Forums → Art, Music, and Writing → Periodic Poetry Contest - Theme: Touch of Truth (Page 390, due Jan. 28)

Well that's nice to know, I'll certainly attempt to do some poems... though I haven't written anything beyond a haiku since the 8th grade...

The cold permeates,
Penetrates;
Frustrates;
Irritates;
All day and all night.
Yet I am warm.

The cold freezes,
Displeases;
Cause Sneazes;
And wheezes;
My toes are numb.
Yet I am warm.

The cold gnaws,
claws;
bores;
wars;
At the hearts of all.
Yet I am warm.

But your arms condole,
my whole;
my soul;
with no cajole;
And that is why right now,
I am warm.

Okay here is my entry.

Drastic Change

It is hot outside
But I am frozen.
There is nothing left
to keep me goin.

I am still walking around
And I still seem the same
But on the inside
There isn't a single flame.


I don't make a sound
Cause my heart doesn't beat.
I'm just waiting for someone
To help make me complete.

It's freezing in here
As cold as ice.
I'm waiting for my heart to melt.
But it won't,
Cause I won't make the same mistake twice.

You taught me
That even if something is great,
It will leave just like you did.
Cause it is my fate.

It was great until you went.
You just left me there alone
I will never forget what you did.
So now, I am fine on my own.

I don't need to feel like that again.
It couldn't possibly be good for any condition.
All the times that my heart skipped a few beats.
Boy, you played me like a pro musician.

So I don't need
A warm heart anymore.
Cause dealing with people
Became such a chore.

I will embrace the cold.
With open arms.
As you once did for me,
With all of your supposed 'love' and charms.

Yet there is still some hope left inside of me
That maybe one day,
Someone will come along,
And my world might not be so grey.

____________________

This is just a little poem about heartbreak and hope. Hope you guyses like it

Hmm...Moonfairy, your poem is like the opposite to mine from the previous page...

Mine is about how outside may be cold, but I am warm in my loves arms...yours is about lack of love...

How cute...

fever

Deluge of sweat and delusion,
The burning, the furnace,
My hunger only fuels confusion.
Why god, what is this purpose?

My body burns, but not in passion.
My eyes roll back, but not in pleasure.
Im am purging in the most ugly fashion.
Painkillers are my only treasure.

I am delirious with high fever,
My skin so hot it blisters
The ice is supposed to be my lever,
yet it disappears so quick like twisters.

Who would know that it could be so hot
On a december morn.
Maybe god would give me another shot,
Instead of leaving me forlorn.

-d to tha x

@Kingryan, XDDDDDD I didn't notice lolz. Talk about Irony. And why is it cute? O.o

@DDX, i friggin love your signature.

@moonfairy

I swear... your name reminds me of some kind of drug lol. anyway you write some good stuff.

uuuuuuuuuuuuhhh.........
im really lost
i just got an account :/

Cold
Nor hot, nor tepid
Only some can feel it

The way it's supposed to be felt,
Only by winter it can be dealt...

And out of the few that feel it,
even fewer may hear it

The screaming voice of cold
tells things, never told

Cold,
It is a thing too pure
something too hard to endure

If you accept
If not, Percept

Receive the prize
of eternal demise...

~

A drug?! and thanks.
@Scrabble, i will drop a comment on your profile. I have no clue why you posted on here saying you were lost... you stubled into the poetry section?
And lazy, I really like it. it is kind of depressing though

Hehe thanks.
I just wrote down what i thought, and then i looked for rhyming synonyms, if it wasn't rhyming already.

A drug?! and thanks.

Temperature is hard man. This'll probably be my fifth attempt.

Humidity is quite dreadful,
I swear I can't take another day of this,
If only the heat would go away,
And I should turn to ice.

It must be better than this deadly jungle,
I swear it must be or I'm crazy,
The Arctic tundra would be more fun,
Than this Amazonian hellhole.

But what if the cold is painful?
How could I know, not ever felt it?
Either way I'll go insane,
It'll drive me to my death.

From Southern California to Florida,
I could swear it's all hellish.
A cool breeze may refresh me,
Only to greet another onslaught.

Where could be better?
The cold must not be good,
But if it's not hot is it cold?
Or something else?

There must be an eternal compromise,
That doesn't make me want to die,
Somewhere that isn't hot or cold,
Somewhere that's better.

I give up. Screw rhythm and rhyme. I'll go with whatever you call this. Prose I think?

The Eternal Question

Lord, bless my spirit and my soul,
When heaven's ticket I have got,
I'll ask that question I don't know:
Is hell cold, or is it hot?

Some say that hell is made of fire
While others say it's like ice.
From SoCal summers, it's in the wire
That punishment is served with fire.
But stay in some white guy's house, pray tell,
Will teach you ice
Is cold as hell
And would suffice.

Now then, entries are closed, and judging is hopefully this weekend!