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I made this because I was unable to find a topic similar to this.

Basically just post your poetry here for all you poets out there.

One of mine:

Sol Invictus
Lord of the Sky, whom light's it so blue.
Lord of the Day, who brings about the life in all things.
Lord of the Heat, whose passion burns about the heavens.
Lord of the Harvest's, whose glorious gifts we sing.

The Unconquered Sun bathes with the women of the waving waters.
The Unconquered Sun travels with the men of the wind.
The Unconquered Sun gives to the deprived of Mother Nature.
The Unconquered Son gives to the depraved of creative thought.

Sol Invictus is the Sun of the Earth.
Sol Invictus is the Companion of the Emperor.
Sol Invictus is the Destroyer of the uncertain night.
Sol Invictus is the Clarity of the weary human.

So post your poems here broski's.

I don't write poetry very often. I wrote this one years ago and I keep going back and tweaking it.

It's creepy.

Fairy Tale

Night crept into the palace.
“Come, my children.”
Night crawled beneath my door.
“Come, my children. I am waiting.”
Night swiftly overtook my bed.
“Come, my children. It is time.

“Open the door, child.”
I do not answer. They are cunning.
If we converse, they will win.
If I respond, I will lose.
Best not to admit that I am here.
I cannot hide, but can pretend.
I can pretend I am not here.
I mustn’t admit my presence here.
Not even to myself.

“Open the door. We are your friends.”
They are cunning. I must be silent.
They know I am here, but if I pretend,
I can make them doubt.
Cunning. They have learned my game.
They cease their fruitless chat.
The handle shakes. The door is locked.
They cannot enter. I am safe.
So long as the lock holds.

Then, silence. Perhaps they've gone.
But they are cunning. Mustn’t trust them.
Even their silence can tell lies.
They are still there. Best not to move.
Pretend, still, I am not here.
Stay curled on an ancient bed.
Do not shiver with the cold.
For they know that I am here.
My one hope is to make them doubt.

The silence stretches on, tempting.
Tells me to relax. Let down my guard.
Open the door, maybe, to check.
No. They are cunning. Do not move.
Best not to breathe, but breathe I must.
Just hope that it is soft.
Just hope they do not hear.
Hope to convince them, convince myself,
Convince them that I am not here.

“Please, open the door.”
A man's voice this time.
Its cadence warm, and deep, and strong.
He does not cackle, but lures me in.
They are cunning. Do not listen.
Do not move. You will lose.
“Is someone in there? Please.
“I’m frightened.” Tempting.
“I need help. Please, let me in.”

He reassures me. They are cunning.
The words seem distant. They lack meaning.
A warning, to myself, but why?
I forget. Forget the fear. A man needs help.
Who am I to deny him?
I rise from the bed. “So you are there.”
He sounds relieved. Perhaps he doubted.
“Yes, I am here.” And I’ve engaged.
Responded, and let down my guard.

“I’m going to unlock the door.”
I hear him step back, politely.
I open the door. The voice did justice.
He is the strong young man he seemed.
Perhaps he will rescue me.
Save me from the monsters.
And we will live forever, happy
In my palace, free of fear.
But not until he enters here.

I should close the door behind him.
But he walks past me, and I follow,
All my attention trained on him.
The room is dark. No moon tonight.
I have not lit a lamp, for fear.
But I can see him well enough.
He smiles, then, a charming smile.
A cunning smile, and I have fallen.
Never to climb up.

He holds out his hand to mine,
And takes me in a tight embrace.
I could not break it, if I wished.
My warning is forgotten, and my fear.
I would stay here until my death.
Well, that is true enough.
His smile ceases. “We are cunning.”
These last words, he says wistfully.
He looks beyond me, and I turn my head.

“My two sisters, and my mother.”
I see them through the doorway now.
They are cunning. I have lost.
Or, to rephrase that, they have won.
Three cackles rend the air.
One does not, belongs to him.
I cannot hide, cannot pretend.
I am here, held fast by one
Who will not rescue me.

I wish to be more brave, but I
let forth with several tears.
I cannot stay here in his arms--
This will be over all too soon.
For me, at any rate.
My cunning captor meets my gaze,
And, wordlessly, explains.
I know he bears me no ill will, but that they have a need.
And as their teeth tear into me, I scarcely feel the pain.

Well, I normally don't put poetry online, but I wrote this one for you guys, so I might as well. (Some of you might have seen it in the chat when I was whining about the essay I was writing about it.)

For New Friends

To feel we've known each other for so long,
It's strange to think how recently we met.
I would not lose, although it's stranger yet,
This team, these friends, united by a song.

The story's ended, yes; the fight's been won.
Our questions have been answered, one and all.
Our thoughts preserved and locked within a Wall
That didn't fall; we rise to greet the dawn.

Though the curtain's closing, don't despair,
Don't fear that we won't stay in touch; we will:
I hold you each and all within my heart.
And in the words we spoke, there's something there
Preserving our togetherness until
The end of time; bar that, we shall not part.

Wow, all three of those are amazing. I'm honestly surprised the winning fics for the ARG didn't contain more poetry.

Qara, I will never stop loving that poem. I have it written down in my favourite notebook.

A short non-poem I created for someone special to me and decided to share with you. Poetry isn't my thing and I can't rhyme worth crap, but hey, sue me.

So here I am
Writing this poem on Valentine’s day
A poem to a sweet girl whom I love
But what makes this day different from any other?
Isn’t today the same as yesterday or the one after?
The day of the year doesn’t affect my love
Nor do I believe that it affects yours
So why does this day make any difference
It is because this day has been set aside to honor love
The day doesn’t change our feelings but it allows us to express them
It is a day to let love flow in one form or the other
It is because of this day that I write this poem
To tell you how my heart soars when you say my name
To let you know that my life is black and cruel when I am unable to speak to you
To inform you that no matter what happens in life your smile brings me back
Back from darkness and despair
Back from the evil in my own heart which is banished with a simple smile
I could continue on and compare you to the sun and moon
But other men have sadly used that to death
So I will follow my own heart and end with an ever simple yet true
I love you

Something I came up with while thinking about Chain Wars. Nothing fancy, nothing to see, really.

The story of Alice now I tell,
From Under to Over, up she fell.
Chasing Rabbit, always late,
Perhaps, maybe, it was her fate.
The liar Cat it grinned,
Grinned and vanishing,-
--------------------------- {Hatter with his jokes did whirl}
----------------------------- {Whirl, collapsible, and twirl}
--------------------------{Teatime sipped with Hare in March}
------------------------------{Anger, their mutual crutch}
----------------------------{Vorpal Knight, Vorpal Blade thin}
-------------------------- -spinned.
So the story of Alice goes,
And over it all, a single rose.

Nothing beats a
Homemade pizza

Butterflies
Flutter by.

narrativedilettante wrote:Butterflies
Flutter by.

Why do they flutter by?

Scarab wrote:

narrativedilettante wrote:Butterflies
Flutter by.

Why do they flutter by?

Knows not I.
Do you know why?

narrativedilettante wrote:Knows not I.
Do you know why?

Nor I
Mayhaps ask Eli?

Two line poems suck
Too quick and short to say much
Haiku is better

Krika wrote:Two line poems suck
Too quick and short to say much
Haiku is better

Had you a day job
then my dearest metaguard
You should not quit it

I'd like to present
A limerick to you ALL
Alas, I can not

Scarab wrote:
Had you a day job
then my dearest metaguard
You should not quit it

How rude can one be
Kirka's effort was sincere
Rude Scarab is rude

Guyshane wrote:

Scarab wrote:
Had you a day job
then my dearest metaguard
You should not quit it

How rude can one be
Kirka's effort was sincere
Rude Scarab is rude

Scarab may be true
However, difficult task
Without a day job

Krika wrote:Scarab may be true
However, difficult task
Without a day job

I know the feeling
Well, I'm not entirely broke
But more work would help

I am so lucky.
My family still funds me.
For I have saved up.

He who hold rock have tired hand.

People always ask
Always from the beginning
Chick-Fil-A is here

Desire a spectrum
Color swirling through the ice
No rainbow for you

Sun is inching down
Fan blowing air back and forth
It is rather hot

Over the rainbow
Tasting all of the colors
Snow cone or Skittles?

Chicken dinners gone
Snow cones extending the lines
It is a good haul

Red White Black Yellow
Scythe-gun, sword, gun-blade, gauntlets
Guess the reference?

Churning water churns
The hidden sun lowers heat
Redundant phrasing

One two three four five
Number of beats in that line
The end is meta

Um, wrote this recently. Could I get some feedback?

-

The rink was empty, just
You and
Me. My lamprey, my
Sugarplum fairy, sharp
teeth glinting in glaring floodlights,
circular grin and the chewing of our
blades, eating cold lines
above the silhouetted waters,
rink half-melted, danger signs
and we circled
each other, round
and round and back
again.
And by tracing it twice
we fell through the ice.
An empty rink,
No you,
No me.

You are a beautiful poet. Lots of nice alliteration going on there. I might move a couple of lines about a bit, to improve the structure if I were you, but mostly, this is a lovely piece.

It's haunting and disconcerting and lovely, Agora.

Of all people in the forum, who would guess I would be the one to dig this topic up...

One is always one.

º

Perhaps not always alone...

º º

But never in complete unity.

...

Memories are frail, they flicker and wane.

?

And that which is moves ever forward.

~

Sinuous as though the path may be,
leisure is not always a given.
And the path to the past?
What does anyone know of it?
To be known, one must be one.

º

So tell me, one who is one...

º

What's to be of you?

You and Me

I spend every moment of life
Waiting, watching, searching,
Trying to find You
You, who make me complete.

I spend hours at night
Thinking, Wondering, Dreaming
Of You and all that you are
And what We will be when I meet You

I imagine running toward You
Heart held in my hand
Given freely to you
For what use is it to me?

It hurts every moment We are away
If for no other reason than I feel You
Somewhere, waiting, watching, searching
Looking for Me as I search for You.

I will wait out this hours without You
Hold Myself up and keep strong
Soldier on and on and on
Just for the chance to pass You on the street.

I am not naive enough to believe
That You and I will ever meet
But just the chance to feel you are close
Is enough to continue on.

For that one moment in time
I would trade away all of the rest
Every last single bit
Just for that.

Maybe its wrong to feel that way
One might even think Me insane
But I am sure You understand
After all You probably feel the same.

So heres to one more sleepless night
Heres to the time between Us
Heres to the dream that will no doubt be of You
And of course heres to You, the love for which I await.

I await.