Poems

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Oh, wouldn't it be super
To own a computer
that let you do all sorts of things
Like e-mail to mars
Go racing in cars
And flying around without wings
But for this you will need
A processing speed that computes in a moment of time,
And then you will find
And I hope you din't mind
That it's all out of date
what a crime,

 

Spelling, Dinotiggy?

Oh!
I can't read and I can't write
But that don't really matter
For I am a country lass
and I can drive a tractor!

 

All right I admit, my spelling is ultra cra**y

 

Hehehe Got you!

Oh dear what can the matter be
all the teachers locked in the lavatory
they don't care for of course you see
they are all full of c*ap

 

Something is awakening
Inside of me
Its burning and its hurting
Casuing me agony

Guess i don't like that kid much
Always trying it on with my girl
Gives me such a headrush
The f*cker doesn't know his peril

Taken from 'Something is awakening' written by Sniper

 

My Mothers' favourite poem:

Rain, Rain... Piss off

 

For some reason there's this kid that keeps on singing

"I like to eat children
Because they taste nice"

 

Mary had a little lamb
She also had a duck
She put them on her mantlepiece
And gave them *ahem* I think I'll stop there

I woz 'ere
'ere I woz
Woz I 'ere?
Yes I woz!

 

Roses are red
violets are blue
corpses are dead
and so are you....

 

There once was a lady from totenham
Who had no manners or forgotten 'em
One day at the vicars
She took off her knickers
And said that she had got hot in 'em

 

Mary had a little lamb
She tied it to pylon
400volts went up its bum
and turned its wool to nylon

hehe

 

A mind un-eased
Is a mind in jeopardy
Knowledge burnt
Amnesia erased
Crystal clear mountains
Of stone solid sky
Deathly pale
Yet brimming with life
Newborn cry
Obliterated to silence

Does that poem make sense?

Life can be such a Strain

A friend died
But I didn’t cry
Another broke up
I couldn’t shut up
I am so tired
Nothing has cleared
I need a break
For my own sake

I’m sitting alone
I’m in solitude
Weary to the bone
I’ve lost my mood
I wanna get out
Give out a shout
The room is empty
I don’t need your pity

Life is something rare
Yet people don’t care
A gift that is precious
Yet is precarious
Easily lost
Easily gained
At any real cost
We go through pain

People pray
To the beings in heaven
Yet we lay
Awaiting damnation
It is time to leave
It is time to forget
Another conceived
Someone else will fret

What about this one?

 

jack and jill went up the hill,
to fetch a pail of water.
jack fell down and died,
and jill was charged with murder.



[This message has been edited by nior (edited June 17, 2002).]

 

He we are in the hall
Planning our evil teachers fall
we'll kick the git up the arse
next time he takes us for class

 

Roses are red
Violets are blue
You are my nemesis,
and i hate you.

This was adapted from a poem my sister sent me on my birthday.

Roses are red
violets are blue
You are my sister
and I hate you.

She really can be a pain sometimes.

 

roses are red,
violets are blue;
duh...
why'd they call it violets?

 

Loneliness is Red

Drowning sorrows in blood
Blood with which i draw
Little hearts everywhere
You swallow it down
And pain goes away
One, Two, Three, Twenty
Count away the time
Minutes are hours here
Where music plays repeatedly
Going through my little box
Shaprness and other treasures
My pain drips over
And i smile
It goes away again, I take it back
And i know that i'm just drowning.

Like that?

 

Is this one ok? it's a serious poem by myself. written two days ago.


Wound

The wounds of those
who bear no scar
are those wounds of the soul
they live with them under the skin
the pain of their existence
is not that of a living nightmare
but of a long death of un-denied end
their death is long and already gone
now they walk and talk
their pain is in the world around us
but no-one turns to them to help
only the wounds we see can be healed

The wounds of those
that can't be seen
are not seen
when I’m down
when I’m high
and I’m all around
but those wounds don't heal
the deepness of a feather
cuts my soul in two


And when I’m down
I can't give no more
lay me down to die
beneath the dying sky
I can't take it no more
the wounds don't heal
though they are long past

but I’m down
and I won't get up again
leave me be
let me go
turn away
I’ll stay
For my epitaph

Killed by the wounds that can't be seen
Thinner than a feather
Deeper than a valley
No rest for this soul
Of tormented pain


please excuse the bad spelling and grammar

 

A riddle with a nearby answer:

Seventeen, I count
Infants in a bowl
There they lay a-choking
a-choking on their soul

Seventeen, I count
colors and souls
a-dotting the bottoms
the bottoms of bowls

Seventeen, I count
eyeballs above
all these a-gathering
a-gathering their love

Eighteen now I count
one of them sighs
a-laughing and weeping,
a-laughing for the eyes

Eighteen, I count
beans in a pie
a-floating around -
where, where am I?