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The poetry topic

Playing with Fire​



By Navin (bologo)​


Play with fire, you get burned,
that’s the truth, what I have learned.
The gas is there, will always be to stay,
escape from it and it will follow you, day by day.
In the end, the gas will always win,
and will feed the fire, burning you from limb to limb.
Jump in water, and gas will have a negociable dialect,
but play with fire, and to you will a burn direct.
The gas shall disappear when dealt with and cleared,
But play with fire, and it’s you who’ll be seered.
Only you can face a hindering gas and from it and benefit,
But ‘til you stop playing with fire, you’ll never see the end of it.
Playing and fire go together like you and burned,
Once the fire stops, burns shall cease, and to its original state will gas have returned.


Heh, I love poetry. This is one of my quicker works.

Essentially it's supposed to deliver the message that if you do drugs or drink or something simply to run away from your problems, it's going to cause a lot of problems as it won't actually solve anything and the problems still will be waiting for you right at your front door when you get back to the real world.

Basically gas = the problems
fire = the drugs/alcohol/running/any combination of them

Fire gets extinguished and the gas turns to its original state and disappears when you jump in the water (dealing with the problems instead of running away).

Heh, I like symbolism. Thank you for your time, I'll put up any more if I decide to make any. :]

Cool poems in here ehh, nice thread.
 
First off, I really like "Ceaseless Toil and Broken Dreams are the Essence of Urban Living." Anyway, I'm still pretty elementary at poetry, but I'll give it a shot.

Overalls

Overalls
Brown, have buttons, corduoroy
The overalls are a picnic blanket casually flung across the verdant hill.
A picnic for one. A picnic for overalls.
Firmly grasping the pomegranate pregnant with joy, I rub its abortion all over my lightly-tufted chest, glistening in the noonday sun.
As I roll back and forth amidst a pastel of yogurt flowers, I am content in knowing that Ann Landers would be proud of me.
A man in a bear suit frolicks towards me and proceeds to merrily lick the juices off my body. I file a lawsuit for sexual harassment.
 
These are usually recited aloud

Untitled 1

Why is everyone hated for who they are and loved for who they are not?
Can we find calm waves and diligent sunbeams in a place where no man is truly welcome?

I've heard of dreams of a far off land, the seamless foothills composed of sand and the flowing, hanging gardens which beckon us forth like happy children to the fading streetlights.

Does life have to be a sullen union of labor and confusion? Searching for a concept of what should be in a gentler light? Carry the innocent ones, the children to inherit the shattered dream. Carry them to a tranquil ship where they can be free to learn and speak of rough divisions with utter disdain.

Who do we turn to when the answers open doors to more questions? Sweating and trying in vain to hold on to the time which is fleeting, ever slipping through our fingers like the infinite grains of sand. I once knew a band who let the music flow like sweet wine from the very core of their being. Now I perceive a cheap hotel, no lights inside, replete with the smell of cigarette smoke and cheap perfume.

The ashes of a golden age faded away.
Seeds of submission in bloom.
 
Poke'mon

Poke'mon you have ruined my sociallife
Poke'mon you have give me a life long hobbie
Poke'mon you have made others laugh at me
Poke'mon you have made me stronger
Poke'mon you have loved me when I was weak
Poke'mon you are target by Christians as Satin's Discaple(I not its spelled wrong)
Poke'mon you are held high up in gratitude by The Gates of Paradise
Poke'mon you will be here 4EVER and After.
 
The Trials and Tribulations of Me, Myself and I

Members of the victim’s family sat in the front row,
The defendant’s short walk to the stand felt like miles.

Tension encased the defendant to a stifle,
Suffocated, he contemplated his fate.

What has he done?

“O tell me,
O speak to me,
O tell me why.
Why you give me misfortune.
”What have I done?”

Their chariots of wrath, deep thunder clouds form,
There was his family, riding the storm.

Playing with his life, stares of cold froze his very anatomy,
So cold, so cold, tantalizing were the glares from the few,
the few that had ever loved him.

“My art, my passion, my escape,
Was it rotten?”

Problem after problem
Tumbling dominoes in my mind.

I turn to my knife again?
Or a fragment of broken glass perhaps?

Did it matter, now that I’m finally being recognized for my talents,
Now I make my masterpiece, I stroke my fated face.

But my family, the mystery remains,
Why do they show adamancy?

Mystery- A burden, but a concluding pleasure.

What was once fog is now repealing,
They had come to illuminate his dusk,
Come to bend the cage in him,
Come to caution him,
For they always saw hope in his barren wasteland.

A plant sprouts nearby,
Within my grasp,
As if emanating its own glow.
Radiant, shooting, blossoming,
Lustrous leaves, held high, a crowning.

I am not lost.

“Daniel Collins, You are found guilty for crimes upon yourself, your filthy skin-art.”
“I am not lost!”
 
I was going through some of my old writing in highschool. There's actually some decent stuff in there.

I have punched

I have punched
a baby
in
the face

The baby
which you carried
for nine months
and gave birth to

Forgive me
I only wanted
to steal
his rattle


Cyclic
I can't live like this
But I have to live like this
But I can't live like this
My logic is broken
But I can't tell what's wrong with it
Because my logic is broken
I need you to empower you
But you won't help me unless I make you
But I can't make you
Because I need you to empower me
Wishing is all I can do now
Because I live like this
 
Bitterwords


You, daughter of perfidy
Cryptically shrouded into the past.
You, empty, my pale Mary
Not more than myth - doubtful fact.

Oh pious Lady, henceforth you shall know
I deny every reason imputed to your glory
There is no need to leave our minds slow
Into your shallow story

Out-of-mind, do your sorcery
I drop tears of delight at your side
Throwing your name into mockery
Deride all your scornful pride

And so are your rubbish piles, poor worshippers
Worthless fillers - a bestialized brain
Seldom someone glimpses
Something weird from behind the vain...
 
The Trophy

She sits in the corner
Her drink in her hand
A feeling consumes her
She can't understand

Her self confidence
It's running quite thin
Defenses are scattered
With help from the gin

She went to the party
With the hopes to forget
She plans to drink more
To drown her regret

From across the room
She catches my eye
I slowly approach
Preparing my lies

For I'm fully aware
Why she's empty inside
Her last lover left her
Taking with him her pride

I start conversation
Exuding my charm
She's quickly persuaded
That I mean her no harm

She's looking for solace
I offer protection
A masquerade dance
Of lust and affection

I say that I want her
I say that I need her
And she doesn't care
It's bullshit I feed her

She exits the room
Slips naked into bed
Intoxicated
From the lies she's been fed

When I close the door
She pulls me in tight
And chooses to ignore
That this isn't right

Well I'm looking for sex
And she's on the rebound
We get to the fucking
Without making a sound

A few hours later
While we're laying in bed
In the awkward silence
A thought enters her head

Although I was here
To catch her from her fall
She's only a trophy
I will hang on my wall

Oh, but she doesn't care
She's been tainted by sin
She met with Seduction
And she let me win​
 
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