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I feel it like blackness spreading and dripping through my heart

I haven't posted art here in awhile I'm down with it.

hey just wrote something real quick, lemme know what you think

///A Walk///

Leaves seem to disappear...
as the seasons go on;

grassy fields and dark nights
the moons reflection;

resting on the surface
of a clear muddy pond;
i ponder the changes
from a newborns perspective

ignorance is bliss
henceforth i exist;
in a constant struggle with
no other...
than what exists

so when i talk;
pay no attention...
to what comes from my lips
i don't know of which i mention
and...

since;
i don't know what you were taught
i ought to stop my steps
and howl at the moon...
soon...
yea....soon...
but for now;
i'll just continue my walk

that's pretty awesome... you should put clouds in the background or something

i wasn't able to download your link cuz i don't have flash on this computer. but i recommend. not to go against what the guy above said. but cuz it'll help you in the long run. to learn FBF. tweens are an easy way to get things moving but looking at your work in the art portal you could do wonders with a little elbow grease and practice.

but alas...i tween the shit out of things...you should learn both methods. just search the word tutorial on newgrounds or "flash tutorial" on google and you'll find some good stuff.

good luck with everything

i think all of the poems were pretty good. funnyhomeboy i don't think the cops being protectors in your poem was bad. its a poem you're suppose to go out of the box with it. and i think the kid said amen cuz his prayers were answered..there's nothing wrong with that coming from a kid whose suffered abuse...calling the cops blue men was different though... it was an interesting poem

raethen: yours was funny.. good plot. out of the box too

i's be first...here tis be

///Fight///

Cracked jaws, Bloody knuckles
Blacktop, Iron fences

sinister smiles
and minds so demented

in front of apartments;
heavy breathing, strong pants

stand two armstrong guys;
neither one named lance

at the first chance
they charge

bombard a blaze of jabs;
abroad from the face
to what could have made them dad

some say it's sad;
and it's just not right.
but hey........ it's just a fight.

hmm the votings still goin on but its seem you won this one shortmonkey. lol alright well ima do another poem cuz i'm bored n need to start sleepin before 10 freakin am...iight well

///Obtaining the Distance///

full throttle;
just means you're traveling faster into the distance

chasing a horizon;
that never comes close enough

though sometimes...
just sometimes...
you think you might touch it
and feel the gases that surround this rock we live on

then you blink...
and you wake up

alarm clock going off.

tis be first again. i had to look up nightingale and satire. lol

///birdbrain///

oh you fly;
that must be fun

you live in the same house as a bum

you eat worms;
oh that's so yum

that reside in the earth
the grime and the grum

life of leisure;
aerobatic features

oh;
such a wonderful creature

summer, fall
you leave in cold seasons

but we call you a bird brain for a reason

lol idk...i kinda felt bad talking about a bird like that for no reason.

At 3/21/10 11:09 PM, ShortMonkey wrote:

At 3/21/10 09:53 PM, Ponz wrote: ///fuck yo couch. dear shortmonkey///

I CHALLENGE PONZ!

i accept your duel good sir. meet me on the hill at high noon

At 3/21/10 04:54 PM, ShortMonkey wrote:
Looking forward to your next poem... there better be capitals though! :P

lol for you shortmonkey. this one shall be called

///fuck yo couch. dear shortmonkey///

on the blackest night
during the clearest day
sits alone;
a nineteen
that cannot be swayed

capitals are gay
he proclaimed in a way
that stood out;
in the forum
of newgrounds gray

fuck yo couch;
my dear shortmonkey

fuck your B's;
they're too extra lumpy

see
i like my b;
with one bump on the bottom

the same i like ladies ass;
when i smack them up and swat'em

so here i will conclude;
i'm not trying to be rude
but fuck yo couch;
shortmonkey

my literature shall remain crude.

lower mo'fo case. lol

lmao

:: i didn't wanna put a one word response....
orange soda

At 3/21/10 09:48 AM, ShortMonkey wrote:

A differently written poem which seems about people that are looking for something, an answer, to fill their empty void which they try to fill by doing the incorrect acts. I thought it wasn't too bad but it wasn't that great either.

Also, ever heard of something called capitals? They're wonderful things. Really, they are :P

yea thanks, i tried switching it up some. your analysis wasn't bad at all...pretty spot on actually. and nahh fuck capitals lol. FUCK CAPITALS.....was that ironic?...shrug...

///Stationed///

the world's like a dirty dish
that everyone eats
off of

your life is just another fish
in this ocean
where we all swim

the heart is made of meat and fat
that mixes the
pain and love

to the soul
another soul
that doesn't know where to begin

so we sin
if for no other reason
just to past time

and look forward
to the future
cuz we can't rewind

but our heads
get heavy;
and so do our eyes

staring down
at the present
stuck; in our demise

At 3/19/10 12:31 AM, Ravariel wrote: <shatner>POOOOOOOOOOOOONZ!!!</shatner>

I will have my revenge ;P

Seriously, good battle. I probably would have voted for yours as well, had I no conflict of interest. :D

hahaha ima guess that was a startrek reference. good battle man it was a close one

cool i'm first. i got comical at the end

//tankman//

he leans against the tank
ashing his last cigarette
gun on his back
and a helmet full of sweat

he takes a step
flash back of past regret
had to hold up some innocent
in a town he just left

just west;
the paranoia blends
when you have to defend
what's laying in your chest

the last time he slept
he dreamt of bombs and alarms
went off in the desert
where hidden faces crept

he hears a crash;
wonders what's next
it's a pity
can't remember the last time he had sex

the grains feel gritty in his boot
shooting the breeze
controlled stress
can't wait til he's relocated to belize

bitches and hoes.

keep up the work can't wait to see what you do

idk where ima go with this one...so here we go

raindrops hit like percussion
against the black topped earth
destruction,
ever so slightly
it seems the worlds curse
to die,
ever so slow
every passing day

so;

fuck women and get money
til your body rest
in it's grave

i'd love critique on some of my stuff

working on my timing/spacing/etc. i tried something different with this one. lemme know if you like it

sitting in a hotel lobby
writing is my hobby
what's it like
for those that don't have one

boring;
probably
perhaps my words are too sloppy
to correctly explain
why my soft tongue

yearns for words;
craves for a sentence
to leave off onto my lips
then touch the cool air

though i know i said writing
speaking's the same
for the love of words;
they both share

so when i asked what's its like;
not to write
don't take it as an end

i'm simply asking;
for the sake of asking
why haven't you;
picked up a pen

Bored

I don't know what to say
still lost
still lost
my hearts still away
my souls still gone
my minds still wrong
but no matter what i say
its still my song
so i could act happy
put up a facade
or i could stay true
and let my head nod
not for shame
but for i mourn
for the day
my life
my heart and soul worn torn

lemme know wat you think/critique. still accepting topic requests

bored...so....i'll make something up right now

procrastinating
always waiting
people racing
rats in a maze and, its blatant

nobody wants saving
dreams of the hero's tale
dragon, bears, and lions
damsals under silky veils

but forreal
let's have a heart to heart
a hero's days are dark
from the battles that he's fought

the path's that he's walked
the bodies that he's chalked
the blood that he's spilled
and the lessons that he's taught

so naught
i say naught to a hero
cuz your just a bridge away
from the land on a zero

(a bridge away means two things the way i wrote it. 1st. the letter "H" resembles a bridge and Hero and Zero are one letter away. and 2nd. that the life of a Hero could change over night if he messes up. shame. etc. think Hancock or something.) hope you like it. also if anybody wants to say a subject i'll gladly write a poem using it.

At 2/23/10 10:37 PM, Cataclysmic-Action wrote: Dude you could be a rapper, hah! No offense, I think your poems are special and unique in their own way, same with everybody else's. I don't rhyme, and if I do, it's by chance. If you have a singing voice, you should try your hand at rap lol ;D

thanks man. i rap too. i didn't take it offensive

boreeedd....here's another one

crazy shit in an daily kinda manner
walking down the street and just get bitten by a panther
why's a panther in the city
i don't have that kinda answer
got kicked the face by some exotic dancer
man this day's just weird
thing's are never crystal clear
sitting in the drivers seat
but don't wanna steer
my house is so near
the grass is right here
i'll just lay down
next to this skunked beer

idk...conscious..i..something

fix me up
break me down
i used to be a mime
i used to be a clown
i float in the air
i flow through the sound
i try not to care
but i always stay bound
cuz
to be conscious
is to be conscious of others
so i hope i find
another lost brother

just got an idea from a commercial. so here i be
i call it: Connection

my computers got spyware
hardware lags
it processes the data
but it always moves back
23 percent
24
back to 11
sitting here waiting
for holy transgression
through technology
we teach and learn some lessons
just make sure
that you have a good connection

lol damn...i meant old seafoam green.

i'm glad you liked it here's another on

walking through the middle
you might ask what that is
between the boid of grown
and a lost little kid
clothes through the room
cluttering the floor
cup on the table
and wallpaper tore
paint starts to chip
old seafoam roam
leviathan lays;
under calm scenes

cool story. what's your first language

thanks man. here's another one

the titles: Hope

boom bat bat
cracked another black bottle
smashed it til the hollow pieces fell into apollo
blasted through the stars
all that mattered was tomorrow
took a shot of gin just to drown his past sorrows
placing down his cup
he took a deep breath;
stepping from his chair
pushed off the arm rest
as much as he wished
to feel the rhythm of his chest
he felt no beat;
cuz his heart already left

so boom bat bat
goes another cracked bottle
in the alleys of the lost
where souls seems to wallow
the spirits come cold
so its numb to the swallow
nobody here leads;
nobody here follows
living solo
didn't always mean lonely
but the definitions changed
so fuck yall