Our English poems

When u feel down, lean on words, u would get better, hic, just my experience. One more thing, just write down what you like, don't ever care about how people would perceive it.

V 'n B

Vulnerable and Breakable
Nonsense and Rubbish
Careless and conceited
That’s what he is

Initial cue I did realize
But just trying to make it fine
Aspiring to reap a friendship
It glacially made me cry

Vulnerable and breakable
How dare I bombast about myself?
Just a pledge,
No way, to hallow in this hell.

He’s falling and what can I do?
I can’t fend for myself
Can’t continue to pursue
I have everything, exclude a clue.

Me, myself and I
Vulnerable and breakable
But realistic and sustainable
Tangible, I’m a fighter.

A new day is a brighter day
Within my step, stays my wish
My wish for everyone, my wish for him
Though I’m alone, I would be extreme.
 
meo, not down, that's getting up. If u read the first "masterpiece" of mine, hehe.
 
Long time no poem yet...This is for you:

A lull

It was
Just the hesitation
Quite small
Of an interlude

In ten days, just ten days
Whether the wave would come
Or would go. I’m waitin’…coz
The panic, surely will flow

I’ve been beset by fear,
Apparently with no tear,
But I steered away from that
Plus, the dream frontier…was too near…

No, not b’coz of ability
No, not b’coz of emotions
No, not b’coz of attitude
Haha, I’ve found out the answers that soothe, …really.

I tried to catch a glimpse of him
A glimpse of her
I plopped so sweetly into the lure_ (but you came…and…)
Thank you, so much, for givin’ me a cure.

“ The crust!”
How couldn’t I find it out in my dictionaries?
How couldn’t I get it though it was always with me?
You just smiled and said: “Baby, the crust hassled your free”

You possess the fangs of a white fear
You store in you a cynical superficial spirit
Yet you can light the deep interior I inhabit,
Thank you, so much, for the word…and the cheer.

Less vocally but freely
Less glossy but Chrisy
Hey Word, your author is so great,
You know? you’ve purged the mud in me.

People come and people go
But success plunge into then success grow
The squabbling bunch around, needs caring yet?
Hah, noone knows, it’s just a lull, and I wouldn’t swallow.


To you: I’ve absorbed it, thanks so much, the pit of nothingness, I swear, would never devour my spirit. Now that you can hear me, right?
 
DOWN BY THE SALLEY GARDENS

Down by the salley gardens my love and I did meet;
She passed the salley gardens with little snow-white feet.
She bid me take love easy, as the leaves grow on the tree:
But I, being young and foolish, with her would not agree.
In a field by the river my love and I did stand,
And on my leaning shoulder she laid her snow-white hand.
She bid me take life easy, as the grass grows on the weirs;
But I was young and foolish, and now I'm full of tears.

W.B.YEATS
 
To H?ng: Your poems are really impressive. You have the potential of becoming a poet :) . Do you ever think of publishing a collection of poems? you should, dear ;)
 
Chỉnh sửa lần cuối:
Thought this was funny so I posted it. (Well, it's something one produces when one finds oneself stuck with the finals with neither energy nor inspiration to move on.)

In Class Poetry Writing (prep #4)

Dr. Hafer said,
In class today,
Write a poem
Based on Langston Hughes’
But is of your own
I wonder if this is simple
I’m eighteen, with lots of pimples,
Yet I have written no poems.
I’m from Vietnam, a place far away,
So far away that after each journey in between the two countries,
You laugh night, sleep day.
Back home, I studied literature.
From Chinese to Vietnamese writings, I swallowed them all.
Writings and poems with implications and rhythms,
That make those illiterate like me poor victims.
Refusing to fathom the poems, I chose to sit at the bottom,
Wishing I would never have to recite any poems
And never get called up.
But I always got called up.
I learned poems by heart, day and night.
Murmuring the words from midnight, till the day is bright.
My bed was hardwood; it was cold and dark. Yet I could see the stars
The stars of dreams—of where I would soon be…
Here I am, writing a poem,
Which none shall ever have to remember,
For this poem is for those who have poem-phobia.
 
Chỉnh sửa lần cuối:
Inspirational Night
Here I am,
Bathing in the golden light of the dearest moon above.
I leave my soul,
Floating along with the dark velvety satin of night.
Has listened to my story, oh thou silvery stars,
Now looking at me, sparkling and lovely as my darling's eyes.

Oh these stones, seem quiet, but yet, so thoughtful.
They understand and cherish my tunes
And songs about the one I love...

Ah wind! Here's my wish, please to take!
And deliver it, through many mountains and lakes
To anyone, for love, has seek.
So they will enjoy the beauty of night!
 
Chỉnh sửa lần cuối:
Kewl poem man. I got a few suggestions for ya though. (I know these changes might affect your poem's rythm, so don't look at them if you don't want to)

Hath thou listened to my story, oh silvery stars
...
Oh these stones, seemingly quiet, but...

Ah wind! Here's my wish, please take (them away? "please to take" means you are please to take)

.....for love hath sought (something goes here?)

cheers man
 
No.5
"I'm falling
Deep down in the hole of sadness.
I'm heading
For the eternity of nothingness..."
Human's stresses:
Creating trouble themself and claiming to be depressed...
 
Chỉnh sửa lần cuối:
ISN'T IT LONELY?
( inspired by Carnival Town of Norah Jones)

She could be a fool for a while…
But two years
Slipping by…
was accused of gulping all her smiles
Her waiting been decayed to its roots
For the beating words, grabbing her soul…

Prying eyes
Cuttin’ all cords of friendship
They move so far, deep to her darkest mute
Does anyone love to travel to her mind?
To see so ravaged it’s been…in fright

Scattered feelings
Making’ her weird, in people’s eyes
The serrated edges…in that soul
Endeavoring to be smoothed
For so kind in someone…wiping all these moods
Of hers

She could be a fool for a while….
But one year
Throbbing by…
Freshly was just a shallow rapture
Stealing trust from her heart
Granting her unwinking wakefulness for the eyes of soul

Don’t they know she love them?
Don’t they know she is hurt?
Don’t they ever look on her heart? And tell what she thinks?

The bustling laughter does not make sense
And consoling was just fake
Behind her back, the blaming heralds rift
Was she wrong or were they wrong?
Isn’t it better if she resents their actions?
Isn’t it better if she acts athwart their thinking?
Isn’t it better if she is just a vagrant intruder in their lives?
Isn’t it…?

She wants to redeem all this
to unfetter herself from her own tormentor
Lord, please swiftly goad them into her wish
Please let them not tint her spirits once more
To the hue of an ebbed shore
impuissant in a moonless night.
 
to Trần Anh Dũng: Well, thanks, bro! But please just let it be like that, lol! Let my words carry out their duties by fairly accepting them, not by strictly interpreting them hehe :) !
 
Chỉnh sửa lần cuối:
Toàn Nguyên, i love your "inspiration night", it sounds jazzy, lovely, peaceful, just like some song by Norah Jones. It is really great.
 
well, "Inspirational night" will be posted on EHAO home page next week and Hang's "Isn't it lonely?" the week after that. Congrats! :)
 
No.6 ( Hesitation)
I've been lost in the realm of life.
Dark tunnel - no one beside!
Lo! Ahead, there's an open gate
Is it real, or just a lie?
 
Chỉnh sửa lần cuối:
Dear Mr. The Best
You vow to be my best friend
And then my best man
You don’t think I can
Find a better one
I thought the same once
You were my dream
You were perfect
I tried to change
I struggled, I strived, I strained
To live up to ideals
Which were not mine
They were yours
They were not real
The girl you want is not real either
Don’t know why I have to be her.
I can’t live that way
I leave you
You say I will regret later
Are you sure?
I never regret , only the weak regret.
Neither am I sad
I am sitting reading the letters you just sent me
They make me laugh
Please don’t say you miss me
Unless you can’t stop thinking of me
And don’t use the word “love”
Unless you want to die for me.




How does this sound? ;)
 
and another one. Actually, my so-called poem is just a train of thoughts.. it doesn't really have rythm at all :D

Yeah, you are back
Such a playboy
You beg me
Your voice is sweet
Sweeter than before
But it is not the voice of a boy
Why are you so weak?
I feel sorry for you
I feel sorry for me too
Why did I love you once?
Wait, are you crying, my little baby?
Please stop
Don’t make me more disappointed
That’s not the way I thought of you
Don’t ruin the last image of you I have always kept
Deep inside my heart
Don’t make me regret
The tears I cried when you left
Please stop
I would rather love a playboy than a little weak kid.
 
Intentionally or not, Diệu Hương had used the modern American poem styte in her "train of thoughts" with a strict but switf formula: temporal thoughts+emotional waves+ song-liked rthythm. Excelent job, Hương!
 
Here comes another seemingly inappropriate poem for a moonless night....


X and Me vs D12 and Em

Just listened to My Band,
so wrinkled piece that I can’t stand
Fancy what Christina would say
To make him tingle in a blush of shame

“Your band” calls us chicks and
Oh yah, a boy has five and he’s a man
A girl with two is called a whore?
Oh man, there’s nothing like such a law

Girls not marsh, we’re not bad
Check your dumpass and rash head
And see who is mad?

Hah, Eminem
Watch your zenith
Full of shallow words and
Empty **its
Fallacious and petty dank
Teeming with morbid fancies and cranks

I feel sorry for you and my boys
Worshiping you n’blaring your voice
Wish that Xtina would be here,
Right now, with me!
To iron the poor ripples on your face.
Hah, because “ I’m the lead singer of my band…”
So we’ll withstand you man
Shut the “situps” and “ stage fans”
Look at the boys under her pants
And tell us, is tomorrow in your or our hands?
 
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