Speak not
of times gone by
when you and I
were lost and aloneSpeak instead
of present days
how we found
perfection in each otherSpeak also
of days to come
when you and I
are finally oneSpeak to me
lover of mine
and I’ll follow you
to the end of time
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Submission! And I quote, “One of the editors of the poetry tag thinks this is poetry.”
theanacronyst-deactivated201207 asked: So, what are your credentials? Where are your masterpieces of literary design? Perhaps you just sit here trashing others writing to compensate for your inadequacies. Your views on poetry and writing in general are very narrow-minded, to even attack someones rhyme scheme in any of your posts is completely ridiculous. It is a sad person that spends his/her days searching for things to insult.
This entire message was just……….horrendously wrong. But I’ll pick it apart, because I’m in the mood.
- I have never claimed that I am a fantastic poet. I have never even claimed I am much more than a sub par one. I do, however, have a poetry blog; you can check it out at whilescribblingmypoetry.tumblr.com. Please feel free to criticize it however you wish. Either way, whether or not a person can write has no reflection on their knowledge of what is good writing and what is shitty writing. I don’t quite understand the logic behind that. That’s like saying a person who isn’t good at composing music cannot identify a good composition over a bad one. What if said person was well learned in music and music theory, just couldn’t write compositions themselves? Would you question him/her? Would you claim his/her opinion was invalid simply because he/she couldn’t pull inspiration to write a musical composition themselves?
- I’m not at all narrow-minded, and I don’t quite know where you got that notion from. Perhaps you’re simply offended that I reblogged one of your poems and thus were fully prepared to spew out whatever angry words your fingers decided to type, regardless of merit? You do not see the poems I don’t reblog; you only see the ones I do. I let far too many slide that I’m fairly sure others would not. I understand that certain types of imagery and certain literary features that I may not be partial to still do have artistic value. I have a fairly wide view of poetry and what constitutes as ‘art’, perhaps too wide, when it comes down to it. I’m fairly open about seeing the ‘art’ in the poetry on here. I only choose the worst to reblog. I am the farthest thing from narrow-minded when it comes to poetry.
- Rhyme scheme is probably the most valid reason to criticize a poem. Obviously free verse poems are more than acceptable, as are poems in which some lines rhyme and other lines don’t. However, if a person is clearly attempting to execute a rhyme scheme, said rhyme scheme should be executed effectively. If I cared to mention rhyme scheme in the reblog, then it was not.
- I would be happy to critique the poem of yours I reblogged if you’d like that.
- Thanks for your opinion! Come again!
Got issues? Let’s fuck them away.
you have no idea how badly i want
to throw you on the bed and get buried in you,
i want to feel your body, i want to make it mine,
i want to make you feel like it’s near the end of time,
make you feel so good that it just might kill you,
the world might be ending, but you won’t have a clue.because today i find that what comes to mind
is fucking you senseless for the rest of time
you won’t have no complaints so don’t even start,
cause i’ll repeat my mantra, “i want to tear you apart.”and it don’t even matter what’s your gender
woman, man, trans, whatever, i simply couldn’t care less,
i just want to watch you undress and tear into your flesh,
just caress every little bit of your pretty canvas,
as soft as i can,
and amuse myself in the peaks and valleys and open lands
and reach for the wells deep inside you,
bring it out to make you feel like a million fucking dollars,
like you’re worth your weight in as much heroin,
that you relieve my pain by indulging in sin,
and the longer we go, the more we will win,because today i find that what comes to mind
is fucking you senseless for the rest of time
you won’t have no complaints so don’t even start,
cause i’ll repeat my mantra, “i want to tear you apart.”
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Jesus christ what do I even say to this
Everything from the apparent “rhyme scheme” to the subject matter to
yeah
just
everything
I hear your silence
Your silence speaks to my heart…
hurts from the pierce it caused
no object could do to my heart what your silence brought to life
do you hear it breaking?
shattered in pieces, from the words unsaid
fallacies of dreams had in my bed
the pain of it all
is your lack of concern for my downfall
from your pedistool that you placed it upon
like a swift swipe of the table cloth from the magician
you don’t even notice the crime you have committed
no harm no foul, the way you live your life
free from the woes of another’s strife
nothing said, says it all
but in the words of Usher:
“you don’t have to call…”
I will be alright tonight…
but the ringing of quiet
is my ultimate plight…
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An Usher quote
really
an Usher quote
Maybe It’s Me
Maybe I don’t know how to love anymore
Maybe I need someone to teach me
Maybe I’ve messed up too many times to find hope
Maybe there’s hope in your eyes
But maybe this isn’t about you anymore
Maybe this is about me; who I was, who I am, who I will be
Maybe I don’t need you anymore
Maybe you never even complimented me, I just thought you did
And everybody except me knew that I’ve always been better without you
Maybe I’m getting smarter, braver, and more independent
Maybe this is how it should be
My life, about me
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Suspicion is a nasty thing.
Paranoia is even worse.
Not knowing
true intentions.
Never knowing
true intentions.
Sometimes even if it’s
your own intentions.
I wish that I could know
if you really mean it.
Lies are easy.
Too easy.
Truth, the truth is hard.
The truth burns
hurts
like looking straight into the sun
on a cloudless day.
But we never really know for sure, do we?
We will never know if we are truly looking at the sun
or if maybe there’s a small cloud in the way
blocking some of the blast.
Congratulations, this post has been selected for Poems Like Poop! Trust me, this is the worst stuff right here.
Her Kind of Man.
Her kind of man,
doesn’t raise his voice.
Her kind of man,
is always assertive.
Her kind of man,
knows what he wants.
Her kind of man,
won’t take no for an answer.
No,
He doesn’t raise his voice,
he raises his fist.
He is always assertive,
its his way, or none.
He knows what he wants,
and its not always her,
but when it is,
He doesn’t take no for an answer,
is it Rape, when there’s love?
Rape comes in many forms.
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Unconditional L-O-V-E
I’m so close…
It’s becoming clear…
No longer a long shot… Or
A penny in a wishing well..
A writing of a fairy tale
BUT A REALITY <3
No longer a doubt..
A missing part of me.. Or
A desire to be who I really am, but can’t be
Not just a dream
Nor a deep desire
I’VE SEEN MY ANGEL, MY SAVIOR, MY UNCONDITIONAL, “LOVE-E”
Now I’ve touched you..
Embraced your warmth..
Taken your heart out of remission..
and given it that “fresh” start it’s desired..
“LOVE”
With every passing second…
Every text, long or short..
Knowing your fears and with LOVE, helping you overcome them…
You’ve inspired me..
Connected to me..
Starting to become ONE with me
It’s clear now & I can have it all with you..
That all being,Unconditional Love
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God
When I was little.
i was the ugly one,
the weird one,
the quiet one,
the angry one,
the short one,
the ginger one,
the one who would never find love.
but now im the beautiful one,
the smart one,
the sexy one,
the one with everything i ever wanted.
people think im lucky,
but i know i worked for it,
i have the marks,
i have the scars,
i have the memorys,
and the stress marks.
so ill happily listen to your appraisal because i know i worked hard.
so you can call me what you want but i worked hard to be who i am,
and i will congratulate you when you do it too.
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What a great way to start today’s round of shitty poetry!
Anonymous asked: i'd like to see you write something dumb bitch
whilescribblingmypoetry.tumblr.com
My poetry blog. Have at it.
Though, you know, I’m fairly sure whether or not a person can write has nothing to do with his/her opinions on others’ writing. Sigh. Nevertheless, have at it.
