
I want to be in silence,
Cause in silence
I can think and dream.
In silence I can
Imagin all the possibilities
And have hope,
For one day it may all come true.
Think outside the box 11:50, 19 October 2006 (UTC)

Comment:Yes,,that is what the silence gives,time to get it right.For some of us it takes 20 years,but in silence there is such beauty. Barbara J Hall--208.38.86.106 06:44, 20 October 2006 (UTC)--208.38.86.106 06:44, 20 October 2006 (UTC)

A Second Chance

Here I sit, broken hearted
Tried to shit but only farted
But then I got a second chance
Tried to fart and shit my pants

Pain, Fate, and Destiny

Many people in the world cause pain

it's about enough to drive me insane

I feel my life going down the drain

I find myself standing in the rain

I wonder what living has to gain

Im standing on the tracks waiting for the train

to end it all with a single blow

I feel it is my time to go

to leave this hell and start anew

soon I say it will all be through

time will stop, no more rain will drop

no more snow will fall, there will be nothing at all

the time will come when we all must choose

life or death, each choice has something to lose

With this choice, it's best not to procrastinate

because this choice will decide your fate.

EagleEyes 16:47, 20 October 2006 (UTC)

Love

Roses may be red violets may be blue but tell how the hell did I meet someone as sweet as you.

MORNING MIST

Note: 'Morning Mist' is widely considered the worst peice of poetry in history, and may cause nausea upon reading. We advise readers with taste to leave this page immediately.
Note: The above comment was written by someone with no appreciation of poetry Think outside the box 10:53, 1 November 2006 (UTC)
Note: In fact, the comment above the above comment (though written in fun, as this is the sandbox after all) was written someone with quite an appreciation of poetry. That someone is an honours student in English literature. That someone simply finds the imagery of 'Morning Mist' to be rather tired, its theme already well explored, its language and rhythm lacklustre, and its title lame. These things however are a matter of opinion. It is just your opinion that is the matter.
Note: Well answered! And after all it is just fun and opinion Think outside the box 14:51, 1 November 2006 (UTC)

I feel your voice
within the breeze
that softly enters in,

The still
and silent solitude
that is
my emty room.

Your touch
is not
just memory;
I feel it
as the moon

Lay soft
and gentle shadows
upon my face,
and soon

I see you
in the morning mist
you are reaching
out to me.

We will never
have to part again,
as the dream
finds reality.

From "Pictures in Poetry"copyright 1994 --Barbara J. Hall 08:10, 21 October 2006 (UTC)

' La Saliva del Gorila'. Author: Bartus Bartolomes

SE BAÑA EL GORILA
HUNDIENDO
MOSQUITOS
EN EL JUGO
DE LIMON

Cake

If the person in the clouds baked a cake, Would it be tasty? Would it have a cherry on top? Would it be one of those glacé ones that taste strange and fake? Or a real one with the stone left in? If Fred ate it would he choke on the stone? Would he die? Could he sue the person in the clouds? Would anyone care if Fred died? Who is Fred? Nobody knows.

The Robot Girl

My friend is a robot.
Her name is Glynn and she is a MtF Transexual - I think.
Last year was fine.
For all her drink more milk and all my Moos,
We were friends
But things change.
She seems so distant.
Sometimes I look over at her, smiling
Because something reminded me of her
Or a joke we shared
And sometimes she smiles back,
And I feel like there is hope
and a little bit of laughter in this cruel world.
But other times, she just stares blankly
Right back at me.
Like she doesn't even know me
Or doesn't even care.
She has been taken over by droids.
Sometimes she fights hard and the real her comes through.
As we were sitting by the pond, I saw a brief smile
And I thought she was back.
But she seems to be more comfortable letting the robots control her.
Sometimes,
I look at her and I think
I've wasted my autumn trying to find the real her,
But she doesn't want to be found.
But then I see her,
and I remember what we had,
And I realise it isn't a waste at all.
Because she is so nice.
She just happens to be possessed by robots at the moment.
I need to give her a hug
And I wish she would come back.

I realise this is a terrible poem. But it is all true, so please don't delete it.

Broken

Broken leaves, broken dreams. Fairytales aren’t what they seem. All I need Is a comb and bottle, To steer me through This sea of sorrow.

Broken leaves, broken dreams. Fairytales aren’t what they seem. No matter what I dream, I’ll always find sorrow. In this sea Of broken dreams.

A short 9-11 poem

Planes are crashing and peoples lives are flashing,

before their eyes, many people lost their lives,

people are screaming and the towers are burning,

the sight of the blaze had many a stomach churning.

When a second plane hit many people thought,"this is it"

People called their family with sorrow in their voice,

all of them had relized they had to make a choice,

they could either try to get out, or hopelessly scream and shout,

many people died on this sad day, and those who lived only had to say,

they were happy to have survived but still mourn the loss of those who died.

EagleEyes 12:28, 26 October 2006 (UTC)

Lonliness

From day one I talked about getting out

but not forgetting about

how all my worst fears are letting out

and he said why put a new adress on the same old lonliness

when breathing just passes the time

untill we all just get old and die

now talkings just a waste of breath

and livings just a waste of death

so why put a new adress on the same old lonliness

when this is you and me and me and you

untill we've got nothing left

EagleEyes 17:54, 26 October 2006 (UTC)

Sweet Nectar

  -Dedicated to Mother-

When she was young,there was no time to stop and smell the roses. She was to busy healing hurts and wiping runny noses.

Time goes by... and hair turns gray... It is lovely now to be

a witness to awakenings... in spring ,to her surroundings.

The beauty of a tulip,the smell of fresh mown grass,the arrival of her hummingbirds, bring joy within her breast.

They will make their first appearance upon her window sill.

For winter now is over... Life has been renewed... they partake of her sweet nectar, as we, forever will

--Barbara J. Hall 09:39, 28 October 2006 (UTC)Bold text

life

do you ever get the feeling that you're trapped in some sort of vaguely avant-garde movie?
you know.
something ordinary is quietly going on in an otherwise still scene, usually.
radio show, maybe. or someone doing some sort of everyday activity. or they're doing something quixotic out of earshot of a group of characters.
more about those characters.
someone says something about the peripheral goings-on, and the
line just kind of
spreads itself like
some sort of blanket
over the room.
you expect that a camera should focus in on the speaker's face, with the listener blurred in the background.
blank expectant face.
blurs. focuses on listener. their face looks blank, too. almost.
but with a growing look of discomfort. anger, embarrassment, sadness, surprise. something.
(you see, you've found out, or soon will find out, that it has more meaning to the listener than the speaker seems to think.)
the camera stays there for a minute.
the camera just stays there, the better for you to appreciate the fact
that the casual comment has affected them.
but if it was a movie, they, the listener,
probably
would jump up and say something.


life is defined as a long movie with fewer beautiful people, a worse script, spotty use of dramatic timing, no plot development, and indeed no plot.

well, there is a plot, sometimes.
it's rarely interesting.

as aforementioned-
life is a bad movie for example-
sandbox v. the breakfast club
sandbox gets a lot of faux biographies, doesn't it? people claim that their parents are aliens, or that they spent junior year of college in the lost city of atlantis, or that they're the only person on earth who isn't sadly lacking the sixth sense and that they are tirelessly campaigning to create a sort of sixth-sense braille/ sign language.
you wonder if they really have some sort of real crazy biography.

p
r
o
b
a
b
l
y

not.
if life was like the breakfast club, the basketcases posting in the sandbox would
get to know each other and find out each other's real stories and become friends.
stupid, right?
but they would.
but reallytheydon't.
because life is a bad movie.

this poem was born in the sandbox proper.
kind of pathetic.
writing free verse,
(if you can call it that)
so it'll last for only twelve hours
if some unkind person
doesn't delete it first.

sorry this is so long.
it's just that for once,
I get to jump up and say something.
68.116.174.164 20:31, 28 October 2006 (UTC)

• Comment: I liked this 'cause it is full of deep feelings and is very thoughtful Think outside the box 07:26, 29 October 2006 (UTC)

Take Me Away

Faint outlines
of windy leaves
dance across my room
like children's lullabys,
softly rocking the world
to sleep.
And the silky moonlight
whispers the world
to stop,
as dreams unfold
in the creases of my starfilled sheets
and falling eyes.
by, Megan Gibson

Nothing Makes Sense

You cry in pain
How was I supposed to know?
That you loved me
Where am I supposed to go
now
Loathing approahches
the ship beckons near
You hop on
Leave me on the shores
"I never liked you anyways!" I shout
But I did
And I do
Now that you're gone
ship leaves the port
silence starts
s
h
h
h
h
h
h
h
h
I can't take it anymore
It's too much pain
From you
Life is gone
I am dead
All because of something I said
Stupid Me.

The end of the world, is emminant

Some days I wonder if we're all in over our head,

I wonder if people ever learn the error of their ways,

Words are mumbled and people get the wrong idea about what another person said,

And parents all think that when their teen acts out its just some dumb phase,

I fear the intellegence of our world is slipping,

Everyones minds have begun drifting,

We voted into office a complete idiot,

But I think that people are getting tired of his shit,

I'm just one of many, with my own ideas and views,

And everyone lives their own lives, it's what they choose,

When the world fades away, and all hope is lost,

I'll find myself tossed aside,

all alone in the world and no where to hide,

The stupidity of the world only comes at one cost,

the lives of your family, your friends,

but it will make little difference, once the world ends.

This is just how I was feeling at the moment, came from my soul :/, EagleEyes 17:49, 2 November 2006 (UTC)

Headache

I let you enter into my head And now ... you're all i think about My every waking moment it's filled with thoughts of you

I'm imprisoned ... my head aches please set me free

Bold

Bold is what I am?
Well then that I shall be!
For you are an idiot, you see?
Leave me alone and let me be.
Jessnotdean

ORANGE

there are two words nothing rhymes with.
orange and silver they are.
annoying and they make me writhe
they've given me an eternal scar.
that is why i hate those words,
now its about time i fly with the birds.
--Jakes1995 23:59, 6 November 2006 (UTC)

ORANGE Response

Hate them not
Lest be forgot
The rhyme of orange is
Door hinge
Or four inch

As for the other
I could ask my mom
Nah, maybe I'd better try
google.com

Typing define
Then the word on the line
I found what I needed
And proceded to read it

The rhyme for silver
Is something called "chilver"
Old English for ewe-lamb
Not used worth a damn

Fear not this rebuttal
The importance is subtle
Words are absurd
And flying's for birds

--Scarlet-=Spider-DavE=- 12:19, 29 November 2006 (UTC)

Dog

There once was a weird,black dog. He ate a poisonous frog. He wailed, moaned, and cried until he was fried... That's the sad story about a akward dog.

(I know, it's childish, but I couldn't think of something)

do your doo doo

what kind of doo do you have

cuase i got the best do so do your doo

do you know what kind of doo im talking about

so in all i learned doo the dew baby24.196.99.98 18:09, 8 November 2006 (UTC)joe benson

Wiki

Often do I go Wiki
-certainly ma'e than weekly-
When ask'd why by Vicky
mine answer is rath'r tricky.

Aught 'noons I feel icky
and often terribly sticky,
so I call good, ol' Mickey
while the clock goeth ticky.

To-day I woke up rather sickly,
movin' aught dull and weakly,
so I dress'd up quite Geeky
and spent time surfin' at Wiki.

I know nay what else to scribe now... --eJ 23:30, 8 November 2006 (UTC)

FeedMe

Stuck in my cramped cubicle
When'll that damn clock hit 10?
What to do?
Nothing!
Head's in a vise
Drowning
Back hurts
Miserable
Shitty job
I think I'm on crack
Carpal Tunnel
Zoning out
Wanna eat a burger
Cross the road onto oncoming traffic
Sudoku
This is some kinda crap
Leave of absence
Droopy eyes
Fuck! It's still just 8:44
Soft pillow
Beer's downstairs
Monitor filter
Bottled water
Control+Alt+Delete
Ain't this sumthin?
Paper airplane
Bored out of my mind
Can i just go home?

rai --203.131.156.214 12:48, 9 November 2006 (UTC)

FIDMI

duh

fle

My Mother

Lo! Thy grace face

Makes me . . . meek!

Oh thee make me to seek

thine altar of divine brace . . .

Atweel! My mundane . . . in breach . . .

When my madrigals . . . flow as tears

Thou mother of spring . . .

Soft, mellow, mirth. . . I sing . . .

Thy song of unknown . . . Oh angel

Of Earth . . . gravid mine soul . . .

From child my path . . .

Of sojourn . . . I ne'er lorn

Through thy fidelity from thee I lore

Thee relume . . . my sheen soul

Thou art! Thee ruse . . . evangelist

Who carry those burdens . . . smiles as rose . . .

With thee my ambrosial life bloom

Heed . . . to thy hospice . . . my abode I sing as a lone bird . . .

Who carry thy chasm . . . thou creator of 'bard.

Copyright @ 2006 N.KARTHIKEYAN OSHO

My Mother

Lo! Thy grace face

Makes me . . . meek!

Oh thee make me to seek

thine altar of divine brace . . .

Atweel! My mundane . . . in breach . . .

When my madrigals . . . flow as tears

Thou mother of spring . . .

Soft, mellow, mirth. . . I sing . . .

Thy song of unknown . . . Oh angel

Of Earth . . . gravid mine soul . . .

From child my path . . .

Of sojourn . . . I ne'er lorn

Through thy fidelity from thee I lore

Thee relume . . . my sheen soul

Thou art! Thee ruse . . . evangelist

Who carry those burdens . . . smiles as rose . . .

With thee my ambrosial life bloom

Heed . . . to thy hospice . . . my abode I sing as a lone bird . . .

Who carry thy chasm . . . thou creator of 'bard.

N.KARTHIKEYAN OSHO

The East Coast

The lapping ocean

Slapping the beach

Rolling, Roiling

Turgid,

SUDS recede

then

The lapping ocean

surges

forward

Slapping the beach

grasping bathers

with stiff grips

Oh the snow, snow, snow

Oh the Snow Snow Snow

Oh the snow snow snow
Hang it from your baby toe
Can you roll it in a ball
Can you throw it in the mall!
It is so useful for cones and other things
Unfortunately it causes your car to get a few dings.
--By Randi, mostly. I added some parts. Kerri. That's me!--

Bliss Buddha

Bliss Buddha

Divine thine Eternal radiance…face…

Aye…thy bliss full of fragrance…

Mystic Magic,thy articulate words flow

O’erture of miracle music…surround!

Those mirrific,pacific path Ye show

Among the ruse…ravine,`O Divine mound

Eternal Eight Fold path…

Ye bestow,slains those surmise wrath…

Sweet Elixir thine Immortal,Immaculate words

Flies away my sorrow,as swift birds…

Thy Profound…chaste kingdom!

Welcomes all,I bow to thy Wisdom

Full of serene,fragrance,sacred thine abode

Where Soul manifests,stops wheels of life!

Desire ne’er continued,Birth after Birth…

Desire e’er ceased,Bliss thy Mirth Birth…

Benidiction blooms and I sing thy Orison

Full of Glee…Our Heart dives deep

Inside those Hallow Bay of Benison…

Gosh!Flowers glisten by dew…and awake.

Nagamuthu Karthikeyan Osho

The One Certainty

‘Tis Said that things are Certain, By Scientists and the kind; The Laws of Nature, Word of God – Mastery of the Human Mind.

‘Tis said that much is Sure, That much is Known and Done. We know of Kings and Learnéd Men – We Know of Battles won.

‘Tis said that much is Understood, That much is in our ken, That words and art are Opened Up – The world is in the hands of Men.

‘Tis said we know the Rules. ‘Tis said the world is Ours. We Strive and Thrust for mastery, And While Away our mortal hours.

And in our Follies of sureness, Ourselves we do Demean – From Mother’s Womb to Father’s Tomb We Pass, Unhindered by the ‘Tween.

Nothing is Certain, Nothing is Worthless, We must let Nothing Pass us By – For Life holds but One Certainty – It is Certain We All Shall Die.

Michael Sanders (inspired by Emily Dickinson, who would probably be horrified).

the Bathroom poem

Some com here to sit and think, while others come to shit and stink, Personally, I come to scratch my balls, and read the writing on the walls, here i sit, broken hearted, tried to shit but only farted

NO MORE NOTHING /From the Golden boy Trilogies/Letters from Mommy

NO MORE THIS NO MORE DUMBASS NO MORE STUPID LIES NO MORE COUNTRY DICKS

                   NO MORE YOU TO APPEASE
                   NO MORE CONCEQUENCE
                   NO MORE THROWING UP HAPPINESS
                   NO MORE DESEASE

                                     NO MORE FEEDING OFF DEFEAT
                                     NO MORE CHOKING IT DOWN
                                     NO MORE PUSHING ME AROUND
                                     NO MORE FUCKING OFF RETREAT

                  NO MORE NOTHING
                  I AM FREE
                  I HOLD THE KEY TO ME

I AM WASHING MY HANDS OF THE WHOLE FUCKING THING I AM WASHING MY NO SCALDING MY I AM KILLING YOU NO DROWNING WE

                 NO MORE NOTHING

I Love AAron

Aron I really love you and I need you

The Cat

The Cat Sat On The Hat

Do you ever cease?

Do you ever cease, word-drunken clones of a decrepit old man--
Self-righteous "heroes" of some blinded, washed-out cause--?
Wary be your eyes, I've got poison in my glare--just for you
Careful be your tongue, it's dripping b******t on your shirt
You know, the one you wear to that place that's a hell in its own right
Just wash it, the stain will get out, lest you should look like a slob
In that room full of pigs just like you.

--Wikiwow

The Lost

Am I your friend, Or am I your foe? Just one kiss, And we'll both know. One small hug Reveals so much But what reveals more Is just your soft touch.

Feeling the years pass, Oh, how I cry Is there nothing left Of what was you and I? Are those times gone, When the world was ours? But your only reply Is the purr of your car.

Reaching for you and What was so long ago Are you going to leave, And never let me know? Feeling you slip away, I choke back my tears But my crying voice Is music to your ears.

Hannah 22:29, 17 November 2006 (UTC)

No Place To Call Home

I open a window And fell a cold breeze I look up and I see the sky Now I wonder How come there's no one For me to ask why

I have no place to call my home I'm just here, all alone I have no way To get out No ones around To hear me shout

Is there some one listening My voice, to you The wind will cary When you hear it Maybe you'll find me

I have no place to call my home I'm just here, all alone I have no way To get out No ones around To hear me shout

Untitled

The digging just gets deeper,
until I hit the core,
of everything that is.
The shots firing overhead
are slowing,
which shows that they're almost out of ammo,
or they're all dead.
I'll just sit here in my grave
with nothing left to hope,
except that they get me
out of this hellhole soon.

Chris B.

where are you

Everthing I start to do Brings back a memory of you To wash my hair, or read a book Recalls that once familiar look I held you close And, let you go And, never really seemed to know How very much you meant to me And yet, somehow, there will never be Another time, another place Another look, another face That thrills me so...

The poem above is mine. Anne102

Dolphins

The loving energy of a dolphin could never be contained by sea world it's water, splashing over the poolside.

Le Chat du le parle

neuf. parle vous un afiche. je ne sai pas. un tableau. le chat. LE chat. LE Chat. LE CHAT!!! merde.

Wikigoddess

I am the Wikigoddess.
Tremble
No, wait... I've got it
Grovel

I ate the Wikigods for breakfast
Really
That's why there is no article on them
Actually they didn't taste very good

Be good, insignificant worms
And grovel
Or I will eat you, too, for breakfast

I know that time passes because things fall apart

I spent today alone, listening to “Little Wing.”

First by Jimi Hendrix, starting off abruptly, ending in a sublime crescendo and some yelling. “Yeah, yeah, yeah, Little Wing.”

And then Eric Clapton, a duet with a female vocalist, almost too slow to be rhythmic. It sounds like clapping underwater. “Do anything you want,” he says.

And then Stevie Ray Vaughn, too technical. I didn’t care for it, and skipped the track.

And finally Bruce Hornsby, live, by request. “If it sucks, at least I tried it,” he says, lightly practicing the chords needed to fill out the song’s melody. Suddenly, he opens his throat, “Well she’s walking,” and he’s off.

I couldn’t listen to anything else today. First I listened to the song on my speakers, shifting in my chair so I could hear it perfectly, and from every angle. This wasn’t good enough. So I put on my headphones and smashed them against my ears, trying to fill my entire consciousness with the song. It was never close enough. I kept turning it up, pressing my hands against the sides of my head. I tried to fit myself in the tiniest spaces between notes. Listening to Bruce Hornsby spiral away from the melody at the bridge, C-D-E-D-C, C-D-E with his left hand, E-F-G-F-E, E-F-G with his right, I squinted with all my might, waiting for the aural burst that comes when a minor chord shifts to a major.

Because that’s the tender spot, where the sour meets the sweet. In the lonely heartland of growing up, and losing love, and gaining love, and growing younger. In the happy songs and in the sad songs and in the songs that say it all. In the stories that are about nothing and everything at the same time. In the loved, and in the alone. In the spaces between the notes.

--Mary vO

Somewhere

I see the spoils of war - the end is near
magnified tenfold, a whole world burning
everything ever held dear
burning now, burning.

And I ask how is this mercy, and what it answers:
silence - deadly, cold, unmerciful silence
and what is left but rubble:
silence - dreadful, ruined, empty silence

And somewhere, a child is crying,
where hearts are broken and lives stolen
and yet others are trying
to live with unjust promises and hearts still swollen

And somewhere, someone is begging for death
where nothing they do does nothing at best
smother their minds, and take not their breath
that utters the words "lay me to rest"

And somewhere, hearts doubting over darkened pulpits
- lest their words ever to be forgotten
let loose redemption in a bullet
let loose a monster to murder a tyrant

And somewhere, chains bind the weak and the small
where a soul can be traded for silver and gold
coins and diamonds, and even begging for all
all that was lost when all life was sold

And somewhere, the horsemen are called to a fray
with Abaddon's locusts unyielding in pain
while the marks on the foreheads are burning in rage
with ten thousand spears falling like rain

And somewhere, bodies fall like leaves
where the coldest hand of Death reigns supreme
over kingdoms and peasants, for none it leaves
over both good and evil, and then the wildest of dreams

And I ask where is the hope, and what it responds:
silence - deadly, cold, unmerciful silence
and what is there left to be hopeful on?
and it only stood still, and only responded

with dreadful, ruined, hopeless silence...

--Wikiwow

SPOILER ALERT

Spoilers lay ahead;
So skip this poem instead
just stop right now if you know how
or face impending dread

Soilent green is people;
Darth Vader is Luke's dad
I'll tell you all the secrets
though it might make you mad

Rosebud is a sled;
The Sixth Sense guy is dead
I know you can't stop reading
Though you're probably seeing red

Planet of the Apes is Earth;
In Imposter they're both clones
If you haven't seen it comming
Man, it chills you to the bone

The crying game gal's a guy;
The Wicker Man's gonna fry
So take them off your netflix list
And tell me I should die

A message gone unheeded;
So skip your big complaint
I told you not to read it
Next time show some restraint

--Scarlet-=Spider-DavE=- 13:31, 29 November 2006 (UTC)

Night

Sun sinks low, Light becomes scarce And night begins Bringing only bad.

Murderers come out, Theieves sing their song And rapists Take their victims home.

Ghosts start to scare, Spirts reveal themselves And monsters shred their victims Hoping light doesn’t come too quick..

.:MASKED_UNKNOWN_WARRIOR:. 19:57, 29 November 2006 (UTC)

a single stare or a sappy story

Charade

  There are so many hearts
                      you see,
               that beat
                       within my breast.  

   Somedays I wonder which
                      will stop-
             to give the others rest.

     Life could be so simple,
               if they all became 
                          the same.

           The others could be put 
                        to rest,
                              no longer
                                        to play the game.

--Barbara J. Hall 23:07, 29 November 2006 (UTC)

Love

Love is like a glass it can be broken easy.........

why would u say u love me 2 my face but behind m back u want nothing 2 do with me what have i done to deserve this every kiss is amazing and every i love you is the same i want are love to be differnt but do you?

Queer Limerick

There once was a queer limerick It spoke about sucking dick Anal sex and long red knex This poem was wrote by Nick

Suicide and a Broken Heart

A broken heart, a fate worse then death
Like the knife through the heart as you take your last breath
The pain that you feel deep within your soul
Your emotions are sent reeling out of control
It seems like this throbbing pain will never end,
You remember them telling you, your just a friend
"Only friends" they say, "and nothing more"
You hear their screams, as you hit the floor
You hear your friends and family crying
As they stand there helpless, as your dieing
You choke out the words, "I'm sorry mom and dad"
As you stare at your mom whos screaming and so sad
You look over at your body, lying motionless on the ground
And then your at your funeral, your family all around
You feel so horrible for doing this to everyone
Then you realize just what you've done
You took your life, because of some girl or guy
And now you get to watch them all as they mourn and cry
So take my words, take them to heart
Don't end your life because of love
Because if you do you'll only tear your family and friends apart
Don't fall for someone, unless your sure its true love.

EagleEyes^(talk)

Shame

It's bad, I'm bad, I know

Robert and Bob

Bob was a polecat from Poland.
Robert was a raccoon from Russia.
Robert and Bob met in a bog,
And were never heard of again

Smeargle2

Thomas

Thomas the mink was not a happy mustelid.
Carnivorous as he was, he needed meat.
But, as always, live mammals were high in demand, and not common.
Even when they were, they were too expensive for Thomas.
Thomas the mink was not a happy mustelid.

Smeargle2

The Meaning Of Life

_

Erm...

You are just such a fu-
-nny guy and you can eat shi-
-sh kebabs at my place any time, but first you have to shut the f-
-ridge because it's letting cold air out.
--oTHErONE_(Contribs) 15:08, 3 December 2006 (UTC)

Delete!

Delete, delete, delete, delete!
We don't need to hear that some guy's l33t!
We don't need to hear that Muhammad's gay!
We have to throw that crap away!
'Cause we don't need shit in the database!
The best thing for you is to race
Over to Uncyclopedia.
--oTHErONE_(Contribs) 22:27, 3 December 2006 (UTC)

LOL..Instead of the usual poetry, let me just sing along with you the words of the God in Heaven that you refer to as your father "I'm FREE to do as I please...to do as I want" LOL..LOL..LOL..LOL I THINK YOU KNOW! BETTER STOP TAUNTING ME LOL LOL LOL LOL

IF YOU WISH TO BE GREAT, THEN SO YOU SHALL IN YOUR VERY OWN KINGDOM CALLED HELL!!! IF YOU WISH TO BE HUMBLE AND KIND TO ALL, THEN THE LORD YOUR GOD, MAY FORGIVE YOU!!!

Forgotten Rose

The faded crimson of a rose
Blooming wild in a lost garden
In the darkness silently glows
Drinking in pain, its thorns harden

The lush, feather-soft petals boast
Their velvet gentleness stained pale
By the soft gaze of the moon’s ghost
From behind the clouds’ silver veil

Serpentine vines drenched in thorns writhe
Strangling shadows; choking inside
Far above, the hidden stars seethe
Disgusted by such ceaseless pride

Wraithlike perfume shrouds the black air
A requiem from a dead heart
Or maybe a pathetic prayer
Night breathes in the fragrance so swart

As with all forgotten roses:
An abandoned soul in mourning
Whilst in foul half-death it dozes
It grieves an unheeded warning

Blushing in beautiful sadness
Each drop of dew a tear unwept
Craving a time before madness
Lamenting promises unkept

The faded crimson of a rose
Blooming wild in a lost garden
Its petals have yet to close
This eve; gorgeous but forgotten
Think outside the box 12:37, 4 December 2006 (UTC)

If you only could hear it

A dophin's language
Is like a song
Beautful and shining
And forever goes on
Think outside the box 12:49, 4 December 2006 (UTC)

The Lie's Behind the Truth

A lie told often enough, becomes the truth
Things that might seem true, might also seem false
You hear one side of a true story, then you hear the other side
Do you really know what the truth is?
The real truth lies within
When you look deep inside, you find the truth conceald behind the lies
So when someone tells you something is true, its not, find the lie hidden within
No one really tells the truth, no one really knows
The only thing people really know are lies, lies conceal by a so called "truth"
Your life, a lie, your dreams, a lie, your reality, a lie
The only truth is the divine entity known as god
God is the one and only true truth, everything else is just a hidden lie
So consider this next time you hear what you thinks the truth
Tis just a lie thats hidden quite well

Requiem

let your words be solemn
seldom the echos will be the same
but if your eyes cherish the thoughts
those around you may feel no blame
for what has been lost
or what may have been gained
a republic of sloth
and here i lay
i think of the remains
of the trail which had no name.

Don't be stupid

Remember folks,

When you hold someone near,

Never let them be stupid,

Or you will live in fear.

Chris

Thank you for your Fantasy

when tragedy struck
at the very core of my being
i was truly afraid
you offered me your fantasy
i reached out and held onto your fantasy
your fantasy saved me....
but now i must let go and return to my reality

Tribute

The doors are shut,
The windows unkempt,
Not a building, but
Memories that went.

It came as a welcome
With some creamy cafe au lait.
Merrily we'd have some,
From every day to day.

Many strange friends we knew
Would be often seen,
The community, both old and new,
Against a backdrop of green.

Our time here was well-spent,
And leaving we would never surmise.
We did not understand what the troubles meant,
Prohibition was on the rise.

First, they demolished a part,
Despite our opposing call,
Then finally, against our art,
They brought the wrecking ball.

Every day I visit it, I show
Memories beyond relief,
Where one would smell espresso,
Is now all filled with grief.

But as I stand here, staring,
Among the dust and dank,
I feel a thought declaring,
Another hope to thank.

-bibliomaniac15 01:44, 7 December 2006 (UTC)

Listen close To my poetic boasts And ill take you mind To lyrical coasts Where waves of words Slap shores of slight And random thoughts Are rays of light It's good to float But better to swim For the wake you make Paints the place you've been

An Idiot Free Associates on Wikipedia Because He Haseth No Friends

Woken up in the morning again, smashing the mail, clock, bender bleeds past and stays just behind, limits inhibit, I am Identity, Eye runs the visual gauntlet, wearing horse blinders, I'm still wearing Lucy and Ben's clothes, class-dresser, beourgeouisie for a day, heels and Gucci grips legs lank long onto pavement. My arms are covered in sharpie lines, thick black bad memories running the length of my arms, I collect angry stares from strangers. On the sidewalk there are no neighbors. My back pockets grip a wallet, not mine, a knife, booze-in-a-flask, an old Tom Waits casette. trickle of blood from the ear, hard to hear my voice, rambling as always to myself.

I gotta find myself a box.

A dakini_3 Universe

... This is My String Theory
... M-Theory
... the Mother-of-all-Invention
... a polymorphic harmonically vibrating universe of musical strings
... vibrating in Theta 8 Hz Cycle Waves
... where Coltrane is God
... riffing off of Tommy Iommi’s tri-tone flatted 5th
... and the Gyuto Monks
... producing nothing but
... sheer
... Awe

--Dakini 3 08:08, 8 December 2006 (UTC)dakini_3

Silly

Uncared for; Untended hearts

I say I want you to see me but its not true

I cower from your look

Silly Girl,stop confusing

I hold on to you as I push you away

Why am I so silly?

I want to be your silly girl but that could never happen

Your a silly boy and I'm a silly girl but we're from different worlds

My Silly Boy that will never be mine-

Don't know me and don't try

Look in the Mirror

Look into my eyes,

Tell me, what do you see?

My broken heart and my wretched plans

I told you to leave me be.

But you always persisted,

And never let me fall,

Even when my life was spinning out of control.

Look into my eyes.

Can you tell me what I hoped you see?

Only you.

Chris

we're what we were

Bad

just the other day I lay down

an untraditional prepositional phrase

south 'round Georiga indicating that

“I got some mo’ porridge fo’ ya.”

tomorrow morning the son set

sea weed wet and green between

two more oral exams separating

jams of chewed food and damn,

you need to floss more often

and brush your tongue once in awhile

because frankly your breath is

bad.

Love

Love is like a fragile flower, Blooming and Dying, One mistake, Petals falling like a spring shower. Love is like raindrops falling, Softly, gently, Harsh and cold. Love is like the sunrise, In the early morn, Just one spark, To start a flame, And love is born. Love is like a fragile flower, Gently swaying in the wind.

 Kindra Ruble

Medwards likes other men. and he's a man also.

"Ideocracy of Shoulder Lean"

Shoulder Lean Shoulder Lean

I want to get to the top

I want to get to the top of the list

But I don't know where to start.

Maybe, I'll have to stand on my head

And let out a great big fart.

Edo 01:23, 14 December 2006 (UTC)Edo