Esque's Poetry

-Critique is good. Insults are bad. Find the line in between before you insult.-
~If you copy these I will eat your soul with a spork and sell you to the devil.~

So, most of it is depressing, but about half of my depressing poems are upbeat. And all of my cheerful poems are reeeeaaally depressing. I'll just post a few examples and get on with it.

Phoenix
Watch me soar,
watch me fly,
make me crash and burn
so I'll die.
Then what will
you have learned?
Nothing but
how to make a phoenix rise.

Didn't you know
nothing stays dead
when you kill it
like mad men.
Don't forget
the lessons you learned
when your mama sat
on the end of your bed.
Didn't she tell you
in your dreams
how to make your phoenix rise.

Little children
play with blocks.
Build tiny towers
to knock them down.
They build nothing
they can't destroy
because they all know
how to make a dreaded phoenix rise.

Entrepreneurs
walk city streets.
Door-to-door salesmen
forget to knock.
To them the people
can't say "no."
They've forgotten
how to let their phoenix rise.


Okay, so most of my collection isn't that long. In fact, a more average lenght for me is 5-6 lines, not counting the epics, more recently, though most of the ones I post will be longer (I think). But I like this one a lot. Look what happens when people like me sing in the shower. (It's a long story.)


Flight
Lift
Off the ground
Just barely
I was worried
But we made it
I survived.
A slight draft
We’re rising up.
Anticipation flees,
Dread takes its place
But it’s unnecessary.
I cast my fear aside.

I run
Across an open field
My wings
Spread as far as I care to see

I jump
And don’t come down.
Suspense
Dread fills me up
But then
I rise.

I am filled with
Indescribable power.

My hair
Is wild
Whipping all around

Exhilaration
Fills my soul

A current comes
But I am strong
A pillar in the air.

I am
Flying
And if I can
I will only return to earth
For my friends
So they can fly.

Flying
Soaring
Adrenaline
Flying



Yes, my line endings are very funny. Let's have a poem about it.

A Poem
The last thing
ever written
will rhyme
just because
poems
live forever
even after
storytellers
die
for poems
are sheltered
from the rain
by every
passing soul
who sees
the words
on a white page
changing the world
with a rhyme.


Not exactly what I was thinking of, but it'll do.


Welcome to High School
Can’t sleep, don’t eat.
(you can’t afford to look fat)
Just school, no life.
(get your homework done by midnight)
Best friends just work.
(All day and all night)
You’re tired, and mad.
(but nobody cares)
Such a warm welcome
to high school.

If you take it literally, an anvil will be dropped on your head.

Nice poetry! I love the rhythms and the symbolism. I think more figurative language would make them even better. My favorite is probably the first one, the first stanza in particular.

These are nice, the pacing is unusual but very nice. I like the second one especially.

I run
Across and open field
My wings

Click to expand...

Doth my eyes percieveth a typographical error?

Blastoise said:

These are nice, the pacing is unusual but very nice. I like the second one especially.
Doth my eyes percieveth a typographical error?

Click to expand...

Indeed they do. I'll go fix it.

Thanks both of you.

And, hey, I wrote more!

Selection

Initiate a movement to imitate perfection.
Copy cat, look at that, isn't it great?
Don't you think conformity is the best?
Lets you be just like all the rest.
When we're all the same we can conform the world.
A place where clones are all of reality.
All that we need, all we could want
is the perfect model.
They'll have to have it all, and all together.


This one was fun.
Perfect Ion

I feel like
I'm learning
That even though
nothing I say has
any meaning they
want me to
keep talking,
reveal all of my
secrets, tell them
everything about
me while they only
listen to what I can
be convicted with.
I used to trust them
all with everything.
With my life, with
their lives, even though
now all they want is
to know every dark
thought that ever
crossed my mind.
What am I, an
e x p e e e e e e e


Malfunction.


System Crashed.


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.
What am I, an
e x p e r i m e n t?

They tell me to keep
talking. I hear every
word they don't want
me to hear because
if I know that they have
problems too then
I will stop thinking that
my life is short of their
p e r f e c t I o n.
Who here is thinking wrong?