A Piece of my Poetry

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Wow---eveningdrive--that was pretty deep. I like it alot.

And thanks to everyone who has replied to this topic. I really have enjoyed sharing and reading these poems!

Here is one I just finished today. It is untitled as of yet.


I am but a tiny speckle
in this vast world.
A shadow,
traced out only by those
who would choose to love me.

When at first I am beheld by someone’s eye,
I am but a dim shadow.
A sketch of a person if you will,
but not quite solid enough to even be placed on paper
via pencil, or any other means.

Upon next chance with which we meet,
I receive more than just a glance.
A look of remembrance,
that is slightly unsure, is bestowed upon me.
And I smile, as one stranger might to another,
and the beginning of the sketch
has begun.

At the chance we meet thrice,
a few words might be exchanged.
A “hello” and a warm smile
for this stranger whom has just
become aware of my existence.
The sketch of my person is beginning
to take on a shape and my smile grows warmer.

Then it happens one day
as we pass each other on the way
to some destination.
The stranger will turn
and this time more than just a glance is sent my way,
at last it is a look of recognition.

We laugh, but avoid all of the cliché lines
like “haven’t I seen you before.”
The stranger will stand with me for awhile,
chatting about what a coincidence it is
that we have seen each other so many times before.

As we part we exchange names
and make plans to meet in a little coffee shop.
It is just around the corner
and we both pass by it everyday
for some reason or another.
And I am pleased to say
that a pencil sketch of me
has just been made.

Of course we meet for the first time,
but then several times afterward as well.
We search to find all the little things in each other
that we might have in common.
As well as the things that we don’t,
and sigh if it is to our detriment.

Time passes by so quickly
as we work to discover each other.
It is important to know if we will be come good friends
and depending on the person….maybe even lovers.
As my newfound friend discovers who I am
and what I am about, slowly but surely
I transform from a sketch
into a drawing.

My hope is that someday,
if I am lucky, my friend will make me into a beautiful
and colorful painting that is a permanent fixture
on the wall of their mind.
One that they will want to keep forever,
be I just a friend…..or a lover.

At least in someone’s eyes,
I am no longer a dim shadow
and that makes me feel a little less
like a speckle in this vast world.




[This message has been edited by Satiana Fearbringer (edited October 26, 2001).]

 

...awww ...shucks guys, thanks.

Actually, I used to write a lot. Somehow, I just stopped. I'm actually glad I got the chance to share some of the stuff I wrote. I was kinda nervous about your reviews for "Despair". I thought people might find it too intense that it would get confusing. I wrote that one around 6 years ago, when I was 20.


I love reading the free verse poems. As a poet, I have a tendency to make my poems rhyme and follow a certain beat or rhythm. Even in my other attemts at free verse, I normally end up with one or two stanzas that rhyme.

Great post Lady Fearbringer. Expect this one to reach a couple of pages.

As for me, I'll try to find my old journal which contains most of the stuff I wrote. Maybe you folks can criticize them or at least tell me how they appeal to you.

Its just gotta be somewhere...




[This message has been edited by eveningdrive (edited October 29, 2001).]

 

Thanks eveningdrive--and I hope do hope to see more poems from you.

Just so everyone knows---NO, the poem I wrote above never happened to me, or anyone I know. It is an interpretation of how I think people meet and become important in each others eyes.

Besides---I hate coffee!

 

Excellent stuff

Gimme some mo'

[This message has been edited by Headbanger (edited February 28, 2002).]

 

Well, here's one from today, to blow the mood in Satiana and Headbanger's poems. It's about the values of society in general. Another one of disillusionment.... I'd like feedback please.

There's kind of like, a front
Of how things are supposed to be
And behind it a churning chaos
Of uncertainity.

There is a certain image,
Of how your life should progress;
And even if it's not always right
It's there to support you.

But it's not real! And nothing is
There is no "perfect sort of life"
Or even a mass-made, stereotypical
Screwed-up childhood for everyone.

There IS no order! Is no truth
And even the values given to you are
Questionable, not entirely real
Just another force-fed, mass delusion

I question! Even if it means
I have no ground on which to stand,
The values you have given to me.
I will not be produced by you.

Already, I have changed, and chosen
And discarded, some of the things given to me by you;
They were entirely falsified,
Justifications made up for your own comfort.

I scorn comfort!
I will live with the truth
Even if I have to stare, face out
At an empty world....

[This message has been edited by Tiamat (edited October 29, 2001).]

 

Lord of Magi

Many landscapes I have passed
Made friends and foes from afar
My long journeys will not last
My life's final door seems ajar

My lovely children are grown
Without heed I wear my crown
I sit lonely in my throne
Alone with future and frown

'Tis time for my childrens' test
Soon my last journey I start
Magic's grasp has spoiled my crest
Fate, let them be pure of heart

I, the last Lord of Magi
Magic ends with my demise
Children, descendants of I
Rule among you, shall the wise

[This message has been edited by Lokken (edited October 29, 2001).]

 

That was a great poem Lokken, congratulations. Can you also write a poem about your chataddiction?

 

hmm, I don't know, I think I have an old one about being addicted to the net somewhere, I'll try to find it when I get time, might revise it a bit to suit chat addiction

LOL, right Shralp, thanks for helping me out with that line

[This message has been edited by Lokken (edited October 31, 2001).]

 

I like the "alone with future and frown" line.

[Edited to add: Aww, Lokken, I think you came up with the final version.]

[This message has been edited by Shralp (edited October 31, 2001).]

 

The next one is untitled, and still needs A LOT of work...

I denied the day would come
Yet it has arrived
Not treacherously, not like a thief in the night
I just refused to see

Blinded, by pride or wishful thinking
I do not know
In a perfect world, there would be no days like this
But the world isn’t perfect

A lesson learned
A lesson forgotten
A lesson more painful the second time it is taught
Tragically, I still did not learn

It was shown yet I did not see
My vision chose the tree and blurred the forest
Now I need to see
But eyes that shed tears are blind

The wind visited my ears with warnings
I asked it the wrong questions
Now I need to listen
But emptiness has a silent, deafening roar

I felt the chill so I found a blanket
It kept the rest of the cold out, but trapped what was already in
Now I need to feel
But a numb heart has only frost, not life

I was given portents to read my salvation
Yet love songs were what my voice released
Now I need to shout
But there are no words now, only sound

I know I should count my blessings
But it seems I have unlearned that too
I try, but I can only count to one
And that one, was all it took

And take it did
Promises withered to lies
Fond memories fell like autumn leaves, dreams heaped upon dreams
Slowly, painfully piled on dirt, begging to be burned

Now a fool stares at me from the mirror
I hate his face, I pity it
He deserves my contempt
Never would his error be mine… denial…

If I were a wooden puppet my nose would reach the moon
I envy the puppet, he was young and scared
I am a stupid, light-blinded, man-stubborn fool
I envy the puppet for he does not bleed. But he is not human…

I deny that another day would come
I do not need a second chance to weep, whatever the wind now says,
No matter how warm my heart can be,
Or how dry my eyes and clear my sight becomes

In a perfect world, there would be no days like that to waste
But the world isn’t perfect

 

Don't you find it easier to write about dark feelings then about sunny days ?

Ocean

I looked to the left, and then I looked
To the right
And I saw nothing, and I saw
Sand, and….
I saw the ocean, talking to me,
Looking at me, with its sad
Lonley eyes, and I asked
If I should stay here
Forever, and
I heard nothing but
Silence
I asked again, louder this time
Still,
Silence
I raised my hands towards
The sky, but nothing happened,
Silence
It was still there, waiting, laughing
Standing next to me
As the ocean stod upp
And reached for me, with its
Hand
Calling for me to come and stay
As I touched its hand it drew back
And all I had was salt
On my
Palms
I looked at the sky and said
Its name:
Silence

 

you know what i just read all these great poems and i really think they're real great peices of art. and so i thought i should include my own short poetry thing however i warn you its a bit perverted (its teh way my mind works sorry)

sup sup sup
i like to pee
in a cup
adn drink it down
with 7up

my best friend
is lester
hes a child molester
dont talk to him
hell put your (dick)
in a blender

i know this guy
named fred
and he liked to
give head
to little dogs
that were dead


so sorry this is such a horrid poem. but id feel worse not sharing along all the rest of this great poetry

 

Thomas Covenant is this for me?

Beautiful poem. Don't you find that silence has such a deafening roar?

 

I ment more in general, as in: "don't you guys/girls find it...." - but you can take it

Silence is sometimes so much louder and stronger than any words spoken.



[This message has been edited by Thomas Covenant (edited November 01, 2001).]

 

Inappropriate Synonym, that was indeed sick art but I suppose it is not bad, when I think what your age will be.....

This is not written by me but I thought about it after the silence-poem:

It truly makes the most beautiful music.
Everything it has to give.
It's everywhere, hiding the listener.
Without it I could not live...

Silence

Btw, am I also allowed to paste poetry here that is not written by myself? Some of the music I listen contain great poetric lyrics I want to share with you. Shall I do that here or create a new topic for that?

 

Headbanger----as long as you feel it is a valid piece of poetry and you would like to share it.....it does not matter to me whether or not you wrote it.

 

Rainy Afternoon

Come closer to me
While this summer rain
Is pouring outside,
Move your body
Next to mine,
So I can feel your soft skin
Like a gentle touch of
Silky threads,
Music is not needed,
Your whisper
Is
Enough,
Cover us with dusk
And let rain write
Poetry over the roof,
With my fingertips I want to
Read my name
On your lips,
Light as a feather, as
Flickering leaf
Embrace me
And let rain
Count kisses,
This day is not for
Deep thinking,
It is not for heavy
Questions,
Forget about reality
While my hands hold you above the
Ground,
And let
Rain watch over
Us


This poem is deticated to my love, and she was pure inspiration for it.


NOTE: Poem was not written in english, and I tried to translate it word by word, without caring for proper sentence build up. Some words just sound better in original language, but this will do as well. I hated some translations due to their cliché resemblance ( ie ..move your body next to mine..Yuck). Some words are left out or changed.

 

Thomas, you translated it very well for it is a great poem.

 

Devotion

I look into your cool green eyes
Many sad tales they seem to speak
Fiery hair sets my heart ablaze
A sea of roses would turn bleak

Delicate as the elvenmaids
Enchanting songs fly from your lips
In your sensuous dance time is nought
Begone are all unfaithful scripts

Our whispered words of devotion
A wind of joy & hope they bring
Moonlight reflects our tender kiss
Love blooms as an enchanted spring


Dedicated to someone very special


[This message has been edited by Lokken (edited November 01, 2001).]

 

How can you tell I'm depressed.


MIRRORS CAN BE SUCH CRUEL THINGS....

Mirrors can be such cruel things,
They tell you all that which you wish to forget,
Mirrors can be such cruel things,
like a slap of cold water on the face.
Sometimes you don't want to see yourself,
Buried in everlasting hate,
But it's a sharp reminder of what you are,
When you stare at yourself, face to face.
I wish I could now orget myself,
Buried behind all those layers I hide with,
Or maybe reinvent myself,
As if I could rise from my ashes reborn.
But no! Be broken, and stay that way,
Hope is a futile, helpless thing
Which raises you to giddy heights,
Only to shatter you again.
Mirrors can be such cruel things,
Not because they are the death of hope,
But they are the light in perpetual dark,
Piercing illusions and foggy cloudscapes,
Mercilessly exposing the truth,
Until you have nothing to hide behind.
Come face to face with a mirror, and you will wither,
Till there's nothing left but the blackened truth,
Look deep inside what you really are,
Plunge into the cold depths of despair,
Mirrors can be such cruel things.