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Vic Sep 2019
Tja, ik probeer wel nederlands te schrijven,
God weet dat ik het niet kan.
Ik ga niet nog een ******* boek lezen,
Dus we maken er het beste van.

Eerst moet je bedenken wat je überhaupt gaat schrijven.
Geen idee, niet dat ik ooit goeie ideeën heb.
Dus dan gaan we maar weer rijmen,
Alsof het van een rijmwebsite komt, het is haast "nep"

Als je dan eindelijk inspiratie hebt,
*** ga je het dan verwoorden?
Nederlands is gewoon een kuttaal.
Rens, ik ga je op een dag echt nog vermoorden (misschien)

En nu is het klaar met die kutrijmpjes,
Het werkt alleen maar in het Engels.
Ik wilde een rijmwoord bedenken,
Het eerste dat in me opkwam was "soepstengels"

Help lol
You "challenged" me to write a Dutch poem, so I did. It's a happy poem too. Maybe I'll translate it sometime.
Jayantee Khare Sep 2019
an eternal search
a perpetual urge
a deep inner sigh
subsequent to a "high".

a low-key loner
once flew higher
the flaring fire
of an unfeterred desire.

here i roam
to find my home
a key to sire
peace before the pyre.

an unknown quest 
the soul, yearning to rest
searching for the path best,
life's an endless test!!
मेरी रूह का परिंदा फड़फड़ाये.......
ChrisYellow Sep 2019
Oh, treacherous pull of endless floor
under our light inconsequential trample,
in equal measure, the feather is won
cursed by thee, to its inevitable fall.

Thy naked invisible attraction
sways the seas in moonlight dates,
holds north and south feet kissin',
and has us visiting the sun from west!

Force that collects from all distance
a grip the scale takes the measure,
I miss ye largely drifting in space.

Ye are a tango between bodies,
from a bang that predates time,
sculpting atomic dust into planets.
Ifa Agnes Aug 2019
Yes, I am angry and I have anger,
Burning inside me, like an amber,
You can also get injured by it,
So, better you stay away from me.

Neither I intended someone to suffer,
From mine fatal disease,
Nor, I did it; Cause I had been
Storing Grudge inside me.

But people never stop Making talk;
I am a ***** And many more.
Well, I was aware of everything,
Like what I was made and what I am being.

Nothing mattered me now more or least,
And I didn't wanna be a beast,
Everyone called, I heard silently,
Cause I am aware of my animality.

Neither I was alike it,
Nor I had become a bit,
Situation - Suffering made me rough,
But there exists humanity though.

I was same as a common girl,
Had a tolerating power pearl,
Abide everything like other,
But Not I had fortune further.

I had to rant and rave,
Every time I faced a deprave,
Made of injustice and wrong,
That only I had borne for long.

Tolerating was, I doing all times,
But with the hostility of my prime,
Make my abstinence of long,
Turn into dust, Oh! My song.

And then my emotions and me,
Aren't in control for a second, see,
I say, then, the truth of my heart,
Had felt, with words that worth.

And what I spoke then,
Is not all wrong; when,
You start first; And my defense,
It becomes for every one wrong.

Truth is truth, it will flow one day,
Let me a bad person for someday,
You will be hero, for sure then,
God knows everything; So, have some same.

My anger is wrong I know,
But what you have done till isn't an evil show?
Leave it, I don't wanna discuss more,
Stupid fiend, in disguise of a friend, you are a sore.


So, Yes, I am Angry and I have Anger,
Burning inside me, like an amber,
You can also get injured by it,
So, better you stay away from me.

Written by
Ifa Agnes
A Henslo Jul 2019
VERS VOOR EEN PERS

De hemelzangers trekken allemaal
Naar de groene velden van Frankendael.
Onder de struiken bestaat geen rust
Voor het suffe brein, de sterke lust
En de schielijke ogen van Pluizenbaal.
Er is geen bevrijding zonder lijden.
O wanneer is het knarsend hart moe?
Wanneer geeft de krakende zetel toe?
Moet deze zomerdag echt verscheiden?
Wanneer zal de tijd voorgoed verglijden?
English Dutch transposition A. Henslo 2017
Original poem by T.S. Eliot 1932

LINES TO A PERSIAN CAT

The songsters of the air repair
To the green fields of Russell Square
Beneath the trees there is no ease
For the dull brain, the sharp desires
And the quick eyes of Woolly Bear.
There is no relief but in grief.
O when will the creaking heart cease?
When will the broken chair give ease?
Why will the summer day decay?
When will Time flow away?
Kaede Jul 2019
Standing alone,
strangers stared at me.
Confused of what to buy,
my heart is starting to get heavy.

Keep on walking,
as if something is going on.
But my mind wanders,
it is not in its right rhythm or tone.

Until I felt getting exhausted,
for no apparent reason.
I am not certain,
if I should really buy some crayons.

Twenty minutes later,
I have not chosen  anything.
Thirty minutes later,
I did not see any shadows of you coming.

I ran outside  the mall,
Someone called my nickname.
I stopped for a moment,
but only to feel tame.

Standing alone,
strangers stared at me.
Confused of what to feel,
my eyes burst into tears my baby.
I wrote this one seven months ago. We went to National Book Store together but he left me there, alone, because one of our friends asked him to accompany him. I was sad at that time but it wasn't because he left me there when we were supposed to go home together. After writing this poem in that night, I was happy. Weird ***** happened to me last year so whatever, even until now, weird ***** are still happening. HAHAHAHAHA
wizmorrison Jun 2019
Physically close—
Hand to hand,
Eye to eye,
Nose to nose—
Bad breath to bad breath.
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