Hey Pandas, What’s A Poem You Wrote?

I wrote a song. In honour of the trolls on this site. A couple of the regulars around here want to get the BP Band to record it.

I love the way you roll!
Typing insults just to troll

Warrior on the keyboard,
Your insults keep me floored,

(Chorus)

I want you to Alpha my Beta!
All night long!
I want you to Alpha my Beta!

Your use of Lynx body spray
Really makes the ladies sway!

You like to state fact
Issued by your a**l tract!

(Chorus)

I want you to Alpha my Beta!
All night long!
I want you to Alpha my Beta!

Anger from your basement lair,
Sat in your grubby underwear.

Playing World of Warcraft,
One hand on your shaft.

(Chorus)

I want you to Alpha my Beta!
All night long!
I want you to Alpha my Beta!

Vicki J has asked us for a poem
And Pandas are artistic souls
So I penned this small rhymable missive
In the hopes of achieving their goal

But I'm not very good as a poet
I'm more one for misty-eyed prose
So I'll leave it to talented Pandas
But vote up if you like, I suppose.

I borrowed some lines from Amanda Gorman and someone else I know

The deafening silence,
The comforting darkness,
Like velvety curtain,
To hide behind.

I think of my life,
The expectations,
What I've done,
And what's to come.

My thoughts are many,
Like organized chaos.
All the pieces come together,
To perform the intricate ballet.

Emotions run over,
All of us, alone together.
We cry at night for the answer
To take away all our worries.

Eventually, we don't know how,
But our fatigue wins over all,
Our minds quiet like the room,
But quiet doesn't always mean peace.

The bright sun shines down,
Restores life to world.
But now I'm exposed,
Can't show what's behind the cracks.

Pick out the face for today,
What will best hide what's behind?
Please, no one look further inside,
Or it will all come crashing down.

Wear that dishonest mask,
No one will know,
But most important of all,
Don't forget to smile.

(Duck should remember this one)
Roses are red.
Violets are blue.
You've killed this game.
AND NOW I MUST KILL YOU-

This one’s called My Worst Days (In a While)

There's still marks
On my arm from
My worst days
(I haven't felt like that in a while)

And sometimes I
Just can't get those
Thoughts to go away
(Most days I try to smile)

But if I keep
Telling myself
I'm okay
(These things, well they start to pile)

Eventually it will be true
(I hate it when I fall back in)

I dont have one, but all of your poems are great

Well, here goes my terrible poetry and my stupid brain that has to rhyme:

A bird soared overhead, tilting its wings to glide to the sea.
Dolphins leaped, chasing fish through dark water.
A whale surfaces, just for a moment, majestic, and perfect as can be.
Wolves howled from the forest, racing around each other.
Squirrels scurry along branches, their fur growing thick.
Winter is just around the corner… but something’s amiss!
The sun’s blazing hot, and deer run to shelter,
as gunshots ring out, bringing death and destruction.
Then finally, clouds cover the sky, bringing the bad weather.
The humans retreat, but still, animals hide in caution.
Drops of evil shower down, sinking into the earth,
And everywhere it touches, the land withers and is bare,
As animals fall, both on the ground and in air.
The poison seeps into the ground, and soon great structures loom,
Seeming as if they are reaching to the moon.
The water turns to death, and the air to daggers,
And nearly, almost, all life staggers.
Only one survives, cackling and smiling, atop their barren throne.
Can you guess the creature? Can you guess who?
Here’s the answer…
It was you.

It’s okay I guess. It is inspired by a book called “the end of night” and everybody, pls turn off unnecessary lights and shine floodlights at the ground. And also uses properly shielded lights.

It’s the end of night
‘Cause The modern age
Is getting too bright
It’s time for us to engage

I can’t even look straight
Nor left or right
We took the bait
Now the night’s too bright

I can’t look through my window
Without seeing something bright
Because there’s a big bad glow
I want it out of my sight

There’s a better way
To see the stars
So that from afar
Night won’t look like day

some cringe for a 7th grade assignment
She burns like fire,
bright with flames.
She dances and laughs in the night.
But she stands quite alone
like a cat in the tree.
Eyes glowing in the dark of night.
The odd picture,
with a charcoal frame.
But no one paid her any mind.

They listened to the salted tongues.
A strange beast.
A bloody gauze firmly bound her neck.
Such a foolish little girl.
With a temper sharper than death.

Few faithful looked past the charred edge and saw a complex burning bloom.
A woman with ashes in her heart and fire in her veins.
She was a girl with the soul of age.
Lived life from many sides.
Felt the acid in her throat and bitter tears in her eyes

She saw the end of a life.
She saw as his breath stopped.
Aged by the silence.

Many times she heard the yells.
The screams and breaking of tile.
And prayed for safety, hoped for light.
Wished it would come to an end.

She would feel much pain,
from those who were meant to guard her.
She felt so much paranoia,
anytime a man walked by.
She tried constantly to be stronger,
Lifting, building. Trying hard.
Yet she could never be more than a little girl.
No matter what she did.

She was told that in a world going crazy.
Just keep going on,
Keep smiling all alone.

So many chapters in a little book.
Such a maze of a mind.
She cried so much and
Forced a smile.
Tried to be more kind.

She smiled at the salty lips and kept to her own side.
She stayed close to her sisters.
An ox, and a ram, the closest of friends.
All the time the spent together like a
soul cleanse

She walked past all her scars.
A mosaic from the broken pieces.
Held her head high and read the books.
She sharpened the blades of her mind.

And she's still going.
Growing stronger.
Reaching out from the flames.
She's broken and imperfect.
With a charred, blackened frame.
But she works hard to live every moment.
Tries not to dwell on the past.

She walks past those salty, raspy faces with a smile.
They laugh knives and smirk bullets.
She walks past.
The little girl.
The crazy beast.
That's all the salty eyed see.
But past the lace and blackened wood.

A queen rules her own world.
She leads with wisdom and balances all.
A knowing smile covers her face.
Brittle words never make her twitch.

If only they gave her a chance.
Saw the woman behind the girl's eyes.

A goddess hides in her heart.
She dances and laughs loudly.
Entrances all who meet her.
With her rhythm and her tongue.
It's hard to believe.
Such fantastic fun.

She isn't full of beauty,
but that never stopped her.
She does not need plastic masks and beads.
She sways her hips to music.
Confident and clean.
Like diamonds encrust her limbs.
With a smile that gleams.

But they all glare or crack a whip.
How could such a creature be?
They refuse to see past ugly scars and claws.
They intoxicate themself with a rigid mind.

A tigress in her mind.
Silently stalks her prey.
Her tongue is sharp, like a saber.
Her air of power never wavers.

She knows much more than she lets on.
Carefully bides her time.
And then when they least expect it.
She lets forth a fire.

She indulges in strange wonders,
Lovely curiosities.
Reads all the books with pleasure,
Inhales the wonders of the world.

She bubbles over with knowledge.
With passion to continue on.
She expands her own horizons.
Writes her own song.

Yet she chokes on all the bitter salt.
Stays silent when she can.
She wrapped the lace around her lips.
Covers her face with a fabric fan.

She felt her heart rip in two.
Messing up inhuman.
She tried to reach the line.
But just tripped and fell.
Bitter not kind.
What a shame it is.
Such a waste of a life.
To let the the salty tongues,
Wrap strings around your mind.

Don't listen to the salty mouths.
Keep going little book.
Don't stop filling those pages.
Ignore the glares and raspy tongues.
Keep going strong.

It's okay to break some eggs.
To smudge the portrait paint.
Just try to be kind in a world gone crazy

Because they may never understand .

I once wrote a limerick for school:

There once was a fellow named Mark
Who was very afraid of the dark
Then the power went out
Mark gave a big shout
Then passed out and woke up in a park

I wrote this for a fan fiction I once wrote. I will give anyone who guesses the show/manga its from congratulations.
There were laughs and smiles, worn in the walls.

Warmth echoed from the floor.

They lived in this house of cards.

Lasting like an ember

Until the blood and bone tore in,

And drowned what once was forever.

The lungs they stopped.

The heart burst.

The perfection overthrown.

Now in the silence.

I sit here, empty and alone.

They may have died that day,

but I still hear their voices.

Twisted, bloody rasps

I try to remember

The smiles of the past

But all I see are my vengeful demons,

Clawing at the walls.

And just because I didn't die.

That never means I’m still alive,

The barrel of iron death.

Brought to my mind.

That day I lost my tongue.

Lost the perfect race.

Hearing all my demons

The ghost of the silent place.

And oh why do they apologize?

For the bloody walls?

The scarlet paint of sabers.

Applied by sinner might

And why do the innocent apologize?

My sister, Mother, friends.

They all weep in apology, in the back of my head

I beg them to stop.

Gouging out my ears.

A lost, loveless child.

Living only in fear

Nothing left to live for.

In this cursed place.

Can't move on from their bloody, broken face.

I wished I'd never die alone but living empty shatters bones.

How can I keep walking like a ghost?

The silence sets in like bullet rain.

The house once alive, A morbid display.

And in the corner of my home.

A husk sits, all alone.

Thank you for a thousand moments I thought would surely double.

Thank you for the wasted time.

Broken hearts and childish lies.

Thank you for this broken world where people rarely live.

Thank you so much that I'm living all alone. While my heart lives with death,

I hope you're happy. You foul beast. Hope you got what you want.

You rung every single drop of blood.

Stole all the souls.

Then twisted the story and painted you a saint.

You made us monsters,

drove me insane.

Why must you steal all I had?

Painting my walls all black?

Why does happy never last forever?

A portrait lost in the mud.

I’m sorry for letting you all go.

I’m sorry I wasn't there.

Please forgive what happens next.

I wish it could have been more,

But the child in the silent place, they wants to smile again.

Or even just feel more than pain.

The child is far too broken.

Too many scars to count.

A gallery of broken parts.

Rusted locks shut doors tight.

The child in the silent place let the curtain close

Pressing sliver to their throat.

The story ended.

Corpse to dust.

Wooden fondation rots away.

Such a terrible tragedy.

Begging for expiry.

As such a green creature.

Welcomes death as a friend.

The child in the silent place.

Now rotting slowly away.

But on the other side.

You see a glimmer of hope.

I pray for you dear tragedy.

May death bring back what you lost.

The laughter of your family.

The feeling of the sun.

The heart and soul you lost that day.

Child of the silent place no more.

I wrote this mess in 8th grade
Down the sidewalk between now and then.
The mournful slap of slow pace.
Secrets cry out from their pores.
Stories die with them.

A man leaves, he won't look back
Keep on driving till the sky turns black.
All he leaves out from his bag, the color of a dove.
Is an engagement party invitation, and a letter of love.
One comes too fast, The others sent slow.
I guess that's just how the story goes.

The girl with a porcelain face
A new wedding ring.
Bound in plastic.
She knows “true love” was just regret.
She should have thought before she lept.
How will it end?
No one knows.
Too bad that's how the story goes.

An old man, always subject to hate.
Misses the time when he could just go and escape.
So many mistakes.
Collecting like dust.
As his life’s will ebbs and flows.
It's how the story ends, it’s just how it goes.

A young boy grows into a man.
So they tied strings to heart and hand.
What does he think now?
The new thought arose.
I wish I knew how his story goes.

A small little thing.
Dreaming of love.
Always tries her best.
But never is enough.
They never see, she did it all for them.
“Forever wishing I’ll stay” she softly supposed
I know that's how the story goes.

And tears fall.
LIke rain on a track.
Quiet ends.
They turn their back.
And no one knows how they really did die.
Of heartbreak, a pistol, too many people cry.
A blink of an eye, the crash of a car.
Whatever their quite story choose
That is how the story goes.

'Watching The Rain'

It's raining

We never got much rain in California.

When we did, I watched it in awe

It was a rare, holy experience

It was something to be savored and worshipped.

I remember taking rain walks with my father

I would stomp in puddles

We would place leaves in the gutter, and watch as they flowed down the street

Little boats headed towards the abyss of the grate

I often wondered where they went.

It rains often here

I still watch the rain with awe.

I find that the rain gives me peace

I watch the droplets run down the glass, tracing patterns

My plants stretch towards the faint sunlight outside.

I realize that I've never felt safer

Happier

Alive.

So many years of simply surviving

And now I am free

I have a home that doesn't hurt

Friends that treat me with love

My wounds slowly healing

The scars a point of pride instead of shame.

I wish I could bring younger me to this moment

So I could show them that everything turns out alright

that things get better

And we would sit

Watching the rain as droplets roll down the window.

Michael Jackson
Ate a snackson
For in his lunch it was packedson
He saw a duck that went “Quackson,
“I think your computer has been hacked, son.
Go run home and check your Macson.”
So Michael Jackson
Ran home to his Macson
And sighed, “oh no oh no! Cut me some slackson!”
For his Macson
It was hackedson
And out of frustration,
He gave it a whackson.

The End

Dedicated to Albert Einstein
(PSYCH, it’s dedicated to Michael Jackson. But Einstein is cool, too.)
:) p.s. i bet Mr. Jackson would’ve been more chill about the computer thing anyway. Rest in peace.

雪を見て
Look at the snow

冬の夕暮
An evening in winter

満月の
The full moon’s

光を照らす
Light shines

未知の世界へ
Into the unknown

I know it’s a dumpster fire :)

oh yeah this is my kind of prompt :)

it’s called orange translucent bottle (and i know it sucks)

tw: implied overdose

A bottle sat on the shelf

orange

A hand reached up to grab it

translucent

A cap fell to the ground

inconsequential

counting

one

two

seven, eight, nine

and then it ended

with an orange translucent bottle

and nine yellow pills

and silence