Celtic's Miscellany thread

[Silver]

Well, I have a few things I feel are way to small for their own thread. Things such as limericks and small poems. While I'm definetely not all that organised, I found a few in the last few hours which I do plan on adding to. Odd scraps of this and that. In other words, celtic_silver's miscellany.

Feel Free to comment on any and every item here
Please remember however, most of these are tongue in cheek.

Freedom

A feeling to enjoy,
be you girl or boy.
A more valuabler thing,
than that owned by a king.
A feeling inside,
some cannot hide.
Looking at a soul,
without it a hole.
Lacking direcion,
ruleless and free.
Freedom.

The only deeper poem of my first few, I've held onto this one for almost a year now, I think.

And some of my infamous limericks :

I was once in a great fight,
with a guy of considerable might.
He didn't last one bout,
before I punched him out.
He sure got THAT right.

There was once a monstrous rat,
who was ever so fat.
He ate some cheese,
then had to sneeze,
then was eaten by a cat.

I found I had to sneeze,
cough, choke and wheeze.
Out in the dark,
I soon found my mark,
a soother, if you please.

There was once a cat named Jude,
who was a lttle crude.
He dug a hole,
in a pizza roll,
'cause he was in the mood.

Enjoy. And once again, feel free to comment.

[Shadow Of Darkness]

That Rat Rawks Dude !!!!!

Note by Vicky: Add more content, please. Don't make posts like this in the future. It's called spam.

[CLOUD]

7lol & o9.......Dammit Celtic, this reminds me even more of that friend i had at school who wrote poems & songs.

Both of you seem to be masters of the misc poetry & songmaking...Those things are what we call here " akyra "....sh*****, this is fraskered upp!!!!!! Keep this up man.

[Silver]

SoD: Despite the warning, I'm still LMFAO. Even now.
Cloudy: Thanks, dude. Love the MSN smilie references.
And thank's to everyone for reading.
Anyway here's some more:

Chaotic Reasonings (Another side to the story)

I hear about evil doers.
Have they no soul?
Is it true they are evil,
with a heart of coal?

Even coal can provide,
It's warmth few can hide.
Just needs to ignite,
then all will be right.

Laws can be simple,
they can even bind.
Few are really right,
many can blind.

I know there's no black,
I know there's no white,
without chaos,
a world has no right.

This is one I wrote while thinking. Noone is truly evil, right? It's all in the deeds...

Thorn in my Heel

There's a thorn in my heel,
it's pain I can feel,
intense and unreal.
A feeling surreal.

I cannot find it,
I feel it there,
a painful feeling,
ripping skin bare.

I shine a light,
can't see a thing.
It's ever so bright,
the pain makes me sing.

How can a thorn,
an uninvited guest,
cause me more scorn,
than a punch in the chest?

This one was inspired by some thoughts I had once again. As well as a literal thorn in my foot I picked up while walking. As I left it, I got blisters on top of blisters...

And finally, some more limericks I found lying around. I've certainly written a few. For better or worse :

Drinking too many a beer,
makes you lose your fear,
but in a brawl,
can make you fall,
and end up on your rear.

I once smoked a magical weed,
imaginings unbounded indeed.
I saw a pink whale,
and snow it did hale,
because my mind was freed.

I had me a bottle of booze,
it's power I needed to snooze,
I thought it was great,
a fine twist of fate,
until I started to shmooze.

Ever see my bat, WHAM?
It's power definetely no sham.
I pounded a guy,
right in the thigh,
and laughed as he yelled DAMN.

I once played a video game,
which I found unbelieveably lame,
It wasn't that long,
the visuals were all wrong,
don't know how it achieved it's fame.

Hope you enjoyed those.
And once again, feel free to comment.

[Storm]

Haha, good work Celtic!

Those limericks are hillarious, I espeially love the Magical Weed one. You have a knack of being of sharp wit, its great! Its also nice to see that you are a really good poet too, your poems are really deep and get you thinking. Few people can pull of being funny and being serious, so I guess youre one of the few people!

Keep up the good work, and post some more when you write/ find some more!

[Silver]

Thanks Storm, good to know you liked them. ^_^
I've had a few positive comments through posts and IMs. It means a lot to me guys.

So another update.

The Stain

I sit in the rain,
I see a blood stain.
Why can't it wash away?
I rub at it,
I use my spit,
But it still has to stay.

I get some bleach,
that stain I'll teach,
just how to go away.
I taught it great,
let me tell you mate,
but now I've seen a fray...

This one I wrote about cleaning a bloodstain outta one of my white shirts. And scrubbing the bugger made it fray instead. Dang.

And some more limericks, though these are far from my best. As I find them, I'll post them.

At a rave,
feel the wave.
Drink it down,
Sacred crown
Make the save.

Sitting in class,
no topped up glass,
forced to read,
what I'll never need.
What a farce...

I need some green,
cash I mean.
What can I do?
I checked through and through,
so hard it is obscene.

I was once not drunk,
feeling like a punk.
So I had a bottle,
I drained full throttle.
Now I'm feeling sunk.

Feel free to comment on any and every poem in this thread, including those from previous posts.

[Silver]

Okay, I know I'm double posting, but this is a sizeable update. Even found one of my longer poems from a while back.

Disillusionment

Righteous ideals,
golden thoughts.
Good for everyone.
Only killing minorities,
the poor and oppressed,
don't seem that good for some.

So listen to them,
the men of yesterday.
Hear them out,
preach and shout,
paycheck still to come,
One hellava large sum.

It's good for us all,
they'll say,
showing many a figure.
But it takes a real man,
a strong man,
to be a giver.

Will they fight alongside us?
It's their war after all.
Or will they stop and barely watch,
as men they start to fall?
They're certainly great leaders!
Of that I'm no believer...

People can spin a lie,
faster than others die.
And for what?
I wonder,
Justifiable or not?

This is one I wrote after talking with a mate. I started to see many a thing I didn't like in the area of world politics. It's a big piece for a big view.

Fighting Thoughts

Duck left,
feint right,
Punch up,
duck back.
Raise up the right,
jab with the left.
Spin, roundhouse kick.

Grab face,
knee up,
Headbutt.
When rising,
elbow slam.

Fighting thoughts,
learned through the fight.
The chaotic onslaughts,
administered with might.

When I fell,
I rose again.
In a hell,
rise again.

Don't give up,
won't take that smut.
Get up instead,
And send 'em to,
a hospital bed.

An irregular rhyme,
my fight's sublime.
Destroy you all,
before I fall.

And that one was about what goes through my head when fighting calm. Move after move, and nothing else. It's also the original source of 'rhyme sublime', in my works. The first poem I used that in.

And here are some more limericks.

Cute furry dude,
was looking for food,
I spyed that mouse,
inside my house,
looking rather shrewd.

Do not whine,
that cheese is mine.
I bought it cheap,
so could you, you freak.
Time for me to dine.

Looking at my phone,
feeling alone.
Alone like a jerk,
cause my mates 've got work
Holiday's drone.

I found a shiney disc,
in a packet labelled misc.
Inside stuff from the net,
origins I do forget,
possibly a risk.

Enjoy.

[Silver]

Just another three limericks for now.

I sit on a natural chair,
into space I start to stare.
Maybe they're delusions,
drugged thought conclusions,
but everything seems fair.

Gazing up at the ceiling,
I get a rather strange feeling.
I see a crack,
caused by a whack,
It'll need some healing.

Laying on my makeshift bed,
resting my weary head,
I down some rum,
and hope sleep will come,
else I'll feel more dead.

My jacket's warm,
it's in good form.
It maintains it's make,
and refuses to break.
Even in a fight or storm.

Feel free to comment.

[Silver]

Just another three limericks for now. Enjoy.
And it might be another while til my next update here. A few commitments and stuff, though soonish. A fortnight tops. Promise.

I once had a save on a card,
for a game that was a little hard.
I played and I played,
But then I was dismayed,
someone finally killed my bard.

I absently picked a flower,
it made me see my power.
No-one had cried,
though the flower had died,
a life given by rain's shower.

I once took a punch to the head,
behind a rusted shed.
The shot was rounded,
and I did feel pounded,
but unluckily for him I wasn't dead.