Originally Posted by mazHur
I wish no one felt this way. But alot, do.
why? arn't we humans?? we feel, don't we?
===============
When asked how World War III would be fought, Einstein replied that he didn't know. But he knew how World War IV would be fought: With sticks and stones.
-(:===============
why? arn't we humans?? we feel, don't we?but it hurts though.
useless blathering
spews off her inflamed mouth. Words
laced with ignorance
awe her peers to mindlessly
worship faux intelligence.
Robots!
Last edited by crazefest456; 01-19-2008 at 02:48 AM. Reason: typo
Yes, it does.
angels are better
than us humans as they work
and do their wages
without ever feeling grief
or the slightest thought of love
destiny
===============
When asked how World War III would be fought, Einstein replied that he didn't know. But he knew how World War IV would be fought: With sticks and stones.
-(:===============
On the corner of
the page I see words written
in a hand unknown.
Read on, silent voyager
they say, and so I read on.
An old newspaper.
Want to know what I think about books? Check out https://biisbooks.wordpress.com/
Dried windy crackle,
faces printed to the curb
whipped with disinterest.
Streaked and filthy caravan
society's countenance.
the aftereffects of spinning
and somehow a dog
has taken itself & its tail considerably away
into the mountains or sea or sky, leaving
behind: me, wag.
- John Berryman
I've never seen stars
so close before; as I lie
against the cool grass
motionless yet in motion,
spinning with the Earth.
Early evening stars
Want to know what I think about books? Check out https://biisbooks.wordpress.com/
Slowly filtered from
a sleeping mind, summer stars
robe a naked sky,
every silvered light a drop
taunting of a lasting touch.
down in the earth
and somehow a dog
has taken itself & its tail considerably away
into the mountains or sea or sky, leaving
behind: me, wag.
- John Berryman
Sparrows and the bones
of beasts decay alike to
our cerebral skull.
Pockets dug to carry change
ahead of dreams are empty.
a fruit carrying vine
and somehow a dog
has taken itself & its tail considerably away
into the mountains or sea or sky, leaving
behind: me, wag.
- John Berryman
Tangled leaves grapple
the stone, seeking holes, boring
tendrils deep within,
sapping life from dirt and air,
bursting, a glory of fruit.
sitting, doing nothing
Want to know what I think about books? Check out https://biisbooks.wordpress.com/
laziness has its
own rewards; you just sit
and do nothing yet
anytime and anywhere
a fly may enter your mouth!
flummox
===============
When asked how World War III would be fought, Einstein replied that he didn't know. But he knew how World War IV would be fought: With sticks and stones.
-(:===============
hooorrah! participants!
Bulbs glare into night,
an encroaching awareness
of dim breaths behind
moths that scatter with the light,
this cloud of perturbation.
light spread through the atmosphere
and somehow a dog
has taken itself & its tail considerably away
into the mountains or sea or sky, leaving
behind: me, wag.
- John Berryman
It starts at the edge
of the clouds, spreading along
a dark horizon,
consuming like hungry ants
munching, until the sky glows.
children at play
Want to know what I think about books? Check out https://biisbooks.wordpress.com/
Hey guys it's my first shot in Tanka writing so don't be hard on me while evaluating it
Serene existence,
voices of little angels spread out
all aver the place,
at a complete ease
drowning my heart in happiness.
Flaws in perfection.
"La dignité n'est qu'un paravent placé par l'orgueil et derrière lequel nous enrageons à notre aise." Honoré de balzac.
"La réalité implacable me conduirait au suicide si le rêve ne me permettait d'attendre". Guy de Maupassant.
Hiya naomi, welcome to LitNet!
There're generally no criticisms here in the fun game threads (except in the picture and form poetry rounds), though anyone's free to express their admiration or confusion or anything on anyone else's pieces.
The waters ripple
the moon. And the trees, standing
so tall in the night,
are made blurry by the wind.
Time, tonight, is pocked with age.
Thats an interesting avatar, by the way, Fifth.
A dusty bible.
.
...the smell of flowers through metal labyrinths.
Posting Permissions
Reply With Quote
