Illusion of perfection Destruction of existence Long path of self-deception Is hiding on short distance
Still image of perception Construction of the needless Delight of misconception Belief in world that greedless
Affairs of night denying And breaking of inventions Rejecting and delaying Which rises up the tension
A falling drop of cold rain In lonely days will mention Of fears that will drain your veins And make you seek for vengeance
Instructions of inclusion The feelings in a landslide When dreams devours conclusions Of reason with its high tides
The moonlight of estranged Will cover scapes of living When nightmares of deranged Will overshadow breathings
Then darkness that will grow on Convenes a congregation While fading inner glowing Still looking for salvation
ole-the-first · Member since
Thoughts I
A cry of drying ocean Inside the sound of tears The houses of devotion Men left to die in fears
The dreams of dark delusions And hopes of passing through The life of disillusions... Some dreams are coming true
The being of unusual Is doomed to get straight In this world of confusion No innocence remains
II
Long journey of the river Finds ending in the sea Upon the moon of silver There's truth you cannot see
The fire of revelations Absorb the shadows' hole Sparks of illumination You'll see in dreams of soul
III
Hypocrisy makes me insane I'm sick of all these double games But one day I had realised That I'm all the same by sight
A stranger came into my mind I used to try look back and find That day when he did final strike But now I am just a psych
IV
Every night and every day Some are trying to find their way Every day and every night This way's just getting outta sight
V
In mirror there's a doppelganger This scene is ending with cliffhanger
VI
One wave of hand One last goodbye The ending wouldn't be so grand And this is just a final rhyme
ole-the-first · Member since
Untitled (Lament)
I used to draw the inspiration From depths of my imagination But since I looked into myself I put my heart onto the shelf To live with heart there's rhyme and reason For those who haven't lost the season
See every man who proud and brave Is falling down into the grave See those who happier were born To be just the Almighty's thorn They lived their nights and wasted their days In wicked grace of human race
Is there any sense to live For those who gets all for just to give? Or is there any sense in death? Or lying in the ground beneath? My question's old now can thou say But answer haven't been found today
The things I used to be possessed by The minutiae I was impressed by The wicked lie I had believed in Are dead but now I'm still living The biggest disinfatuation Had come into my inspiration
Micrówave · Member since
Pretty good. Here's mine...
[QUOTE]Your skin glows like the pomegranate, blossoms firm as the pansy in the purest hope of spring.
My heart follows your piano voice and leaps like a Emu at the whisper of your name. The evening floats in on a great African Swallow wing.
I am comforted by your underwear that I carry into the twilight of Canbeams and hold next to my Left buttock.
I am filled with hope that I may dry your tears of bodily fluids. As my Right buttock falls from my Merkin, it reminds me of your Calculator.
In the quiet, I listen for the last low range trombone of the day. My heated Fibula leaps to my blouse. I wait in the moonlight for your secret iphone so that we may grind as one, Fibula to Fibula, in search of the magnificient red and mystical long-snapper of love.[/QUOTE]
[QUOTE]Your skin glows like the pomegranate, blossoms firm as the pansy in the purest hope of spring.
My heart follows your piano voice and leaps like a Emu at the whisper of your name. The evening floats in on a great African Swallow wing.
I am comforted by your underwear that I carry into the twilight of Canbeams and hold next to my Left buttock.
I am filled with hope that I may dry your tears of bodily fluids. As my Right buttock falls from my Merkin, it reminds me of your Calculator.
In the quiet, I listen for the last low range trombone of the day. My heated Fibula leaps to my blouse. I wait in the moonlight for your secret iphone so that we may grind as one, Fibula to Fibula, in search of the magnificient red and mystical long-snapper of love. [/QUOTE]
I used Mad Libs. [/QUOTE] A facial on the embryo of our stillborn love child, as the wretched harlot kissed the porcelain teapot ,street urchins kneeled in front of the Catholic church, everybody came
drip drip drip drip drip drip
I used my imagination.
brENsKi · Member since
while walking one day by the front saw an hermaphrodite called Munt was a dirty little f**ker and a massive c*ck-sucker cos Munt had a cock and a c*nt
thomasquinn 32989 · Member since
In scarlet ****** The ***** will wander Until, in **** of *** The busy ******** speaks Of *** and *********** again It seems The ***** ** **** stands Firm in **** ****** Above the fields of France.
Holly2003 · Member since
O pointy birds, o pointy pointy Anoint my head, anointy-nointy. -- Steve Martin
If I had wheels instead of feet. And roses 'stead of eyes. Then I could drive to the flower show. And maybe win a prize. -- Shel Silverstein
I've got two legs from my hips to the ground And when I move 'em they walk around And when I lift 'em they climb the stairs And when I shave 'em they ain't got hairs. -- Monty Python
YourValentine · Member since
Ole - I think it is very brave to write poetry in a foreign language and you really did well, I am very impressed. It is even much braver to post your poetry on Queenzone .... :-)
brENsKi · Member since
Sit on my face, and tell me that you love me I'll sit on your face and tell you I love you, too I love to hear you ORALIZE When I'm between your thighs You blow me away
Sit on my face and let my lips embrace you I'll sit on your face and THEN I'LL LOVE YOU TRULY Life can be fine if we both sixty-nine IF WE sit on our faces in all sorts of places and play 'Till we're blown away +++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++ Inflammation of the foreskin reminds me of your smile I've had balanital chancroids for quite a little while I gave my heart to NSU that lovely night in June I ache for you my darling and I hope you get well soon
My penile warts, your herpes, my syphilitic sore, Your monilial infection; how I miss you more and more Your Dhobi's itch, my scrumpox; our lovely gonorrhea At least we both were lying when we said that we were clear!
Thistle · Member since
The Jag's Life:
[/QUOTE]
Sittin, greetin', feelin blue Scottish League, Division Two Every Saturday is the same Cannae win a fuckin' game
Berwick, Stenny - disnae matter Every week's the same auld patter 15 away fans in the toon Singin' "Thistle's gawn doon"
See oor Jags are a team o' goons who cannae kick the thing that's roon' So three points come with each blue moon we know a beatin's comin' soon
But every week we have the will To trundle off to our Firhill Always lookin' for a thrill (Alas, its always Thistle nil)
But we still love you (Must be barmy) Our beloved Red n Yellow army For life without you wouldnae be so fulfilled so naturally
We're mad about you it's plain tae see The mad, the mental Partick Thistle (FC).
(C) James Gilchrist
I used life experience and a Glesga' accent :)
GratefulFan · Member since
^ Ahh ha ha! I like it a lot! If it was about anything important I'd love it. :P
The Real Wizard · Member since
Thistleboy1980 wrote:
See oor Jags are a team o' goons who cannae kick the thing that's roon' So three points come with each blue moon we know a beatin's comin' soon
