Having Some Fun Writing
If blood were mud
And milk was silk
We'd all hurt for dirt
And scheme for cream.
If flies were wise
And hills were pills
We'd all hug the bugs
And pop the tops.
If everything was truly something
And anything was nothing
This little rhyme of mine
Would hence make sense.
But free verse can be a curse
In many a witless word heard
When the writer drinks hard-cider
And recalls naught of what he originally thought!
poem by Smoky Hoss
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
Pills for Pain. Blood for hurt
How much can a person endure
Before realising pills make the pain stop
They numb all feeling and leave you cold
Cold and dead inside
Pills for pain blood for hurt
It trickles slowly out
The harder you push the faster the hurt escapes
How can a person hurt themselves
When all they do is hurt
When you hurt emotionally physically is easier
Pills for pain blood for hurt
To be nobody to no one
To be unloved and unknown
I am know by the pills
They know me
They make me a someone
Pills for pain blood for hurt
To have a heart broken
Shattered and screaming for less hurt
To feel so much love and the next day non
Pills for pain blood for hurt
Love leads to pain
Caring leads to hurt
Pills for pain
Blood for hurt
Nobody to save me
poem by Maxine Isherwood
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Free Verse
I admire all the aims of Free Verse,
‘tis explicit in all that I do
in shaping the stress to converse
with a rhyme-scheme restricted to two.
That I stay with this number is true, -
a linguistic abuse, maybe worse,
how it weighs and encumbers the view! -
but French art needs its aid, though perverse.
Else the Muse would be dumb to a curse,
for to accent, the lingo’s deaf too, -
though what can one do? All’s averse
to fantasy rhyme calls on cue!
May Free Verse’s aims bring joy unto
the young sparks who chance meanings coerce -
whose mental gymnastics’ fun value
is the fire to inspire hopes they’d nurse.
They’re young colts who green pastures traverse
with gravity worthy their virtue,
though mad they’re superb, and no hearse
they’d inherit! Free Verse tempts! You too?
poem by Paul Verlaine, translated by Jonathan Robin
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Nothing
Pain
All consuming
Like a fire
I can't breathe
There's nothing left
What have you done?
My hands are shaking
I can't sit still
My mind is racing
My heart is breaking
Strangled gasps
Heart races
It's all a blur
Where am I?
What happened?
Who are you?
You stole my breath
My mind
My heart
My body
Are you a thief?
Are you a liar?
Who is it that can do something so small,
Yet so large
That I have nothing left
Only pain
Only rage
Only hurt
Only tears
Only blood
Only fears
Only death
Have you stolen everything?
Or is my life still left?
I hear naught
I see naught
I feel naught
I smell naught
I taste naught
Am I nothing?
Are you nothing?
There's nothing left
I sense nothing
I know nothing
This must mean I am nothing
It must mean you are nothing
Am I nobody?
Like a myth
Like a legend
Like a story
Does this make everything I've said
And done
And felt
Unreal
Like a dream
Or a story
Or a thought
So it never happened?
You didn't make me love you?
You didn't hurt me?
You didn't make me cry?
Make me bleed?
Make me suffer?
You didn't leave me there
On the street
On a sidewalk
So I could bleed out?
You didn't hold a knife?
You didn't violate me?
You didn't kill me?
You didn't walk away?
You didn't lie?
I didn't exist meaning
You didn't exist so
You must not have
Meaning
I am not dead because
I just never existed
And you are not alive
Because you never existed
We are just nothing
poem by Gwenevere Cornwell
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Word On A Wing
In this age of grand illusion you walked into my life out of my dreams
I dont need another change, still you forced away into my scheme of things
You say were growing, growing heart and soul
In this age of grand illusion you walked into my life out of my dreams
Sweet name, youre born once again for me
Sweet name, youre born once again for me
Oh sweet name, I call you again, youre born once again for me
Just because I believe dont mean I dont think as well
Dont have to question everything in heaven or hell
Lord, I kneel and offer you my word on a wing
And Im trying hard to fit among your scheme of things
Its safer than a strange land, but I still care for myself
And I dont stand in my own light
Lord, lord, my prayer flies like a word on a wing
My prayer flies like a word on a wing
Does my prayer fit in with your scheme of things?
In this age of grand illusion you walked into my life out of my dreams
Sweet name, youre born once again for me
Just as long as I can see, Ill never stop this vision flowing
I look twice and youre still flowing
Just as long as I can walk
Ill walk beside you, Im alive in you
Sweet name, youre born once again for me
And Im ready to shape the scheme of things
Ooh, ready to shape the scheme of things
Ooh, ready to shape the scheme of things
Ooh, ready to shape the scheme of things
Ooh, ready to shape the scheme of things
Ooh, ready to shape the scheme of things
Ooh...
Lord, I kneel and offer you my word on a wing
And Im trying hard to fit among your scheme of things
Its safer than a strange land, but I still care for myself
And I dont stand in my own light
Lord, lord, my prayer flies like a word on a wing
And Im trying hard to fit among your scheme of things
Its safer than a strange land, but I still care for myself
And I dont stand in my own light
Lord, lord, my prayer flies like a word on a wing
My prayer flies like a word on a wing
Does my prayer fit in with your scheme of things?
song performed by by David Bowie
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Old Man Took
For the last time
I watched old man took bait his hook
And then throw his line
Pick up his wine
Hes a friend of mine
Known him all my life and his wife
neath the swayin pine
And the clingin vine
Just before he left
He said now young man
Take good care dont let the bugs bite
Please make sure to say a word at night
For all your brothers feeling blue
Blue, blue, blue
All the time
So I stayed awhile
Took my tea alone, called it home
Like a playing child
Running wild
Heard a bluejay call
Said we got you now
Hope you bow
To the old mans word
Im sure you heard
Just before he left
He said now young man
Take good care dont let the bugs bite
Please make sure to say a word at night
For all your brothers feeling blue
Blue, blue, blue
All the time
Now young man
Take good care dont let the bugs bite
Please make sure to say a word at night
For all your brothers feeling blue
Feeling blue
Feeling blue
Feeling blue
Feeling blue
Feeling blue
Feeling blue
Feeling blue
Feeling blue ...
song performed by by America
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Alankar(Decor) -108
Sugar Cravings (Compound Word Verse)
The Compound Word Verse is:
stanzaic, written in 5 tercets.
syllabic,8-8-3 syllables per line.
rhymed, rhyme scheme aax bbx ccx ddx eex; x being unrhymed.
each tercet ends with a compound of a stem word in the title.
Sugar Cravings
Look, how a diabetic craves
Despite doctor's caution enslaves
For sugar
Watch firstly how he just slips out
To the kitchen snouted, we doubt
Sugary
Watch more as he goes out for 'walk'-
Daily halt for a sweet shoptalk
High sugared
Then at a wedding, just don't miss
He gobbles the way all with' issssss'
Sugar tongued
Sugar and spice'-his only hymn
Tell me, who can stop and change him
Sugar free
poem by Indira Renganathan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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An Amateur Penner Is All I Can Be
An amateur penner is all I can be and my worth as a rhymer I doubt
But when you tell me there's music in blank verse I wonder what you are on about
I've always thought music has rhythm and rhyme and is married to rhyming song
But of literature and music I am not a judge and maybe I do have it wrong
The music in good rhyming poetry one sense at least that's how it does seem to me
But I'm leaving room for an argument here and some with me may not agree
But that's my opinion make of it what you may we all look at things differently
If we all looked at life in the very same way how dull and boring we would be
Some will tell you a songwriter is not a poet their opinion on that is different to mine
Like some are very happy to welcome the rain and some want the day warm and fine
You tell me that there is music in blank verse though I cannot see it that way
But your opinion on the matter is as good as mine and with me that is quite okay
Oh give me a song that is built of good rhyme that to music is easy to sing
With such I am happy for to sing along and I find it such a joyful thing.
poem by Francis Duggan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Give It Back
[hook:]
Give it back, give it back, give it back
(give my uh uh back)
Give it back, give it back, give it back
(give my uh uh back)
Give it back
Give it back, give it back, give it back
(give my uh uh back)
Give it back, give it back, give it back
(give my uh uh back)
[verse i:]
I thought I met a good man whose name I wont discuss
He sold me a dream that we were really in love
But I heard it on the street that you were steppin out on me
Now Im walking out that door and taking everything with me
Give it to me back
[hook]
[babys rap]
[verse 2:]
You say you want your car back and the keys to your house
But theres one thing I want before I get the hell out
No recalls, no coupon, I wants my refund
Im sorry I met you cuz boy youre not the one
[hook]
[bridge:]
I heard it, heard it on the street
You were steppin out on me
No coupons, no recalls
I want my refund, yeah
[manny freshs rap]
[hook]
song performed by by Toni Braxton
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Song Of A Rhyming Man
I love the sound of rhyming words like Dan will rhyme with Ann
And I could never be a poet just call me rhyming man
This modern verse too much for me it's way above my head
Though modern poets are now the rage and Rhyme is with the dead.
I love the sound of rhyming words, I love the verse that rhyme
To blank or free or non rhyme verse prefer it every time
And there's many who will disagree and most will say I'm wrong
But give me ballad or rhyme verse or good old rhyming song.
You may say I am limited and with you most will agree
That I'm not into modern verse of twenty first century
But I've been an old style rhyming man since nineteen seventy three
And I am in my sixties now and there's no changing me.
I love the sound of rhyming words like Dan will rhyme with Ann
And I could never be a poet just call me rhyming man
And I am guilty of no sin and I can't see no crime
In liking sound of rhyming verse and loving words that rhyme
poem by Francis Duggan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Word That Wouldn’t Fit (Fun Poem 25)
A writer’s life is full of woe,
you find a word you like,
then you write something,
and try to fit that word in,
but when you look again.
That word you thought of
it just won’t fit in,
no matter how hard you try it,
that word just will not go.
In a fit of frustration,
you stick it here and there.
Just like jigsaw puzzle
where the pieces will not fit,
so this word will not go anywhere.
In the end you say, “OH heck! ”
Then you put the word
to the back of your mind.
Maybe another day
in another poem,
that word just might fit.
Having said all that,
I’m not betting on it.
poem by David Harris
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Rhyming Flu
It’s 1: 15 A.M.
I’m sitting here in bed;
I want to go to sleep,
But rhymes are in my head.
I just came upstairs;
I was just on the com,
Working out a poem;
For Ainaa to recite in the morn.
The problem with rhyme and I;
Is that it starts and never stops,
Remember it’s one o’clock;
But rhymes still pulse my thoughts.
So I’m writing this very rhyme;
Hoping my rhyme runs out,
But such a hope’s impossible;
When my rhymes are as abundant as trout.
I know what you all are thinking:
“This rhyme is simply a gimmick;
This boy’s not really sleepy,
He’s wide awake with this limerick.”
“This story of sleep is really;
Just some tricky plot,
To make you think he flows out rhyme;
Like water from a cracked pot.”
But, nay, it is true;
I’ve got the rhyming flu,
I’m hoping that by writing this rhyme;
All my rhymes shall be through.
Aha, I know the cure;
The medicine’s no longer obscure!
To end this awful rhyme;
I need a word that does NOT rhyme!
I’ve heard of the word before;
It’s like English’s Achilles heel,
No matter how hard you rhyme;
Its un-rhyming-ness is an iron veil.
Touché now rhyming flu;
This word I give to you!
Try rhyming the word ‘month’
…Ha-ha, you can’t now, can you! ?
The rhyming flu has left me…
I can feel it leaving my mind…
Ahhh… I am so relieved…
The clock says it’s now sleepy time...
…zZzZZZ
poem by Warren Chan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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0338 Just couldn't hack it
A hard writing I had of it;
the words clumsy, the sense banal...
escaping from rhyme isn't easy;
half a lifetime to work up to it
then like skirt length, that's it,
the line's short this season,
and rhyme is, so, like, so last year...
(and must be insincere
if you have to work at it
or even want to)
so there I was in the
midst of getting the
hang of cutting the line at the
best place for the
sense, to avoid the
artificial on the
one hand and the
banal on the
other -the
art that conceals the
art -
and scenting euphony, when suddenly -
a crash - and in there lumbered - 'woodenly'...
I twigged instantly that it wouldn't
go without a struggle;
and called in Suddenly for questioning -
had they some sort of pact in the recesses of my mind -
kissin' cousins, blood brothers, partners in rhyme?
Suddenly denied this vigorously -
never been asked such a question before,
wouldn't want to associate etc.;
a word only used by theatre critics...
So I sighed and threw out my neatly chopped prose,
spontaneity, jokes, and anything goes;
and returned to meaningful old-fashioned verse
so woodenly crafted - well, poets have done worse.
poem by Michael Shepherd
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Hard To Say I'm Sorry
Verse 1:
The words of mine had been so bad
I didnt wanna make you sad
The troubles gone, here I am to blame
Can you hear me now, I am calling your name
How could I be so mean to you
Please let me know, what I can do
I feel ashamed, I was such a fool
Hope its not too late, I was trying to be cool
Chorus:
Its hard to say Im sorry, I regret
I didnt mean to hurt you
Its hard to say Im sorry, please forgive
Im still in love with you
Its hard to say Im sorry
Post-Chorus:
I want your love
I want your heart
Oh, let me tell you Im sorry
I want your love
I want your heart
Oh, let me tell you Im sorry
Verse 2:
Since youve been gone, I feel alone
I miss your smile, Im on my own
Im calling you, just to hear your voice
You are hurt deep inside, Im not one of these boys
Where do I go, without your love
Dont wanna stop, Its not enough
One more chance, we can make it right
Hope its not too late, cause I swallowed my foolish pride
Chorus:...
Post-Chorus:...
Verse 3:
The words of mine had been so bad
I didnt wanna make you sad
The troubles gone, here I am to blame
Can you hear me now, I am calling your name
Chorus:...
Post-Chorus
song performed by by DJ Bobo
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Free Verse or Prose
Sadly, to me
This thing they call Prose
Is naught but just talk,
And often verbose;
I think it's too easy
And honestly, I'm
Just wanting to say
I much prefer rhyme.
And almost the same is the
Form called Free Verse,
It isn't for me, I'm not keen,
And what's worse:
Explaining the differences
Should be a breeze,
But even amongst the 'experts'
No one agrees.
Now I'm no academic
But I won't be fooled
By the 'cleverer' people,
By the so-called, 'well-schooled';
I favour good rhyming
O'er Free Verse or Prose,
And I'm calling to mind now
The Emperor's New Clothes.
poem by John Carter Brown
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Don't Say Goodbye
Don't say, goodbye!
Or sigh up alibis...
To leave me miffed,
And teary eyed.
'Cause,
You've got my heart.
You've got my mind.
Emotionally...
There is no peace I can find!
'Cause,
Most of the time,
I feel entrapped and confined.
Without a bit of self defense.
None that comes that makes to me any sense.
'Cause,
I had believed...
You were as happy as me.
But I see you desire to leave,
Me hurting deeply and permanently!
Don't say,
Goodbye!
Don't patronize me with lies sighed!
You're dirt and not worth it.
Not even to curse.
And I can't believe all you did was deceive.
You're dirt and not worth it.
Not even to curse.
But...
Don't say, goodbye!
Or sigh up alibis...
To leave me miffed,
And teary eyed.
'Cause,
You've got my heart.
You've got my mind.
Emotionally...
There is no peace I can find!
You're dirt and not worth it.
Not even to curse.
But...
Don't say,
Goodbye!
You're dirt and not worth it.
Not even to curse.
But...
Don't say,
Goodbye!
You're dirt and not worth it.
Not even to curse.
But...
Don't say,
Goodbye!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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I Got Spots
I came out in spots on my body,
I thought 'twas the measles 'n' all;
I scratched 'til I took off a layer of skin,
Just like wallpaper peeled off a wall.
'Bout a week ago, that's when it started,
Up 'til then I was feeling alright;
I just got up one day feeling itchy,
And my legs were a terrible sight.
At first I was blaming the midges,
Or some insect of similar ilk;
It felt like the blighters were sucking my blood
Like a baby would suck for it's milk.
It wasn't too bad in the day time,
I was busy and found I could scoff;
But at bed time I couldn't ignore them,
I kept scratching and couldn't dropp off.
So I gave up and went to the doctor,
And he looked, and he mused for a while;
'It isn't the measles, that's certain, '
He said, with a wry sort of smile.
'Has your wife messed around with the powder
That she puts in her washing-machine;
Has she changed it from one to another,
In her efforts to get the clothes clean? '
'In some powders you see, there are enzymes,
Little bugs that can eat all the dirt;
They just love all the stains on your trousers,
And the sweat that gets into your shirt.'
'But, the job done, they have to be rinsed out,
If they're not then your skin can display
Itchy blotches, just like the ones you have,
... An allergic reaction I'd say! '
With a stroke of his pen, a prescription
He wrote, to provide me with cream;
'Rub it on three or four times a day Mr Brown,
Then at night I am sure you will dream.'
So I now must undress in the bathroom,
Several times in the day, and prepare
To do battle with millions of enzymes;
To be smothered in cream... IT'S NOT FAIR!
Written Oct 1994
poem by John Carter Brown
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Gratitude
I found a starving cat in the street:
It cried for food and a place by the fire.
I carried it home, and I strove to meet
The claims of its desire.
And since its desire was a little fish,
A little hay and a little milk,
I gave it cream in a silver dish
And a basket lined with silk.
And when we came to the grateful pause
When it should have fawned on the hand that fed,
It turned to a devil all teeth and claws,
Scratched me and bit me and fled.
To pay for the fish and the milk and the hay
With a purr had been an easy task:
But its hate and my blood were required to pay
For the gifts that it did not ask.
poem by Edith Nesbit
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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An Irreverent Poem about Wordsworth
I wandered lonely as a cloud
That floats on high o'er vales and hills,
When all at once I saw a crowd,
A host of golden daffodils -
I was feeling rather pleased with myself
And my poetic skills,
When suddenly I got a fright -
I'd forgotten to take my pills!
The pills enable me to write
And rhyme and scan as well,
Some people say it is just sh*te
Exclaiming 'Go to hell! '
I write about flowers and beggars and sheep
And lots of soppy things,
Young women read my verse and weep
While angels flap their wings.
My name is Wordsworth (call me Bill)
And modern students find me a bore,
But I'll go on bleating forever until
They boot me out and lock the door! !
poem by John Thorkild Ellison
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Convo
You tell me that theres love here.
But to me its blatant.
Nothin but all the blood here.
Im dealin with satan.
Plus with all the hatin
Its hard to keep peace. (uh huh)
Thou shall not steal,
But I will to eat.
I tried doin good, but
Goods not too good for me.
Misunderstood,
Why you chose the hood for me.
Mean Im aiight,
I just had to work hard at it.
Went to granma for answers,
She told me that God had it.
So now here I am,
Confused and full of questions.
Am I born to lose,
Or is this just a lesson.
And who its goin choose
When it gets turned around.
And will it be
Layin in my own blood
And on the ground.
My child,
Ive watched you grow up
And Ive been there. (uh huh)
Even at those times
You least suspected it
I was there.
And look at what Ive given you
A talent to rhyme.
I may not come when you call,
But Im always on time.
Somebodys knockin.
Should I let em in.
Lord were just startin,
But where will it end.
Somebodys knockin.
Should I let em in.
Lord were just startin,
But where will it end.
But when the funds are low
The gunsll blow.
Lookin for that one that owe,
Make em run that dough.
No!
Put down the guns
And write a new rhyme.
Youll get it all in due time.
Youll do fine.
Just have faith
Cuz you mine. (uh huh)
And when you shine
Its goin be a sight to behold.
So dont fight to be old,
Or lose sight when its cold.
See that light down the road,
Its goin guide you there
Two sets of footsteps,
I was right beside you there.
But what about them times i
Only saw one.
Those were the times that I was
Under the gun,
It was then I carried you my son.
Led you to safety.
It just wasnt your time to face me. (uh huh)
Ayo a few of them times I thought you would erase me.
But all you did was embrace me.
Prepared me for the worst.
Offered me eternal light,
And scared me with the hearse.
And the curse
Turned to grace.
When the hurt
Turned to faith.
No more runnin, (uh huh)
And slidin in the dirt
Cuz Im safe.
Somebodys knockin.
Should I let em in.
Lord were just startin,
But where will it end.
Somebodys knockin.
Should I let em in.
So if Im yo man
Im in yo hand.
Wus yo plan.
Never had a friend
Cuz you couldnt trust your man.
Learned to stand before I crawled.
Things were twisted!
And if you showed me anything at all
Then I missed it.
Looked the wrong way. (uh huh)
Ive done some wrong things. (true)
Kept a bad attitude,
But thats what wrong brings.
And now you mean to tell me that
After all this time,
It was you that kept the dog from goin out of his mind.
It was you that breathed life
Into my lungs when I was born.
And it was you that let me know
What was right,
From what was wrong.
And it was you that let me do
What I knew what could be done.
And it was you that gave me a good wife
And a beautiful son.
And its been you speakin to me
Inside my mind.
And its been you who has forgiven
Time after time.
It was you who opened my eyes
So I could see.
And it was you who shined yo
Light on me.
song performed by by DMX
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Versatile Verse - Polyacrostic Sonnet
Vanity within a verse scheme gave
Each alphomega, each word's aura, ease.
Run through in print, as content rhymes to please,
Springs, rising sprightly, links few see, most crave.
Apart here thread we tight, taut, autoclave,
Tacit, yes, yet pate-play may seem tease.
In lines smooth I express this hidden frieze, -
Lucid keepsake, light, keen, subtle stave.
Emphatic theme expect, - interpret rave!
Vain verse-vine vile? Voice very vivid? Seize
Externals terse are shade, sense secret keys.
Rare is this art, rare verses are, - rhyme save.
A sonnet's stress sometimes less shows than's hid, -
Here's an example baring message grid.
poem by Jonathan Robin
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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