Forums → Art, Music, and Writing → First Line Poetry

The heater is broken,
And I'm frozen,
Through and through.
The thing won't turn back on.
What am I to do?
It's too cold for the sun to warm me up,
And there aren't any more blankets.
I'll go out and buy me a Snuggie!
Yes, that is what I'll do!
I'll get me a Snuggie.
Maybe even two.
I might even get three,
so I can share.
With you, and me.
Wait, Maybe four!
So I can share with more!
One for IcyIndia,
One for me.
One for the lovely Parsat,
And one for the rest of the Community!
___

I enjoyed that one xD It may be stupid, but I like it!

Pins and Needles

I don't think that the rest of the community will have enough room in a single Snuggie.

Thank you!
______


Pins and needles
cover the floor,
It seems like a forest
But there is a door.

A towering pine
winds up to the sky,
but there is a ceiling
so the tree has to die.

And there is a river,
seeping under the floor
But the room traps the water
And now, there is
more
and more
and more.

And, look! A sky!
but no, it's just paint.

I want to write more,
but it's getting late.
And I'm pretty tired
So I'm going to bed, okay?

___

I speak the truth.


Pages fly through the air

Pages fly through the air
As a single man is dared
Sweat drips, from his noggin
As he tries, to keep his end of the bargain.

His friends, they wait outside
Screaming insults, and many retorts
The man, he cannot stand it anymore
He lights the book aflame, to rest forevermore.

The smell of the city

Grr... I guess not! I'm writing Parsat's line, then I'm leaving.

We will not grow weary
While we slice through the earth.
With our shovels, we bury
Our last thoughts to disperse.
Because they need us here,
We stay very near
They won't let us go
And while we say "No"
They give us that one threat
That keeps us here
That doesn't let us know
What is outside of this bubble.
We are confined
in a place made of rubble
And gets worse for wear
every year
but we still keep working
never becoming tired.

The smell of the city
bombarding me
with the scents of
food, cars, and
other unrecognizable
things

It reminds me of
why I would want
to live in the country
with only nature
and no horrible
smells

filled to the max

Filled to the max.
Nothing seeping through the cracks.
Though the cracks open,
And everything spills out.

The heart has lost its love.

But then something comes,
and the cracks are mended.
Though love has ended,
hate takes its place.
______________________

Everything is gone

Filled to the max,
I begin to glow.
What you've said
Is making me grow.

I feel like a balloon.
I feel like I could fly.
I'm thinking to a tune,
'Cause you enjoy my lines.

I want to write forever,
If you'll say the selfsame things;
You make me feel amazing,
You make me want to sing.
I feel so, well, important now,
So tell me: is that truly what you think?

Bring me some more coffee

Filled to the max
With the lust for the stars,
I search for a way
To join the astral dancers.

Their voices sing in my blood
In sync with my heart's susurration,
With cadence as clear as crystal
And infinitely more brilliant than diamond.

Alas, the time will never come
When I may join those who tread above.
That which lies behind the curtain
Of space shall reamin beyond my ever wanting grasp.

The darkest of nights

Grrr....


The darkest of nights
call loudly out to me
a whisper of rebellion
Can I run away from me?

She's surely who I've always been,
She's plastic, a facade
Can I become who I want to be,
Or am I forced to stay the same?

I'll run out on the streets
and linger in the alleys
I'll breathe in the sweet night air
and be the person of my dreams.

But then I'll have to go back home
I'll crawl right into bed
I'll be my parents' golden girl
With a halo above my head.

Everything is gone.
There are no lives left,
wandering through the streets,
and I am alone.
My mind seeks the rubble
of what was a lively place.

I climb through the buildings,
searching for evidence of my former life.
I find nothing,
because everything is gone.

Bring me some more coffee

Is that considered a double or triple ninja with the filled to the max poems.

Anyway, I'll write a poem with IcyIndia's last line.

Bring me some more coffee
this night must go on
without any sleeping
this story must be done

My deadline's tomorrow
My story half finished
will I complete it
or fail completely

It's morning now
WAIT! IT'S MORNING!!
My story's not finished
what shall I do?

Dried leaves on the ground

Dried leaves on the ground,
make so much sound
when you step on them.

My parents tell me to rake the leaves.
But I say can I not do them, please?
The force me to rake the leaves.

I finally was done
but my work had just begun,
because wind blew the leaves away.

What did I just do?

Dried leaves on the ground,
Crumpled and torn
Before long there is nothing left.
Nothing left to for us to mourn.
Not a shred of evidence,
That it was ever there.
New leaves die to be replaced,
More retire with the cold autumn air.
___

Lifeless shells of what has once been

I think it's a double.
because 1337 posted first, and we were ninja'd by him, so.

Dried leaves on the ground
Crunch, crunch, crunch
I would rather hear a pound
rather than this irritating sound.

I wish it were winter
when the snow swallows all noises
but no, I've got to live through Autumn,
when these colors hurt my eyes.

The trees look so naked now
And the world looks grey
So devoid of color
I wish winter would be over, now!

Let the growing begin
and the mud-tracking commence
I need to get a sense
of using a mop.

Get out your umbrella
It's raining too hard,
and I might just melt
The way this water pelts.

I really need some bugspray
these mosquitoes are attacking me
Go inside, or you'll pay
These insects must really hate me.

This soda is nice and fizzy

Lifeless shells of what has once been,
snails and crabs that once lived.
They grew too big so they looked and looked,
for a new home that would take and took
nothing from them.

So many ninjas

(Literally)