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Impromptu poetry!

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Zero King

Zero King

    Fried Potato

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Let the sun in

let the shadows out of your heart

feel the light graze your skin

look out into the world

with a smile

stand tall with conviction

Believe with all your might

forget hope it's just a word we use to escape reality

only you can make your life as you want it to be

today is the time for you to shine

grasp what you want and say mine

hold it close to your chest and never let go

but never close your hands to another 

remember to be the difference

do not deny another of the dream you fought to accomplish

instead, be the guiding light for them

so they can pass the torch down to the next

spread happiness not hate, peace and love my friend

wealth is only for a moment, happiness can be everlasting

Edited by Zero King, 13 January 2016 - 05:46 AM.



    Couch Potato

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I can't set myself on fire to take you out of one

I have life to live, so do you

It is not me who can't decide

It is you, who isn't ready to quit


I wish I was the rain to come down upon your fire

I wish you would also enjoy to dance under it

I wish you'd finally find your way out of that fire

While I was scattered and washed away with the dirt on the ground...


Did I hear your call?

Was it you who said "I'm here, hold me"

Or was it my imagination because I desperately love you

Yet might it be my remorse that I can't set myself on fire


I'll die with you too

It'll be a blaze that'll consume whole universe with my fire

Because I couldn't save you...

Because you didn't want me to~



I don't remember I wrote a poem before~ especially in English...

It may calm my inner fire~ before it actually sets me on fire~


Please be gentle with comments~ 

Edited by Saint Potato, 23 January 2016 - 02:40 AM.

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    Couch Potato

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Can't you see, I'm a shape shifter...

Earth can stand strong in its ground

Yet air would be stall and smelly

Maybe Love of Air and Earth isn't meant to be~

impromt poem <:

new one~

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Said goodbye on a Monday
To come back tomorrow again
Said goodbye on a Wednesday
Trying to comfort those who remain

Too soon for us who were guided
Too sudden for all of us here
That when the shock of the news subsided
We could do nothing but huddle and weep

Never again will we see your smile
Waving at you while you're in your office
While you wait for the rest of us to compile
All the test papers and grading sheets you needed

All the times we made your head ache
You were still our gentle hand of comfort
Even through all our mistakes
You were a beacon of hope, brighter than the sun

Said goodbye on a Monday, goodbye on a Wednesday
With tears in our eyes and you in our hearts
And by the time we say our goodbye on Saturday
We will say thank you, we'll see you again.


Ha. Welp. It's been a rough week.

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    Couch Potato

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here are four epigrams i wrote for a fiction/poetry class i took last semester. (epigrams are basically poems that only have a couple of lines, or a little bit more.)


The End


Five men in a wooden boat,

Five bangs, and the boat is empty.




Death is like a worn-out beaver dam,

A comparison made just for this epigram.


The Fight


The door slams shut behind me,

And the stairs tell me the answer.


On Reciprocated Love


The world sings to me,

And I respond in kind.

Since the world has sung to me,

It must also be blind.



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Here's one I wrote yesterday just for fun. I haven't written poetry like this in 4 years, so hopefully it's okay. 


Crystal Caverns

Another night had graced this grove,

Secluded, expanding beyond the realm,

And now begins to grow again;


Another hole has surface broke:

One of many, but one of substance, not

Capable of bearing less fruit.


The wall is ruptured; many men

Swarm its halls, bathed in swimming ribbons of

Luminescence, gazing in awe:


A single shard hangs from above,

Dripping with glassy moisture, like melted

Refined ice, glist’ning in silence;


Light’s thin hands unveil the sacred

Cavern, shimmering with crystal

Flowers, moondrops, and patterned shards:


Solid streams of purity wind

Throughout palaces of colour and strength,

Reaching out with spindly branches.


Now, extending into the sky,

Flowers and soft shards, sparkling in true light,

Cloak the landscape, dripping Moon’s tear;


And that river stretched its tendrils,

Until even nine-mouthed Styx’s delta

Could not compete with true power.


Yet another world comes to mind,

Belonging to neither yours, his, nor mine,

Whose secrets lie as yet uncovered. 



    Baked Potato

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There is more to this, but I would want to go through it and edit it. So I'm just posting the very first part, which stands just fine on its own.


Lost, lost

Lost lost--again,


How does one become found?

Because I know too well how one is lost.

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In life we find twelve joys, each one mark on the clock,

We start with noon, gazing out from a white marble dock

Unto the sea, upon a giant, jagged, blinding rock

Of steel and glass, glinting under the midday sun.


As the sunlight shifts, a shadow looms over the sky,

From the distant horizon, great sullen ships fly,

At first glance benevolent, but we soon hear a cry

Followed by more, and from the rain we run.


The bell tolls three, and the stars strike land,

Leaving naught but fires burning in the molten sand,

Great needles topple, like children hand-in-hand,

Ring-a-ring o' roses, the final strike is done.


Rays of orange sear the angry spires of smoke,

They cool to black, and all the fortunate folk

Too afraid to laugh at God's most heartless joke,

Find peace in each other, in becoming one.


Darkness cloaks the world, and chokes out all light,

Leaving those remaining to succumb to the night,

But in adversity they finally find the will to fight

Against the odds, against a former home undone.


Under cover of obscurity they commit to their toil,

They cool their blood that once so longed to boil,

Conjuring compassion from hate, order from turmoil,

'Til the rooster crowed, and their right to day was won.


From the shadows they emerge, riding steeds of steel,

Armed with spears of scorching fire, a vision so real

That their foes can not but marvel and bend down to kneel

As all their heads are taken, each and every one.


Morning beckons, and so too do those who were lost,

They paid the price of freedom, their lives the only cost,

And now they gather at the hollow bridge they crossed,

Then say, "You're home, my pride, my dearest son."


The hands inch towards the long-sought-after noon,

Our job is done, our time too shall come soon.


We hear the chime, and lay down to rest,

Too long have our wills been put to the test.


The voices grow stronger, the lights grow stronger.


In time, we shall rise again.

Edited by Viscoun, 24 September 2016 - 11:20 PM.



    Baked Potato

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Poetry will never

the true depth of
my feelings.

Words can never

the lasting of
my feelings.

Some days
and nights

can never be

I will always be the villain
in the story

あっ ちょっと死んじまった