Forums → Art, Music, and Writing → Nicho's Writing Thread [Archives on Pg 47]

You only placed four times?

Erm yeah I entered four times....

Hehe, I really must get my act together and start learning meter. Tbh, I have no clue about it at all.

Yay thanks alt! I was experimenting with a poem with no rhyme, no meter, no constrains...the next one will have rhyme.

I think I write too fast.

Russian Roulette

By the seedy bar the men stand,
They hand me the empty six-gun,
All eyes focus hard on me,
And I gladly take the pistol grip.

Old polished mahogany on my glove,
Bags of gold dust on the tabletop,
None on me, the luckless jinx,
All on my friend, six shots to none.

I load the gun with one to spare,
Five to one my time is up,
The holes are filled with dark emotions,
Of contempt, hatred and disgust.

Bullet number one laced with misery,
Uncounted times of hardened reality.
Bullet number one laced with misery,
Somber moment of alcohol bravery.

One click as it slides in perfectly,
One click as I shorten my life,
One click as I up the damn stakes,
One click as I bet on my soul.

Bullet number two scents of disgrace,
All the actions that scarred my face.
Bullet number two scents of disgrace,
Irksome taste of an unending race.

One click as it slides in perfectly,
One click as I shorten my life,
One click as I up the damn stakes,
One click as I bet on my soul.

Bullet number three spells broken dreams,
Many a night I tear hopelessly at seams.
Bullet number three spells broken dreams,
Just fishing in a bone-dry stream.

One click as it slides in perfectly,
One click as I shorten my life,
One click as I up the damn stakes,
One click as I bet on my soul.

Bullet number four recalls fantasies,
Evenings of woven pleasantries.
Bullet number four recalls fantasies,
Forgotten memories of young frivolities.

One click as it slides in perfectly,
One click as I shorten my life,
One click as I up the damn stakes,
One click as I bet on my soul.

Bullet number five speaks of self-hate,
All the heinous crimes I have partake.
Bullet number five speaks of self-hate,
But it was all written by the hand of fate.

One click as it slides in perfectly,
One click as I shorten my life,
One click as I up the damn stakes,
One click as I bet on my soul.

Bullet number six melts my heart,
It whispers of unrequited love,
Bullet number six heralds a tear,
It whispers of bitter-sweet passion.

One thud as I let it fall to earth,
One echo as the sound engulfs,
One cry as my I crush it underfoot,
One silence as gunpowder reeks.

All is ready now, my friend's waiting,
All is ready now, I spin the barrel,
All is ready now, I finger the trigger,
All is ready now, I don't want a way out.

Russian roulette my special way,
Its not a gamble; it's a death wish,
It's my own way to say goodbye,
Staring the bore till the end.

The strangers cheer as I pull,
They shout as they win the dough,
They clap for it was a good show,
And they laugh for the poor fool's dead.

Well, umm, intersting poem. Russian Roulette, horrible game.

I'll say, it had some rhyme here and there, but wasn't placed very well.

It was all perfectly rhyming until this,

Bullet number six melts my heart,
It whispers of unrequited love,
Bullet number six heralds a tear,
It whispers of bitter-sweet passion.

I wanted a sense of...irregularity. I didn't load the sixth bullet. As in...abrupt change. Pow wow.

Ya pretty good! and long!

Rather weird...but I don't seem to have any inspiration left these days. So perhaps no work in this period of time. Or perhaps yes. Inspiration for me...pops up from the unexpected, at unexpected times.

I don't know what compelled me to write this, in such a manner. Turned out quite...I don't know, weird.

Loss

I watch as I step in the ward,
White sheets and warm sunshine rays,
I watch silently and so does God,
The vicar tears but I do not pray.

I watch as the blind man stumbles,
His actions slow and calculated,
His hands grips the stick as he fumbles,
But his happiness is present, not degraded.

I watch as the mute stares at all,
His lips pursed, hands always moving,
His mouth puckers, his teeth fall,
But his joy is present, always rising.

I watch as the deaf man cups his ears,
His world devoid of music and sound,
His thoughts are clouded by the long silent years,
But his laughter is present, they abound.

I watch as the handicapped sits motionless,
His legs cut his arms all mangled,
His stumps covered in bandages, all useless,
But his smile is present, the grin twisted.

I watch in the mirror at a stranger,
His black eyes stony and dead,
His windows to the soul are dark tunnels,
His eyes stare back at a slumping figure.

I watch as the doctor shrinks in fear,
I speak, but it's the voice of a machine,
I speak, but it's the voice of a statue,
I speak, but it's the voice of a mere shell.

I watch the people in the dulling room,
Innocence is meant for the purest,
The ones who never faced the world,
The ones who never faced plain reality.

I watch the people in the greying room,
Their disabilities are physical and tangible,
God must have abandoned me,
For I have my senses but no emotions.

I watch the people in the blackening room,
No pity for I wasted all on myself,
No sadness for I have banished it,
No pain for I feel nothing in my heart.

I watch the people in the fading room,
I'd give my eyes to feel some hope,
I'd give my ears to sense some regret,
I'd give my voice to regain my lost feelings.

I watch as I realize the futility,
I watch as I feel absolutely nothing,
I watch as I recount those memories,
I watch as I realize my impalpable loss.

I watch the rusty wall clock crawl,
I watch as I know time canât be reversed,
I watch as those scenes came flooding back,
I watch as my mind spirals out of control.

Would it be so hard to shed a tear?
Would it be so hard to pull a grin?
Would it be so hard to show some apathy?
Would it be so hard to redden in complexion?

That fateful night sapped my strength,
That fateful night destroyed my will,
That fateful night turned my heart to granite,
That fateful night spelled out my final change.

And I just want to forget it all,
I sit in the middle of a spectrum,
But still I feel nothing,
And I accept that loss without a hint of emotion.

Bravo! Bravo! *claps*

Well I liked in anywho...

Anywho?

Hmmm? *puzzled*

Anyhow, anywho...

10char

Mav...I'm still confused...

Darn...I missed last week's poetry contest deadline...never mind, I'll post my piece here sooner or later.

Alright, another poem. This one was originally intended for last week's poetry theme of Affection, but I never got around to submitting it. Also, was my gift to Jess for her birthday.

This is What I'll Always Do I Promise

You toss me cruelly into the corner,
Feeling like an abandoned childhood toy,
I sit the knees under my chin,
But I'll be here all the while, forlorn and torn.

I'll be watching from this little abode,
Ready to catch you whenever you fall,
Retreating back into the shadows,
Here one moment, gone the next.

My heart doesn't blanch at iron swords,
It's a stone wall; the bullets just ricochet off,
But those double words blew it to smithereens,
And I'm left to salvage the far flung pieces.

But I just let it settle to blowing dust,
For 'âm not hindered by obstructions,
It's not worth remembering and grudging against,
For something so small doesn't matter after awhile.

I used to wish youâre a stranger I can disengage,
But I find disregardâs not an Angels virtue,
No, I won't ever ever breakaway from this,
It's part of me now; it's not just a moment of hi and bye.

I'm over my head, over my head,
And now it's not a hidden secret no longer,
They tell me I've lost my mind to stay,
And perhaps I'm not my own master.

I'll always be here no matter what,
I'm not one to cry over the sordid past,
For with the past I'm done and over with,
I look straight North to the shining Arctic Aurora.

You can say anything you want to me,
For momentary anger is the best I can muster,
I'll gladly be your punching bag if it brings you happiness,
And I'll stay up with you all night if I can make life better.

God must have been drunk on vodka that day,
That day I first met with you,
I feel happy to know you, bless you,
Though I feel sad that I don't deserve this honour.

My presence always floats and hovers by,
I'll be here to hear all your woes and troubles,
For the sad do not deserve to feel the same throughout,
For that's what I'll always do I promise you.

Walking a tight rope of taunt feelings,
Lay down a list of what is wrong in your world,
And I'll do my best to help to the maximum,
For that's what I'll always do I promise.

I'm not the nicest person in the world,
Day in day out I do the best that I can,
Shoring up all my flaws with honey and sugar,
For that's what I'll always do I promise.

The things I forgo, the things I do just to talk to you,
I do so without a hesitant regret,
For I would trade gold dust for the Star of Africa,
For that's what I'll always do I promise.

When the burdens feel too heavy,
You can let go, I'll help you carry them,
For after all I do care and worry all the time,
For that's what I'll always do I promise.

At times I wonder if it's all worth trying,
For sometimes it seems to all be futile,
Yet I try again, for time and time again,
For that's what I'll always do I promise.

My words and actions fail to make an impression,
The beginning of the end or the end of the beginning,
But no, I don't turn around and just give up on you,
For that's what I'll always do I promise.

Every single night you cry yourself to sleep,
And it would be so much easier for me to ignore you,
But no, I simply wont leave you in such a state,
For that's what I'll always do I promise.

Every single night you cry bitterly about it,
And a thousand miles away seven hours away,
Someone else does care and cry,
For that's what I'll always do I promise.

For that's what I'll always do I promise,
For that's what I intend to do,
For that's because I want to,
For it's because i'ts for you.


Alright, wasn't exactly a graet poem. And feel free to poke fun.