General

Metapoetry anyone?

I present to you my: Poem That Discredits The Importance Of My Identity While Convincing You Of Your Tangible Place In This World

Hello, I suppose I should start by introducing myself. You'd like that, wouldn't you? How uncomfortable would you feel if you could not attribute an identity to the author of the poem you are reading right now? That's right, this is a poem. Well, now that the genre of this particular piece of writing has been established, there's no need for me to tell you who I am. This is because regardless of how you look at things, there is no questioning the fact that you are indeed reading my poem. Each letter that I am currently typing is slowly being devoured, one by one, by your hungry eyes. I hope your eyes aren't too hungry though, because there's no doubt in my mind, and hopefully yours too, that this poem will eventually end. I will run out of ideas and with that will be forced to make some sort of closing remark, prompting the grand finale. But I will finish this poem before you since I am the one writing it, and there is no way that you can match the speed of my thoughts. See how far you've gotten and you still know nothing of who I am? You should pat yourself on the back, because hopefully you now realize that my identity is inconsequential. There are several reasons for this, the main one being that this poem is about you. As much as I would love to write about myself, I'm afraid that would probably bore you. I wonder how you are reading this; do you read with your hands on your lap? Or maybe you just slide your finger or perhaps a pen or pencil across the sheet to make sure you don't lose your spot. Is this even on a sheet? Is it being read to you? Is it in a book? Are you reading it on a computer screen? Maybe you're just scanning this with your eyes, just like any other ordinary person would. Nevertheless, I should thank you for taking the time to read my poem. That is of course, if you've read up to this point. If you have, know that I firmly believe you are definitely a real living thing. I don't think anything besides a real living thing could have read this. That being said, I think you're wonderful. Stay splendid.

Here's a poem I wrote about the time I had an accident on the crew/rowing team:

(5:45 A.M.)
They push off the dock using wooden sporks. The river flows like sewage in a septic tank. The oars scoop the water as if it were oatmeal. Splish splosh splash, the sludge slowly stops the speeding ship. Starboards raise their handles, ports slam them down. The boat tips to the west, they sure hope they won't drown. The smell of rotten eggs rushes into nostrils. Lifejackets are never where they're needed. Shouting into the distance, voices like laughter in a cave.

Another quickie my teacher liked:
(Instructions on How to Listen)
Start by opening your eyes and scanning for any object that is animated. Examine this object's motion, and monitor closely any sound it may make. Wiggle your ears to hone in on the smallest decibel, look for the scratching noise it may make as it slides across the floor, or the way it may ruffle as its edges flap in the breeze. But don't congratulate yourself just yet. All you've done is train your ears to listen to sounds that are accessible to anyone.
This time, close your eyes. Hear what surrounds you from the inside; you do not need to see what you hear. Hear the blood slide through your arteries and return via veins. When a guitarist begins to play, listen not only to the sensual sounds but to the fast fingers of the player. Understand that one beat requires another to create a rhythm. Then, when you lie down for the night, you will hear the invisible musician drumming on the anvil amidst the buzz brought forth by silence.

Hope you like at least one of them

bwehh I'll try one even though I haven't written one in English yet (not my native

language ; __ ; )

-don't know what to call it-

Savior?

A dark veil on my face
has fallen and blurred my sight
The suns are shining in full grace
yet, at day, for me it's night

A road, a path, my feet are heavy
I struggle, I try
but can't keep my pace steady

The figures, the shadows that were by my side
had turned into winds and spread out wide

A glance at the sky, it won't hear my plea.
Another step - then what I see
A deadend, is it? Or so it seems
What do I care? I have my dreams.

At times "I must be water", is what I thought
But here I am, like ice, frozen on the spot
I stare into the abyss, lost and distraught
it's okay like this, is it not?

Then what I descry, a few steps away
a little sprout, turns black into grey
I tense, I watch, the colors, the shapes..
they flow into me, the shell slowly breaks

The bud seems lost, its head moves around
It's searching for light? That's not to be found..
Suddenly, though, it turns right to me
the blossom then sets something free..

A little sun, it's shining bright
the light hits me with it's full might
I'm scared, I'm happy, the feelings pile
a shake, a quake, and after a while..
he looks at me with a bewitching smile.

So yeah.. not a native English speaker and I cheated some (looking up words that rhyme etc etc.. also the meanings of some words might be differently than I made them out to be. I sowwies.)
showing it to a friend atm to laugh at it with me xD eep.. I also don't really like keeping one rhyme-style. Screw that. lol.. ; __ ; *sob*

I'd like to read the legit poetry ^^

Yeah I don't really want to see the "roses are red" ones xD

[quote=BloodmetalX]you love those ellipses[/quote]

I know I do, I pointed it out at the beginning of the thread :c I don't really use them much anymore so I believe I've improved so ^^

'Under Moonlights Gaze'

Down below under a moonlights gaze..
There's an angel falling,
from heaven's way.

People watching on up at the sky..
As a star that's shooting,
it's waying goodbye.

She starts to cry below the moon..
When water starts raining,
seeds below bloom.

A girl far away looks out her window..
Seeing the star she's wishing on,
on her pillow.

When under the moon the angel flies..
Here she is rising,
once more to the sky.

The rain, it is falling,
My friends, at home are Brawling,
Tis a sad life,
Why yes, it is.

True, you have a point there xD

Buuut I think we have to note the "roses are red"-abusers don't count D:!

You count in it's fine don't worry. Everyone has different views and ways of explaining so it's unique and yeah

Mmm I'm not possibly a poet, I used to love reading them though (wrote some occassionally I guess but that stopped several years ago)
I don't know if you can quite count me in I'm cheesy and might have weird views that could be "poetic"?
And I tend to explain people things in a weird way, too.. (again, it's cheesy.. lol.)

My ex wrote me a poem or two, I liked that a lot so glad to see someone else out there ^-^