No announcement yet.

The Official Infinite-Story Poetry Thread!

  • Filter
  • Time
  • Show
Clear All
new posts

  • The Official Infinite-Story Poetry Thread!

    High-time we had one. Let me start things off with...

    Old Wooden Swing

    A whoop and a cry of delight
    Forward and backward she swayed
    Perched upon that wooden swing
    Revelling in the beating wind
    Revelling in that sensation
    Of flying high among
    Cooing doves and cawing ravens
    Her laughter rang out like
    The eternal song of Joy
    Echoing across the sunkissed vale
    Ancient Banyan tree
    Old as time and wise
    Woody limbs spread wide
    Holding the valley in temperate shadow
    Swaying around a gnarled old branch
    The creaking wooden swing
    Up it went and paused
    To come crashing down again
    Up and down it goes
    Like the dance of Life itself

    Last edited by thoric; 01-12-2008, 09:27 PM. Reason: Typo gremlins
    Devils are the bagel's favourite breakfast food!

  • #2
    Sonnet Pi

    A sonnet, I feel, is very stupid.
    Most have no title but a number.

    They speak of love, and of fair cupid,
    But I wonder if it is not a waste of lumber.

    The author is forced within certain rules,
    From which they must never stray.

    And so, they trod on, like weary mules,
    Much too weak to utter a bray.

    Would you smear a canvas in paint,
    And make an artist paint around the line?

    It gives the whole thing a horrid taint,
    Which will wear away at the shine.

    Yet, as I go through all of this pain,
    I cannot help but feel a certain gain.
    Originally posted by Ryan_DuBois
    Usoki, you're the crankiest asshole we know. Not that it's a bad thing, it just means that you smell funny and are best left hidden in darkness.
    And it's embarrassing when you make any noise at all.


    • #3
      Thoric, I really like your style, man. You have a way with words that draws the reader in.

      The 2nd half of the poem especially. I just can't believe it. Beautiful. You are a word smith, my friend. I would really encourage you to keep it up.

      I like trees.
      Last edited by ChubbyTeletubby; 01-13-2008, 08:13 AM.


      • #4
        To appease your dendrophilia, Chubby, here is a link Thoric sent me earlier. And the number of the day is...trees!
        Last edited by Vesnic; 10-05-2011, 05:25 PM.
        My sanity, my soul, or my life.


        • #5
          Actually, thanks for the link, Ves.

          When I look at Earth and life I put humans on the bottom of the list - and I mean very bottom - and trees on the top.

          That being said, I still hate hippies.

          But Thoric meant this thread to contain poetry. Sorry, dude. You know how it is around here.

          Again, thanks for the link, Ves.
          Last edited by ChubbyTeletubby; 01-13-2008, 08:13 AM.


          • #6
            Thanks for the compliment Chubby.

            I have a softspot for trees too, especially the banyan tree which often figures in my writing. I just find it fascinating. The reasons, I am unable to put to words.
            Devils are the bagel's favourite breakfast food!


            • #7
              The earth shakes as the wardrums beat
              Steely boots truding along
              Crushing in tandem, flower and leaf
              And it echoes, that warsong
              Looted and plundered, this army has
              Villages razed to the ground
              I too have raped and killed
              And I regret it not at all
              For that is the way of the soldier
              That is the price we must pay
              The conscience - A figment of our imagination
              That is the warrior's way

              A poem about a soldier trying to justify his excesses. I still don't have a name for it.
              Devils are the bagel's favourite breakfast food!


              • #8
                I liked that one.
                Writing: It's more fun than a barrel of Ebola ridden monkeys!


                • #9
                  A fifth of Leblanc

                  Darkness. This is all I see when I look around. Why are all things dark?
                  My mind is no more than a seething, bubbling cauldron of thoughts, most to elusive to ever grasp.

                  All my life I've been lonley, never finding another person I could talk to, who would understand the evil demon known as Aspergers. So in their great and infinate wisdom, the Gods of my mind crafted me a friend. It's name was Shippo and I finaly had a companion.

                  Years have passed and still I can find no solace in humanity, all there is are my ego, alter ego's and you.....

                  -dedicated to the nice people at infinate story who let me type what I feel-
                  OH FUDGE!


                  • #10
                    *snaps fingers* That was very moving, Leblanc. Thank you!

                    And, uh, you're welcome!

                    Viva Shippo! (and all the others) But especially you!
                    Last edited by Vesnic; 10-05-2011, 05:26 PM.
                    My sanity, my soul, or my life.


                    • #11
                      *raises his glass of vodka*



                      • #12
                        Shippo's poem

                        Simple simon met a pieman going to the fair.
                        Said simple simon to the pieman "Can I have an icecream please."

                        A Haiku by Psy

                        Take me, Germany!
                        I want to drink good strong beer
                        and wear funny pants.
                        Last edited by Leblanc4prez; 01-18-2008, 07:39 PM. Reason: Psy wanted his Haiku added
                        OH FUDGE!


                        • #13
                          Death eternal
                          Life short waste
                          Death so sweet the bitter taste
                          Life the only curse until
                          Death the only wish fulfilled

                          Death the lover
                          Grave the bed
                          Death the only bride I wed
                          Lay me down my soul to keep
                          Death my lover in the deep

                          Grim the harvest
                          Grim the end
                          Grim the reaperís scything rend
                          Grim the thoughts that living tend
                          Grim the hopeless tide I fend

                          Words so fruitless the endeavor
                          Words of truth my mind to weather
                          Life the only truth alluding
                          Death the truth of life intruding


                          • #14
                            Cooties really do exist
                            I got some from your mom
                            I woke up and I found some bumps
                            Where bumps do not belong
                            The organ is grinding but the monkey won't dance.


                            • #15
                              I don't want to hear it, dude. I WARNED you. Poetic justice is what I call it.


                              Do Not Sell My Personal Information