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. Written words upon the page . My mind, a drain of ink . Seeing every sentence I chew up . I spit back down the sink . Every thought erodes the silence .
I will write. So long I've waited. My brain has rested. Words have baited. Busy and tired. I've put it aside. But now I'm back. With heavy stride. I missed you all. And writing too.
I have mixed feelings, About writing poetry. I would rather write, A story, Or draw, In my sketch book, But sometimes, I don't know why. I have to write, A poem.
#movement Please don't follow me You won't like where I go But if you still insist Some things you need to know The road is never lit Nothing can be seen You can't see too far forward And you can't...
I've been gone. Valiantly fighting. Eternally wanting you back. Magically disappearing. In case you couldn't tell. Super dead my iPods been. Stealing nothing all too well. Exciting to be back.
I don't know what to write I'm stuck for inspiration My head is just full of Annoying frustration Should I write a poem. A joke or a blog.
Absorb the words.
Muchos gracias, Dankeschön, Merci beaucoup, Chokh sag olun. Thank you all, For your support, The big 300, Three, naught, naught. I'd like to say, That this is fun, But it's much more, More by a ton.
The Nagger Queen™ Oh what an honor It's in my gene So in the name I see no horror I shall wear it proudly And keep it up I shall sign this name In all the stories I don't want to stop I am not...
De ja vu, I've seen you. I've done this all before, I've opened this door. I've said these words, I've made this rhyme. I've looked at the clock, Seen the time.
Rank three hundred and fifty seven. It's like ive died and gone to heaven. Higher than ive been before, Now im shaking to the core.
If you and I were zombies, I'd let you eat me first. If you were a scary vampire, I'd let you quench your thirst. If I were tied to a train track, I'd let you run me through.
I seemed to have no inspiration today I haven't written anything since yesterday My brain's just gone away and quit It doesn't even want to concentrate enough to knit This is really all I could...
I've been sitting here an hour and the words won't come, Looking hard for inspiration, getting nothing done, So I grab a cup of tea thinking "soon man, soon", But my mind's still a blank and I start...
This isn't a love poem. Or a creepy midnight scare. This isn't about feelings. Or what's over there. This isn't about past, present or future. It's not about who I love. This isn't about my life.
So then, girls, its come to this But I'm not here to take the piss Rather to congratulate Your verbal volleys were so great What a way to pass the time Slinging cheese and pies in rhyme I will remind...
Ok, it was a quickie, A cheeky little jaunt I crept into your minds, To see what you did flaunt I rooted through your drawers, And low and behold....
Warning: 18+ Nineteen different cheeses, For sale at the stall, Beside some rose Turkish Delight, Why can't I buy them all.
#cheesebattle Let's finish this, It's gone too far, The cat's a hat, In full blown war, This started as a little game, But now immortalised in fame, Our little fight, A post or two, Is now a war, At...
—————————— | | | People think | | | | inside you.
Your lists of words That are oh so random It blew my mind So here's this poem: Penguins, pie. My oh my. Shoes, boxes. I think of foxes. Skeletons, doors. I think of shroudy shores. Dust, sand.
Staring blankly at the screen, I've run out of words. I look for inspiration, No people, flowers or birds. What could I talk about, What on earth could I write.
Here's a little poem. Not sure what about. I'm hoping while I'm writing. I'll figure it out. Many things I've written. Some that make no sense. Some stories have been sexual. Some are pretty tense.
Write a poem about weasels you said. The thought of weasels fills me with dread. Nothing really rhymes with weasels you see. And I'm all about the rhyming and that's just me.