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Does anyone of you write a poems? Goto Page: [] [<] 1 2 3 ... 4 5 6 [>] [»|]

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ffsghyanbh

PostPosted: Mon Jan 28, 2008 9:54 pm
God-Raped-Me
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Ok here's my Nicer comment:
It's an over done topic. Don't write these types of poems. Every teen goes through something like this. If you actually want to make this type of topic intresting to the world write it from someone else's POV. DO SOMETHING DIFFERENT!


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God forbid somebody has a similar feeling to someone else.  
PostPosted: Mon Jan 28, 2008 10:07 pm
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It's not the having similar feelings thing, it's the expressing it in the exact same way as everyone else and thinking that you've come up with something creative and exciting thing. I swear, late elementary school/junior high/high school teachers must get really bored after reading 30 near-identical creative writing assignments in a row.

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Kalstolyn

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PostPosted: Mon Jan 28, 2008 10:22 pm
Kalstolyn
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I don't think it counts as publishing when the only people who buy the books are the people who have poems in them. Poetry.com is what's known as a "vanity" site. They make their money by exploiting people and they get away with it because they keep stroking those egos. I really wish I could get back the money I gave them. That was one of the stupidest periods of my life.

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Oh, so SAD... I had a boyfriend who was SO proud of his Poetry.com accomplishments. I had a hard time not squashing his ego with "yeah, I was in a few of those back in the day, but at least knew enough not to BUY anything from them." He would send me links to his "published" poems and dedicated some to me. It was... awkward.  
PostPosted: Mon Jan 28, 2008 10:33 pm
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... *snerk*

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Jafthasleftthebuilding
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PostPosted: Mon Jan 28, 2008 10:36 pm
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Oh, so SAD... I had a boyfriend who was SO proud of his Poetry.com accomplishments. I had a hard time not squashing his ego with "yeah, I was in a few of those back in the day, but at least knew enough not to BUY anything from them." He would send me links to his "published" poems and dedicated some to me. It was... awkward.

You said you would keep that a secret between us! mad

Just kidding.

<.<  
PostPosted: Tue Jan 29, 2008 5:25 am
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What Kal said.
Plus.
Why write a stupid poem about it when all you have to do is pick up your balls and go and talk to the person! I hate reading this s**t over and over and over. They all think they're unique and good at writing poems, which by the way this had no rhythm to it what so ever, but they're not. It's the same problem, as everyone else has. Everyone goes through this sort of thing, and they either swallow their pride and talk to who ever or they wimp out, like myself. Those who wimp out have no right to b***h and complain... and I didn't.

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PostPosted: Tue Jan 29, 2008 12:59 pm
Jaft
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Oh, so SAD... I had a boyfriend who was SO proud of his Poetry.com accomplishments. I had a hard time not squashing his ego with "yeah, I was in a few of those back in the day, but at least knew enough not to BUY anything from them." He would send me links to his "published" poems and dedicated some to me. It was... awkward.

You said you would keep that a secret between us! mad

Just kidding.

<.<
*snort* rofl  
PostPosted: Tue Jan 29, 2008 1:27 pm
God-Raped-Me
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What Kal said.
Plus.
Why write a stupid poem about it when all you have to do is pick up your balls and go and talk to the person! I hate reading this s**t over and over and over. They all think they're unique and good at writing poems, which by the way this had no rhythm to it what so ever, but they're not. It's the same problem, as everyone else has. Everyone goes through this sort of thing, and they either swallow their pride and talk to who ever or they wimp out, like myself. Those who wimp out have no right to b***h and complain... and I didn't.

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I have no problem with this category of poetry. Or even the style; however, it just seems mundane.

You need to develop more... of yourself in the poem. Learn your own style and what not.

=3

Of course, we were only exposed to one example.  

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PostPosted: Tue Jan 29, 2008 1:37 pm
Okay, here goes. One from me, one of my less girly ones. Hee hee hee!

an insomniac's mocking bed

repugnantly restful
it lies on the floor
of the room named for
that one crucial furnishing
and mocks me in its horizontal way
it appears puffy and gentle like a panda
but i heard they are not always
so sweet either and my bed is the same
soft and comfy but it doesn't make me sleep
so i lay in my bed, trying one side
and then the other
and trying to find the cool side of my pillow
staring at the wall
and it's ridiculously girly wallpaper that i did not pick
and trying to sleep
but willing yourself to sleep is like telling a bed
to stop acting so smug  
PostPosted: Tue Jan 29, 2008 3:32 pm
God-Raped-Me
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What Kal said.
Plus.
Why write a stupid poem about it when all you have to do is pick up your balls and go and talk to the person! I hate reading this s**t over and over and over. They all think they're unique and good at writing poems, which by the way this had no rhythm to it what so ever, but they're not. It's the same problem, as everyone else has. Everyone goes through this sort of thing, and they either swallow their pride and talk to who ever or they wimp out, like myself. Those who wimp out have no right to b***h and complain... and I didn't.

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The whole "I am the example of toughness by which you should model yourself" act is so unoriginal.

Speaking of unoriginal, wasn't that what you were talking about? Cliches? How delightfully ironic/absurd.
 

ffsghyanbh


God-Raped-Me

PostPosted: Tue Jan 29, 2008 3:35 pm
d o c TRANSVESTITE
God-Raped-Me
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What Kal said.
Plus.
Why write a stupid poem about it when all you have to do is pick up your balls and go and talk to the person! I hate reading this s**t over and over and over. They all think they're unique and good at writing poems, which by the way this had no rhythm to it what so ever, but they're not. It's the same problem, as everyone else has. Everyone goes through this sort of thing, and they either swallow their pride and talk to who ever or they wimp out, like myself. Those who wimp out have no right to b***h and complain... and I didn't.

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The whole "I am the example of toughness by which you should model yourself" act is so unoriginal.

Speaking of unoriginal, wasn't that what you were talking about? Cliches? How delightfully ironic/absurd.


I never said I was tough or an example of anything. So... ya.  
PostPosted: Tue Jan 29, 2008 3:37 pm
Poetry guys.

Poetry.

Different genres of poetry. Etc.  

Jafthasleftthebuilding
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ffsghyanbh

PostPosted: Tue Jan 29, 2008 3:41 pm
God-Raped-Me
d o c TRANSVESTITE
God-Raped-Me
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What Kal said.
Plus.
Why write a stupid poem about it when all you have to do is pick up your balls and go and talk to the person! I hate reading this s**t over and over and over. They all think they're unique and good at writing poems, which by the way this had no rhythm to it what so ever, but they're not. It's the same problem, as everyone else has. Everyone goes through this sort of thing, and they either swallow their pride and talk to who ever or they wimp out, like myself. Those who wimp out have no right to b***h and complain... and I didn't.

User Image


The whole "I am the example of toughness by which you should model yourself" act is so unoriginal.

Speaking of unoriginal, wasn't that what you were talking about? Cliches? How delightfully ironic/absurd.


I never said I was tough or an example of anything. So... ya.


"Those who wimp out have no right to b***h and complain... and I didn't."

Yeah, as if that's not you trying to make yourself seem like you're such a good model for the under-confident and the meek, as if everyone should follow your example.

Returning to the subject now, or whatever.

The poem wasn't that bad, it's just the stock poetry of any middle-schooler.
 
PostPosted: Tue Jan 29, 2008 3:43 pm
Ok, here's my favourite poem! Thats saying a lot because I'm not big on poems.

Sea Lullaby

The old moon is tarnished
With smoke of the flood,
The dead leaves are varnished
With colour like blood,

A treacherous smiler
With teeth white as milk,
A savage beguiler
In sheathings of silk,

The sea creeps to pillage,
She leaps on her prey;
A child of the village
Was murdered today.

She came up to meet him
In a smooth golden cloak,
She choked him and beat him
To death, for a joke.

Her bright locks were tangled,
She shouted for joy,
With one hand she strangled
A strong little boy.

Now in silence she lingers
Beside him all night
To wash her long fingers
In silvery light.

By Elinor Wylie

No no, Isel, you misunderstood what I said, or I said it wrong. I was saying that I wimped out too.  

God-Raped-Me


Jafthasleftthebuilding
Vice Captain

PostPosted: Tue Jan 29, 2008 3:57 pm
((That's how I understood it also.))

And that is quite a disturbing poem. :3  
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Creative Crossroads

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