"warcraft" poems
SELFISH!
SELFISH!
SELFISH!
My love,
what is your schedule like tomorrow?
do you have time to say "i love you"?
do you have time to get my birthday presents?
to remember it's our anniversary?
My love,
is it too much trouble
to step away from the television?
I know you love your re-runs,
but I can be entertaining too
My love,
did you forget?
when you thought I was beautiful?
when you appreciated me?
when you wanted to make me smile?
My love,
wouldn't you agree?
that no one has ever given you as much as me?
that my happiness is just as important as yours?
that I at least deserve your honesty?
My love,
I'm sure you're right
facebook, sportscenter, warcraft, television
they deserve your time and attention
after all, I am only comfortable and convenient
My love,
Don't worry
I understand
we all need a warm body
to use when we need a hand.
Dec 18, 2012
Dec 18, 2012 at 7:09 PM UTC
I am a teenage girl
I don't go outside much
But I workout
I teach myself in online courses
I spend a lot of time on World of Warcraft
I'm in love with someone much older than me
I feel like I've known him for a 3 lifetimes, not just 3 years
I believe the human spirit is a powerful thing made of light and darkness
I'm a submissive at heart
And I believe in true love
So that's me.
Nov 17, 2014
Nov 17, 2014 at 4:18 PM UTC
Annapolis (DDH 265)
decommissioned warcraft
clean severed lines
steam gusts belt
from a cavernous shell
the ghost ship settles
on a drift ridge
perfect tide rhythm
on a salt washed shore
calming nuance
in passive time
*weaving through
channels and crest waves*
white sands warming
at a high point
beyond the breakers
and porteau pins
gazers and dreamers
(and sleepy fiords)
rest softly up the straight
froth folds skim and linger
on the wide eyed
wanderers of the sound
cove seals settle
at the inlet
their symphonies
backing on the
bowen brigade
ripples and
patch makers
hold sheets to the wind
markgraf lines
find electric blue sky
stealth shadows
haunt the seascape
the dragon fly hovers
in fits and starts
Jun 11, 2017
Jun 11, 2017 at 11:15 AM UTC
She approached me
Tiptoeing from across the room,
Although no one was asleep around us to wake;
I watched her lower lip bleed
From biting too much,
As she deciphers the DNA codes on her hair
With her fingertips,
Stroking the life out of it
Up and down-
And up and down again.
She said don’t get me wrong
But I found myself;
I found myself lurking underneath the light of your words
Bending with your o’s and standing straight with your I’s,
Because I
Got lost;
I got lost in the stories you wrote
About the girls who broke
And they felt just like me-
Dazed
By the love poems you cried down for her,
And I wondered how beautiful she must be.
I got flustered
In the blank spaces
That you chose not to write in,
And it felt like I should cut parts of myself
And add them in the vacancies
But I just don’t know what to add.
For every time I rest my soul
On the tip of a pen
I feel like I’ve said too much,
And every time I scratch my words
Throw away my being
Behind
Unread books and dusty light stands
I believe I haven’t said enough
For I could give more,
Be more,
If only I could start over,
And you
You seem to know me more than I know myself;
You have built bridges
Out of my paper shreds,
Tunnels out of my unexpressed thoughts-
You have created your haven inside my brains
And settled down in my heart.
You’ve managed to make me chew your words
Like breakfast
Was a poetic meal to be served
At all times of the day;
You’re an image,
I re-create you in my mind
Before I sleep
After asleep
And even during I sleep-
The thoughts of you never quit my head
Like a gamer would never quit
A game of Warcraft
In the midst of hunting season”
She took off her glasses,
And I could see the marks of them
Being there for too long.
She closes her eyes
As if she was about to take a leap of faith,
But instead she leaped two steps into my arms
And that was when
I got to ask her
What her name was.
And that was when I realized
It didn’t even matter.
May 26, 2014
May 26, 2014 at 4:43 PM UTC
the world is a stage
but here i am the critic
a cold beer and smile.
life is quite easy
written in english haiku
we're not symbolic.
it feels like summer
but only inside my thoughts
i think i'll skip class.
it all dies right here
responsibility loss
**** i hate that word.
i mean it has like
six syllables in one word
**** ******* haikus.
but you know they're fun
easy to write and polish
polish, not polish.
so i'm skipping class
seriously, what the ****
am i doing now?
absolutely squat.
i'm missing a test right now
crap i ******* ****
but i did a test
in communications though,
which isn't bio.
i think i'm going
to go play world of warcraft
and worry later.
Feb 7, 2011
Feb 7, 2011 at 8:15 AM UTC
There you are, just minding your own business.
Looking through the different comic books neatly placed in the corner of our favorite bookstore.
You pick one up and I see a faint smile painted over your lips.
Hay, what a sight.
You look engrossed by the Warcraft comic book you found.
It was as if you were in another dimension.
Admiring and just looking at you in a distance, I am engulfed by a weird feeling.
Weird - since it was a new one but at the same time familiar.
It was a recognition of something I missed feeling;
Something I thought I convinced myself I would no longer feel;
It was happiness.
I swear, I can just look at you like this for hours.
I wouldn't mind the days and nights passing by.
But seeing how perfect you are just scanning over the pages of the book you found, I couldn't resist taking a picture - the only thing I can ever do to preserve the moment.
God, you are beautiful.
Jun 19, 2016
Jun 19, 2016 at 10:25 PM UTC
Today, I want to sink my chest into yours.
Your heart pumping blood through my veins for a bit, mine doesn't want to anymore.
Let's trade.
I'll put my brain on ice.
Wash this skull cavity with some minty fresh chemical while my wrinkled pink mother board discovers cryogenics.
When I place it back Into my tingly, almost numb now, chemical washed head
I will still feel heavy.
I want to turn to a whisp.
Like the Night Elves in World of Warcraft.
A floating blue orb of energy
Just a spirit, weightless.
Let me live as electricity, like that spark you felt .
Like that spark they all felt.
Place me in the power lines so I can power houselights and televisions.
Let me be usefull for something again.
Don't convert my head though.
Keep that on Ice.
Better still, creamate
everything but my heart.
Let the ashes get caught
in carpets and drain pipes
Kept in little ziplock baggies,
Tucked in a wooden box,
Kept back seat of my mothers car,
So she can hold it once in awhile.
Until she parks her car in a bad part of town
And a homeless man breaks in
Doesn't steal the gps, or her wallet on the front seat,
But snorts me three hours later
Thinking he just hit the jack ***
That's where I want to be.
In the lungs of some car burglar
Where his addiction should have been,
coughing on my ashes.
He won't get my heart though.
Keep that frozen in a white room.
Smelling of copper, by a tray of tools,
Latex gloves and paper masks.
One day, thaw it out
bring life to someone.
Dec 13, 2016
Dec 13, 2016 at 3:33 PM UTC
Please come over. I’ll have a tea set, my clavinova dusted off, Apples to Apples, Bananagrams and a fireplace for philosophical talk. You can keep telling me how the regions of the body have different tones and pitch different notes, and how the ridges of your bones show like ripples in a desert. I’ll wallow in your catalogues: all the warcraft of WWII, the chemicals that preserved the cats we dissected, and the steps to dissolving the puzzle of calculus. You will master the Rubik’s cube over and over again just to amuse me. And deep inside, I hope your poetry isn’t as good as mine. But I’ll still dance better and I’ll still cuddle with you in our home theatre, and I’ll pay you a piece of my mind once I’ve made it up.
Oct 4, 2014
Oct 4, 2014 at 4:31 PM UTC
The trolls are funny and have secrets untold
The blood elves well they just get trolled
The taurens are peaceful and kind
The goblins are quite hard to find
The orcs have a mighty roar
The undeads of a thirst for war
These are the Horde we all know and love
The next ones you see beat the ones above
The dwarves are are born to be hunters
The gnomes are sick of the punters
The humans build great cities of gold
The night elf leaders are kind of old
The draenei come from far away
I guess the worgen have to stay
My writing is done and I bid you good day
The end is done I have nothing left to say
Mar 16, 2014
Mar 16, 2014 at 2:18 PM UTC
Embodied in a perpetual persona of shitheaded seventeen
(Before you snuck out on a cold silver sheet)
You could measure your lifespan (or is it your wingspan, now? did you know it's the same as your height?) in late-night shenanigans topped with bacon-guaca-holy-moly burgers, tumbling in neon spandex and the raising of general hell, which you probably can't reach right now,
(And how many flaming bags of feces on why-not doorsteps, for me?)
Speaking of me,
Do you remember when I kissed your head beside a broken down photo machine? Do you remember when we ran away from your first girlfriend (her first kiss) and laughed because you had a current girlfriend? Do you remember when we tried out clouds in department store floor levels, like you were planning on getting one all along? Like you were my (first) and now my (late) husband? Three years doesn't seem very long ago, when placed in proportion with - what was that word again - eternity?
You were but a fleeting presence not only in my life, (in her life, his life, their lives now broken from a trio into a typical twosome) but in your very own - one blonde beach-bunny darting from top-hat to top-shelf
(Could you give up World of Warcraft for a World of pearly White?)
(Would you take me to my Senior Prom?)
We will float yellow rubber ducks down the water at your wake (one by one) and eat food-court teriyaki because no one is allowed to be sad (says you)
(Jesus, baby, what's your dang address?!)
In the end, you ride off into the sunset on your unicycle, like the bad movie that this is
(Screaming, "this thing's killer on the *****
Sep 20, 2013
Sep 20, 2013 at 12:30 AM UTC
I'm a docder, pretty wizard, how d'ya like that?
I prescribe drugs, you just wear a pointy hat!
I ain't no Dr. Phil BS or Dr. Dre crap,
While you're busy casting spells, I'm savin' some poor old chap
Against me, you wouldn't stand a chance
I'm smarterer than you, and you just have a fancy stance
I'm a real life livin' docder
And you need me as a proctor
Just to drink some vodkar
And by now I bet you're wonderin' what ya just got in yer
Ya can't even rhyme
So why should I waste a single bit of my time
Fightin' with ma docder powers which are all so sublime
And here's a little gift
Before I shift
Back ta destroyin' all ya lyin'
Without even tryin'
It's a free little lesson
Better count it as a blessin'
Crap, wizard, that, warcraft and path
Don't rhyme, just do the math
And also by the way, you misspelled "WRATH!!!!!"
I can wear whatever I want, from my boots up to my hat
So, my little wizard, what d'ya think of that?
I can use anything, from a .50 cal to a bat
You just get a stick, and a stupid purple hat
I can eat 416 billion grams of fat
And cuz I'm a docder, I'd burn it off in nothin' flat
By just using a little brainpower to focus
All of my smartererness, against your hocus pocus
You could never mess with me
Or either docder buddy,
Jedingaling and Murly
You'd leave so freakin early
If we started a beef
So just can it, and save yourself the grief
Against Walsh, you would flee
And as of now, he hasn't even got his docder PhD!
Unlike me!
Yeah, try every fancy trick
And poke me with a stick
A docder can take any pain,
From a puny little stick to a saw with a chain!
And then the docder'd turn around and use an attack
And your whole puny world would fade into black
You are done
I have just won
CUZ I'M A DOCDER, SON!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Jul 23, 2014
Jul 23, 2014 at 7:22 AM UTC
You left me like chocolate raindrops hitting a river of mud flowing through a Saint Valentine's Day wet dream.
You left me like the last surviving, half naked girl running through the forest, during a 1980's
Friday the 13th movie marathon.
You left me like the last piece of pizza, that no one eats, that remains in the open box, that sits on the coffee table all night, after a college kegger fest.
You left me like when your wife leaves her wedding ring on her nightstand, while she goes out to her best friend's Bachelorette party at a strip joint.
You left me like the only kid in your class that never got picked for a game of kickball during noon recess in elementary school.
You left me like the backwash in the bottom of soda can as you offer me a drink, knowing there were no more sodas left in the fridge.
You left me like you do all the crumbs you leave in a nearly empty, wrinkled bag of chips after you were playing World of Warcraft for 16 hours.
You left me like the last match in book of matches as we try to start a fire during a family camping trip, then it starts to rain.
You left me like you did your last boyfriend with a long text that was meant for me, but you actually sent it to my mom.
You left me like the last petal on a thorny rose bush that clinges onto it's last thread to the branch that holds it, during a severe thunderstorm.
You left me like ... one second.
(Scratching my head)
Pause, never mind.
Thank God, You are Gone!!
Aug 6, 2016
Aug 6, 2016 at 1:44 AM UTC
And I know the outcome of this,
I know how much it will hurt when I land,
Bruised and bleeding,
But I want to wrap my love around you,
Warm you up,
From the mind
down
And Iwant to get dressed in your insides,
The things you ve learned to hide,
Will you let me crawl inside your head space,
And hallow out a place so we me meet beside,
Your ribs to my chest ,
I dance for you my love,
Longing to do more then entertain,
Allow me to wake the dormant feelings
You promised once you'd never feel again.
Because you carve at my insides,
You cause world of warcraft to begin in my stomach,
While mere heart mumurs increase too a caterwaling of my senses till
I am bankrupt of all sound, left with mountains heaving to breathe
And Ido learn to breathe,
Longing to inhale the poetry you produce
In the wake of trails tattoed by spidery fingers,
That prove to be more poisonous then 1st thought,
Leaving me captured,
And I'm sorry but we haven't yet met,
I really wish we had met,
But lover to love
here is the reciepe for my disaster.
Feb 19, 2013
Feb 19, 2013 at 10:20 PM UTC
Is the pain in your eyes
Why is that ?
When you smile, your smile not flashing in eyes
Why your smile wrapped me in pain
What are you sad
If ever you meet me
So i want to ask you
Your sorrow
Your pain
Your painful tears
I want ask about them all
You seem to be alone in the Warcraft
You'll dwell alone
I feel your pain myself
My desire is that to remove your suffering
I hold your and want to take off your all distress in my own
I want to winding your tears to my eyelashes
I want to change your sad smile in happiness
I hold your hand i'll visit you the world of the lights and brights
Where you'll forget the darkness of sorrow
I just wanted
You always happy in all circumstances
You to be happy every second, every minute, every time
Doesn't pass any sorrow to touch you
I am praying to God
God bless you every joy of your life
And fill your heart with joy
May 12, 2015
May 12, 2015 at 1:19 PM UTC
Today, we have surgery
I sink my chest into yours.
Your blood pumping through my veins for a bit,
I feel heavy.
I want to turn to a whisp.
Like the Night Elves in World of Warcraft.
A floating blue orb of energy
weightless electricity,
Spirit in the power lines, like that spark we felt.
Tealight in a gas stove, left on for 6 months
When I am cremated
My ashes will be Kept in little ziplock baggies,
Filed away in the back seat of my mothers car,
Until she parks in a bad part of town
You break in
Leave the quarters for the tolls
Leave the GPS cupped to the windshield.
Then snort me, in my mothers backseat.
Thinking you just hit the jack ***
That's where I will be.
Charcoal cave painting your nasal cavity
coating the inside of your lungs like a cigarette.
Replacing your addiction.
This surgery
The Aorta of copper perfume,
Scalpels summoning blood,
I, scavenged from the wreckage
my heart inside you,
the rest scrapped in a kiln.
If they botch the surgery
cold Iron will be the last thing you smell.
I, a spark
grounding from your chest.
Heart still beating.
Jan 17, 2018
Jan 17, 2018 at 9:21 AM UTC
I keep waking up to sunsets
Affinity for the moon I suppose.
the fireflies, cold air.
I've felt happier at night my whole life
Sitting in elementery school
popcorn reading
Headphones plugged into a PSP
Blaring mindless self iindulgence
Putting me to sleep through the day
So I could level up my nightelf hunter in World of Warcraft until 5am
And sleep through social anxiety.
For awhile I woke up at 4am to serve you coffee.
Seven years addicted
I loved that too.
Traded coca-cola for drinking it black
My coffees color is the smog in Chicago
This nightlife is my real addiction.
That's why I love the graveyard shift.
Devouring untold stories
assisted living facilities.
This Goldmine of consentrated Wisdom
Parkinsons Orchestra Doctorates.
Politicians prepared for Death
Rabbis still flirting with nurses
remembering the whole torah service by heart
forgetting their wives name.
For my sunset
I like to imagine a big desk
A wall of glass
The top of a grey tower.
I want to Birth a skyscraper.
I want to stand staring out my wall of window back turned to my coffee cup
watch how beautiful stasis can be when you shatter through it.
I like to pretend each sunset
Is a death that wasn't mine.
I like to count the deaths in assisted living
As sunsets.
I like to read obituaries like sunsets.
I keep waking up
To sunsets
Sep 14, 2017
Sep 14, 2017 at 9:54 AM UTC
I wanted to sign up for the game after hearing enough
but there were some questions you had to ask first:
Am I human or horde?
Do I want to fight the environment or other players?
I said I'd rather go against the other players
before all the peacebloom and nightshade is farmed
and everyone has to download the cataclysm expansion
your jubilant response to the macabre alerted cautious receptors
asking me to join your alliance to fight the horde
because if I'm not on your side I'm undead or a troll
some bloated tauren or greedy goblin
even though there are plenty of healers on that side
you're more concerned with damage per second
because you're consumed by World of Warcraft
so I said I was more interested in Plants vs. Zombies
which I mistook for Call of Duty
you said you don't play mobile games
and the best games end in yelling at your computer
because you don't need to know where a pixel comes from
in order to **** the bad guys.
Sep 15, 2021
Sep 15, 2021 at 8:16 AM UTC
like byrd said
life's nothin' but a wind parade
tryna serenade
the streets of the ghetto
pack a pistol
everywhere i go i show
up ******** ready for war
true soldier made for the scold
once i sense fear
Ya know they gone fold bold
game is to be told not sold
groupies ******* get old
brothers hate when they see ya on a cash roll it written on scrolls
hands all.over me like im a celebrity
im feelin' hell death around the corner
soon to be a gonna
pictures of me and a closed caskets
those heartless ********
dont know i mastered
the game warcraft its a crime shame
ill be dead in the flesh and alive in spirit
coming back reincarnated
then my enemies get cremated
from.my fire and brimstones
enticin fright in the late night!
Jun 10, 2016
Jun 10, 2016 at 6:08 AM UTC
in the sixth grade
i asked my parents
to buy me World of Warcraft for christmas
to impress a boy that i liked
i never even downloaded it
i pretended fictional characters in young adult novels
were my boyfriend
i wanted so badly
to feel teeth
i imagine
she had already felt them
her blood isn't as clean
as the day it left her legs
she's never changed her sheets
since the day he left her bed
praying for a miracle
but God and Mother Nature
are two different people
that never got along very well
i imagine
she was spending her saturday nights
in the ditch by the creek
lying on her back
counting how many days left
counting how many days late
counting the stars
adolescent alone
abandoned baby daddy
already has a kid of his own
my friends joked,
"better call mtv"
what a nightmare,
we used to crush rolls and roll around
pop bottles not baby formula
it scares me
how quickly things can change
just by living how you live
like any other day
i wonder what her mom will say
i wonder if we aren't friends anymore
because we never see each other
or if I'm worried what my mom will say
scared of perpetuating
living how we lived
like hooligans
too much of an influence
that was the summer
she was always breaking things
she was such a clumsy lover
she is with child
she is child
one more statistic
according to the state
and groups of friend only last
as long as fate lets us
because now,
he is in the navy,
they moved away,
he is selling drugs again,
knocked up,
i found a new boyfriend
i didn't know so much could change
just by living how we live
like any other day
one too many things broken,
that's all it takes.
Jun 30, 2014
Jun 30, 2014 at 3:25 AM UTC
Which is better
To feel nothing
But a halcyon calm
Like a fine summer morning,
Or to be ****** to and fro
By the ice, spray, and lightning
Of the tempest?
To stroll the meadow,
Or to climb the mountain?
I've gone through both
Yet the answer still eludes me
I remain as ignorant as I was
In the days of my youth
But what I do know
Is how my chest tightened
How my breath caught
When you sent me a message
(Your very first)
And how my lips impulsively purse
As I peek at yours
And at the speck of a mole
Resting right below
What I do know
Is how I couldn't keep my eyes
From straying towards your corner
(Still can't)
And how my hand trembled
Just as I squeezed your shoulder
Bidding you farewell
Or how I've worn out my iPod
Replaying Jay Chou's ballads
As I sang my heart out to my steering wheel
Numbly crawling through
The maddening, seething traffic
And how the breeze eats my cigarette
Down to its filter
As I stare up
Dumbfounded
Mapping out
Tracing your face among the stars
How my neurotransmitters **** me
Closer and closer to a heart attack
And how my soul weeps and bemoans
The yawning chasm betwixt us
While you sit there infuriatingly oblivious
Chattering away about Warcraft and barley tea
All these things are
The few of what I do know
The last of which
Is how I'll never have you.
Feb 24, 2015
Feb 24, 2015 at 9:39 PM UTC
World of Warcraft! Yay!
I have a shaman I play,
For the Horde I say!
Dec 26, 2013
Dec 26, 2013 at 2:10 PM UTC
Affinity for the moon I suppose.
the fireflies
cold air.
I've felt happier at night my whole life
Sitting in elementery popcorn reading
Headphones plugged into a PSP
Blaring mindless self iindulgence
Putting me to sleep
So I could level up my nightelf hunter in World of Warcraft
watch Naruto until 5am
And sleep through social anxiety.
For awhile I woke up at 4am to serve you coffee.
Seven years addicted
I loved that too.
Traded coca cola for bkack coffee
And an eating disorder
Now Im a graveyard shift worker.
Manjc smirking at untold stories in assisted living
Goldmine of consentrated Wisdom
Parkinsons orchestra Doctorates
Politicians preparing for death
Rabbis still flirting with nurses and remembering the whoke torah service by heart
When they cant remember their wives name.
Wives of Men that played god until they met him.
Breifly
Before the trap door unlatched
For my death.
I like to imagine a big desk
A wall of glass
The top of a grey tower.
I want to Birth a skyscraper.
I want to stand staring out my wall of window back turned to my desk.
And
watch how beautiful stasis can be
As the trap door caves beneath me for my sins.
I want to leave someone behind to tell my story.
My journal is someone.
I'm a night owl
I am alive most when the world is either sinning or silent
And I refuse to die quietly.
Or before I get my Desk.
Or my window.
To watch the sun rise and fall
But never stay.
I am not meant to watch things last forever.
I am a night owl.
I enjoy this world for all the endings.
This is my favorite part.
Sep 13, 2017
Sep 13, 2017 at 12:51 AM UTC
I make you pancakes in the morning
Strawberries and whip cream
Just like my grandmother used to make
They call me the trash monster
Those tattoos of wings on your shoulders?
Those were the first two tattoos I ever stabbed into a person.
You were my first.
Remember I was the one who told you to pluck your eyebrows
How you cringed and refused.
plucked them the same direction
they were growing.
One by one.
So you wouldn't feel pain
I made you beautiful
They call me the trash monster
I paid for your world of Warcraft subscription.
I was at every birthday
your second mother
They call me the trash monster
My face is on national Televsion
Photographs of my living room.
The same one you woke up in every Saturday morning.
You wouldn't even recognise it.
Hidden beneath all of this spilt hourglass sand
So much between us now.
Prison bars
fast food shrapnel.
They call me the trash monster
A baby boy.
His little sister
Swimming in this filth
My depression hording
Their father left us for a 19 year old who lusted after his motor cycle
joined a gang
sells heroine
Left his autistic son and daughter
Taken now, my everything
From the nest
I was left to clean
They call me the trash monster
This filth
The broken wooden horse
The wax paper backs of sticker sheets.
The McDonald's bags n' grease
Scrapbooking strip cutters.
They call me the trash monster
Did you hear yet?
Do you remember me?
Did you throw me out?
Aug 10, 2017
Aug 10, 2017 at 12:39 AM UTC