Um- becauses minque suggested it and we should always listen to our Wise Woman.

This can be the place for the many squirrel, badger, assassin, raven, KOB, and Liz the Wiggle poetry slams.

Someone else can start- cause I got nothin'

Lizzie, Kobby and the rest of the guys
are the best of the pack; like a bag full of fries

I love you as hell but I may have to abort
if you continue to be asses and bash Whitney Port!

Mirocu about Whitney is port and starboard
Due to feelings the fellow's harbored

Other forumites seem to miss her charms
Causing The 'cu to get up in arms

"But she is so..." says he
To which the others reply with

"Ehhhh"

Wise words from the 'dawg
Regarding young Whitney Port

For she is the one who took the heart of Mirocu
For some reason the only word to rhyme is queue

Holy damn y'all folks
I'm all up with the one line jokes

But the instant I have to think
the whole thing starts to sink

Down into a morass so pungent and vile
I'm going to go and lie down a while...

Whitney Port Whitney Port!!
She's just so really short!!...

....

Liz finds Whitney Port
To be very beautiful
I just burped, haha

Whitney isn't ugly,
But there's something wrong with her eye.
I don't mean to be picky,
But I find her eye quite icky,
So I'll keep making mirocu cry.

This is not the gosh darned Whitney Port thread
So perhaps we should talk of elseones instead

Perhaps the Justins two or or the Timber twain
Faith Hill, Garth Brooks or Shania...Um...Twain

Word up ye forum dudes

YOLO...

Mirocu never cries,
but inside he sometimes dies.
For he is a real Nordic man;
all white with no tan.
He shrugs off all nasty words,
like that day on the can,
when he dropped a few [censored]

Liz is silent now
The devastating point
Has been reached early.

Liz departs and none is left,
for all the fun is subject to theft.
For the joke he said,
he now goes to bed.
"At least", he thinks, "we all sleep for free."
But before the slumber, lets play some Fallout 3!

ohhh! Me like!

I'm certainly not a poet but I love reading yours!

YAAAYYY

Government birds patrol our skies,
With ever lustful and watching eyes,
Ever lightly we must tread,
For privacy is lost or dead,
Agencies with strength unchecked,
Fail to listen as we object,
Because of safety so they say,
Our private lives must go away.

That is fine, I say
With my finger 'twixt nostrils
Forever digging

I look about, peruse the threads
And here I find what ought be said
in other ways, or not because
I'm not really with it...

Badgers! Squirrels!
Hands- open and/or curled!

Chests that are portable
Rhymes that are snortable

I cannot see what these signs augur
So off to Bleak Falls to fight the draugr.

The 'dog he wailed because of signs
that many were the lines
of endless absurd
collection of word...s...
From end to end
the world of Chorrol doth bend
from the weight of Badger Spam™...

Damn...

Would also include the bow-down one if we had it. That was... I think I will just go lie down now.

...

The Badger he found himself up-cheered
as he found himself by peer applauded
by mentor was lauded

should he stop before fail?
laughs ne'er to avail himself
Or just carry on into oblivion*...

*Other RPGs available...

Nope I'm not a poet..but I really like what I'm reading here!

Keep up the good work!

This little ode must not corrode,
with trails of chem; the skies explode.

"Invade their homes! Invade their lives!"
The g´vment says, and then high-fives.

This we must fight,
both day and night.
Bring the word! Bring the lamp!
Unless; we´ll see a prison camp.

Week off, week off, how I long for this
Strange that it should be so hard to get
When all it takes are words
in the right ears

But no, blood from stone be easier
Gold from lead easier made
Than a measly five days away
from moosters of leathered potential

How can this be so hard to get
And why do I need drink?
When all I actually need is the time
And time is all people, don't waste it...

In a haste I did it all,

Now I got nothin' at all,

Not a cent to ma name,

What a shame,

Seemed like a good idea,

But what happened is what I fea'd....

Procrastination and deviation
writing avoidance of writing
talking of not doing
I hate it when a plan falls apart
This assuming I had a plan in the first place...

Bad writer slap wrist
Get on with your work
Yes but then again it's early
Can you be blamed?
for avoidance of writing...

Talking...And not doing...

*Fade*...

Well looks like I'm startin' anew,
High tops,snap back you all think you really coo',
think you original,
think you the started the gene pool,
favourites include Drake and Wayne,
really?They a pain to listen to,
nothing they say seems true,
"Started from the bottom"?
that's a lie,so rotten,
he was on De Grassi,
now raps about smoke that grass he,
sets a bad example,
when ever he out in the street people get trampled,
runnin' up for autographs,
he got alot of gaffs(houses),
others talk about flashin' gats,
stabin' rats,
most of it ain't true,
and now kids they think it's coo',
they wanna make it to,
but they ain't got nothin' new,
while they' "heroes" signed a new deal with Mnt.Dew,
money is the only reason they do what they do,
money the only thing they rap about that is true,
they do got stacks but it ain't clean,
givin' kids these false dreams,
they think weed will make them famous,
and it's all your fault you ignoramus,
you got blood on your hands,
yet your fame still stands,
worse than Ian Rotten,
got lots,deserve nothin',
cops turnin' blind eyes,
while you beat on small frys,
for lookin at you funny,
why don't you go back to your crib and count all your money,
"Started from the bottom now my whole team is f**kin' here"?,
never shared a dime or even gave them time,
talk about how your Sublime,
well love is not what I got,
give your fans somethin' back,
get off your ho's big fat rack,
try and actually write your own rap,
oh wait don't it'd probaly be crap!,
go in a club,you drink too much then you snap,
but your lawyers are paided 6 digits,
wouldn't even matter if you were a rugby player caught tossing midgits
on CCTV,you could get away with "It wasn't me",
you could even plead guilty and get away with it,
just to show much power you have even though your lyrics are [censored],
you know it's bad when dissin' you is overdone,
writin' on a forum that don't like rap,
just coz I'm bored and wanna show that,
I really hate you,
atleast Wu Tang never said they could do kung fu,
you talk about guns and weed,
even disgustingly mention your own seed,
yet you just like the rest,
only rappin' for money and breast,
while kids on corners and porches around the globe,
wanna be big just to show some chode at school or home that they can,
while others like to spam on message boards about how you deserve all of your awards,
they just apart of the hordes,
you're predictable,
we all know T-Pain will be on your chorus,
auto tuned drivvel about a party in Hondorus,
"I got enough cash to buy all of this" he would say,
while your at it you'll call another rapper you don't like gay,
like you Sugh or somethin',
then say you gonna kill him like your arms are huge or somethin',
what every real fan of hip hop and rap wants for you to shut up,
someone critizes you slightly you put your hood up,
walk away sulkin' away,
you think they cray,
your just in denial,
it so easy to just rile you up,
why should you care you got enough money to buy the World Cup,
now let's talk about that,
you play Fifa?Na man you full of crap,
that's what I sa'd when you were in that ad.

*fade*

I'm tired and bored so I did a long non thought out rap on Drake...I think.

-applauds-

That must've taken forever to type out, lol

Half an hour or so,probaly more....I don't even know why I seemed so angry.

Being listening to too much Hospin...wait theres never too much Hospin!

I recently learned about Niamh, and I´d like to dedicate this poem to her.


Ode to Niamh

When everything is said and done,
in Niamh´s world; not all is fun.

A troubled mind, no freedom found,
her hands and feet were tightly bound.

The Great Escape; she took the bait,
and made her way towards her fate.

Because I've been playing far too much Saints Row IV:

Ode to the Dubstep Gun

Wubwubwubwubwubwub boom
Technicolour alien doom

Pulsing rhythm, explosive beats
Taking down the digital streets
Fighting back against the Xin regime
With the lethal wub machine

Wubwubwubwubwubwub boom
Bringing an end to Xinyub soon

Blasting out the dance of death
Ten thousand decibels take your breath
Just a moment for it to charge
Then unleash the dubstep dirge

Wubwubwubwubwubwub stop
Now it's time for the...

DROP!!!

Bwaaaa
Widdawidda wubwub wooop!
Bwaaaa zibbedibbe bwaaabwaabwaaaa
(synthesisersynthesisers)

Wubwubwubwubwubwub boom
Dubstep gun is wubbing a tune

Love it! Oh, I actually started coughing with laughter! Bad Colonel, bad...

I'm sorry Sierra. Never again shall I commit the evil deed of combining poetry with dubstep.

This a private party? Or can anyone join in?

A stranger walks into the thread, and shakes his head in dismay,
shocked by that which lies ahead, at the madness on display,
he thinks the wisest course is now, to retreat in double time,
only to find, with furrowed brow, that he thought all this in rhyme

Anyone is welcome to participate. Welcome to the forums by the way.

My ryhmes are dessin*,
I'm a blessin' to the rap game,
Everything was the same till I came,
Got No gimmicks,
Got Plenty of mimics.

*French for Art

A man of stone, he keeps inside,
All the things he seeks to hide,
But underneath the stony skin,
Stone without as stone within,
Stone within as stone without,
There's naught inside, he's hollowed out.

The heart still beats, the blood still flows,
Is he alive? Nobody knows,
Cold inside, beset by drought,
What once he was, he once tore out,
Or sealed off behind the stone,
Now little more than flesh and bone.

A stony mask, to keep away,
The questions that would come his way,
A weighty mask, that wears him out,
No breath to scream, no heart to shout,
Trapped beneath the stone he wrought,
Perhaps he gets just what he ought.


Sorry it's a little grim, just having one of those moods.

A good one, Callidus. Yes it´s grim, but isn´t that what defines a real poet?

Seyda Neen, oh Seyda Neen
Your swamp like presence is quite unclean
A bog that's filled with rotting trees
And villagers that are seldom pleased
A single shop with shacks around
It is often loosely called a town
A murky haze hangs in the air
Whose pungent stench is hard to bear
Still though I find majesty
In the exquisite view of the open sea
The lighthouse with its torch aglow
Brings ships to rest and then to go
Unfortunate that your fate was sealed
When the mountain erupted with such zeal
Buried now beneath the ash
Your transient beauty lies in the past

Great work, Kiln!

Does this mean Seyda Neen is gone?

Well according to the lore (assuming my memory is correct) the majority of Morrowind, especially the Southern coast, is either covered in ash or destroyed as a direct result of the Ministry of Truth crashing into Vvardenfell.

That would mean that Vvardenfell has been more or less rendered uninhabitable.

Of this I don´t care,
cause at Solstheim I have my lair.
No volcanoes are here,
so we don´t live in fear.

But we should tread with care,
cause we do have wolves of were.
But at Thirsk we may feed.
And of course, drink some mead!

One I wrote ages ago over at Bethsoft, figured I'd throw it up here.

A land where sane and lunatic are very much the same,
A clarion call to heroes, adventure! fortune! fame!
A realm to be defended, and mighty foes be slain!
All of this and more awaits, on Sheogorath's plane.

A realm of dark seductresses, and veritable saints,
Beyond the bounds of sanity, and free of it's restraints,
A new land for exploring, insane but with a twist,
Where Mania and Dementia, in equal parts exist.

Mortals shall be summoned, a champion must rise,
Protect the Madgod's realm from the foe we most despise,
If mortal realm now bores you, your enemies grown tame,
Accept the Madgod's blessings, COME AND JOIN THE GAME!!!

Something not very good I wrote angrily in Social Studies.

Once upon a midmorn freezing,
I found my patience was decreasing,
From the room of id'yits teasing,
Teasing 'round the topmost floor.

Whilst my classmates then were buzzing,
My patience they were slowly crushing,
My aching head didst set to puzzling,
Puzzling on that topmost floor

Starbucks lattes they were drawing,
Like a seagull they were squawling,
All the while I was thinking,
All about that topmost floor.

Though scolded they were not silent,
Giggles, cackles ever strident,
My mood was nearly turning violent,
To clobber all that topmost floor.

Our teacher nobly didst remind us,
Of our morals, in hope to bind us,
But alas, indeed the virus,
Soon returned to that topmost floor

Yet again, my head was aching,
And my sanity set to shaking,
Such that I resigned to hearing,
Imbeciles, evermore!

That was so damn awesome.

You must of been really angry.....wanna be in my Rap Crew?

MC DB
-
I don't know who be-stowed this power to me,
but it looks like I'm the realest MC.
Did I also mention I'm the one and only DB!?
Dragonborn to the laymen,
even better on the mic than Paul Heyman.
My voice is like the force,
my sick mind is the source,
of all the dope rhymes,
I hope to pick you up during hard times.
So don't worry,
come,hurry,
come with me,
come and see,
the realest MC.
-------------------
State Of Rap
-
Talking bout yo crib,
that's a wet squib,
I rap bout what your afraid to rap about,
while your advertising Tout,
So shut your mouth!
Listen up,
lemme tell ya 'sup.
The world ain't a great place,
you can be locked up for your race.
Shot for pot,
made to rot because of who raised you,
keep a grudge against those that hazed you.
You dunno what you might do,
die after drinkin' too much brew?
Well I'm here to offer an escape,
I hope to escalate,you,
to,
happiness,
escape from the crapiness,of everyday livin',
but if I want,I'll change up and make you livid.
My lyrics will have you hysterics.
So watch out,
watch yo' mouth,
Twenty Fourth-teen,
Wipe the slate clean.
Here to change the rap game,
never gonna be the same,
you can call me lame,
but you only rap for the fame.
I rap for the people,
so keep your sheeple.
I invite those who want the truth,
to boot,the same old old.
Follow me and,
you can be,
the one's who SEE!

Spits rhymes so hot Hayley Williams would be jealous,
Some people say I'm over zealous about myself,
And they wouldn't be lying,
I'm gonna be keep bragging until I'm dying,
In fact I'm gonna brag about my skills on my death bed,
Yeah I got a big head.

Spit rhymes so hot Hayley Williams would be jealous,
Some people say I'm over zealous 'bout myself,
And they wouldn't be lying,
I'm gonna keep bragging until I'm dying,
In fact I'm gonna brag about my skills on my death bed,
Yeah that's right I got a big head.

When you brag you spark no intrest,
When I brag my quotes end up on Pintrest,
I'm a lyrical tactician,
My rhymes are shocking, Lyrical electrician,
I'm droppin' bombs on ya'all from the back of a gryphon,
Young but I got ambition,
I'm a natural born phonetician,
Now on to the next verse, transitation.

I'll kill your favourite rapper,
send their career down the crapper,
I'm the exucutioner,
An exhibitioner of Rap U,
A nerd through and through,
Yet I still decimate,
Yet you still underestimate,
Stop deneying, You still know I'm great.

You rap like you just had a lobotamy,
I rap like a robot, don't ya see?,
You rap like Cher Lloyd,
I plan out my rhymes like I'm John Boyd.

No one...no?

Ok...

A bit late for love poems, but whatever!

Techpriests are red

Jetbikes are blue

The Emperor protects

Me and you.

You should watch RollPlay:Dark Heresy on Youtube.

Ha! I was so on that shee already, brah.

Edit: Speaking of which, better go start that new thread...