Post your poems here, if you happen to have any. They may/may not be related to Housepets!

There once was a dog named tarot
who's futures of people she could see
she looked at peanuts future tommorrow
and foresaw him playing the wii

I made that up just now :3

The Hate Machine - 6/4/2010

They say they stand for freedom
And all that you hold dear
They tell you news and stories
And what you want to hear

They claim they're fair and balanced
And think they are the light
What they're not going to tell you
Is they really want to fight
For greed and tyrrany
And not for what is right

They like the Constitution
But not what lies within
They do not know or care
That they have also sinned

They claim they have the answers
By putting on a show
Their words are just pollution
Not what you need to know

The hate machine keeps whirring
As it generates more lies
It feeds on others' fear
As your freedom slowly dies

Last Ones Left - 6/3/2010
When all the people suffer
As their freedom slowly dies
When people start to listen
To ignorance and lies
The last ones left will rise
And shout so all can hear
They'll sing a song of pride
And cast away their fear

For knowledge in is the answer
And sanity will win
As they begin to learn
That hatred is a sin

They'll gather side by side
United that we stand
We'll reach out to our neighbors
And offer them a hand

Their enemies will crumble
To those that start to see
That we all share a world
That's made for you and me

(c) 2010 Clarke Macbeth
If you're going to share, please give credit where it's due.

Links
http://www.furaffinity.net/view/3955272/
http://www.furaffinity.net/view/3959475/

Zach Zach buh-back,
Banananana fuh-fack,
Me-Mah-Mo-Mack,
ZAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAACH! :>

I saw a little birdy
that had a pretty head
I went to sit down on the bird
and now that bird is dead

- Oxhorn wrote the above

(Yeah, your right Typhon, my bad )

Don't you mean "now" instead of not?

O my gosh i love you for making this thread.

ahem,

I’ve always been
The youngest of my kin.

I’ve always cried
While everyone lied.

I have 3 older bros
Who have fun like pros.

But they never include me.

Two went to college
One stayed at home.

Two always called
The one that was alone.

They never thought of
How three might feel.

Three was me.

If I were like them
Would they like me more?

If I were like them
Would they leave me at the door?

If I were like them
Would they continue to sneak?
So there little sister couldn’t take a peek?

If I were like them
Would they have fun with me?

If I were like them
Would I be as mean?

If I were like them
Would I always feel loved?

No.

The thing about them makes
Them who they are.

Same for me.

If I were like them,
I’d lose my touch.
My uniqueness
My mind
My heart
My life.

So ‘if’ is a word
I like to ignore.

If not I’d be wishing all the time
That’d be a bore.

So I guess in my mourning
I’ve learned something new.

That I am me.
And will never be like you.

Been written for over a year or so. Something tells me, now, more than ever, the poem has an eerie relevance. If you like it (only if you actually like it), do me a favor and boost my ego by faving it on DA or just say you like it or something.

Status Hidden
by ~Buckdida

Anyone can be anybody, where anonymity rules.
First there are the friendly ones,
The ones who want to help.
Teachers, talkers; not the takers
Make the nicest group.
Anyone can be anybody, where anonymity rules.
Then there are the annoying ones,
The ones who won’t shut up.
With squirrely, squeaky voices
They want to be liked but never learn.
Anyone can be anybody, where anonymity rules.
Next there are the mean ones,
The ones who cause you grief.
They find a way to ruin your day;
You wish you find them to make them pay.
Anyone can be anybody, where anonymity rules.
Following are the artists,
The ones who unleash their mind.
Writers, drawers, both combined
Creating what they mention
Vying for attention…
Anyone can be anybody, where anonymity rules.
Next up are the thieves
The ones who take and steal.
Going around the back,
Taking, setting traps
Stealing from your pack.
Last there are the fantasizers.
The ones who change themselves.
Weak to strong, shy to charismatic
Lying to honesty, skin to fur.
Forever changing.
For anyone can be anybody, where anonymity rules.
_____________
(Oh yeah, and copyright to me, Buckdida, cause I really like this one.)

haiku are easy
but sometimes they don't make sense
refrigerator

I really liked it Buckdida, except the part where you hinted toward squirrels being annoying o.O, sorry I can't comment or favorite, I don't have a DA account.

I'll tell you what I think on DA, Bucky. What do you guys think of my two poems? I also made this so people could comment and criticize. You can do that here or on the social networks in the links.

OKay, my darkest poem EVER.
warning: do not let this change how you see the game, she was just reallly sad and mad when she wrote this.
double warning: be armed with a box of tish yous


I feel trapped.
Caught.
My throat is closing and my breaths come short.
The walls are closing in, causing me to shrink down with fear.
My heart skips a beat than two,than three then stops altogether.
I'll never be found in the cold, stone room,cornered with little air and space.
NO comforting hand is on my lifeless shoulder but seconds after I'm surrounded by loving warmth. No soothing voice is telling me my direction any longer, my body is on it's own. It is now a dark, dreary shell, empty with no occupant.
As my soul floats swiftly to a better place, i think. I think of Earth , the place humans worshiped. The place they thought created itself and made them from monkeys. The place that told me I could never succeed, live, learn, and love. The world where knowledge was useless and stupidity was bliss. The place that turned me into an unloving, cold, harsh, evil, slab of selfishness. The place that thrived on the failure of others, the cries and screams of the suffering. The place that i no longer belonged to, no longer lived in, no longer cared about. It had chewed me and spit me out, swallowed and regurgitated me, crumbled me and my dreams and beliefs like irritating junk mail. It had finished me and was glad, as was I. I was now with my ever-loving father, in the place where all pain would be forgotten, all cries soothed and shushed, like those of a crying infant.
I feel loved.
My dreams are listened to, my thoughts admired.
Possibilities were before me, ready for me and me alone.
Everywhere i roam, the Lord is at my side, with a comforting hand, soothing voice, ready to guide me if I stray.
I feel free of all saddening things.
Praise be to God for helping and guiding my way through trials tough and simple, mournful events and spiteful people.
He has saved me from my stone cold life.

I wouldn't necessarily call that dark, but it's CRAZY good. Awesome work.

Hrm... I'm gonna have to disagree with Teh Brawler, and say that was kinda narm-ish... :/ came across as whiney, sorry.

~

But as for mine:

Bang goes the gun
The Film Star falls
Tragedy to stoics,
children, narcisstics

Bang goes the gun
The soldier falls
And what about him?
Oh,
he's a statisic

~

Satire is fun

It's a german one, I wrote once (well not too far away) it's hard to translate, but I will give it a try...


Selbstmord (by me)

Was ist dies nun?
Ein durch eigenhand Hand verursachter Tod
So steht es im Buch.
Was fühlen dies Menschen,
die sowas gedenken und tun?
Handeln sie aus Schmerz oder Not?
Man weiß es selten.

Leben ist wie eine Rose.
Die Dornen werden immer vorhanden sein.
Die Blüte dagegen kommt und geht.
Pflückt man diese. So ist es anders.
Die Blüte wird sterben, in kurzer Zeit.
Die Dornen, die bestehen.
Somit ist das einzige was bleibt,
nach dem Selbstmord, Trauer und Bitterkeit.

Translation:

Suicide

what is it?
A death, made by his own hands.
That says the book.
But what do such humans feel,
who want to do or just doing that?
Are they doing it cos of pain or affliction?
Only sometimes you know.

Life is like a rose.
The spikes will stay for ever.
The bloom will come and go.
When you cull it, it's diffrent.
The bloom dies, very soon.
Only the spikes remains.
So, the onliest thing, which stays,
are sorrow and bitterness.

yeah, thanks for the correction.

Also, I didn't know we had so many poets on these forums!

He said to help the poor
The suffering and weak
He said to love your neighbor
And hand out to the meek

Yet you ignore his word
And change it for you needs
You filter what you like
And keep up with bad deeds

You take the path of greed
And preach a different tune
You disobey his word
And hate those not like you

When the time comes
The wrong things that you do
Will go against his order
And it will be your doom

http://www.furaffinity.net/view/4009781

There is a dog that lives in the hood
Some residents say that he's up to no good

He dresses in costumes and acts like a cat
Maybe he's lonely and just wants to chat

Does he want acceptance or is it a show?
Is it for attention, does anyone know?

Why is he so strange? Is it just for play?
Why does he keep doing this day after day?

At least he has courage to show who he is
Not hide everything like that brother of his

He's Joey the dog and he is here to stay
Though he may be strange, I think that is okay.

Anthro, was that supposed to sound like Fresh prince?:>

That was not my intention, but if you prefer to see it that way...

Nono, it wasn't meant in a bad way if you'd think that Oo It's just that look at the two lines, and compare those to some lyrics in the fresh prince in bel air opening theme :3 The tune just popped up in my head :<

I guess I can see it sounding like that.

i can see that to the fresh prince tune.
...
lol, joey as the fresh prince
lol

What happened to our family
And what we used to be?

What happened to the innocence
And all the joy and glee?

What happened to the time
And many of our dreams?

Why does it all like like
It's tattered at the seams?

Is it all going to work out
Is there hope around the bend?

Or is everything we worked for
Going to reach its end?

Okay, so I wrote a poem, don't keel me cuz is lame :3

A dream, a world you into plumber
When you finally get to slumber
A world you visit once a day
It might make you feel dismay

A cat who visits it alot
Gets to work with a plot (<.<lol)
Reality hits you in the face
A smile you get, quick at pace

Wake up, wake up sleepy cat
Or else you'll get really fat
Above her is the pooch she loves
Who makes her think, of white doves

Portal to heavens, are his eyes
Looks like two, fragments of skies
Both in love, with eachother
But are with, someone other

In her dreams, he is there
But she is, in a sphere
Shining armor, he's a knight
In the lunar glow of this very night

A kiss she gives, on the nose
Makes him tremble, lose his pose
A hug he gives, soft and cuddly
The smell of him, makes her bubbly

Wake up, wake up the dream is over
Sorry for interrupting, these two lovers

OH AND also! Plumber is not the profession in this case, it has different meaning(Like, enter or summit) <,< sorry for confusion Oo

Nice poem. I'd post my latest work, but it would go against the rules of the forum.

Waiting for the dark.
Waiting for the light.
Waiting for the day
And waiting for the night.
Waiting for what’s good,
And waiting for what’s not
Waiting for what’s cold
And waiting for what’s hot.
Waiting for some time
And waiting for a rhyme.
Waiting for the thing that will make
The wait
All worth while.


Safe to say it's my lamest poem ever.

I did a full-length hip-hop duet song a few months back:
<Song>
<Title="You Don’t Care">
<Genre=R&B>
<Singer=male>
There once was a nation that was strong and free,
A nation that was once a democracy,
A people stood united, they were strong and brave,
But now they have to hide their views in a cave,
(Be)cause ignorance is winning as the lies are spread,
While people on the street need a slice of bread,
They say they want to keep things for the best,
But in reality they’re like the rest,
<Autotune>Like the rest</Autotune>
<Chorus><Singer=female>
You don’t care about tomorrow
You don’t think about the sorrow of the sick and suffering
And the more you ventilate
All your messages of hate
The more your words will say to me
Is that you don’t care
You don’t care
</Chorus>
<Singer=male>
The more they want to talk it up the less I hear,
(Be)cause everything they say to us is just a smear,
They really want to take us to place and time,
Where freedom isn’t real and it’s just another rhyme,
They don’t really want to help us; they’re just giving us a show,
(Be)cause the more they want to speak to us the less we know.
<Autotune>Less we know</Autotune>
<Chorus><Singer=male>
As people have to pay for the dirty air we breathe,
You disrespect the planet and expect us to believe,
That everything is fine and that it’ll fix itself,
Like problems will be solved using nothing more than wealth,
That nothing should be done for the people that are sick,
I’ve heard it all before and I know your little trick,
(Be)cause money’s all that matters and the people should beware,
As you pray for better days, the truth is that you don’t care.
<Autotune>You don’t care</Autotune>
<Chorus>
<Chorus>
<Singer=male>
Don’t care about the poor and the people on the street,
Don’t care about the dying and the people that are weak,
Don’t care about the people here that cannot get a job,
You probably just right them off for being another slob,
Don’t care about the tolerance for those who disagree,
Don’t care about the people here like you and me.
<autotune>You and me</autotune>
<Chorus>
<Singer=male>
And as you shut the door on me,
And on a better world where we,
Can work together peacefully,
The more we won't care.
<Autotune>We won't care.</Autotune>
</song>

For HTML n00bs: <start> </end>, and <Chorus> tags repeat the chorus.

I went through my memory box and found this gem I wrote in third grade (I think)

"My Sister's Head"
My sister's head should be replaced,
it's lighter than a feather.
She's trying to use tomato paste
to paste tomatoes together.

not a poet, but more a saying I made up, wondering what you gus think.

"Don't wish you could do that, want that you can do that"

interesting choice of words for sure. 'wanting that' feels like a different form of having,willing and taking.

My idea of what it means was:
"if a person wishes he could, he is probably to lazy or has no time to take action in order to do it, if a person wants to do that, his mind is set to it , and hes going for it"

i got one! i got one!

Ooh Eeh Ooh Ah Aah Ting Tang Walla Walla Bing Bang

(ten points for the man who gets this!)

I am the witch docter and...I don't know the lyrics.

Still I get it

nice! *high-fives*

For CTC's Grace, in Oasis Towers

Alone in the Crowd.

Walking down this empty, dark street
Walking down all alone, nothing there but darkness
Darkness, shadows consuming every inch of light
Shadows consuming every evidence of life

Walking down this street, death all around
Everywhere there's suffering and torture
Suffering and death combine, makes it one
One they stand, against all that is light

Walking down this empty, lonely road
Walking there, all alone, no one around
Shadows and eyes watching ready to strike
Eyes dangerous enough to kill and annihilate

I walk down this empty road laughing
I look at the dark corners and smile
I know what is dark and what is not
Deep down inside, this road, is me

Ok, I call this poem, "Cake?". I wrote it in Spanish class one day and my friend is like "... what's wrong with you?", so I can't really remember how I exactly wrote it, but I'll try...

A fresh baked cake, lying on the table
Icing all over it, the cake is happy to be alive.
So the man who bakes it, betrays it...
he grabs a knife, and when the cake isn't looking, stabs it!
The Cake screams for help but no one hears it,
It can't be saved.
A chunk is cut of his body, why? Why do such a thing?
The cake is still breathing, stuggling to stay alive while the cake tries to cry,
But is stabbed again, this time harder, you can see the blood drip off the knife.
Dripping and falling onto his own body, once again, a chunk is taken out...
Blood is on the wall...
WHY??? the Cake screams, I'm born and then this!!!
The Chef then puts his knife through the cake and looks at it...
"You, you think you got to suffer? What about all the lives taken to make you?
All the innocent little baby eggs killed to make you,
All the happy little grains of salt, all slaughtered to make you alive...
You are evil,
YOU ARE THE ENEMY!!!"
And the Cake realizes what he has done, and takes his punishment...
Crying all the way through until it takes it's last breath...

What'd you guys think, feedback would be appreciated

I'm not sure what to say about your poem sorry.

Here's a poem I wrote on the train. Was pretty funny to write. Hope you enjoy it.

PC Gamer Ballad

The people on the Xbox think they're so elite
No idea, mouse and keyboard just can't be beat
They're playing baby games like Modern Warfare 2
PC gamers, are the players that take them to school

You'll find me rockin' noobs with my g15
Rocket jumping all them fools like its in my genes
You think you'll finally get me with a medic pick
Newbie gamers, are the players that can suck my d---

The DPI on my mouse makes me feel alive
Unlike flesh pounds, undead who want to skin my hide
Gonna pull out all the stops with my m14
There's a trader, she's a player find them all on Steam.

Never find me playing any boring Warcraft
monthly fees always giving the poor a big shaft.
I'll just spend my time cruisin' my Audiosurf,
I'm a geek, not a freak, I just know my turf.

Been a PC gamer since I was nine
nothing but my desktop feels so divine.
Eternally obsessed, now that's a fact,
forever will it be my source of crack.
----------------------------------------
PC GAMER FOR LIFE!

nice

I feel like geeking out and trying to rap it on youtube for hilarity. We'll see if common sense gets the better of that plan.

In regards to your poem its a bit chaotic. I like poetry with a bit of structure, like with syllable scheme. Rhyming is never necessary (I just felt really inclined to do it on that poem), but I'm not sure, poetry is really freeform and no style is correct, but try telling that to certain English teachers.