Thread for all of my poems

Under the good advice of sylvanlightning, I'm going to put all of my poems into a single thread; can't say they're any good, but anyways, enjoy!

 

IN THE MORNING

The wall it would seem,
A light apple green,
In the morning.

Double tongued Tony
Creeps in through the floor,
Eros and Venus have already been.

Lamb chops and soldiers,
Washing machine hats looking down,
Don't frown,
I'll get it back for you in the morning.

Mellon flavoured morning,
Apple sounding morning,
Morning sweet morning,
Sunlight is dawning.

Morning time,
Morning time,
Morning time peaches on the beaches.

My brain it would seem,
Like chainsaw ice cream,
In the morning.

Morning time,
Morning time,
Morning time peaches on the beaches.

 

PATCHWORK MAYHEM

Adjust your spiraling food of kings,
With blobby, smiley, scary things,
Your Aneid responds to verbal commands,
Scarlet bands of pickled fruit,
And vacuum cleaners in a suit,
Quetzalcoatl lives in my bag,
Not the God of War.

Note to self,
Gout is not venereal,
On the shelf,
The clock is melting before my eyes.

Hot as Hell,
Hot as Vulcan,
Mushroom hats of doubt,
Scarlet bands of pickled fruit,
And vacuum cleaners in a suit.

Shit, it's raining.

 

APPLE BRANDY

Give me a tot of that old apple brandy,
It's cold out tonight and I'm feeling quite randy,
There's a glass on the shelf, looks rather handy,
So give me a tot of that old apple brandy.

Give me a glass of that old Irish whiskey,
It's cold out tonight and I'm feeling quite frisky,
Make mine a double, that seems rather risky,
Yes give me a glass of that old Irish whiskey.

 

ALBERT EINSTEIN'S MUSICAL CHERRIES

Dido's enormous faculties,
Scenic tigers yield,
To mystical marauders,
In the battlefield.

More, more, more,
The water's running dry,
Blood and oil begin to boil,
Beneath a foreign sky.

Albert Einstein's musical cherries,
Take me down to Londonderry,
Where pipes are playing,
And the trees are saying,
There is no need to hurry.

A man at the wall,
Wears a hat,
Fancy that,
And a ruler on a string,
Silly thing.

Albert Einstein's musical cherries,
Don't be late, you'll miss the ferry,
Time doesn't wait,
Even for the man in the hat,
By the wall,
Not at all.

Sing to me the deep blue songs,
Of quantum chicken curry,
Albert Einstein's musical cherries,
Getting dark, feeling merry.

 

GHOSTS AT THE DOOR

This room looks full, but it's empty,
There's nothing here for me anymore,
Watching the years ticking by,
Watching the ghosts at the door.

First the ghost of Plato,
Riding a blue-spotted pig,
Next the ghost of cheese on toast,
Wearing an ethical wig.

Festival of stilton,
Festival of light,
Bag of roast potatoes,
Symmetry of night.

This world looks full, but it's empty,
There's nothing here for us anymore,
Watching the tortoises sleep,
Watching the ghosts at the door.

First the ghost of Virgil,
Riding a red submarine,
Next the ghost of cheese on toast,
Wearing a bathrobe of green.

Festival of cheddar,
Festival of light,
Box of large cotton socks,
Holy tartan of night.

 

GETTING HIGH

Pink pens,
Chocolate hens,
Boats are on the ceiling,
Dark dens,
Highland glens,
Send my senses reeling.

Twenty minutes, twenty minutes, twenty minutes,
The dinosaurs are coming,
Nightmare lane is turning,
Leomonade and numbers burning,
Churning,
Learning,
Flying,
Crying,
In the prune juice sky,
Rolling by, getting high.

Fat files,
Purple miles,
Peanuts in the meadow,
Large piles,
Lady smiles,
Faces at the window,
Haunting,
Daunting,
Flying,
Crying,
In the red wine sky,
Rolling by, getting high.

 

WE DON'T BELIEVE IN YOUR LIES ANYMORE

Do you remember the days when we played,
When we were children, the laughter we made,
Watching the sun and the clouds gently fade in the sky.
Now to the east, in some distant land,
Children lay dying at a stranger's command,
And no-one comes running to lend them a hand when they cry.

You say it's for freedom, you say it's for peace,
You say it's to make all the suffering cease,
And that's why Great Britain is marching her fleets into war.
Tell it to the parent who suffers and dies,
Tell it to the orphan with tears in her eyes,
Why can't you see, we don't believe in your lies anymore?

The bombs they have fallen, the war has been won,
Time to go home now and polish your guns,
Now that the blood coloured late evening sun starts to fade.
You did it for freedom, you did it for peace,
You did it to make all the suffering cease,
But just take a look at all the deceased who have paid.

And still to the east, in that distant land,
People lay dying at each other's hands,
It don't seem like freedom at all where I stand, my good friend.
Still you insist that it's true what you say,
That fighting and killing was the only way,
But you'll be the one who's going to pay in the end.

You said it's for freedom, you said it's for peace,
You said it's to make all the suffering cease,
And that's why Great Britain was marching her fleets into war.
Tell it to the people who suffer and die,
Tell it to the children with death in their eyes,
Why can't you see, we don't believe in your lies anymore?
Why can't you see, we don't believe in your lies anymore?

 

COGITO ERGO SUM

Aliquid quo nihil maius cogitari possit,
A pint of Irish stout,
New fridge freezers,
Plastic Jesus,
What's it all about?
Aliquid quo nihil maius cogitari possit,
A pint of Irish stout.

Cogito ergo sum,
A lobster in a pram,
Cogito ergo sum,
I think therefore I am.

Aliquid quo nihil maius cogitari possit,
A cup of Earl Grey tea,
No traffic cones,
No pheremones,
To be or not to be,
Aliquid quo nihil maius cogitari possit,
A cup of Earl Grey tea.

Cogito ergo sum,
Marmelade and jam,
Cogito ergo sum,
I think therefore I am.

Cogito ergo sum,
Daffodils are in bloom,
Trolls are moving in the gloom,
A lobster in a pram,
Cogito ergo sum,
I think therefore I am.

 

this is really good...

 

hey.. what you think of my username?... is it a little too kliché?... love

 

SEASONS

She stands eight feet tall,
She dresses all in green,
If you see her could you ask her,
Where the birds have been?

When green turns to gold,
Loving I've been told,
Makes the blue bells turn around,
It sounds just like a dream.

But things arn't always
What they seem to be.

Follow me, we can go,
Where the streams sweetly flow,
From the springs on the hill by the glen.

She stands eight feet tall,
She dresses all in gold,
If you see her could you ask her,
Why the year grows old?

Follow me, we can go,
Where the ice and the snow,
Covers mountains and hills by the glen.

She stands eight feet tall,
She dresses all in white,
Heavy the rain, demons' domain,
Icy winds of night.

 

UNTITLED POEM

We went for a walk by the river,
Where gentle waters run,
And in the trees the blackbirds did nest,
While hand in hand we looked to the west,
To watch the setting of the sun.

We strolled by the deep flowing waters,
Something touched the air,
I looked and I saw your dark hazel eyes
Reflecting the pale twilight skies,
As soft breezes blew through your hair.

We lay on the banks of the river,
Just yourself and I,
While above us the moon's tranquil face
A dark velvet sky it did grace,
And mystical clouds floated by.

 

Nah, I like your username it's quite expressive.

That's all my poems for now, but I hope to get some more typed up pretty soon!

 

UNTITLED POEM had an exquisite measured rhythm...though I myself am not particularly a fan of the limitations that go along with that, I do recognize the difficulty of writing such a poem and still maintaining a creative layer.

 

ok.. "great".. what kind of music do u do?..

 

Classical, folk, acoustic & psychedelic rock, occassional jazz.

 

yaaay good idea to put them all in the same place. though the thread might explode with talent keep up the good work Johnnn
<3 Zoe xx

 

You really are too sweet.

 

MINNIE THE EVIL

If you ever go down to Washington town,
Then if you're lucky you might see,
A girl I like to call Minnie the Evil,
And her bra's a thirty-four double D.

Have you seen Minnie the Evil?
Have you seen her enormous breasts?
She's got a pair,
They're so big and round,
Yes Minnie's boobs are the finest boobs in town.