Epic Poem
This poem is epic
so I named it so
it's more epic than wind and snow
which are in there own respects quite epic
snow could be described as ghetto
and wind can take on epic forms
like a spinning tiger with legs made of iron bars
that would be pretty epic
infact I think that happened in outer mongolia
to a young girl how got hit by the iron bars
sadly she died
but the type of death was one we all wish for
over exposure to pure epicness
like viewing a snail with a lightsaber who flies over mountains made of cheese
that's bleedin' epic
imagine it if you can
can you?
I imagined it so according to the ontological arguement
it exists
im scared now
it may be coming to get me
and although I will suffer the best kind of death
it will be death still
and what is death without life
it is simply death
that was mock epic
those statements aren't as deep as you think they are
they are meerly the ramblings of a crazy man
you fell for it did you not
I know you did for I can see you
your PC moniter is actually a camera
If you're paranoid then you will be scared now
and for that reason I laugh
I can see your fear
I smell it
it is like raspberry ripple ice cream
your fear is wierd
I don't like you anymore
this poem is bleedin' epic!
poem by Torben Duncan
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Related quotes
Epic Smile
Time slows;
then stops.
You have an epic smile,
shining brightly to challenge the sun.
You laugh with your soul,
eyes sparkling in the light.
You have an epic smile,
one I will never forget.
My heart leaps at your voice,
a smile shattering the gloom of life.
You have an epic smile,
brighter than a thousand suns.
I will think of you often,
though truthfully I already do.
You have an epic smile, my muse,
one that will always be with me.
poem by Brian Hinckley
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With several different kinds of poetry to choose from, a man would decide that he would like best to be an epic poet, and he would set out, in conscious determination, on an epic poem.
quote by Lascelles Abercrombie
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Death of an Unknown Poet
An epic,
written by a brilliant mind
like Van Gogh,
underappreciated.
The poet dies in a squalid flat,
penniless and alone.
His lifes' work-
fantasmic verses of a visionary-
are all stuffed post-humously
into a box.
His genius,
mistaken for useless scribble,
is discarded like so much riff-raff.
It decays, forgotten.
Years pass.
The epic masterpiece alone survives
in that box filled with scraps of faded ink.
A single heart-wrenching poem,
now loved by millions,
by a now-mourned author
who's name evaporated, forgotten by time.
An epic
written by
Anonymous.
(15 minute poem challenge)
poem by Meggan McGuire
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Birds Are Not My Epic
When I’ll write an epic for the animals
Particularly birds with their wings and beaks and claws
They’ll make me sick to think of them in the bathroom
When all the intense images I’ll see are them flying
Over and above my head out from the shower faucet
Those weird throbbing like needles on my skins
Are brandishing my mortality to hate the images
I admit of them my number one phobia
I cannot run a writing race overnight with such of them as characters
They can be epic but they cannot be mine
Say if my rationality is purely an excuse
But I am this mortal who does fear
Birds are birds and I cannot undress them
Who has dreads and who has courage?
Birds are not my epic
poem by Chester Maynes
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I Do Not Want To Die...
war is not epic,
but it can fix problems (in a way) .
war kills many peole,
but is it for the best?
war is very hurtful,
but someone always wins.
war is but nothing except killing and winning...
war is but...
soldiers dying,
war can kill,
but I DO NOT WANT TO DIE,
i want to go home,
i saw brown leaves falling down,
war is the time you need friens the most,
I DO NOT WANT TO DIE...
And now may the blessing of God rest upon all men. I have told unto them the Epic of Kings, and the Epic of Kings is come to a close, and the tale of their deeds is ended.
My Mom’s Epic
My mom is so epic,
My kin doesn’t know what to do,
She handles things her own way,
She is a tree, mighty and strong,
Like an eagle, mess with her babies,
Let’s say you will go down heavy,
She fights her own mêlées,
She cares for others,
By no way is she introverted,
She’s elation to my life,
Cautious and valiant is just the tip of the ice berg to portray her,
She’s interminable,
She’s been with me ever since I could remember,
I will always love her,
For she is MY EPIC MOM!
poem by Qeeony Luv
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Epic Night Elipse O' Light
epic night
with a spark of white
a whimper
then silence
reflections
lost in thought
lost in time
inhuman
back to the start
epic night
new to sin
end in sight
now to begin 7 days in.
poem by Mitch King
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An epic
In an epic
The earth is gray
Matter weeped, sweat filled
The world we know it
The heroes that fight for the rights they break
Is anything safe anymore
Is anything normal
Is everything supposed to blow up
The world burned by the blood it shed
Washed like a cloth in a cycle
What is linear
What is normal
Who should I be
American or a Patriot.
An epic
poem by Brandon Butler
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O Singer of the epic war history
O Singer of the epic war history,
O Singer of life, of liberation hoary,
Of brazen battlefields, long desolate,
O Singer of Gita's ageless glory.
Outlived hast the song thine endless story,
Though war heroes survive still in state,
Frustrated of fate but scarce sorry,
O Singer of the epic war history.
Yudhishthir's dharma, Arjun's archery,
Bheeshma's oath, Bhima's bravery,
Scarce confined remain to Pearly Gate,
And sung are with Gita's ageless glory.
And ye O bard, two roles in one carry:
Of poet laureate and progenitor great,
O ye born in a river ferry,
O Singer of the epic war history
Ye sang thine epic in such swell flurry,
Ganesha, if not quite inadequate,
Lost in thought, felt somewhat weary,
O Singer of ancient ageless glory,
Not mine ‘lone, any pen-pusher's worry
‘Tis to try even to translate,
O Singer of the epic war history,
O Singer of ancient ageless glory.
_______________________________________ __
This is a Villanelle a bit way out. The tercet,
that normally becomes a quatrain only in the last
stanza, is here so in all. Also, the first and the third
lines of the first stanza are repeated with some
modifications.
_____________________________________________ ______
- Villanelle | 02.10.11 |
poem by Aniruddha Pathak
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I Like To Write An Epic
i like to write an epic
about a prince who went away to find
his destiny
who met his enemies
beasts and bad spirits
who slew them all
who found his own kingdom
on top of the tallest mountains
reaching the skies
who rode on a Pegasus
and swept away another Helen
there was this war for a thousand years
and there were betrayals
and losses and gains
and at the end
the tragedy happens
the epic is unfinished
all the while i will finish it
but then my friend
you fall short of time
at the happy ending
when the prince finally comes home
as a king
you are dead.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Depictions May Solicit Unhealthy Images
Controversy and the raising of eyebrows,
Produces the same affect.
From those who prepare to protest,
The reading of an epic.
That depicts within its pages,
A newborn being breast fed.
And the author is neither married.
Or has children.
And the one who has written this epic,
May be a male who describes.
His own upbringing.
Upsetting those who believe,
His depictions may solicit unhealthy images.
To those who are children,
Already experienced at downloading pornography.
On their cellphones.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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The epic poet has behind him a tradition of matter and a tradition of style; and that is what every other poet has behind him too; only, for the epic poet, tradition is rather narrower, rather more strictly compelling.
quote by Lascelles Abercrombie
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Poem.
I do not like the silly poem,
I do not like the angsty poem,
I do not like the ridiculous poem,
I do not like the damned poem,
I do not like the cheesy poem,
I do not like the random poem,
Or the epic poem,
Or the dandy poem,
Or the long poem,
Or the short poem,
Or the stupid poem,
Or the rude poem,
Or the useless poem,
Or the wordless poem,
Or the poem poem,
Or the poem poem's daughter,
Or the word, Poem,
I like the story.
poem by David Carter
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Poem.
I do not like the silly poem,
I do not like the angsty poem,
I do not like the ridiculous poem,
I do not like the damned poem,
I do not like the cheesy poem,
I do not like the random poem,
Or the epic poem,
Or the dandy poem,
Or the long poem,
Or the short poem,
Or the stupid poem,
Or the rude poem,
Or the useless poem,
Or the wordless poem,
Or the poem poem,
Or the poem poem's daughter,
Or the word, Poem,
I like the story.
poem by Aisha Patterson
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Our Only Fate
I have no epic tale to tell, no wisdom to impart,
My life has come full circle and refuses to restart.
There are no flagships coming, no sense to celebrate,
There's no parade or masquerade - just death - our only fate.
poem by Joshua Dinkin
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The Future, Unknown
Within the dread of the moment
I must dought that Shakespeare
Sat up all night, Writing his plays
Knowing they'd be timeless
One man
An epic in writing
By accident
Maybe one day
Once I have long since passed
Someone will come across
The pages I breathed life into
And maybe, out of mere curiosity
They may read my words and find symbolism
That I never meant to include
Maybe, in 300 years
I shall be an epic in the world of poetry
(If one still reads poetry by then)
And maybe I'll become famous as Shakespeare
Or Edgar Allen Poe; maybe I'll be known
For something I never meant to do
Myabe I'll be known for this
poem by Brie Carter
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12th Of Never Goin' Happen
.....Norwalk vigils
.........Spot...new...digs
. ..........Cast my cares to Sherlock
...Love...The...Electric...Line.. .Pigs
...Care...to...take...a...tu mble?
.....'Round...my...prickly..pear...and... thorny...weeds?
............Or..would...you..rather...rum ble?
...About...Homers Epic: ...And..Circes..poisnous...deeds?
..........Send...me...some..ambro sia
......To...find...out.....what.....i.. ..really.....mean
...And..if..you..get..lu cky..................(.Doubful!)
..............I....just........might..... come............................clean!
Sherlocks...a...good...Detective
He... spotted...the...other...pig...in...the...tree!
Dedicated to: The Greek Epic Poems Of Homer
Personally Dedicated to: H.O.W.
poem by Theodora Onken
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A War Between Ravna And Kauravas
Rama fought Ravna and killed him.
The good prevailed over the evil.
Thus spoke Ramayana the Epic.
Pandavas fought Kauravas and killed them.
The justice prevailed over the wrong.
Thus spoke Mahabharata the Epic.
What if Ravna and Gowrava fought?
It is happening in politics now.
04.10.2012
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Crafting Poems
'Yeah, it's a craft that you learn on the job,
don't you think? Like a carpenter learns
the ins and the outs of his trade.
It's not just puking up your guts,
spewing feelings left and right
like some demented jamoke! '
Mick said, holding the magazine
open so that Celia could read
what he was pointing to.
'Oates says here that writing
is a craft, it's not an experience
like an emotion, ' Celia said.
'You know, Mick, some folks
think that you're the author
of these poems that Malone
has been writing using you and me
as characters in an ongoing epic
poem. They identify you the character
with the same name as the author
as one and the same person -
Have you noticed, Mick? '
'That's my thought too, though we are
the very lifeblood of that narrowback's
epic poem in the making, as it were -
like a fancy cabinet handcrafted by
an expert woodworker in his shop!
Neat simile that, eh? ' Mick quipped.
poem by Michael Pruchnicki
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