Post your poetry here. Whether it's funny or serious.
Whoever has the best poem wins.
[spoiler]you get nothing[/spoiler]
Edit: I won
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My name is jafari I go on safaris There's a bomb in my Ferrari Allahu Akbari
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Do Not Go Gentle Into That Good Night I've never made a video before, but Taken King was made for this poem.
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Constant motion of emotion causes propulsion to divulsion.
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I'm a poet But didn't know it But my feet surely show it Because they're long fellows
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Invictus BY WILLIAM ERNEST HENLEY Out of the night that covers me, Black as the pit from pole to pole, I thank whatever gods may be For my unconquerable soul. In the fell clutch of circumstance I have not winced nor cried aloud. Under the bludgeonings of chance My head is bloody, but unbowed. Beyond this place of wrath and tears Looms but the Horror of the shade, And yet the menace of the years Finds and shall find me unafraid. It matters not how strait the gate, How charged with punishments the scroll, I am the master of my fate, I am the captain of my soul.
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Roses are red My name is Dave This poem makes no sense Microwave
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Now, this is a story all about how My life got flipped-turned upside down And I'd like to take a minute Just sit right there I'll tell you how I became the prince of a town called Bel Air In west Philadelphia born and raised On the playground was where I spent most of my days Chillin' out maxin' relaxin' all cool And all shootin some b-ball outside of the school When a couple of guys who were up to no good Started making trouble in my neighborhood I got in one little fight and my mom got scared She said 'You're movin' with your auntie and uncle in Bel Air' I begged and pleaded with her day after day But she packed my suit case and sent me on my way She gave me a kiss and then she gave me my ticket. I put my Walkman on and said, 'I might as well kick it'. First class, yo this is bad Drinking orange juice out of a champagne glass. Is this what the people of Bel-Air living like? Hmmmmm this might be alright. But wait I hear they're prissy, bourgeois, all that Is this the type of place that they just send this cool cat? I don't think so I'll see when I get there I hope they're prepared for the prince of Bel-Air Well, the plane landed and when I came out There was a dude who looked like a cop standing there with my name out I ain't trying to get arrested yet I just got here I sprang with the quickness like lightning, disappeared I whistled for a cab and when it came near The license plate said fresh and it had dice in the mirror If anything I could say that this cab was rare But I thought 'Nah, forget it' - 'Yo, home to Bel Air' I pulled up to the house about 7 or 8 And I yelled to the cabbie 'Yo home smell ya later' I looked at my kingdom I was finally there To sit on my throne as the Prince of Bel Air
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Edited by Choby: 7/6/2015 6:06:01 PMA haiku Wort! Wort! Wo! Wort! Wo! Wort! Wo! Wo! Wort! Wort! Wo!
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Roses are red Violets are blue I am a poet and I didn't even know it
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I sat in my lawn, Looked up at the stars, Gave a small yawn, Then realized I can't rhyme for shit.
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Dread By Me [spoiler]No u[/spoiler]
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A poem from Persona 4 Golden "Sea Foam" Listen… To my voice.. My shouting, bellowing voice… Here I am Pouring my blood into my words Yelling at the very edge of the world… I am the little mermaid… Unable to return, the little mermaid... Fated to foam, the little mermaid…
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Slam! Poetry! Yelling! Angry! Wa-ving my hands, a lot! Specific point of view, on things, CYNTHIA, CYN- THI-A, Jesus died for our, CYN-THI-As, Jesus cried, runaway bride, JULIA ROBERTS, JULIA ROB-hurts, CYNTHIA, Mmmmmmmmmm cynthia, You're dead, You are dead, Bop boop beep bop bop boop bop, You're dead -that's for Cynthia, who's dead *drops mic*
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Roses are black Violet are black Everything is black I can't see
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Roses are red The item is blue The engram was purple Sucks to be you - The Cryptarch, 2014
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Roses are red Violets are fu*king purple
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Edited by Herakles: 7/6/2015 4:12:57 AMThis is a haiku. *ehem* [i]"Haikus are easy But sometimes they don't make sense Refriegerator"[/i] Thank you very much. *bows*
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Obviously not mine.
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Roziz r red teh grass iz green u r teh biggest fagit I has ever seen. -spodermen
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Roses are grey violets are grey Everything is grey I'm a dog -dog
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Roses are red, Violets are blue, I have 5 fingers, And the middle ones for you.
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Roses are red Violets are blue I have a gun Get in the van
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Post poems for the king here.
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Couple of Haikus: Oh, what? Yeah, what, bitch? Yeah, I just slapped you and stuff. What you gonna do? Lubrication is A means of making things work. His is grease. Mine? Blood. [spoiler]anyone know where these are from?[/spoiler]
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Edited by Woupsea: 7/6/2015 12:53:46 AMThe only poem I've ever legitimately liked (it's a long one) ((Kubla Khan)) [spoiler]In Xanadu did Kubla Khan A stately pleasure-dome decree: Where Alph, the sacred river, ran Through caverns measureless to man Down to a sunless sea. So twice five miles of fertile ground With walls and towers were girdled round; And there were gardens bright with sinuous rills, Where blossomed many an incense-bearing tree; And here were forests ancient as the hills, Enfolding sunny spots of greenery. But oh! that deep romantic chasm which slanted Down the green hill athwart a cedarn cover! A savage place! as holy and enchanted As e’er beneath a waning moon was haunted By woman wailing for her demon-lover! And from this chasm, with ceaseless turmoil seething, As if this earth in fast thick pants were breathing, A mighty fountain momently was forced: Amid whose swift half-intermitted burst Huge fragments vaulted like rebounding hail, Or chaffy grain beneath the thresher’s flail: And mid these dancing rocks at once and ever It flung up momently the sacred river. Five miles meandering with a mazy motion Through wood and dale the sacred river ran, Then reached the caverns measureless to man, And sank in tumult to a lifeless ocean; And ’mid this tumult Kubla heard from far Ancestral voices prophesying war! The shadow of the dome of pleasure Floated midway on the waves; Where was heard the mingled measure From the fountain and the caves. It was a miracle of rare device, A sunny pleasure-dome with caves of ice! A damsel with a dulcimer In a vision once I saw: It was an Abyssinian maid And on her dulcimer she played, Singing of Mount Abora. Could I revive within me Her symphony and song, To such a deep delight ’twould win me, That with music loud and long, I would build that dome in air, That sunny dome! those caves of ice! And all who heard should see them there, And all should cry, Beware! Beware! His flashing eyes, his floating hair! Weave a circle round him thrice, And close your eyes with holy dread For he on honey-dew hath fed, And drunk the milk of Paradise.[/spoiler]
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I walk down the valley And see a gally But they took it away For that they shall pay I will strike through the darkness Without any fear Hoping to see My gally on the way there.