Title: Lingo Poem: The inventions bearing your heart Are far too close to our homes. They're lifting your small spirit into castles Made like plastic and platinum domes. You're almost twenty-seven And that's the time for making dreams. Yet from the comfort of your prison Maybe time is not as it seems And you're yelling out loudly When you're drowning in the shower. I feel more than a spark; Where did you get all this power? You pretend it's just more rain When you're crawling on all fours. If life gets too boring for you Then you can come explore the outdoors Instead of just falling asleep, But that's where my mind goes: To an imaginary world for nobody, But that's where your kind grows. I've given up on holding certainty Until I find something to keep. While on a road without company My mind will never, ever sleep. Maybe there will more more harmony Once again my tired eyes weep. They're employed in supposed comfort, But they still won't ever, ever sweep.
Title: Re: A Season Poem: Who are you To tell me What I see? If I cannot decide I'm undermined But you couldn't be What you say you are Honestly I can't say If you'll be mine I am me Deep blue sea Reaching below free But lasting demands Much contraband Explain to me Explicitly Without fees Why this sufficient wind Cannot be a breeze All these fading aberrations Make for grossly abhorrent occasions And yet you fail to understand Why you're in high demand Won't you Turn me loose Rescue me from my dues And undue plans Or undue bans Don't say Don't worry Without an afterward Using everlasting thyme Spicing up our lives
I get the impression you're a rather active and energetic person, who believes life (and happiness?) lies 'out there' to be grabbed. You're also quite the dreamer. Someone with strong emotions, and a desire to experience a strong emotional bond with someone. You are searching... for love? That one girl from your dreams? Your poems reveal a lot of who you are, very good! I also like much of the imagery you use. Good luck in your endeavors. And life and stuff. ^^
Wow! You're a real poet! It took me ages to read all your poems and you're rather good. Some of my favorites are: -'In Darkest Places, Love is Carried by Nightingales' -Junebug -Bare Attempts -Two, Please I really like your writing style, but I can't comment much since i'm not really formally trained in poetry/ creative writing. I quite enjoyed the wordplay in 'Junebug', and the descriptive language in ' In the Darkest Places, Love is Carried by Nightingales'. You seem to craft the the familiar with your original thoughts quite well. I also found it interesting with your teachers and their indoctrination/ dogma of the 'show don't tell' affair. Thank you for sharing your story.
Title: Happening Poem: I'm taking a chance For you to see I like that this is Happening to me Of all the things That I could be To wander free Yet subject myself, mercilessly To days of objectivity Call it happenstance: I've fallen already What have you in store? Maybe you do understand You make my world a wonderland And maybe you, if you understand Could understand my understatement here But that's not what I fear Do you listen or do you hear? If you take a chance And let me be If you wait with time So patiently My dear We could be what happens Now and here You read them all? Wow! Any comment here is of value to me. Thanks for telling me which ones you liked! That really helps. I've generally dabbled in what I perceive to be four distinct styles: abstract, romantic, storytelling and comedic. You mention three of those types, which tells me that I've begun to progress in those areas. That alone is a substantial amount of information. And, to be fair, I don't think I've posted many abstract emotional poems here. Thank you so much!
Title: Tattoo Ink Poem: Mostly imposing our politics Of our sadly mistaken bureaucrats Our fluffy titans of industry Can ink you down in misery Half-written hope so underlined Worth thousands of words Yet unrefined And undermined We're placing stones That never fade In hollow homes Standing tall in our house's shade We're hanging tassels To adorn barns on farms When we're writing castles On Cassandra's arms They're stumbling down Drugged so dumb But still they see clearer Than rules of the thumb It's a prologue before We can truly start Turning every hour Into a work of art When our thoughts roam And words break on the wind You color the books Starting at the end When you paint on your skin You know we're not listening To your dirty tracks Upon our amphetamines
Title: Cursive Poem: I might sound like a record on repeat when I ask for the beat, and I feel my heart is skipping one like we're playing three to none. But I've walked down those halls, and tasted dirt after those falls. I'll say with relative ease that guilt is only a memory tease. Sunsets and sunrises can be quite perilous and neither go well with jeans. Maybe when I'm tired of thinking forward I can figure out what waiting means. So deal me in, let me play my hand, send my request to the band, and if we play our cards right there will be plenty more songs and nights like tonight. In defense of my cruel world which has -so far- been hurled, tossed around, to and fro, I confess I don't know how much I didn't know. I know I hardly seem like I'm fearless but this might be in my genes. Maybe when I'm not trying too hard I can figure out what knowing means.
Title: Waiting Poem: If you think of things you want And then you count your blessings You'll see one is less and one is more If you lose sight of your heart And you think only of yourself I'd say that's rich but you're still poor We're waiting On a wall to fall I'm waiting On a world too small I've built many bridges With my tired, broken tools I've barely got it in me to build another And I've met many girls And though each of them is unique Still, I've never met one like my mother We're counting On different days I'm counting On separate ways If you're going to ask why you're alone Or why boys are all the same Perhaps you should consider this instead That both boys and girls break hearts And each in their own measure But what's broken can be fixed if it is fed We're seeing Each others' colors I'm seeing A chance
Title: Raindrops Are Your Friends Poem: Using your hat as a shield You block out all resistance Letting all the little things you feel Abandon you for consistency. But why would you retaliate Assuming their nature is offensive? If only for a moment, contemplate How the damage you're doing is extensive. You need to let yourself out So you can let them in. They'll follow you farther No matter where you've been. Your umbrella can't protect your boots. They step through many puddles. When they're splashing on your sole You go back to your roots. When you dance like a child With your eyes softer than clouds The raindrops will slide across your cheek, But smile before you frown Because you have to let them in, Not push them out. Maybe then you'll answer me And we'll walk away from doubt.
Title: Touched Twice Poem: It's so superfluous, or maybe trite, but not humorous: how you leave in the night. I hope with each word, the ones I do and don't hear, that even the absurd will assuage my fear. In my eyes, when you think, you're hoping I'll revise my world into shades of pink. All I know now with the utmost certainty is I don't know how to be what you project onto me. The way I see it there's nothing else to understand except that it's fit that these words are contraband. I might not know much about how to be good, but even seeing as it's such I think maybe I could.
Title: Anathema, I Poem: Don't say it's hopeless just because you're out of breath. And if you do, I hope you see how I'm losing our game of sudden death. It's just, without your warmth, I only see two bitter eyes in the morning light. With each new day I have less and less will to rise. I feel like time could be drifting, passing by. But I don't know: where will it stop or reach up and take to the sky? Without the moon the stars can seem three times as bright. Without you my life can't hold on to any of their light. So here I sit, between yesterday and today. And of those two, which might bring me closer to you and the words you say? I cannot hear any sort of comforting sound. And if I did, I wouldn't know it. I might ask you what I've found. There's never change. Why do we break when we can bend? Because if we do, we don't go farther, and often that will be the end.
Title: Smoothing Out the Wrinkles Poem: I wake up each day to tomorrow's yesterday. I really don't care that much what you say. My lips are broken and words are uncaring. My mind is missing and my heart is not repairing. If you don't answer your phone at all will you forget my words? Clearly, I recall every word you spoke when we were alone. Now it's just me and my silent phone. If this is the disease then I'm questing for a cure. But there's not much left that you could call pure. I carry this weight on my back everywhere. Every time I see a fire I'm reminded why it's there. If you don't answer when I'm feeling scared, and the way it happens finds me unprepared, don't go all in just to fold your hand. Maybe if I explain you will understand. I feel so abused, constantly used, constantly asking why I'm refused: not the little things, those are fine. I've got money but I can't buy your time. Without someone to give to everything's empty of meaning. This might arouse feelings of envy in some who perceive my grief is misplaced. "There's nothing she has that can't be replaced" except for her laugh and her happy smile. If I hear her laugh once then my day's worthwhile. But that's an illusion, mirrors and smoke, I'm only funny because I'm a joke. I relied on you so much, completely, and I know there's other guys who can beat me, but if I could be somebody's best then I could lay my heart and mind to rest. I'll show everybody and make you see that there is someone out there for me. This wasn't the path that I preferred, but now you're just a dream deferred. If you don't answer when I call your name should I assume things will never be the same? Don't say there's a chance on another day. I'll find someone else: that's what it means to find a way.
Hey, here's a little update: If you're noticing that there's not much new content in this thread as of late, you're correct! I've still been producing new material, but now it's being revised and (hopefully soon) being sent off to different periodicals for the purposes of being published. I'd like to thank anyone who has commented here or read these poems for their support, and if you have yet to read these in their entirety, I invite you to do so. Any of my material that gets published will be added here, along with an extra annotation telling you where exactly you might find it out in the world. It's been a long journey, and I hope to continue down this road. Thanks again, and I hope to keep updating this thread with new information, poetry, and updates. See you then!
for some reason i am rapping 'in my mind' to these songs XD...well take Nirnaeth Arnoediad for example. there are parts in there where you rap and then sing normally .....if you know what i mean? - - Auto Merge - - including the last one i just read...wow im a good singer in my head xD
That's awesome! I'll keep that in mind the next time I'm writing. I know exactly what you mean, and I also find that I sound much better in my head as well. Thanks for reading!
I have but one criticism: You are far better at this than I am. I used to write poetry all the time but I was never any good at it. You clearly have a talent for this sort of thing. I look forward to seeing more of it in the future.
^ Is pretty dang cool < Has fuzzy nipples Is teh fluffy pony :derpe: V Can juggle at least one jar of pickles.
Thank you kindly, sir. I appreciate your compliments, as well as the fact that you've taken the time to view these. There will definitely be more content here in the future.
