You are currently looking at Flamebate, our community forums. Players can discuss the game here, strategize, and role play as their characters.
You need to be logged in to post and to see the uncensored versions of these forums.
|Poetry contest for 3BP|
As a couple of people on this site know, one of my guilty and slightly fabulous persongier hobbies is writing poetry. I’ve been writing a lot recently and my interest is at a peak. I also have BP. So lets see what forumwarz can come up with Log in to see images!
If you enjoy writing poems this could be the easiest 3BP you ever made. Rules are pretty simple, write a poem and post it, don’t be a fabulous person and steal one, yeah you’ll probably get away with it but you’ll always be a boring woman's genitals.
If you have any extra information about you or your situation that will help me understand the poem better (the best poetry is always personal), then post it along with the poem or just tubmail me if you don’t want to post it publically.
I know this is a pretty trollish op I just can’t help it but i’m gonna call no trolling for the actual contest, I don’t want people to be afraid of posting their work.
Show me your soul for internet dollars Log in to see images!
first edit If you want to enter more than once thats fine but you may only enter three poems as a maximumAuser edited this message on 05/31/2009 4:22PM
|Posted On: 05/29/2009 6:03PM||View Auser's Profile | #|
|Posted On: 05/29/2009 6:04PM||View Auser's Profile | #|
oh forgot to say when the contest finishes, lets say 2 weeks from now
|Posted On: 05/29/2009 6:36PM||View Auser's Profile | #|
This space reserved for the torment of my former young emo soul.
|Posted On: 05/29/2009 9:21PM||View Samildanach's Profile | #|
Roses are red,
Violets are blue,
I’LL **** YOU WITH A RAKE.
Log in to see images!
It had to be done. HAD TO.
Mod Edit: Considering that the OP specifically stated ‘no trolling’, and this is a Civil Discussion thread, it really didn’t have to be done. Consider this your warning.
Snap017 was banned for this post by Sergeant CidSnap017 edited this message on 07/23/2009 2:25PM
|Posted On: 05/30/2009 1:33PM||View Snap017's Profile | #|
You are my poison, but you are my fuel.
You had my love, but you were a fool.
You are my band-aid, but you are my razor.
You are my burden, but you are my favor.
With you I am calm, with you I’m enraged.
With you I am free, but with you I am caged.
With you I am shattered, with you I am mended.
With you I am hated, with you I’m befriended.
Something about you, I don’t understand.
What time was solid, is turned into sand.
My conclusion is simple, lucid, and clear.
I stay with you of love, I stay with you of fear.
That’s my poem, also, **** you.
Log in to see images!
|Posted On: 05/30/2009 1:55PM||View baou30's Profile | #|
|Posted On: 05/30/2009 2:54PM||View Auser's Profile | #|
OK, here it goes. I don’t normally use such strict rhyme and meter, but hey, it was kind of fun.
What pain doth take its course along this beach?
Hath savage thunders not destroyed the palms,
nor fiery vengeance blacken’d worthy sands?
My coast’s azure ocean so churns with hate
that boils and bursts in torrid whirling foam,
then swallows radiant banks with rolling waves,
pulse spitting, tides surging, engulfing me—engulfing thee—
I claim this land but not thy sea.
Then would the murky aquifers expand?
The deep abyss would overflow with blood
that snaps the mbumive steel and oaken dams,
to crash on jagged rocks while spurting sand
and salt that stings the skin, the eyes, the soul.
It roars through valleys, tears across the moors
relentless, topples towers, floods hovels.
Thou runnest deep into the wounds most vulnerable.
Or I and thee shall stand still as a pond,
The truest mirrors: flowing, drifting,
|Posted On: 05/30/2009 5:22PM||View socialistbaby's Profile | #|
Content removed at the user’s request.
|Posted On: 05/30/2009 8:49PM||View Ladybugs's Profile | #|
Deep within my soul
A man doth lie
Deep within my soul
This man doth cry
For in the night
He lies alone
Afraid of what
Tomorrow might hold
|Posted On: 05/31/2009 12:39AM||View Generic Racist's Profile | #|
Crawling in my skin!
These wounds will never heal!
|Posted On: 05/31/2009 12:46AM||View TBW's Profile | #|
As deep as it was,
as far it goes,
the true extent to which
Is there not a thought
in this forsaken mind?
Were your life and your memories
all left behind?
Can you speak a little faster?
I don’t comprehend.
And to think you were once
my dearest of friends.
Have you no free will
or independence at all?
Has your soul left your body
to answer its call?
Your body still lives,
but you have pbumed on.
If I only I knew
the place you have gone.
|Posted On: 05/31/2009 1:48AM||View Thelostcup's Profile | #|
There they are
drooping over the breakfast plates,
folding in their sad wing,
and only the night before
there they were
playing the banjo.
Once more the day’s light comes
with its immense sun,
its mother trucks,
its engines of amputation.
Whereas last night
the male reproductive organ knew its way home,
as stiff as a hammer,
battering in with all
its awful power.
Today it is tender,
a small bird,
as soft as a baby’s hand.
She is the house.
He is the steeple.
When they **** they are God.
When they break away they are God.
When they snore they are God.
In the morning they bumer the toast.
They don’t say much.
They are still God.
All the male reproductive organs of the world are God,
blooming, blooming, blooming
into the sweet blood of woman.
|Posted On: 05/31/2009 11:53AM||View Ardent's Profile | #|
Ancient, depraved, weak-willed sapien,
Living off anything, thought to be alien,
It wanders, unable to speak or fight,
Yet when met with opposition, the form would take flight.
High on the clouds, soaring with vigor,
Afloat waves of emotion, our muse would shiver,
In view of technology, the thing would flee,
Lest it be slaughtered by mechanical glee.
In natural domain, the mammal would calm,
Able to rest, it would sing, in throngs,
Still on the table, it would pulsate with joy,
The radio of souls, no mortal childs toy.
|Posted On: 05/31/2009 1:17PM||View Snap017's Profile | #|
“Impossible Becomes Natural”
We flood empty lakes,
Erase from the clay,
Make dates into time,
Create night into day.
We break cracked sidewalks,
Tear meat from hounds,
Free evil from good,
Mix sights with sounds.
We encourage half-baked plans,
Sear minds with lies,
Trap followers with ideas,
Watched by hidden spies.
We are the Wanted Angels.
One covered in dirt,
remembering the dusty trail it ran along,
the poacher with the switchblade machete,
the fingerprints still left from getting yanked
no longer pursued after evasion.
One covered in blush,
the stylist that had wanted to cut,
the look she didn’t truly want,
yet now was permanent dye onto
the white that is now pink.
One covered in black ink,
the artist that showed the beauty how to paint.
Such beautiful and stylized portraits
were often created by force and greed,
when the feline decided to go by her own creed.
One covered by ribbons of all sorts,
the types the kittycat wanted,
pretty loops twirling into the air,
when the nightly run would draw
a silhouette of fleeing beauty.
One covered by braided hearts
done by a former mate,
but left in the pattern
to remember the love bumumed,
the nights spent gazing into the moon.
One covered by scars that had no fur
from the attempts of self mutilation tried when life seemed gone.
Alone and craving for the jolt.
Resistance was forced by a nurse on patrol.
Death would not be an option anymore.
One covered by text reading “Hope”,
For at least the one right being who
would care and love, not constantly grope
the sensitive tails that would
lead deep into her soul.
One covered by a face that smiled and frowned,
reflecting the emotional surges that happen.
Both occur rapidly and were usually
the greatest things for her, unbeknown in her mind.
As depressed as she could be, she could still be happy.
One covered by nothing,
still something more to do,
Life still young and ready.
A continued path she would lead
For the true one to be
That would mark the position of her final tale.
“A Charmander’s Dream”
The unstoppable war
The cause of suicidal rage
Twirled batons connected to saw blades
Carriages for the dead
Shields are nowhere
Everything to the center
All come in
None go out
Sounds of organic materials being cut
Precious bodily fluids spilt
Fire surrounds all
Charmander stands near his throne
‘Charmander-Char’ in a high squeaky voice
The dictatorship ruled by a monster
who could have fit into his slaves’ jeans
He was now the master
and these humans were his to command to fight.
‘Ember Amber, I choose you!’
Trainer Damn it…
“Speaking through the glbum containment…”
Walls are closing me in every day, I say.
My sentence is for infinite,
Not even an Indian king could give me
the air that I so desperately crave.
By that time, I’d be long into the center of Earth at my grave.
I want the touch of your skin,
To just let you right in to my cell.
Restrictions break our connections,
wrap chains around my waist,
pulling and tossing me into those
subzero rocks near the sea.
How glorious, yet impossible, that it would be.
Oh, how I’ve longed to touch the ocean,
yet they pull me back once more for the
half-hour free-for-all cannibal buffet.
Not a bite for me to scavenge on,
just a bone or two to scrounge out,
just the bare minimum to survive upon,
and, once again, my stomach never becomes full,
because I release it all during the throat-slitters’ hour.
The loss of souls and minds
are made from the aggressiveness of brawn,
leaving bloodtrails down each and every corridor.
Not one limb has fallen from me,
though I’m aware of eunuchs to be,
who survived the previous slaughterfest hour.
I pray for you to never lose
the wonderful mind you learn with,
or find a guy with a girl you want to screw with,
because you will lose more than your mind.
You will lose your head,
left to drip your precious drops of life.
They say there was once a bird,
The silent type always unheard,
Hovering up in the sky,
For all of eternity would it ever fly.
The touch of a human upon it was always forbidden,
Making a biological secret be forever hidden,
Due to the transparency and the height of which cannot be reached,
It makes another lesson of evolution not breached.
What is know, however very little,
Is the bird makes one feel rather belittled.
It contains an immortality so great,
That it is forever the same and never grows from it’s traits.
However, even though the phoenix of true legend is made of fire,
This version is something that will always stay higher.
It moves ever slow, like a turtle moving its bare arms,
Yet it seems as if it forever sounds its alarms.
Our alarms we sound at the dark times, though,
As this phoenix creature begins to cast it’s own shadow.
All citizens race to their homes,
Awaiting a closer strike from the phoenix within the clouds that roams.
The phoenix moves, but notices no one near,
Feeling the shivering of the cold and the town’s fear.
Emotion shows as small drops fall to the ground,
For the phoenix finally screams it’s thunderous sound.
The great ground pound hits with the force of the phoenix’s body,
As if saying, “I wanted to be nice, but you hate me now, so nobody stop me!”
One human man walks out to know what’s going on,
And realizes that the phoenix is blocking the sun.
The phoenix above continues to cry
The tears that do not heal, the ones that fall into the man’s eye.
He quickly wipes them off,
And then looks all the way up.
A question to the creature, “Why do you cry?”
The phoenix responds with another tear out of it’s eye.
The man explains, “Now, listen please.
I only want to be the one to appease.”
The phoenix slowly stops crying its last tear,
Almost agreeing to listen the man’s prayer.
The man continues, “Unlike your brother who can heal,
Your tears can do the same as the unreal.”
He explains, “Your sadness affects us all,
As are our ears deafened by your great call.
Now, all I hope for you is to select a different place and find it,
So everyone, including you, will have some needed peace and quiet.”
The phoenix slightly nodded, with one last drop.
It suddenly broke apart, with one final pop.
The creature broke away to seek it’s next destination,
As it needed to go away and not cause more devastation.
The phoenix is seen no more,
Though I’m people have still seen it before.
Look out in the sky with the best possible sight,
And you may see the phoenix still hovering in it’s slow flight.
“Defense of the Heart”
Defense From the Heart
By jumping out into the fiery shot,
I find myself getting caught,
In the chest and right shoulder,
Feeling the pain making me colder.
But, I stand still, attempting to hold in my pain,
knowing he would have nothing to gain.
I look up to his face, seeing no glee,
and stare back as I say, “Just shoot me.”
I knew the fear in him as I spoke those words,
Seeing that the shots had even scared the birds.
I continue speaking, “As much as you may have almost shot me in the gullet,
I think you may as well give me those last few bullets.”
My foe’s shocked face is shown through his eyes,
Revealing things so easily through his disguise.
But, the shock is cancelled for only a while,
As he shoots two more bullets from less than a mile.
Again, both bullets hit my chest,
Attempting to have me put to rest.
Blood spurts out, but life is not lost,
For my face has a smile straight across.
I keep standing still, not giving a frown,
For I know I won’t go down.
The friend behind me who almost died,
Looks at me innocently for having even tried.
The villain pulls back, attempting to not look,
At the bulletproof man who he tried to book,
For the pay was high and the reward so clear,
Yet not anymore shall he be here.
My body stands for a silence,
As I close my own two eyelids.
A slurred walk to the enemy’s way,
That soon it will be the end of his own day.
This demonic creature cowers in fear,
For my own bloody body only becomes even more near.
He crawls back to the wall, thinking he will be saved.
However, he is now only caved,
Into the wall,
Leading him to his own downfall.
I finally reach him, taking out my fist,
Hearing the fall to the floor, knowing I hadn’t missed.
Last energy bits go through this human being,
While we both begin to fall unconscious with my last bit of kneeing.
I slowly awaken to a small white room,
Beeping noises all around, showing no doom.
A joyous voice greets me as a salty liquid meets my face,
Speaking out as if she were the voice of heaven’s own gate.
“Thank you so much,” she speaks with tears all over,
Whilst I slowly move my right arm to pat her shoulder.
We stay like this for one more hour,
Knowing that the past week had been so sour.
My protection for her was great,
For she was already my mate.
The enemy’s guilty pleas, however, were not so met,
As his own crimes brought him only death.
But, my own true goal,
besides keeping my mate from having a couple holes,
Was showing my reaction to fear,
For my courage wasn’t so mere.
My face, after all, showed only smiles,
Keeping them on the whole long while.
I was even told, after having pbumed out,
My own mouth kept the grin, even after the bout.
I am willing to stick in for another friend,
Even if I’d be hurt by the bullet, in the end,
But my enemy will frown as he didn’t see it coming away by a mile,
For I’ll live as long as I go out in my smile.
(Excuse me for putting so much poetry on here. I just love writing for contests. If anyone is interested in the meaning of these, feel free to tubmail me.)
|Posted On: 05/31/2009 1:19PM||View Bionic Taffy's Profile | #|
I have a trio of winter themed Haiku.
...is there a limit on entries?
(Actually, while they stand alone, they are somewhat related to each other.
Basically, I fell in love, the relationship fell apart, and I did my best to move on.)
|Posted On: 05/31/2009 1:55PM||View Joben's Profile | #|
I have one question
Haikus are poems too right?
Give me BP PLZ
|Posted On: 05/31/2009 2:33PM||View SanDyk's Profile | #|
It smells of wet sand;
a tunnel made of strangeness-
full of centipedes.
|Posted On: 05/31/2009 3:11PM||View TBW's Profile | #|
Can someone have multiple distinct entries?
|Posted On: 05/31/2009 3:12PM||View PseudoNymph's Profile | #|
I don’t see there being much wrong with submitting multiple entries if you are a really keen poet.
I’ll keep it to a max of three per person.
Updating op now
|Posted On: 05/31/2009 4:20PM||View Auser's Profile | #|