Poetry Corner

Noodl

I build space
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I didn't see one of these anywhere, so I decided to make it c:
I write things from time to time, and I like to see what others write, so share your soul with me.
I'll open up with something small.


Walking down the street late at night
The phantom beckons yet again
And I just stare in wonder
Why? Here?

A single street light illuminates the shadow
It holds its hand out
Trying to help?
Trying to hurt?

A familiar smile crawls across its face
And it touches me
I step back, contemplating the strange temptation
Just once more.

I reach out in turn
Its smile fades
I take the hand
The street light shudders

The night blooms
 
Divine Roulette


Release me, no, don’t release!
Say our love is true, not a whim.
I see the sun waning in the west
mournfully setting on our utopian jest.
We are a fairy-tale that does not belong-
a mockery plot you’ve known all along.
And now from my life you fade,
Leaving me in the tomb you made.

Such is your elegance unsurpassed
for which many a lonesome heart is cast.
Your eyes are storms where men can drown
to hold up your peerless, stately crown.
My angel, what are you? my dark-haired swan
who greets the night but not our dawn.
In infinite hope, I judged not of you
until I turned aside, and away you flew.

Did I have a chance?
or was I ever a fool to hope..
Your hardened face is a chilling lie
perhaps masking an inner sigh?
Yes, a fool to hope, I wish I’d known
that for your errors you never atone.
Blinded was I, but the wiser yet
to have survived your divine roulette.
 
Hello Ephinea, I wrote a poem about PSOBB Ephinea, hope you like it:

Start my SNS combo
Dob isn't sphered
Who is this FO
Jellen focused

Level 83 HUcast
DF HP, 150 ATA
No Zalure cast
This isn't TA

Slowly I can see
That I stand no chance
Blaming DMC
I'm dead, you dance
 
welcome, I'd like to greet my peoples
been taking records for years
brought my competition to tears
still dunno anything about the prequels

my friends are all elitists jerks
swinging clubs and ck dreaming
crying about dmc and their network
failing and "early" screaming

I once met revs mother
I gave her 100hits
then I opened item maker
I gave me 100hits

good morning ephinea
no reason to introduce myself,
look it up on your book shelfs
im the gorilla player
 
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Young son growing up, mastered new math
Played PSOBB, and discovered my newhalf
I only play FO, cause I can't aim
So many changes, soon we'll have inferno claw
But I still can't change my character name
The only thing more ironic would be
Susan Collins getting raped by Brett Kavanaugh
 
I'll have to jump on the train of PSO poems.
*write write*
 
I am afraid of the dark
The inability to see
The unknown that could be
Standing in front of me

I am afraid of heights
It just feels too far
Especially if I fall
And I don’t die

I am afraid of being alone
No one caring
No one knowing
No one showing me love

I am afraid of pain
The burning, searing feeling
The hole in the heart
The tearing of skin

I am afraid of running out of time
Not doing all I wanted to
So many regrets
What did I live for?

I am afraid of losing my loved ones
Watching them go
Again
Being left alone

But I don’t run.
Without fear there is no bravery
Without bravery there is no fight
Without fighting you can only lose

So I reach into the darkness
I stare down the cliff
I enjoy my own silence
I bite down on my lip
I don’t look back
And I appreciate every moment
That I was lucky enough to have
Spent with you
 
I didn't see one of these anywhere, so I decided to make it c:
I write things from time to time, and I like to see what others write, so share your soul with me.
I'll open up with something small.


Walking down the street late at night
The phantom beckons yet again
And I just stare in wonder
Why? Here?

A single street light illuminates the shadow
It holds its hand out
Trying to help?
Trying to hurt?

A familiar smile crawls across its face
And it touches me
I step back, contemplating the strange temptation
Just once more.

I reach out in turn
Its smile fades
I take the hand
The street light shudders

The night blooms
I didn't see one of these anywhere, so I decided to make it c:
I write things from time to time, and I like to see what others write, so share your soul with me.
I'll open up with something small.


Walking down the street late at night
The phantom beckons yet again
And I just stare in wonder
Why? Here?

A single street light illuminates the shadow
It holds its hand out
Trying to help?
Trying to hurt?

A familiar smile crawls across its face
And it touches me
I step back, contemplating the strange temptation
Just once more.

I reach out in turn
Its smile fades
I take the hand
The street light shudders

The night blooms
Ummmm....It was here Dear.... https://www.pioneer2.net/community/threads/pso-poet-society.606/ <3!
 
Let me paint you the picture of a child beaten and broken as much as his home
No one to turn to, nowhere to go
Mother stuck in the bottom of a bottle
Father angry about the way he looks
Feels
Sees
Acts
Talks
Thinks
Nothing ever good enough
Backhand the answer
Still not good enough
How about a bloody nose?

Laying on the floor as the kicks roll in
One by one
Screaming, wishing he wasn’t alive.
Flying down the hallway
Landing against the wall
Across the room
Into the bookshelf
Pants soaked with piss
Blood running down his face
Unable to focus, what just happened?
Left alone to be a disgrace.

Running won’t help
Nowhere to go
Moving every couple years
No friends to call his own

School failing, life fading
Nothing to care about anymore
Two younger siblings, blind to it all
They mustn't know what’s behind the door

17 years of age.
Runs away from home
Gone for 3 days
Mother turns up on a phone

“Come home” she pleads
“Everything will be fine.”
“Your father is at work.”
“Come home.”

Afraid, but wanting to be
He decides to do it.
New friend brings him home
Walks him to the door
Knock Knock
Mother answers
“Welcome home son, come in you’re safe.”
Inside, door closes.
Father was right behind the door
The blows come before he knows it
The rest is hazy, but it didn’t end well.

It isn’t all bad. He manages to escape.
Joins the military.
Mother goes into rehab
Divorce

But he’s left with a flinch.
He won’t look you in the eye.
He doesn’t think quite straight
Nothing is ever good enough
15 years later
Nothing is ever good enough
He can’t talk to people.
He can’t sleep at night.
Anxiety is a destructive whirlwind
Nightmares still continue
Medicine doesn’t help
Doctors don’t listen

What to do, oh, what to do.
 
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Fear of Wrongful Good


When I was 28, still didn't know what I was made of
So I gathered all my hate and traded it for love
It was hard at the start and I couldn't catch my breath
But felt better than it did to be a step ahead of death

And love gave way to another type of pain
One that saved me from the constant need to gain
Every single inch that I possibly could steal
And newly, it truly let me learn to feel

While devils pray in the darkness in vain
Angels play with the heartless in pain
There is only one use I see
For every single untruth we bleed

So far out there in the thick mist of the lost
I can feel it turning from the sickness of frost
From something undead to something unsaid
While burning leaves fall instead of the cost

I am happy, I am sane, I am anything but tame
I am startled, I'm aggressive, I am anything but ashamed
Twilight dwindles on these sweet plains
I'm only frightened by those we've slain
 
Just a little something i came up with:

How do i hate myself
Let me count the ways
Something i said
Resonated for days
But then from the forest
A voice recording in many grays:
A slice of love will show you the way
My way of showing that here you will stay
 
roses are red, violets are blue
FqY7RKM.png


but actually here's a haiku i just wrote quickly:

am i good enough?
maybe i am, maybe not
but i still like me.
 
This is a bit of an environmental extraction from my teen years growing up in a small, mountain-side city, just across a river border from one of the biggest, most ostentatious cities in Oregon.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Old Summers

Beauty and warmth in the late summer's breeze
Trails of stories paint the hummingbird's trees
The frosty mountain range dies every night
The lost men of the streets lie for just one bite

Beauty in the fierce eyes of surviving ally cats
Dancing deceased flowers surround the runway flats
Waterfront antics still lingering in the sunset
Long days of juvenile glory dangle over modern debt

Beauty of the crashing waves upon a river's island
Frogs and snakes make no mistakes while children chase their brand
Cheap hypes and songs in our parent's garages
And all the wrongs beyond us now mirages
 
This is what happens when you're depressed and want to make everything rhyme:
ººººººººººººººººººººººººººººººººººººººººººº

The Lost Art of Losing

It's the study of a moral
In the process of its quarrel
By the time it's had its start
It's already burned apart
On the snout of a thousand foot high gargoyle
Even winter rain drops come to a slow boil
It can't last long but still longs to last
And for a song of past dances
It acts as a cancer of good chances
And still it can soil all these fancies all but royalties
And whether carried in it
Or rather buried with it
It's, perhaps, rarely unfair
But when compared instead of shared
It's the naps which are unfairly rare
And so we aren't spared of all dares
As lights dim, dreams brighten
And senses heighten on a whim
But truly frightened we are not
And so newly the fighting has not gotten
Any sweeter or any less rotten
How many times will we have forgotten?
How many times before we're forgotten?
 
And so is this:

Still Will

Loving winter warmth in old cold-cast hearts
Wise evening tongues taste the less clever days
A requiem of solace for the buried restarts
Every dying light is wanted even from ash trays

Silver sheens on water's face above the drowning grace
Sucked below by twisting current in the midnight glow
It's sickening how finicky all nature runs in place
But vast and placid are the acres of the killing snow
And all the bridges in between are nifty with their base

A delicate diary of untold folds so fiery
By a bold liar eerily molded for the direly
All in whole we're here for the wire to be freed
With gold souls we peer past the mass greed
 
Roses are red
Violets are blue
He feet to big for he god damn shoe
 
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