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  1. #1
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    Default Minz's Prose and Poetry xo

    I like posting stupid stuff so like Hi.

  2. #2
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    Dear Owls,
    You are worse than an old Bieber song on repeat,
    Murdering my brain cells with your not so mystical streak
    Even when alcohol shrouds my brain with its intoxicated pleasantries
    Your voice hits it like a snake trying to create a harmonious treat
    The melody is way off just like your sense of humor
    But we shouldn't expect too much from a 16 year old tumor
    Whose degree is as fake as the dong size he portrays
    When a lady sees it she says: 'Is it ever gonna get bigger than this?'

  3. #3
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    Default

    That's not a haiku?

  4. #4
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    Default

    What is a haiku

  5. #5
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    Default

    Roses are red
    Bruises are blue
    Anything with a pulse
    Can make owls hoot



    Also thank you @Vain

  6. #6
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    Default

    Roses are red
    Bruises are blue
    Anything a female says
    Can make owls coo
    Last edited by L'Angelo d'Mysterioso; 06-22-2017 at 07:31 PM. Reason: rhyming couplets, ok I'm done now, pray continue

  7. #7

    Default

    Eggs are white
    I am so tight
    with all the chicks on here
    and everywhere

  8. #8
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    Default

    The only thing that's tight might be your hole
    Unless you have already done it with Damien
    Then I can't be too sure
    Don't tell lies or the boogeyman might getcha
    Wouldn't we all love that you little lecher
    Last edited by Minz; 06-22-2017 at 08:21 PM.

  9. #9
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    Default

    Blame L'Angelo d'Mysterioso!
    He started me on the Valentinesing...


    I love you oh so very much.
    Totally, completely.
    From the very top of my head.
    To the bottom of my
    feetly.

    Roses are blue,
    Violets are red.
    I’m sh*t with colours
    but I’m great in bed


    Roses are green,
    Violets are purple.
    I'm bad at gardening
    and worse at poetry.


    Roses are
    red,
    and ready for plucking.
    You're
    sixteen, and ready for
    high school


    Roses are red,
    Carnations are white.
    I’ve got the ‘doms,
    How about it tonight?


    Roses are red,
    Corpses are blue.
    Sorry you're dead,

    I forgot you were allergic to roses.

    Roses are red,
    Fitness is great.
    You were getting this chocolate,
    but you need to lose weight


    Roses are red,
    I know that they’re nice.
    These are carnations,
    They’re half the price


    Roses are red,
    Violets are blue.
    SH*TD*MNMOTHERF*CKINGC*NT,
    I have Tourette's.


    Roses are red,
    Violets are pricey.
    Flowers from an accident black spot?
    That'll do nicely.


    Roses are white,
    Violets are white.

    F*ck you, snow,
    You ruined my poem
    Last edited by The2Game; 06-22-2017 at 10:12 PM.

  10. #10
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    Default

    A few responses to the previous chatters spurious allegation.

    1. I did not in any way start you on Valentising, I'm not that kind of guy.

    2. Who are you anyway, Homer? Trying to shame us all with your epic prose.

  11. #11
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    Roses are red
    sh!t is brown
    thats how i feel right now

    but roses arent always red
    and sh!t isnt always brown
    are you questioning life right now?

  12. #12
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    Default

    http://imgur.com/a/Rtkiw

    So Happy one second so incredibly depressed the next
    Everyone has their way of dealing with their mess
    A mess caused by the heart
    Or a mess caused by the brain
    Does it really matter if the person that possesses them is going insane?
    Wounded emotionally, the scars become physical
    Whilst people tell her that wont solve anything
    She tries to listen to them
    She really does
    but at the end of the day
    Her heart's still blue
    Her arms are still scarred
    She doesn't know how long she'll last
    Putting up a facade as the wounds grow deeper
    the heart bleeds dry
    An emotional wreck
    that cant survive
    while trying to evolve in a world that wont accept
    her with her flaws
    leaving her completely hopeless and inept
    Last edited by Minz; 06-29-2017 at 02:57 PM.

  13. #13

    Default

    my prose: poetic, and poetry prosaic.
    disparate strands
    yoked together: mosaic.
    that's conceited - two fold.
    fool's gold defines the midas.
    how novel!
    you can add to yourSelf with the minus
    of the inessential. hack away.
    black decay lines the niggling, mental
    caverns with no risk of flooding.
    bloodletting. unloving.
    blood pressing and pushing
    even when the ventricle couldn't.
    ancient.

  14. #14

    Default

    Quote Originally Posted by Tetsuo's Hatchet View Post
    my prose: poetic, and poetry prosaic.
    disparate strands
    yoked together: mosaic.
    that's conceited - two fold.
    fool's gold defines the midas.
    how novel!
    you can add to yourSelf with the minus
    of the inessential. hack away.
    black decay lines the niggling, mental
    caverns with no risk of flooding.
    bloodletting. unloving.
    blood pressing and pushing
    even when the ventricle couldn't.
    YOU'VE BEEN MiSSED

  15. #15

    Default

    Quote Originally Posted by Reformed View Post
    Eggs are white
    I am so tight
    with all the chicks on here
    and everywhere
    roses are red
    violets are blue
    shut the **** up

  16. #16
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    Default

    Quote Originally Posted by L'Angelo d'Mysterioso View Post
    A few responses to the previous chatters spurious allegation.

    1. I did not in any way start you on Valentising, I'm not that kind of guy.

    2. Who are you anyway, Homer? Trying to shame us all with your epic prose.
    I'm impressed that you think that those rhymes are all my own work.

    Purely in the interests of being honest (look it up in the dictionary, chatters!), though, I must advise that approximately zero point zero zero of those four-liners were penned by my good self!


  17. #17
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    Default

    He wanted to love himself
    He wanted to put the shattered pieces of his heart together
    He wanted to forget his foul past
    He wanted to build a wooden path out of an uncertain future
    Alas, the world and its people came in his way.
    Forcing his insecurities to pelt down on him like rain.
    The shattered pieces he had so desperately collected, scattered and got swept away by the tide
    Egged on by the rain God didn't provide
    But rather his people did
    The muddy debris left from after this rain
    Hid the wooden path he thought he had so successfully made.
    At first Disappointment clouded his brain
    Then Rage took over his vision
    Then it was nothing but sadness that enveloped his haggard frame
    Left with nothing but the misty gloom that adorned his frame
    He sought his remission in hanging his shape.

  18. #18
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    Default

    The water dripped down her cheeks
    She sniffled and touched the crystal clear drops in amazement
    'What is this?' she asked her mother
    'its your soul's way of letting out the flood thats swallowing it.'
    The answer didnt come from her mother
    but the answer came from within
    The 5 year old touched her chest and asked again.
    'What is this flood that you speak of?'
    'The flood of hopelessness and pain.'
    'Will that drown the demons too?' peeked out a hopeful thought.
    'Honey if they drown, you will too.'
    'Maybe thats my fate then.' whispered the 5 year old curling in the corner
    and holding in her tears.
    'What are you doing?' the voice asked.
    'Trying to drown you, me and the shadows that keep threatening my sanity.'

  19. #19
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    Default

    She Walks in Beauty - Lord Byron


    1
    She walks in beauty, like the night
    Of cloudless climes and starry skies;
    And all that's best of dark and bright
    Meet in her aspect and her eyes:
    Thus mellowed to that tender light
    Which heaven to gaudy day denies.
    2
    One shade the more, one ray the less,
    Had half impaired the nameless grace
    Which waves in every raven tress,
    Or softly lightens o'er her face;
    Where thoughts serenely sweet express,
    How pure, how dear their dwelling-place.
    3
    And on that cheek, and o'er that brow,
    So soft, so calm, yet eloquent,
    The smiles that win, the tints that glow,
    But tell of days in goodness spent,
    A mind at peace with all below,
    A heart whose love is innocent

    I really like this

 

 

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