Generic Poetry Thread

Post either your favorite poems* or ones you have written yourself for some constructive criticism.

*Please give credit where credit is due.

Wanna try that again for those of us far too lazy to use google translate? Jerk

Alone am I and alone I wish to be,
Alone my gentle friend has left me,
Alone am I, with neither master nor companion,
Alone am I, in bitterness and in pain,
Alone am I in tormented lamentation,
Alone am I much more than any wandering soul,
Alone am I and without a friend remain.

Alone am I at door or at the window,
Alone am I when huddled in the corner,
Alone am I and have shed my fill of tears,
Alone am I, whether mourning or consoled,
Alone am I,--and nothing suits me so--
Alone am I shut up inside my chamber,
Alone am I and without a friend remain.

Alone am I in every place and state,
Alone am I, where e'er I go or sit,
Alone am I much more than any earthly thing,
Alone am I, by one and all forsaken,
Alone am I and deeply down am sunk,
Alone am I and so often drowned in tears,
Alone am I and without a friend remain.

Prince, now is my pain begun.
Alone am I, as every grief afflicts me,
Alone am I, by darkness overtaken,
Alone am I and without a friend remain.

I found this one on the internet. It's called "Using the Backdoor".

If we compare writing computer code to sex,
then hacking would be anal sex.

On Having A Boyfriend With OCD

He was always turning the lights on and off,
opening and closing the door, counting as he went:
thirty-six, thirty-seven, thirty-eight, thirty-nine, forty.
Eventually I had to tell him that if he kept opening the door,
we'd have a whole bunch of house intruders
before the night was through. He responded by trying to kiss
me once,
then ended up kissing me twenty-three times, then once more
for an even twenty-four. Then he had to redo two of them
because "our mouths hadn't been quite aligned."
Some nights I'd wake up with the moon soaking the bedsheets,
listening to the sound of him repeating the word "fuck"
over and over: he'd stubbed his toe on the bathroom doorway
but couldn't stop swearing once he'd started.
I fell back asleep after staring at my pillow
until the floral patterns burned into my eyelids,
dreamt the two of us went to an opera but instead of beautiful,
tremulous voices rising high into the air,
two sopranos were singing "fuck"to the tune of La Traviata.
He apologises the next day, says the new medication
made him feel like shit all the time so he took himself off it;
I responded that it probably made him feel that way
because it was working.
Two days later the ambulance comes and takes him away:
he'd accidentally cut one of his wrists with the steak knife
chopping carrots for stew
but couldn't have just one cut wrist;
he had to have two.

~ Meggie Royer