poetry contest
- Thread starter aarone
- Start date
reef_magic
Member
Here is my favortie that i wrote in 7th grade, it got published in a poetry book:
What is the name of a fantasy land,
Where leprechauns conduct a magical band?
Where dragons zoom like lightning bolts,
Across the darkened sky?
Where across the land the unicorn jolts,
And flower fairies fly.
A place where the sun is a huge lemon drop,
And bubble gum rain falls pop, pop, pop.
There is no doubt about it, this world is not hidden,
So open up a story book, and enter the world of fiction.
What is the name of a fantasy land,
Where leprechauns conduct a magical band?
Where dragons zoom like lightning bolts,
Across the darkened sky?
Where across the land the unicorn jolts,
And flower fairies fly.
A place where the sun is a huge lemon drop,
And bubble gum rain falls pop, pop, pop.
There is no doubt about it, this world is not hidden,
So open up a story book, and enter the world of fiction.
reef_magic
Member
here's one the parents of Aubrie wrote (my friend who was killed in that car crash)
We woke up this morning
We woke up this morning wanting to see her again.
Then found ourselves wondering why it is true
that only from memories found deep in our hearts
can Aubrie, our beautiful daughter
be part of our day.
Aubrie our daughter won?t be waking today.
Her family and friends question why it is true
that only from memories found deep in their hearts
can Aubrie, our beautiful daughter
be part of their day.
As the world all around us is waking once more.
Aubrie?s family and friends know why it is true
that her love is with us and found in our hearts
by all who have known her wherever they are
Aubrie, our beautiful daughter
is with us today and forever.
We woke up this morning
We woke up this morning wanting to see her again.
Then found ourselves wondering why it is true
that only from memories found deep in our hearts
can Aubrie, our beautiful daughter
be part of our day.
Aubrie our daughter won?t be waking today.
Her family and friends question why it is true
that only from memories found deep in their hearts
can Aubrie, our beautiful daughter
be part of their day.
As the world all around us is waking once more.
Aubrie?s family and friends know why it is true
that her love is with us and found in our hearts
by all who have known her wherever they are
Aubrie, our beautiful daughter
is with us today and forever.
sammystingray
Active Member
Being a tattooed freak, it's hard to tell, but I have actually had two poems published in books.
Both were love poems for ex-girlfriends that I sent to publishers.
Both were love poems for ex-girlfriends that I sent to publishers.
belothsurf
Member
....uh hmmm.....
Roses are red..
Violets are blue...
I'm a schizophrenic..
...and so am I.....
...:notsure: ...........:jumping: ......
Roses are red..
Violets are blue...
I'm a schizophrenic..
...and so am I.....
...:notsure: ...........:jumping: ......
reef_magic
Member
i think poems are cool:yes:
pumpie
Member
This poem is not by me but I love it, one of my favorites!!
Traveling Through the Dark ~ William Stafford
Traveling through the dark I found a deer
dead on the edge of the Wilson River road.
It is usually best to roll them into the canyon:
that road is narrow; to swerve might make more dead.
By glow of the tail-light I stumbled back of the car
and stood by the heap, a doe, a recent killing;
she had stiffened already, almost cold.
I dragged her off; she was large in the belly.
My fingers touching her side brought me the reason--
her side was warm; her fawn lay there waiting,
alive, still, never to be born.
Beside that mountain road I hesitated.
The car aimed ahead its lowered parking lights;
under the hood purred the steady engine.
I stood in the glare of the warm exhaust turning red;
around our group I could hear the wilderness listen.
I thought hard for us all--my only swerving--,
then pushed her over the edge into the river.
Traveling Through the Dark ~ William Stafford
Traveling through the dark I found a deer
dead on the edge of the Wilson River road.
It is usually best to roll them into the canyon:
that road is narrow; to swerve might make more dead.
By glow of the tail-light I stumbled back of the car
and stood by the heap, a doe, a recent killing;
she had stiffened already, almost cold.
I dragged her off; she was large in the belly.
My fingers touching her side brought me the reason--
her side was warm; her fawn lay there waiting,
alive, still, never to be born.
Beside that mountain road I hesitated.
The car aimed ahead its lowered parking lights;
under the hood purred the steady engine.
I stood in the glare of the warm exhaust turning red;
around our group I could hear the wilderness listen.
I thought hard for us all--my only swerving--,
then pushed her over the edge into the river.
reef_magic
Member
that's disgusting :nope:
pumpie
Member
Here's another good one. This poem was written in 1919, but I find it so very ironic how it still applies to our society today!
September, 1918 ~ Amy Lowell
The afternoon was the color of water falling through sunlight;
The trees glittered with the tumbling of leaves;
and the houses ran along them laughing out of square, open windows.
Under a tree in the park,
Two little boys lying flat on their faces,
Were carefully gathering red berries
To put in a pasteboard box.
Someday there will be no war.
Then I shall take out this afternoon
And turn it in my fingers
And remark the sweet taste of it upon my palate,
And note the crisp variety of its flights of leaves.
To-day I can only gather it
And put it into my lunch-box,
For I have time for nothing
But the endevour to balance myself
Upon a broken world.
September, 1918 ~ Amy Lowell
The afternoon was the color of water falling through sunlight;
The trees glittered with the tumbling of leaves;
and the houses ran along them laughing out of square, open windows.
Under a tree in the park,
Two little boys lying flat on their faces,
Were carefully gathering red berries
To put in a pasteboard box.
Someday there will be no war.
Then I shall take out this afternoon
And turn it in my fingers
And remark the sweet taste of it upon my palate,
And note the crisp variety of its flights of leaves.
To-day I can only gather it
And put it into my lunch-box,
For I have time for nothing
But the endevour to balance myself
Upon a broken world.
luke9815
New Member
My poem...a little odd...but I love it....
The Evil Gnome
By: Luke Martin
A cow went to town
To buy some milk and cheese
He went to the store and fell to the floor when he couldn't get the cheese
He waited until noon and drank his milk with a spoon
They never got the cheese so he said gees
He left to his home and on his way was stopped by a gnome
The gnome said come with me and into my tree
The gnome snatched the cow and the cow went ow!
The gnome at him and then went to the gym
He saw a friend there and told him to cut his hair
So his friend and him left the gym to cut the buddies hair
The gnome went home and didn't give a care
The buddy went home and called the gnome
He ask how did you make that mask
The mask was made from beef and cheese and the gnomes buddy said wow gee golly gees
Then he asked where did he get it and the gnome said come over here I hid it
So the friend went there with his newly cut hair
The gnome came out and made a big shout
He said come here for i have hidden it in my mounted deer
He stuck his hand in the mouth and screamed in fright with a shout
He said it bit my hand so he dropped it and waited for it to land
Then it got up the gnome and his friend laid out a big hiccup
They were so scared they jumped in the air
Then the cow that the gnome ate walked out of the gate
The friend of the gnome ran out of his home
The gnome was attacked as he screamed out ACK!!!
The gnome died and nobody cried
The people were glad he left because he was in trouble for theft
The end of the story is a bit blurry
But all we have ever known is that this was the end of the evil gnome
Now the town is in peace and has a lot of milk and cheese
The cops took the gnomes supply then poked his dead body in the eye
He was definitely dead but to make sure they chopped off his head
They cleared out his house and now all that lives in there is a mouse
The End
The Evil Gnome
By: Luke Martin
A cow went to town
To buy some milk and cheese
He went to the store and fell to the floor when he couldn't get the cheese
He waited until noon and drank his milk with a spoon
They never got the cheese so he said gees
He left to his home and on his way was stopped by a gnome
The gnome said come with me and into my tree
The gnome snatched the cow and the cow went ow!
The gnome at him and then went to the gym
He saw a friend there and told him to cut his hair
So his friend and him left the gym to cut the buddies hair
The gnome went home and didn't give a care
The buddy went home and called the gnome
He ask how did you make that mask
The mask was made from beef and cheese and the gnomes buddy said wow gee golly gees
Then he asked where did he get it and the gnome said come over here I hid it
So the friend went there with his newly cut hair
The gnome came out and made a big shout
He said come here for i have hidden it in my mounted deer
He stuck his hand in the mouth and screamed in fright with a shout
He said it bit my hand so he dropped it and waited for it to land
Then it got up the gnome and his friend laid out a big hiccup
They were so scared they jumped in the air
Then the cow that the gnome ate walked out of the gate
The friend of the gnome ran out of his home
The gnome was attacked as he screamed out ACK!!!
The gnome died and nobody cried
The people were glad he left because he was in trouble for theft
The end of the story is a bit blurry
But all we have ever known is that this was the end of the evil gnome
Now the town is in peace and has a lot of milk and cheese
The cops took the gnomes supply then poked his dead body in the eye
He was definitely dead but to make sure they chopped off his head
They cleared out his house and now all that lives in there is a mouse
The End
sweetdawn
Active Member
the yellow balloon
The balloon is yellow not quite round,
it floats at the end of a string.
A little child not long ago cried,
when it slipped away.
Now it has floated many days,
and tangled in a tree.
where its short life seeps slowly out
to sink so heavily...
wrote it when I was a freshman in highschool. Im 42 now suprised i can still remember it.
The balloon is yellow not quite round,
it floats at the end of a string.
A little child not long ago cried,
when it slipped away.
Now it has floated many days,
and tangled in a tree.
where its short life seeps slowly out
to sink so heavily...
wrote it when I was a freshman in highschool. Im 42 now suprised i can still remember it.
reef_magic
Member
Originally posted by Meow
It's ok, Pumpie... I appreciated the poem.
figures