I mean Reina help me to do some correction yesterday.
And thanks for the correction.
I mean Reina help me to do some correction yesterday.
And thanks for the correction.
Oh right... I getcha now Oh well... hehe.
That which you manifest is before you.
Oh.. a poem thread. This is interesting, and i also read the other poems as well. Really awsome. Here's my contribution to this tread now...
I did this poem hmm, someone in august i belive and it was and is.. for a very special person ^^ . Ok , here it goes
I ask you, what is life livinng for
Is it love ,lust, desire, dream or maybe fate?
Or for something you are longing for?
Are you seeking something great?
Can't you see that's all just too poetic
All you ever need is right beside you
Are you that blind too see it all?
Or are you doing this on purpose?
You hurt me everytime you long for another
Seeing as no one else is there to bother
I don't want no more from you, but just...
Just for you to see me there.
I stand in the dark,watching, waiting
It is all clear for me now
Can't you see me past the shourd of darkness?
Come, i'll show you how it feels.
Standing emotionless in the cold
As no one hears you, sees you, ignores you
Now go..go away from this lair of darkness
I love you to much to see you in that dispair
Ok, this is kinda depressing and it's about a guy from a story I wrote a long time ago, it's spoken by the girl who loved him. Theres was a tragic love, since he was a complete twat to her.
Your voice brings a bitter chill
Cold and calm and after me
It causes my everything to still
Love me, hold me, let me be.
Your fingers are cold
Heart made of stone
The words have gotten old
But they still chill my bone
Please just hold my hand
Don?t let me lose my way
Take me through this land
The land of yesterday
Bitter tears sting my cheeks
You?re pain is with me still
Memories help me through the weeks
But I fear you?ll get more ill
Years have passed now
And you are gone
I?ll live, though I don?t know how
I?ll never forget you, John
Sometimes the darkest and most gloomy of poems are the best ones, because I think that everyone can relate to them, therefore, everyone writes their own
Very nice poems Son-Goku and Cleto.
I think you may be right there. For some reason I find it much easier to write more depressing poems than happy ones, maybe because it is so much easier to think of depressing things than really happy thoughts... I dunno.Sometimes the darkest and most gloomy of poems are the best ones, because I think that everyone can relate to them, therefore, everyone writes their own
That which you manifest is before you.
Exactly. Like it's easier to do something that's bad for you, than something that'll benefit you, you know? It's weird...
Poems...Well, here's one from a friend...She's really good
Tattered and Stoned
Eyes dare weakly
Trace along such edge
Crusted over from day's on soaking
But pain screeching through one's head.
Dusk has left
A savior treat for who
Burning be that blade that so
Mutilated you
Punishment is enticing
For one in maddening's days
Pleasure be so enlightening
At the cost of another's pay
Blood so drip
Like the waterfall
That now pours down your cheek
To remember the stones
That were tossed upon you
Leave you weak and at death's peak
And tattered all
That so come to past
As the light so dwindles down
The blade, the stones, the shreds of clothes
Forgotten like you,
Alongside the crusted edge.
_____________________
It's ok? I hope..
Twilight I absolutly love it!
I love the rythm of the verses and the word order, it's so wonderfully written! Such awesome work.
23/9/05 To Weep with the Earth
I cry these floods of mine
As the world turns shades of grey
Swallowing me in its misery
There's no escape this time
The world dissolves around me
A sorry, angry mist
'till there is but a carcass left
Nothing more to see
It was the earth, the world
I would sit on it in pain
But now I cry not just for me
But for my home unfurled
And in the silnce deepening
I hear another voice
A haunting song of deepest pain
The world, as well, is weeping
In aching unison we mourn
For everything there used to be
For all things old
For all things born
Each of us torn apart
The sounds of souls in pieces
I'd never known there's been so much
Weighing on our hearts
As my tears hit ashen ground
They slowly seep away
I fear into lifelessness
Before I hear just one more sound
The sweetest voice on all the earth
Sweeping all around me
I search for its owner
Instead I witness birth
The ashen blanket peels slowly back
From the world it hides
Revealing much new tender growth
Which did no colour lack
Still I didn't cease to cry
But my tears were not of pain
Just joy as I saw new life
And stars up in the sky
Seeing a flower so vibrant red
I tenderly reached out
Its silken petals were summer warm
"Oh precious flower." I said
"You see death but you are life
Nothing is more clear
Please show me how to be like you
Your beauty is not rife"
I gently clasped it to my chest
And looked over the earth
A new day just happy to be
Is what I never would have guessed
I smiled out upon earth's field
It shone warmly back
To be happy is life itself
And it's what our hearts did build
-----------------------------------
Is it just me or is the ending a little bit corny I think it's mainly just the last verse I don't like.
And this one is an older poem, one that I never thought I'd post, but here I am posting it, hehe, I also used a few lines of this poem on a picture I drew early this year
22/2/05 A Passion
The throb of my heart, my body, my soul
It's stronger than an ocean's waves,
The fire you ignite within me
Spreads faster than a forest's flames.
The comfort I feel in your presence
Is greater than ever I'd dreamt,
But the loneliness I feel without you
Is the most immeasurable event.
I long to be with you, always beside you
Feeling your breath on my skin,
The caress of your lips up against mine
A passion of fiery pleasures within.
To feel your warm curves up against me
Our bodies entangling with love,
My soul flies on the wings of a being
A soft, white, feathery dove.
The peace that it leaves within me
The joy that I feel as you're mine,
You are part of me and I of you
As our souls forever entwine.
-----------------------------------------
So there you have it, poems from me
That which you manifest is before you.
*Strretches lazily and opens his bleary eyes. It's been a while since he got up before 9 AM*
Heheh, anyways, I really like your poems Becca, both were really quite beautiful, if I do say so.
Thanks Pat, I appreciate it
That which you manifest is before you.
I lovee that second poem, Azerane.
Now... For one to embarrass myself.
Your comforting touch,
My frozen heart awaits
Your warming presence as
The clock whispers the days.
Each night I nod off
To the last ringing word you spoke
Before your sweet breath drifted
Into the starry night.
The wonderful treachery,
The night time stars,
Forbidding your thoughts
To invade my lonely mind.
Miles separating our souls,
Caring, holding fast
Until the morning?s dawn
Shines to a warm rejoice.
Each year slowly inching,
Brings us so near,
And yet so far, isolating
Our restless love.
Moonlight dancing about us,
Mocking our escapable prison.
Prison that does not forbid,
But just as much does not allow.
The prison youth has created,
Containing our wondrously
Secluded ambitions,
Holding back our seething hearts.
Time the key, the only key
To set us free, and yet-
So heavy this key,
And so far is the prison door.
_____________________
Ta da. I'm all poem'd out for now. I'll rummage through m papers for some more hehe.
Ah, and-- Yes I know that one was bleh.
And this would be modern poetry summed up:
note
the
dramatic
line-breaks
to
pr
ov
e
m
y
p
oint
... eh eh eh. I take no credit what-so-ever. I'm just amused. Damn English Lit student, am I.
---
I remember once thinking
How I should write a poem.
A poem about old age;
A poem about how I will walk not with a cane to support my frail weight, but to hold at my side...
- proudly, that is.
I remember once swearing
How my hair would not turn grey.
Turn grey with old age;
Old age that I slowly accended into with wisdom beyond my (numerous) years, streaked white hair...
- gracefully, that is.
I remember once seeing
How they have to climb.
Climb onto the buses;
Those satin-blood cages at six am early morning with every ounce of strenght, mindless chatter...
-sorrowfully, that is.
That is not what I'll be. No, no, not me.
But now I do not remember
How to write that poem.
That poem about old age;
That poem about how I will stand tall with dignity, and pride.
- now I am just chewed barbed wire.
Of course I do not remember
That my hair was once auburn brown.
Golden with life;
Life that left my worn body years ago with the death of another, splintering bones...
- now it is just faded cobwebs in the morning dew.
And no, I do not remember seeing!
My eyes are blackened, and this I cannot see.
I am just one of them;
Clamboring in the morning cold to the last shred of interaction, the actions that commit me...
- strangers, nothing more.
I do not remember swearing any of these things, oh my words.
Maybe because of the death of my lover, those that speak of me.
Maybe because of the death of my father and mother; (Oh, and a younger brother.)
I do not remember feeling any of these these things, forgive me.
So this is what I'll be. Yes, yes, oh me.
---
Poet, I am not. Would like to work on it, though. =)
Thanks Twilight!
I very much like your poem Four Years Past.
And Neph, that second poem of yours is amazing. I really enjoyed reading it, I think you've written it really well, I like the way it flows.
That which you manifest is before you.
Woot.. time for another depressive sad poem by me. Enjoy.. well, since it's depressive, don't enjoy.. ere.. you know..:
-Sodom & Gomorrah-
Standing here as a pillar of salt,
I look down upon myself,
And at long last,
The object of my torture,
Of my persecution,
The knife jabbed,
Straight into my heart.
It?s a double bladed sword,
Words inscribed on each side,
Friendship and Memories.
The desire to pull it out,
Is not as unbearable as it may seem.
For though the pain would go,
And a worse one would soon follow.
So I shall stand here,
Looking back at that forbidden city,
Of long ago.
Wow Nuka, I have to say that that is a very powerful poem, so beautifully written. I simply love it.
That which you manifest is before you.
Thanks Azerane, much appreciated ^^
I'm liking whtat I'm reading.....The last two were interesting..
"Family"
He was laid to rest
the minute the lead went through his head
Another one dead
Another one who's life had to end
Where do I begin?
Pain is just another part of the game
It's two parts the same
Two parts insane, insanity
Just to keep reminding me
What I have inside of me, the name
It means so much to me
When I have someone looking up to me
It reminds me what I can be
When I have my own family
And I promise them
That I can give them better
Give them something that matters
A father who's always there
Someone who cares
No pain can out do the joy they'd give
Nothing would be worth more than my kids
I don't want them to see what I did, when I was the same age
Keep them from the same fate
Give me a reason to live
My family, they mean everything to me
And the pain that I learned from living soon vanishes within me
"The Things I Miss"
Let's play
The same way we did when we were children back in the day
Before the rain started raining down on our parade the day we grew to be our age
Let's love
Like when some was always enough when things got rough
Now everything is always the same and I miss your touch
Let's sing
The song that's been sitting in my heart waiting for my baby's loving
Like the day when we first met I miss being with my lady above all things
Just Say
You remember the days of before, before things got complicated
The way you looked at me before, before when you wanted me
Baby, can you look at me the same way
And say the same things you used to say yesterday
My Baby, Those are things I miss everyday
http://rugar.deviantart.com/ <<<Shameless self promotion...
"My Insanity"
Are you saying what I'm thinking
Thinking that leads thought to meaning
Meaning that leads us to beating
Annoying habits to keep us dreaming
As if I lost all I had the first night screaming
Beaming lights out my eyes the first sight I'm seeing
Believing is half the battle, the other half is leaving
partial thoughts on the table so seemingly innocent
As if I lost all thought of being none convincing
to myself as I pass out hoping to leaving memories I have inside me
And the past behind me as I commit something so atrociously blindingly
stupid, in mind like all I left inside was outside the realm of my reality
Baby, maybe, save me, and give me everything you have for me
Look in my eyes, sweety
Realize that I lost my mind half past ten and what I have left I write with my pen
Inside a pin where caged animals are kept in, out of touch with everything
Is this just a dream, or is reality what I woke never believing, never seeing
Since seeing is believing, I guess being is just dreaming if I'm caught living life blindly
But they all say it's my insanity...
Hmm...it seems I forgot to read page six...or most of it. I like both of your poems, Azerane...especially the second one...Passion for all!...