Old bits

[holloway]

Is it really so strange?
Not the full thing. It's pretty old and I only just found a chunk of it

Apparently he buys Buddha who says,
'The old city it lays,
Revenge and anger are sure new to me!'
But such slick words are a shame
For one of his game
When he creates shame
Amongst the creeps
Making them weep
To his tales of love for Wilde
But here's an idea that's quite...wild
Beyond Mr Gray
And the writing of his grave  [A beginning rhyme...I hate them so very much]
His tales locked in a cage
Or written in French for up on a stage

Untitled
I try to stay away from these sorts of poems where possible, but one can't hurt!

Oh as we walk over
puddles and
round droves;
The lights of the traffic
stretch out like elastic;
Black coats for two,
Collar cloth for four;
The twinkling lights
tonight below our height;
Too romantic do I,
paint what is a poor sky?
Possible
Well, probable
But I step
so fancy free
in this inch sea;
And talk of the great
and the mistakes
Nights out in seats
Nights in on the streets
and of the people today on the streets.

 

[holloway]

Oh is it really so, really so strange?
I say no
you say yes
but you will change your mind!

 

[Shadow_Strike]

Noone really has anything to say.
While your poetry has good connotations and a good idea behind them, they lack meter, flow, (even rhymes if you wanna go there), and coherency to be better than they are now.

For example, you rhymed shame, with shame, and thats a shame.

 

[Tohsaka]

Actually, that's a great example of poetry, as it doesn't even have to be coherent to be good poetry. Just like how that Shakespeare nonsense was good poetry.

 

[Shadow_Strike]

Yeah, but then its all down to preference.
And Shakespeare wasn't nonsense... it was just long-winded and it punched you in the teeth. A lot.

I'm not a fan of incoherent writing, some might, but theres always something someone likes. And if you decide to cater to a small spiel of people, expect to get a direct proportion of comments.

For example, I draw fantasy, I ain't getting many replies from colleges.

 

[holloway]

So say goodbye
Wave off the crowds
Don't shed a tear love
They'll still be there when you return
With some luck
No luck
They're unsheathing round the bike sheds
And facing up to your place
Six thousand knives in your back
And they don't remember but 23
Spooks aren't called in
And the benches are brought out

From Cansfield to Wainwright
You've beaten 'em all
And removed their worlds of
Of Dostoevsky's chairs
It's really not fair
Oh it's really really not so fair!

But 6 out of 10
And 4 out of 5
You're in the right
A passer-by in the line-of-fire
And cushioned 3 out of 4
The teachers they arrive
And the kids, well they all cry
The kids, they all cry
The bad acts buried in the grave
And over them paved
A priest to the lonely
And a butcher to the cruel

From Cansfield to Wainwright
You've beaten 'em all
And removed their worlds of
Of Dostoevsky's chairs
It's really not fair
Oh it's really really not so fair!

That ended up a bit too song like for my liking. But, it had some nice little allusions in it so I thought might as well post it to see who can get them. The more I read it, the further it gets from me.