[ home ] [ rules ] [ ] [ art / bm / dr / gf / mew / nos / sp ] [ overboard ] [ deeds ] [ bavi ] [ meta ]

/art/ - Art

that side of the brain
Name
Email
Subject
Comment
File
Embed
Password (For file deletion.)

Dreamchan now has a Twitter!

File: 1662510002706.png (2.64 MB, 1200x1807, 8802e751-4a39-4305-94a2-68….png)

No. 85

All poetry welcome. Whether it be short poetry or an epic, oc you're proud of or something you think is very poor, a poem that speaks to you made by a long dead poet or just something you thought used pretty looking words. OC very encouraged.

No.86

I'd been pretty hardcore into writing poetry for about a year before I dropped it for about a year. Now I'm back in the game for the past yearish. I finally wrote the first poem I've been proud of since coming back into it recently and want to share it here.

Poem 09/01/2022
Many watch themselves in creeks
And many say that they are better
They curse their mirrors and their screens
And say they need their fetters

But when they once reject their lies
With sight of distant flowing glee
Using honest weights and measures
By leaving their reflections on the sea

They can stop being rampant fearers
And find at once the truth in chrome
Then they can begin to construct
A semblance of a sturdy home

No.87

I wrote this one back in August of this year. Can't remember exactly when and I failed to date it. I'm not at all proud of this one. I find it pretty gross actually. I had a good idea but I ultimately failed to deliver on it and kinda gave up on it unfortunately. Tis all part of the creative process.

Untitled Poem
For many years I've walked many roads
Exploring many lives most may never see
Hoping to find one that will define me
But little did I know then that it's all within

I spent all my days studying the buildings,
The trees, the people but never myself
Hoping for a picture to put on my shelf
But little did I know then that it's all within

As I grew older and all I knew was fleeting
I thought I'd grew wiser but a fool was I
As every day I let the ones I loved pass me by
How little I knew then that it was all within

And soon I would be called by a grave knell
One I rendered to with purpose for help
I didn't know then they knew I were a whelp
How little too late I learned and yearned

Surely now to write this you'll have to think
I must've cheated death yet that's not true
I'd only found a new end deep in the blue
How little I knew then that it was all within

I still let myself be taken by many people
Those who loved me had already moved on
All that stayed with me wanted me gone
How little I knew then to really look within

No.88

I wrote this one back on July 6th of this year. I wrote it about my girlfriend and it's really an A for effort piece from me but I still see some redeeming qualities in it. I really tried to make this one work but it doesn't unfortunately.

A Poem for my Aloe
on the window sill sits a pretty little aloe.
a gentle potted plant with a very odd beauty.
and though its type seems to rise very, very slow,
that doesn't mean it will never, ever grow.

despite what the so called experts may say
the aloe requires more attention than just a drop
of water every other day as it's healthy for it to play.
but regardless it's a stubborn little thing to sway.

and while it struggles to stand very tall,
it is anyways beautiful, rigid and good for healing.
when I find myself heeding it's gorgeous birdsong call,
I have no problem being my aloe's little thrall.

because out in the sun my beautiful aloe
sits, certainly absorbing all the all the light it can,
persevering rain and thunder and wind and cold and snow,
holding inside its beautiful healthy water,
which is really why I love my little aloe.

No.89

Untitled Poem 07/09/2022
harsh weather usually comes without a warning
and will leave those in it's wake devastated and mourning
the only good defense against a sudden harsh storm
is making a hole with sturdy doors and walls your dorm

while it's easy to pass the time with games and with drinking
when you wake up you'll ask what the hell you were thinking
so don't let the storm beat you into alcohol
unless you like to feel hit by a fast foot ball

and though you may tire and want to go with the wind
it's very important not to make a harsh decision with patience thinned
it's easier to be strong and courageous in the comfort of shelter
so simply just ride it out and you'll be safe before you know it

No.90

Unfinished Poem 06/23/2022
Life comes so fast sometimes
Your feet will slip while you climb
But have a little bit of faith
So take your time you won't be late
The years you spend eating balogna
Will only prove that you're not a phoney

No.91

A bit of a depressing one.

Untitled Poem 05/29/2022
I'm wasting my time putting my words on paper
Because everything I make was written by a faker
I still keep trying though to write something clever
But all I know is that original will take forever

I used to conjure scenery that would make you gasp
Now I write situations that wouldn't even make you laugh
I'm hoping one day I'll get those skills back, maybe soon
But I think I'd sooner throw a rock and hit the moon

I swear at one point I could even create meaning
Yet today everything I write is to art demeaning
And I make mockery of what I once made
Believing I might get something from this crusade

Maybe still it is good that I just keep on trying
As writing more might bring the goals for which I'm vying
But my expectations for the future aren't grand
As at this moment my works are at best bland

No.92

Even more depressing

Untitled Poem 05/24/2022
I have found myself already so weary
But don't believe that I find life dreary

Instead I strain my ears for the rumbling drum
Of sweetened rain striking this lowly slum

It helps me to find some easy rest
And after all deep sleep is the best

So as my thoughts all fade away
I completely leave this world of gray

No.93

Untitled Poem 05/24/2022
Whenever I find the sun is setting
And I have a rock still in my hands,
I try to burn away that anger
By dreaming of better, warmer sands.

I conjure up images of footprints
And waves washing them away.
I don't fear their fading,
But feel happy to have my own play.

I sometimes peer at better days
Where I'm only in good company.
But I'm not quite there yet
And I feel I'm better when living free.

Though I thought of these many things,
I'm not happy just with what could be.
So I sober my visions and see
Clearly reality is so much better for me.

And while there's still some heft in my breath,
I see it each day as less a burden to bear.
And with the wind I can muster,
I say "I don't think I'd rather be elsewhere."

No.94

This is the earliest poem I still have record of. I write it because my uncle kept stealing from me lol.

Untitled Poem 05/13/2022
If I kept a gun in my night stand,
It would be unloaded by the morning.
And even if I made my food bland,
It would be eaten without warning.

It seems no matter what I do,
Without regard for my desires,
Another always comes through
Searching for things they can acquire.

No matter how I try to fight
With locks and walks and talks,
I always wake to a dismal sight:
Everything is gone! All but the socks…

No.95

Last thing I'll post is my favorite poem written by someone else.

A Psalm of Life by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
What the Heart of the Young Man Said to the Psalmist

Tell me not, in mournful numbers,
"Life is but an empty dream!"
For the soul is dead that slumbers,
And things are not what they seem.

Life is real! Life is earnest!
And the grave is not its goal;
"Dust thou art, to dust returnest,"
Was not spoken of the soul.

Not enjoyment, and not sorrow,
Is our destined end or way;
But to act, that each to-morrow
Finds us farther than to-day.

Art is long, and Time is fleeting,
And our hearts, though stout and brave,
Still, like muffled drums, are beating
Funeral marches to the grave.

In the world's broad field of battle,
In the bivouac of Life,
Be not like dumb, driven cattle!
Be a hero in the strife!

Trust no Future, howe'er pleasant!
Let the dead Past bury its dead!
Act,–act in the living Present!
Heart within, and God o'erhead!

Lives of great men all remind us
We can make our lives sublime,
And, departing, leave behind us
Footprints on the sands of time;

Footprints, that perhaps another,
Sailing o'er life's solemn main,
A forlorn and shipwrecked brother,
Seeing, shall take heart again.

Let us, then, be up and doing,
With a heart for any fate;
Still achieving, still pursuing
Learn to labor and to wait.



Delete Post [ ]
[Return]
[ home ] [ rules ] [ ] [ art / bm / dr / gf / mew / nos / sp ] [ overboard ] [ deeds ] [ bavi ] [ meta ]