Some poetry I've written

[gran guerrero]

I like some of your opinions on the poetry I've written for AP English/leisure/Contests. Mostly all of them are Free verse
"Cyclos" is a concrete poem (creates an image through its' structure)
"Untapped Potential" is a cinquain poem (5 line stanza with the syllable structure of 2-4-6-8-2)
"Poor Blood" is a sonnet (14 line stanza with iambic pentameter and 10 syllables in each line - read some shakespeare)

Cyclos

Whirling, twirling, swirling and curling.
Soaring, unfurling and destroying.
Winding and twining its’ mind,
Roaring a sound oh so boring.
Moving like a Cyclops's eye,
Spinning and turning with
Blindness. It’s barbed
With teeth - making
You hide beneath.
Pray and weep,
Before it meets
And puts you
To sleep.
Quiet...

Untapped Potential

Sleeping
through the work, yet
awake for discussion.
His grades are failing, but not his
genius.

Poor Blood

The blood that I woefully once had shed,
A sinful act, which I did not intend.
It was not over what he had ever said,
He was once my very jolly good friend.
Over what was the last tiny, piece of bread -
Our blood had boiled a bright, burning red.
I woefully did what we both did dread:
I sorely do grieve, for now he is dead.
Our once timid emotions - then went wild.
Intentions: I wished that would have fled.
Kind hearts are now gone, that once were so mild.
For some of God’s forgiveness: I have pled.
Aside from our bond as lowly peasants,
Surviving this world - made us unpleasant.

[gran guerrero]

Everything else I've written has been Free verse

Love Lost, Life Gained

Heart broken - My love for you: shunned away.

Countless, endless nights gone without any sleep.
My mind so young was blinded by your eyes.

Days have gone by, wondering my sad life
And I think about the time that we shared -
From the moment I had asked for your name,

To the first time our lips tasted loves bliss.
Our souls once intertwined, now disappeared.
Blank now is our sight lines for each other:
Hollow feelings - except our memories.

Time continues on, my age now older.
Life moves on - I wonder where I went wrong.
My emotions stay young, though now I'm wise.
Long gone the naive heart I once possessed.
That love was then lost, but my life has gained.
----------------------------------------------
Him

Him - who created and destroyed so many.
Him - who helped and give hope to so many.
Him - who is used as an excuse for so many.

Him, will you save us now,
from those that label their actions in
your name.

Him, will you work side by side,
with those that detest and try to disprove
your name.

Him, will you reveal yourself,
as truth unveiled or stay hidden with the force behind
your name.

Him who might be a Her -
Whatever It may be:
Are you still protecting us?
Or have you now gone?
-----------------------
Message for a Crying Mother

My rage ever sensational,
with her pain never so subtle.

The suitcase packed and ready.

The music growing louder -
Lupe Fiasco shuffled in now, track 13:

“The ink of the scholar
is worth a thousand times more - 
than the blood of the martyr!”

I ponder those words. . .

Birds are outside chirpin'
I now start to wonder -
they fly off into the horizon.

My frustration takes a break.

Without my clothes,
except for those on my rear hind;

I leave behind,
A message:

To my mother whose beauty hasn't aged a year.
My story won't be another King Lear -
so flee from your fears,
and shed your tears.
Your son does not leave to fight,
nor does he depart out of fright.

May his life acquire a plan,
that your love has given demand -
with your hope as his command.

Your boy is now a man.
----------------------
A Holiday Deferred

“What is Valentine’s Day?”

- Is it commercialism at its’ finest?
Where, some people can brag about how much they’re loved.

- Is it a day for love maybe?
But what type of love?
Love at first sight?
For those whose futures seem so bright
That might dim out sometime in their life.
Or love that needs to be justified on this day?
Where, the other 364 days could now follow
But might help spark a light in their life.

- Maybe it is a reminder of our sorrow?
On this holiday:
Where every passing chocolate and rose
Accompanied by a hug and a kiss -
Reinforces the pain, 
For those that are
Truly alone
------------
Spotlight

The sun’s light pierces the dark fog.
My name creates murmurs in the dark fog.
My looks draw stares from eerie eyes in the dark fog.

All my actions are judged,
I’m not even allowed to sweat.
The pressure is overwhelming
I step out into the darkness.

I make myself look ugly.
That way, when I make a mistake -
The world will just ignore me.
But if I want to be back in -
I just make myself look good again,
And step back into the spotlight
Only to have the world ask me:
“Where have you been?”

“Was away,” I said.
“Stand up straight.”
My posture stood tall for the world,
But my eyes betrayed my feelings.
For the light I stand in –
Shows all – for those in the dark fog.
-----------------------------------
Know This

You may have questions that you want to know
And I might have answers for your knowing.
I know you would like to know,
But know this -
You either know or you don’t know
And knowing the unknown is good -
Because knowing is a great way to learn.
However, it is better to know nothing
Than to know anything,
That may be something we might not want to know.
So, what is it that you want to know?
That, by chance, I might know.
But what if I don’t know?
Knowing this, what will you do then?
Will you find it out yourself, so you can know?
Or will you disregard the question, because no one knows.
The knowledge of that, is then lost.
Now knowing what is to be known – is now unknown.
What then will we know?
------------------------
On the Road

On the road
We travel relentlessly,
With our destination, that is uncertain.

Fugitives to our home –
Our hearts pushes the pedal
Yet our minds, will hit the break.

We’re wandering rebels:
Without any goals to follow,
Yet we happen to find ourselves –

On the road.
-------------
The Cold

Sick to my stomach,
Pounding in my head,
Sniffling and coughing -
I lay shivering in my bed.

Quivering, I stare off into the night
Wondering if I am now dead
Tomorrow will come anew
With hope of warmth
For my body from that
Of what was spread.

I awake with a sneeze;
I swear under my breath -
The pain has not subsided,
Rather, has gotten worse, than what was said:
It will be over with a good night's rest.
A week has now gone by -
“Why have I, not gotten better?”
I say, with much dismay.

My head felt like a brick
I'm sick of being sick
Like my blood being sucked by a tick -
I burn off this sickness,
With only my thoughts.
“No more,” I said;
Just like that - I felt numbness
To replace the pain that caused my madness.

My eyes are awake now for I see
I was never in bed
Nor sick - which I felt in me.
I look around me;
Now understanding, it was all in my mind
For I did feel sick: mentally;


I stared at the paper
That examined my health -
It read three months
Till that one, cold day -

The day that I will never feel sick again.
My heart ached then
With tears flowing

Growing, was the pain I felt
Knowing the cold I will feel

A cold, so surreal...
-------------------
Together

I’m chained to your greed.
Alone I cry out,
Tortured and beaten I receive -
For all that I plea!
I explain to you that I’m not insane,
But my yells all fall in vain...

Now, no longer chained all alone
My brethren beside me let me now know -
No longer is it just “Me”
But rather, I am apart of “We”
Together we stand tall,
Then do we break free!

The world now belongs to us!
There is so much to see!

But what will become of us?
What shall we be?
------------------
Holocaust

The fumes from the factory
Blackened the already dark sky -
We walked in a cramped crowd,
Toward our impending doom, we continued.
Most prayed, most cried -
I was just a boy.
Amongst my people to suffer the same fate
Hot, Salty tears streamed off my bony face
My visible rib cage, cringed to the sounds
That came from the Factory.
“What did I do to deserve this?”
I was just a boy.
I went to school and played like “them”
But it was how I prayed that brought me here.
We prayed to the same God,
But we differed from “their” Savior.
I could see the one star visible through the smoggy air;
I looked at the star tattooed on my innocent body.
It made me strong, walking into the factory.
Despite my frail body
I stood tall amongst my people -
I was just a boy.
But, what I was being persecuted for
Made me strong -
It made all of us strong.
I didn’t cry anymore when the doors of genocide closed on us -
I was just a boy.
Who, with the help of a star – 
Stayed strong
--------------
Beauty in My Sleep

May I paint your picture?
The girl of my dreams -
Whom I speak of without prose,
I wish to draw your exquisite slender body
Trace exact measures from
Your enchanting eyes
To your luscious, red lips
Your sense of wit,
Outstands any sublime mind.
Brushstroke, I will –
The long, flowing brown hair
You contain, that matches your 
Enchanting, hazelnut eyes.
Oh, I cannot forget
The cute, subtle nose.
Your intellect surpasses your beauty
Your beauty is beyond perfection
That even the Gods would envy
No paint can pay tribute
To vibrant color you possess
No sheen can portray
The radiance you express
Oh tell me what is your name?
The girl of my dreams -
That I may paint your picture
Or more so, “Can I paint your picture?”
For my canvas is blank
Because I don’t know how to paint
Perfection – That never existed
For you are only,
The girl of my dreams.

[IceStorm]

so
were posting poetry now

[Pummel]

I like 'Cyclos'




yo mommas posting poetry ice newb

[Ignominy]

I didn't read the freeverse because I don't care for that much.

Working on using iambs (which would traditionally be used in sonnets, I think) will make your words flow much smoother -- which seems to be my main issue with these. "very jolly good" seriously made me wince. I'm not saying iambs are the end all be all, but if you pay attention to stress of syllables, then it'll make you a better writer, not only in poems with form, but in freeverse as well.

Also work on looking at a big picture for your pieces. Stick to an overall theme in form, and things will come off less awkwardly.

I used to write a long time ago, but I don't anymore, but I was ok at it when I did, it's just not entertaining.

[cundor]

It's so dangerous to post your poems on TW forums

[Fit of Rage]

The first its in Cyclos should have no apostrophe. Its (possessive) versus it's (it is, contraction).

[Pearl Jam]

wiggity wiggity whack...i play xbox and then i dominate your mother in the sack

alas, mature wimmens be the best wimmens for the pickens, stated by charles dickens!

[gran guerrero]

The first its in Cyclos should have no apostrophe. Its (possessive) versus it's (it is, contraction).

no it was suppose to be contraction

It’s barbed
With teeth - making

It is barbed
With Teeth - making

the possessive works also, but it's works as well.

[gran guerrero]

I didn't read the freeverse because I don't care for that much.

I put more effort into the free verse, cause the sonnet was just something for lit. fair and I had a difficult time with it.

[WorstPlayerEver]

I entered a poetry contest and actually had this one published....


Picture
__________
Above the mountains majesty,
there stood clouds; two or three.

And wrapped around
in brilliant glow
so still and sound
A Rainbow.

Through the mist; above, the sky,
Is blue, and brilliant, to the eye.

And the sun peeks through
the mountain tops
as the golden hue
on the field drops.

[Fit of Rage]

no it was suppose to be contraction

It’s barbed
With teeth - making

It is barbed
With Teeth - making

the possessive works also, but it's works as well.

No, I meant the line:

"Winding and twining its’ mind"

[Bioture]

It's ok.

[WorstPlayerEver]

Another one that I wrote.. I hope you don't mind me sharing too gran. I used to get into poetry quite often.



The Stream
_____________
The Wind Blows
Icy, Cold
Staring At The Face
Of An Empty Stream.
Confused By-
Apparent Warmth.
Twas a Dream.

Please...
Fill The Stream,
Let Warm Days
Truely Flow.
And Understand -Love-
In All Ways.
Till The Day I Go.

[gran guerrero]

Another one that I wrote.. I hope you don't mind me sharing too gran. I used to get into poetry quite often.

NO ONLY MY POETRY ALLORWD!!!

I kid I kid, I welcome it WPE, I liked Picture