This is a bit of a forum game, but at the same time it has the capacity to result in a bit of poetry, so it goes here. I'm going to supply a line of poetry, and the following poster is to create a poem using the line I gave as their first. Along with their poem, they supply a line for the next person to write poetry on. No restrictions on the type of line or poetry; just keep the line open ended.
Why ask why when you can ask why not?
Why is the sun so darn hot?
Why is the world so darn cold?
Why did Nirvana, sell the whole world?
Why am I here? Why am I there?
Why am I here, but nowhere?
What am I doing? Who is that white man? Until death do us part, AG, you have my hand
Until death do us part, AG, you have my hand
Though such words are spoken rashly as a highschool band
Weather true or not, these words are recorded
Through all my pointless words, lying here unsorted.
-
Take this to your grave,
A secret unmentioned,
Time makes a slave
Of all things in suspension,
It persists like waves
regardless of intentions,
No telling how it behaves,
thus impossible prevention
But I must muse, they've
certainly desired redemption.
- It's all but a thing in the past
the infamous eraser,
Nowhere to be found.
Not under my work,
Not on the ground.
All day I toil
to draw the right pic
but that one wonky line.
It just makes me sick
I searched for that thing,
In places I know
but that rubber,
that thing
was not high, nor low.
I cursed and I muttered
I searched and I looked
then I found that bloomin' thing
was hidden under...my book.
The first night I slept away,
I'd say
I can dream
nightmares that seem
almost impossibly similar
to the dribble,
and drabble,
and babble
of everyday life
and it's uncanny how the strife
is my increasingly worst nightmare
causing me to pull hair
and lose sleep over common
trivial problems
that haunt the everyday man,
so perhaps my unfounded fears that span
the entire scope of my dream cycle
is entirely normal to every Steve and Michael
that walks the concrete jungles
and perhaps the fungal
that inhabits the denizens of the world
are fine with their dead looks and promiscuous girls?
Is it entirely justified?
Surely, the law they abide
by doesn't restrict the person freedom
of lifeless souls filled with greed from
being exposed to the hostility of the dark
wretched soul of humanity that marks
the first time in history it's okay
to completely ruin lives as long as you stay
within the bounds of written text, which
can completely burn a bridge
and override morality which I find
to be increasingly stupid, and only time
may be able to amend the reoccurring
nightmares that I find blurring
And unsatisfactory
And absolutely gory
in the spiritual sense of the word
anyway, I've also heard
of a man whom had
given up his family for which was clad
in worthless green bills of paper
despite the fact that for every coin they were scrapers
yet he spent it all on legal poison and hallucinogenics,
It really is an epidemic.
So I find myself falling back to sleep
where I can at least keep
my innocence, where I feign
that my disdain
for such a terrible thing
can only be found in my mind alone, where spring
is eternal outside of this frightening imagination
for an indefinite duration
of which I can, despite nightmares, can
contently dream and sleep it all away, and
reality isn't reality,
where there's no such brutality,
and I can say with a smile as an adult
I'm content with such a result
Eyes that wander are eyes that are evil
Am i evil?
Just because im curious?
Just because i want to soak in the world?
Why?
Why does seeing everything make you evil?
It gives us nothing to look at
No fun to bring to us
So why?
I ask
Why?
Why are wandering eyes evil eyes?
I don't want them to see me
Covered in horror and grief
They'll laugh and jeer
And make fun of all my tears.
I don't want them to see me
in such a dreadful place
They'll criticize and not realize
That they have sent me to this place.
Things that start with G,
Though some are grand and gorgeous,
The rest are garish yet gray,
Though we can all gorge and gain
We will hardly gore or maim
Those delightful things that begin with G.
From under a tall spruce,
Batman was born from bruce,
Banners, Wayne, matter not,
Iron man, Captain america, they fought.
Iphones and Samsungs, they rival,
but the consumers, iphones they bought.
Smoke or steem, let them be,
they breathe what they breathe, In time they will see.
