#fleet - Hello Poetry

Read Listen Learn, Study Watch Predict, predict, predict, Do As You Wish, Songs were on the low-fi, We would listen all night, Lose Lament Cry, Toil Despair Try, try, try,try, try Do As You Wish... In the Time of Creation, But there, for the love of God go I, Songs were on the low-fi, We would choose the most high.

0

Sep 3, 2024

Sep 3, 2024 at 3:01 PM UTC

torin

For The Love Of

Read Listen Learn, Study Watch Predict, predict, predict, Do As You Wish, Songs were on the low-fi, We would listen all night, Lose Lament Cry, Toil Despair Try, try, try,try, try Do As You Wish... In the Time of Creation, But there, for the love of God go I, Songs were on the low-fi, We would choose the most high.

26

I try to defy my mental block, I scrape my head, becoming harsher on myself as I force emotions to be penned into words. But all what comes is incoherent, inadequate, dots and strokes. The words are fleeting, they've lost their meaning. Out of synch, out of thought, out of ink. Writer's block, is where I sink.

0

Jul 24, 2019

Jul 24, 2019 at 5:06 PM UTC

SabilaSiddiqui

Writer's Block

I try to defy my mental block, I scrape my head, becoming harsher on myself as I force emotions to be penned into words. But all what comes is incoherent, inadequate, dots and strokes. The words are fleeting, they've lost their meaning. Out of synch, out of thought, out of ink. Writer's block, is where I sink.

15

write a poem. its been two long years and i fear I don't even know what a poem is. i fear i've never even written one. i look back at my fleet and i see forced words prematurely picked from their fields. ****** into the arena as dogs with their tails glued to their thighs. i fear i have succeeded at preparing a dish of underdeveloped corpses.

0

Sep 9, 2017

Sep 9, 2017 at 9:01 PM UTC

topacio

the subject says

write a poem. its been two long years and i fear I don't even know what a poem is. i fear i've never even written one. i look back at my fleet and i see forced words prematurely picked from their fields. ****** into the arena as dogs with their tails glued to their thighs. i fear i have succeeded at preparing a dish of underdeveloped corpses.

12

All I want, though, is to be a part of a disaccharide, and never dissolve. Someone I can grow old with, share a bench under the Space Needle, take photographs of me when I'm not looking. I don't want to be old news to them. I want to be the newspaper they pick up every day, read my stories, and know tomorrow will still happen, there will still be more stories to read. I would very much like to be in someone's life the way I wish for someone to be in mine. I don't want to spend my whole life searching, chasing, waiting for you.

0

Feb 22, 2016

Feb 22, 2016 at 3:03 PM UTC

e-townsend

I Was Old News to You Then

All I want, though, is to be a part of a disaccharide, and never dissolve. Someone I can grow old with, share a bench under the Space Needle, take photographs of me when I'm not looking. I don't want to be old news to them. I want to be the newspaper they pick up every day, read my stories, and know tomorrow will still happen, there will still be more stories to read. I would very much like to be in someone's life the way I wish for someone to be in mine. I don't want to spend my whole life searching, chasing, waiting for you.

2

Dashing hither, dashing thither, Dashing in the winter weather, John the dashing haberdasher Dashed a hat upon his head Not some lace cap fit for ladies, Nor a bonnet stitched for babies, John the dashing haberdasher Dashed a top hat there instead! Never had a hat so fine, So tall and silken, so refined, Regaled upon the daily grind Of prince or pauper in the Strand Ladies stalled to see it's lustre, Swooned and swayed before it's bluster, Fell and fainted in a fluster, Startled by a hat so grand! Children screamed in dreadful fright And yelping dogs began to bite As crowds began to brawl and fight And riots claimed the London street In the chaos thus ensuing, Folks began to run, pursuing John the dashing haberdasher Chasing him from Strand to Fleet! John was taken to the prison, Chided by the crowds derision, There to wait the Mayor's decision On his wanton heinous crime Charged with breaching lawful peace, He paid a fine for his release And ordered to desist and cease, He left his top hat well behind Thus is told the tale of John Who dared to bravely dash and don A silken top hat high upon His noble head in London town Heed his tale and take this warning, When you wake one winter morning With desire to be less boring, Careful how you dress that crown!

0

Jan 14, 2015

Jan 14, 2015 at 2:21 PM UTC

tryst

John's Tall Tale

Dashing hither, dashing thither, Dashing in the winter weather, John the dashing haberdasher Dashed a hat upon his head Not some lace cap fit for ladies, Nor a bonnet stitched for babies, John the dashing haberdasher Dashed a top hat there instead! Never had a hat so fine, So tall and silken, so refined, Regaled upon the daily grind Of prince or pauper in the Strand Ladies stalled to see it's lustre, Swooned and swayed before it's bluster, Fell and fainted in a fluster, Startled by a hat so grand! Children screamed in dreadful fright And yelping dogs began to bite As crowds began to brawl and fight And riots claimed the London street In the chaos thus ensuing, Folks began to run, pursuing John the dashing haberdasher Chasing him from Strand to Fleet! John was taken to the prison, Chided by the crowds derision, There to wait the Mayor's decision On his wanton heinous crime Charged with breaching lawful peace, He paid a fine for his release And ordered to desist and cease, He left his top hat well behind Thus is told the tale of John Who dared to bravely dash and don A silken top hat high upon His noble head in London town Heed his tale and take this warning, When you wake one winter morning With desire to be less boring, Careful how you dress that crown!

40

The wind and the rain have conceded defeat, No longer do they prevail, And the splashing of water on the decks of the fleet, Gives way to let them sail. The sea is calm as the searching begins, The convoy ventures out, They guard the vessel of hope's lost twin, Desperately protecting doubt. But humanity's ships soon rest beneath the waves, As their journey comes to its end, Though they survived a thousand close shaves, This time they couldn't defend. The attackers, having dealt with the bodyguards, Turn to eliminate their goal, They prepare their canons and begin to bombard, The boat that burns the soul. Who are they that they are able to destroy, a fundamental part of our lives? They carry the flag of truth and joy, Both thought to have died. With a final barrage ambiguity falls, Never to rise again, From its ashes a humanity of confidence is born, That will never be constrained.

0

Dec 27, 2014

Dec 27, 2014 at 12:11 PM UTC

parsavagely-kompenere

False Hope

The wind and the rain have conceded defeat, No longer do they prevail, And the splashing of water on the decks of the fleet, Gives way to let them sail. The sea is calm as the searching begins, The convoy ventures out, They guard the vessel of hope's lost twin, Desperately protecting doubt. But humanity's ships soon rest beneath the waves, As their journey comes to its end, Though they survived a thousand close shaves, This time they couldn't defend. The attackers, having dealt with the bodyguards, Turn to eliminate their goal, They prepare their canons and begin to bombard, The boat that burns the soul. Who are they that they are able to destroy, a fundamental part of our lives? They carry the flag of truth and joy, Both thought to have died. With a final barrage ambiguity falls, Never to rise again, From its ashes a humanity of confidence is born, That will never be constrained.

24