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The idea behind this place is that instead of starting your own thread with one poem they can all go in here instead.
Here is then, a place for your all your word's of beauty, anger, love, disappointment and anything else you care to add.
Here is then, a place for your all your word's of beauty, anger, love, disappointment and anything else you care to add.
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This one doesn't have me humour included I'm afraid...
The name
In a small Welshy town, a boy did live, see.
I was that boy, everybody knew me.
I didn’t know them, I’m not from Cymru*,
They knew me as The Edge, or more commonly, Edgy.
I used to be quite naïve, a lot like a twit.
I didn’t even have a great deal of wit.
I hated attention when directed at me.
It made me feel nervous, extremely edgy.
I did do my best to stay quite cool,
I kept to myself, not looking the fool.
But everyday I began to hate,
To hate those people that chose to irritate.
They knew I wouldn’t like it, that they could cause me pain.
They called me names, insulted me again.
I tried to ignore them, I really did try,
Every waking second I wanted to cry.
I hated to be touched, I hated to be seen.
Why was everyone being so mean?
I started to get nasty, to stick up for what’s right.
I answered back, I plucked up my might,
And somehow managed to avoid any fights.
Eventually things calmed, though I didn’t then see,
People were less hurtful, less hurtful to me.
They tried to make contact, though with futility.
They soon realised I’d become too edgy.
Maybe that’s how it started, I really don’t know,
As I never really like to be put on show.
They called me The Edge, but more commonly,
They decided to call me Edgy.
*Cymru is pronounced "Cum-ree" as is the Welsh word for Wales.
The name
In a small Welshy town, a boy did live, see.
I was that boy, everybody knew me.
I didn’t know them, I’m not from Cymru*,
They knew me as The Edge, or more commonly, Edgy.
I used to be quite naïve, a lot like a twit.
I didn’t even have a great deal of wit.
I hated attention when directed at me.
It made me feel nervous, extremely edgy.
I did do my best to stay quite cool,
I kept to myself, not looking the fool.
But everyday I began to hate,
To hate those people that chose to irritate.
They knew I wouldn’t like it, that they could cause me pain.
They called me names, insulted me again.
I tried to ignore them, I really did try,
Every waking second I wanted to cry.
I hated to be touched, I hated to be seen.
Why was everyone being so mean?
I started to get nasty, to stick up for what’s right.
I answered back, I plucked up my might,
And somehow managed to avoid any fights.
Eventually things calmed, though I didn’t then see,
People were less hurtful, less hurtful to me.
They tried to make contact, though with futility.
They soon realised I’d become too edgy.
Maybe that’s how it started, I really don’t know,
As I never really like to be put on show.
They called me The Edge, but more commonly,
They decided to call me Edgy.
*Cymru is pronounced "Cum-ree" as is the Welsh word for Wales.
told ya meistro i told ya!
ITS D BOLLAX!
ITS D BOLLAX!
Edgy i loved your's, anything with a sense of humour and characters will always get a smile.
Chris i liked it, but thought it was a little short.
Chris i liked it, but thought it was a little short.
Another attempt at humour from The Edge Man:
The walk.
In the small house, in the small street,
Lived a little dog with very little feet.
He loved his biscuits and he loved his ball,
He even loved his owner’s call.
But the one thing he loved best of all
Was walkies, his favourite treat.
His owner called and his tail did wag,
He ran down the stairs and sniffed an old bag.
In it was food and some scrummy eats.
He knew to be good if he wanted them treats.
Out through the door, his first target locked,
Against that lamp post his leg would be cocked.
He let out a squirt that let out a whiff,
But just to be sure, he gave it a sniff.
He then saw his next victim, a little green frog.
But this little frog could outsmart the dog.
He stayed still as a rock, not crying for help,
He then gave a “ribbit” and heard the dog yelp.
The dog kept on staring as he continued to pass,
But was soon destracted by a Labrador’s ass.
He stared at it keenly, he waggled his tale.
He ran up real close and really inhaled.
The Labrador turned to get a surprise,
A little Jack Russell had started to rise.
Disturbed by the intrusion, the bigger dog did growl,
She kicked him and ran, causing poor Jack to howl.
Jack was shocked by the let down, he really was sad,
Until he got some attention from a little wee lad.
The boy seemed so happy, he wanted to play,
But a tug on the lead told Jack he could not stay.
A pat on the head and the boy said “goodbye”
Jack turned his small head and yelped at the boy.
It wasn’t long before he arrived at the park,
He ran around without direction, he had such a lark.
He noticed in the distance, a fairground with stalls,
But he didn’t go there, he just licked his balls.
“Rollover, Good boy” his owner did say.
Jack liked it a lot when he started to play.
He did everything his master commanded,
A triple back flip and a bark as he landed.
He knew he would soon get some delicious eats,
And soon enough he was given some treats.
On the way back, his tail didn’t shake,
His legs were tired and his shoulders did ache.
But it was all worth it, he had some great fun,
And even got a sniff of a Labrador’s bum.
He didn’t complain though, he had a good day,
Tomorrow he’d eat, sleep, pee and play.
He sat down in his basket, started licking his feet,
For tomorrow would be walkies, his favourite treat.
The walk.
In the small house, in the small street,
Lived a little dog with very little feet.
He loved his biscuits and he loved his ball,
He even loved his owner’s call.
But the one thing he loved best of all
Was walkies, his favourite treat.
His owner called and his tail did wag,
He ran down the stairs and sniffed an old bag.
In it was food and some scrummy eats.
He knew to be good if he wanted them treats.
Out through the door, his first target locked,
Against that lamp post his leg would be cocked.
He let out a squirt that let out a whiff,
But just to be sure, he gave it a sniff.
He then saw his next victim, a little green frog.
But this little frog could outsmart the dog.
He stayed still as a rock, not crying for help,
He then gave a “ribbit” and heard the dog yelp.
The dog kept on staring as he continued to pass,
But was soon destracted by a Labrador’s ass.
He stared at it keenly, he waggled his tale.
He ran up real close and really inhaled.
The Labrador turned to get a surprise,
A little Jack Russell had started to rise.
Disturbed by the intrusion, the bigger dog did growl,
She kicked him and ran, causing poor Jack to howl.
Jack was shocked by the let down, he really was sad,
Until he got some attention from a little wee lad.
The boy seemed so happy, he wanted to play,
But a tug on the lead told Jack he could not stay.
A pat on the head and the boy said “goodbye”
Jack turned his small head and yelped at the boy.
It wasn’t long before he arrived at the park,
He ran around without direction, he had such a lark.
He noticed in the distance, a fairground with stalls,
But he didn’t go there, he just licked his balls.
“Rollover, Good boy” his owner did say.
Jack liked it a lot when he started to play.
He did everything his master commanded,
A triple back flip and a bark as he landed.
He knew he would soon get some delicious eats,
And soon enough he was given some treats.
On the way back, his tail didn’t shake,
His legs were tired and his shoulders did ache.
But it was all worth it, he had some great fun,
And even got a sniff of a Labrador’s bum.
He didn’t complain though, he had a good day,
Tomorrow he’d eat, sleep, pee and play.
He sat down in his basket, started licking his feet,
For tomorrow would be walkies, his favourite treat.
100 DAYS AT SPECIAL RESERVE
My beginning at Special Reserve
Got off to an eventful start
Eventually things quietened down
And were peaceful for quite a long part
However, I returned to SR again
To post more of my views
And if some of the arguments hadn't been virtual
Someone could have got badly bruised
As I increased my days on the site
I knew it was great at SR
As I sat down and logged on again
I thought "It's been great so far"
And now as I sit near 10PM
Typing this poem in my room
I realise I picked the wrong name for this poem
My days are a hundred and two!
My beginning at Special Reserve
Got off to an eventful start
Eventually things quietened down
And were peaceful for quite a long part
However, I returned to SR again
To post more of my views
And if some of the arguments hadn't been virtual
Someone could have got badly bruised
As I increased my days on the site
I knew it was great at SR
As I sat down and logged on again
I thought "It's been great so far"
And now as I sit near 10PM
Typing this poem in my room
I realise I picked the wrong name for this poem
My days are a hundred and two!
Right i've read ashman's and paradox's, Ash i love your's, if i can read it and it flows i'm always likely to love it.
Para, i always have a problem with overly long sentences, so you will have to rely on other's opinion's but the language wasnt too complex as sometimes happens with less structured material and that made it easier to read.
Para, i always have a problem with overly long sentences, so you will have to rely on other's opinion's but the language wasnt too complex as sometimes happens with less structured material and that made it easier to read.
The wake
Come, Come and Join me
Feel the room with darkness
Come, Come and taunt me
Nothing you say matters now
Nothing you say matters now
A subsequent life can start out so merry
Things begin and change, begin and change
No need for hugs and kisses
What will they do now?
What will they do
Left alone in a room
Dishing out tea and smiling
Smiling to faces past and faces new
What do I do, what do I do
Frail old ladies sitting blue
And there I say ‘One sugar or two?’
Nobody seems to know
Know you like I do
In your chair, giggling merrily
Your hard large belly
Supporting my head
As you pat my hair sweeping it
Talking about Nan when she was 34, 36, 34
How dad ran through that door
Ran, young, tripped and blood spurted up that wall
And you said ‘Don’t run fool!’
Picked him up and made him better
I can’t make you better at all
Now I am the fool
That cold, cold room
You coughed no more
You hurt no more
You lay still, cold, still
But I know you don’t hurt
I know you don’t hurt but
I do, I cannot cuddle you
I am to scared
So I walk in with a tray full
Full of a good Mizen brew
To make you proud
Once more
Come, Come and Join me
Feel the room with darkness
Come, Come and taunt me
Nothing you say matters now
Nothing you say matters now
A subsequent life can start out so merry
Things begin and change, begin and change
No need for hugs and kisses
What will they do now?
What will they do
Left alone in a room
Dishing out tea and smiling
Smiling to faces past and faces new
What do I do, what do I do
Frail old ladies sitting blue
And there I say ‘One sugar or two?’
Nobody seems to know
Know you like I do
In your chair, giggling merrily
Your hard large belly
Supporting my head
As you pat my hair sweeping it
Talking about Nan when she was 34, 36, 34
How dad ran through that door
Ran, young, tripped and blood spurted up that wall
And you said ‘Don’t run fool!’
Picked him up and made him better
I can’t make you better at all
Now I am the fool
That cold, cold room
You coughed no more
You hurt no more
You lay still, cold, still
But I know you don’t hurt
I know you don’t hurt but
I do, I cannot cuddle you
I am to scared
So I walk in with a tray full
Full of a good Mizen brew
To make you proud
Once more
Cheers you two.
<< <> >> wrote:
> Ice – cream man starts coming,
> Screw balls for all,
> With bubble gum in and chocolate bits on.
Another flash of brilliance ;)
> Ice – cream man starts coming,
> Screw balls for all,
> With bubble gum in and chocolate bits on.
Another flash of brilliance ;)
mmmmmmmmmm screw balls *mouth waters* this is what poetry ist about
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