Story
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The waves crash
The sullen air makes it suffocating to breath
The heavy clouds carry the dense depression of the town
A woman sobbing in the corner
Every morning birds sing sweetly on inverted beds
Within mortal frames mornings are for coffee and contemplation
Today I realized the word Shepherd, is one "e" away from Sheep herd
Which isn’t enough to write a poem about
But it was enough to make me not kill myself today.
Érase un ser vagando sin rumbo
Con una mochila a sus espaldas
Para recorrer el mundo.
Érase una mochila cargada
De chuchillas, piedras y recuerdos
Pesados, pesadas y oxidadas.
Dear North
You are more at heart than all of myself can want from my entire life,
Your heart needs to be held by delicate hands,
You don’t need to be fixed,
Straight outta the gate, a tale based off self-hate
Peep how certain pieces of the jigsaw develop and correlate:
More undefined than cardinal directions in space,
Nationality, ethnicity, or descriptions of race
Thoughts in my head feel heavy
Why do the thoughts in my head make me weary?
The past few days have been tragic
And while I was in it, I wasn't in the present moment.
Distracted by currency
Turned into a Make-A-Wish kid
Cut on the right eye was vicious
Narrowly missed the right temple, accident forgivness
Left cowering in the corner like he heard three 6's
Once upon a time,
there was a little girl
known for her smile,
that lit up the world.
little did they know
how she felt in bed
every night, all alone,
all those tears she shed.
2 years
It's been two years now.
Two years of hiding scars and razor blades,
Two years of food deprivation and self-hate,
Turns out you never loved me
After all this time
So I guess it's back to being lonely
That's okay... I don't mind
I want to write tales of bravery.
Of powerful women who stood up against injustice and for kind-hearted men who chose right over what’s left
But these were not my stories
These Days I'm AMAZED In .... " SO MANY WAYS " ... !!!
People Seem To Think That Things Are OKAY ... ?!?
A Law Passed Today Has Left Me ... AMAZED ... !!!
Welcome to the shattered King's Palace
Where the walls and halls are filled with his bloody Malice.
He once was a King full of hope and love.
A king that anyone could have loved.
Let me tell you a story
of how my people were extracted from their villages like sap from tree trunks
and walked hundreds of miles to a new home.
Let me tell you a story
There once was a peaceful creature hidden away in a sweet cedar forest. The forest was ancient with beautiful features, but never a stranger or tourist
The effect of your affection is wearing out
You shouldn't have waited so long
Kept him wondering if to you he belongs
Only for the agony to prolong
The place has turned vacant, yet
I remember giving a bracelet to one of my babysitter's when I was young. I made it out of my mother's yarn.
I stepped through the vale of unconsciousness. The vale smelled of bubble gum candy. I dived through the clouds on the other side and descended upon a cherry blossom forest. My toes felt the cool grass in between them.
You take my breath away, my dear
No one else has managed such a feat
I am not easily impressed, yet my jaw is in your ocean
He was strange
One to be mocked
shamed
outcasted
He was someone I didn’t understand
So he was bad
Now I don’t know
For the longest time,
I let it encapsulate me.
Fear gripped me with its
frozen, harsh, ugly hands.
They were unrelenting.
I would tell you a story
of suffering
of pain
To win my heart, cross my roads To get my love, you knock my doors Let's to start, to earn cruise To build a nest within love rose Adore you much, looking forward To keep in touch, even one word Eager to fly, to reach sward Where your f
Two waves in the sea Two branches of the tree Two wings of the bee These are you and me In everywhere I go I keep your love to gr
Poem Story: 1
Black and blue, like starlightA boxer wins the fight of his life.Thru the ropes he goes homeTo hold his wife, of so long.
three years old --
mumma tells me
"dont disrespect a book
else it will not teach you all that it knows"
i listen to her
and see the book in new light
i see the inanimate object as an equal
I
can take
the heat.
The rays of sun never fail to slow me down
and lighten my head
I lie in wait
for the heat to form a pillow under my head
and a blanket over my body
Poetry,
So simple a word that creates sentence,
These sentences turn into verses,
Those verses form a story,
And within the story you learn about the writer.
You read their emotions,
Hidden
Hidden feelings
Hidden situations
Under the smile you wear everyday
You can see a story
The ships have all sailed.
the tide has gone out.
left here alone;
"come back safe!" you shout.
but dark shores are decieving.
and ships tend to sink.
the money wasn't worth it.
Tell me all your stories
of all the things you've seen
Tell me about your struggles
Tell me what they mean
Tell me about your past
And where you got your scars
Tell me about your walls
I.
Lines that break
on the epitome of sound
ring forth
like the swells ~~~~
of a whale
dipping into
the sea ~~~~~~~~~
Two twins named Chantelle
with buckets and bells
took to the road
to scoop from the well
bending right over,
Chantelle, who, quite sober,
slipped off the end
and tumbled and fell
Come, my love, to arms, my knight,
Come join me in our glorious fight.
The enemy's crawling up my skin,
Once upon a time, in a land far away,
there was a lesson waiting for a sailor in Mudd Bay.
Well, he wasn’t quite a sailor yet, but for that he had a plan-
Faythe was killed by my hand
What have I done?
I was expecting the death of Gabriel
The damned Chosen One
The dark tree’s branches swoop over your head,And fill up your soul with a feeling of dread,This place is forsaken; you think to yourself.The trees are all dying, lacking all health
I was 3 when my life was flipped upside downI never got to sleepover at a friends house or Ride a bike or been ask to danceNever got to chase my brother or play like a normal kid
Once
There was a castle.
In that castle was a princess.
Cursed,
By danger and imperfection.
This journey begins in the golden state,
Where waves well and traffic too turns time late,
And travels to the prideful lone star realm.
Trust me -- I am not the man at the helm.
"If you don't write your story,
Someone will write it for you."
I would agree with that.
Yes, I'd say it's true.
But someone will write it anyway,
When you're buried deep in the ground,
"If you don't write your story,
Someone will write it for you."
I would agree with that.
Yes, I'd say it's true.
But someone will write it anyway,
When you're buried deep in the ground,
At five,
when I fell off my bicycle for the first time and bled,
my mum leapt in to pick me up and ,"Honey!”, she said, “You know why Superman has a cape that is red?"
A piece of literature of predetermined length meant for different purposes
Those are: To inform, to entertain, to lie, and
even to comment on society's various ills
However, there's a new, insidious reason:
RICH MEANS MONEY... WELL IM RICH WITHIN.. AND SOME PEOPLE REFUSE TO SEE THE REAL ME... FUNNY, PEOPLE NEVER LIKED ME BECAUSE I WAS NICE.. SO IN RETURN THEY WOULD BE MEAN TO ME, RIGHT! BUT THE TRICK WAS , I LEARNED TO STAY CALM..
Dear friends,
I believe in love, I believe in might
but I'm beginning to lose my sight
of everyone around me, everyone near,
everyone who might be close to hear
that I'm losing myself, losing me
You were a library book with the pages glued shut
Sixteen years of abandoned backstory.
With what pivots and plot twists do to anti-climax.
You were a language I’d forgotten
A play without the final act
37.1 trillion cells
23 pairs of chromosomes
46 chromosomes total
4 stories
The pigment of my skin, a reminder of the humid city my family came from.
I woke up early
Made you breakfast in bed
Because I love you
Took out the trash
Despite what you said
Because I love you
A blank sky screams
A boy runs to it
His feet plod off against ice-ground
It is screaming too
Now the screaming has dimmed
I entered into an unfamiliar room
Didn’t know what to come of it.
Leaving old friends behind
Will always leave a wound
Looking for the light
On a quite curious day, certain events were set into motion.
Seven young men sailed out on the ocean.
And to their dismay
A beautiful, cursed maiden joined on the way.
Every man entranced by her beauty
If I were a poet,
you would surely know it,
Even though this poet, will not show it,
He loves to go for it,
so here we go.
Once upon a time,
In a world so clean,
with the sky so blue,
Once upon a time
There was no prince.
Once upon a time
There was no castle.
Once upon a time
There was no happily ever after.
someone once a story toldof a reign, far I may addthere lived, lonely growing olda monarch who very sadwas rapidly going mad.
We met by the sea
In the billowing greens
By the hanging tree
Where a body was seen
Swaying in summer breezes;
In the tree by the sea
Spot her across the room
Smile, look away
Allow a minute or two to pass
Make sure she’s still there
Once upon a time there was a girl.
She inspected herself with a small, dainty twirl.
Leaving her home with a basket in hand,
She was off on her way to travel the land.
Once Upon a Time…
The only son of a King and his Queen was cursed,
His fate sealed by the cruel hand of a dark fairy.
Once upon a time there was a girl named Rapunzel. Her hair was her first love. She got everyone's attention with the dramatic length of her hair. Everyone stared at her, even the bush dove.
Once upon a time there was a king,
but not just a king,
A queen, but oh no,
Not just a queen,
A quite young maiden,
But not just a young madien,
All were unaware that the perfectly imperfect,
Okay Crew!
This is take-two.
Snow white, please, rehearse your lines
and wait until the sign this time.
Unfortunately, there is no lunch break.
Sorry princess, you will have to wait.
There once was a Baker
with piercing blue eyes,
a cranky old Baker
whom all despised.
There once was a Baker
with hair flaming red,
a crusty old Baker
a man many dread.
than once there was a father
and so he had a son
but only ever after
when he settled down
so once there was a father
he went on many journeys
and only when this man came home
One sided...
Could it mean the spark?
To be busy to a point
That couldn’t be announced
Plucking petals from a darken crispy rose
Once upon a time...there were three bears. Yeah, I bet you think you know where I'm headed with this story.
I can assure you, it's not what you think.
You caught your breath. Your eyes shifted downwards and upwards and all around the room, as if you were looking for the truth. You pushed your back against the cold wall. You hesitated.
You used to mean a lot to me, and now you are just a stranger
And the sad thing is that it was my fault we ended this way
Pen in hand.
Blank paper before me.
As my pen hits the paper, words begin to flow.
As if it were a river of language flowing from my mind to my hand;
And onto the paper before me.
Words become sentences.
The old farm stood alone and still.
A car made gravel fly.
Elise braked and shut the door.
“I’m wrecked, why even try?”
The only legend I have ever loved is
The story of greed and a grateful sparrow.
A man was honest
His wife was full of greed
He found a sparrow hurt and scared,
Now you're waking from the night
Blinded by aetherial light
All the tears have dried
You've no more left to cry
Wounded by the blade
The boy
Ordinary
Not popular
Not stupid
Had anything for him
The girl
Outcast
Not noticed
Gifted
Not happy
The boy
The girl
One conversation
The flowers grow
But I could care less.
The birds are chirping again.
But their sound is not music to my ears.
Rain falls on a February morning
Freezing into spears before it hits the ground.
He dodges the drops among the trees
I am not lonely.
I am not lonely.
I am not lonely.
I am not lonely!
I am not lonely.
I AM NOT LONELY.
Autumn gold
Covered the trees in late season,
Light glistening on the leaves
As hot cider is poured
Into mugs on the front porch.
When I ask grandfather,
“Why is your face so wrinkled?”
Mother hushes me,
Grandpa smiles,
I keep quiet.
But as the years go by,
My childhood question unanswered,
Come all who wish to hear
The story of a girl who once lived in fear
A girl who was once afraid to grow up
So, come around and get cozy, you must
For this is a story of a young girl
As the sun slowly rises
And gently wakes me with the touch of its ray,
My mother was an English teacher.
My mother is an english teacher.
She was an english teacher because her overeducation
roachaphobia: simple, rhyming, frivolous: hatred wrapped in fear.
my very first poem was written at eight
or at least the first poem i clearly recall
i remember because my glory was fate
This is what I have left,
The last connection to who I used to be.
I write to remember,
I write to forget,
I write to find where eternity meets the end.
I write about hope,
Long since lost
Everyone and everything here is old; archaic.The new things and people are but copies of generations before.Arranged a little differently, perhaps.They are restored classics; cliché- yet contemporary; chic.
This poem is the story of my life
It is a messy one.
And I've shed tears of hope and strife.
Oh look, there goes another one.
When a person really cares
they'll do what'ere it takes
This is more of a trial than you might think (The mother in law comes to the salon first) The area closest to the church can be dangerous for anyone. It happened year after year Sort of like on purpose The two dead dogs In the street outside my w
My body is my bookMy creases the linesMy scars are the action scenesMy tears are the tearjerkersMy ears ears collect the sounds of lifethat run through the wires to my computer, my brain
Little girl staring down at where her pen meets.
So many thoughts in her head, but nothing on the sheets.
In her mind, she creates a world no one else can find,
But when she goes to write... nothing seems to rhyme.
Painfully shy, an introvert, without many friends
A child of divorce, found salvation with a pen
Black and blue world, smudged ink on her hands
Wrote herself a ticket to faraway dreamlands
The lines on her face
They be storytellers
Each with their own voice
A wrinkle, a page
Providing a resting place for the dust of the day
Hidden among the sun-taxed maculas
And if you ask her
A small, meek girl with brown eyes and braids
Expressing her creativity through words on a page
Teachers commented, "quite ambitious for the second grade"
She simply released frustations with writing rather than rage
I found words too simple and elegant
To stay as dialogues or simple remarks,
But I found something important
An idea that hit the marks.
Frustration, longing, heartbreak,
Soon blended into stanzas,
There is a girl,
And she is young pretty and bright.
But, she lived with words inside of her, like a parasite.
They could be nice, gentle and loving,
like a mother is to a child.
Upon death the Spirit was born
Not heralding a crown or extravagantly adorned
The Spirit was free, and had a right to be
It started with me falling in love
No not like that
I didn’t fall in love with a boy, or girl, a moment in time
But I fell in love with words
At the tender age of three
Witches push Macbeth
Leading to king duncan's death
Ambition guided his hand
He became the king of the land
Evil grasped the king
Can this just be the present
That everyday is
Even with a nemesis
Or without even saying
Wanting the same Even if it's in different shades
Or different context
There's a warm group of pink pigs
roaming the unattended class rooms.
One little pink pig drifted off
due to the sweet aroma
of an unknown substance.
He then goes onto the kitchen
I write to ease the pain of the day,
untold with many stories to say.
My pen moves swiftly along each line,
while I sit here and wait for the words to align.
Hours upon hours,
while each word empowers.
You could say that he was a Carpenterof sorts ---he built heartsfrom the outside in fixing rebuilding with his own parts, making a sacrifice just to hear their laughs just to see their smiles so that his own mind, his own soul could just possibly
the girl sits in her fluffy bedroom chair
curled up
blanket-covered
a book in front of her
and she is crying, because
her favorite character died
or someone told the truth and it hurt
Empires rise and fall
Yet I Dream
Inventions are built from the dreams I send
I still wander in my world I painted
What do I dream I do not know
Get close and get comfortable
we are about to depart.
-
Anywhere is just fine,
name a time and place.
There are no boundaries.
-
Everywhere and at any given moment...
-
Broken bottles and tired eyes
Filled with tears you never meant to cry
The corroding building where you go to play
What would you know,
About me and my plight?
Have you heard me scream for dear life?
Have you seen my inability to talk,
Incapable of expressing myself,
Unless it is by paper, by words.
It's like I'm lost in an ocean
blue as can be
without a map in my hand
or a single home to call mine
I've been looking for answers
looking for what's true
but when I look for love
Grandmother tell me a story
not that repetitive one but the other one
the one about you and me
how you first looked at me
how you first held me
There’s something about bold font
That stands out from the normal lettering
subconsciously hollering within one’s head
Because it all started with a young boy entering junior high,
My folks and I are quite weird;Crazy for the wild.We're always after danger,Never anything mild.
Now I've had a thought,
that every person has a story to tell.
So humor me for a moment,
and write yours down as well.
I'll pay it back full price you see,
and tell you mine in return,
And the World Ended
the cycle is over
and will begin anew
with differnt players
on a differnt stage
telling the same story
of sorow and of joy
endings and begenings
but its alright
Poetry Oh Poetry
What should I write
I'm not good at this,
but I guess I will try
Here is a story
That I just made up
It is wriiten in a poem
To show the other people up
A Business Calamity
By: Jake P
Attractive to All
Apparently Altering Animals Artificially
At this Aside
Best of the “Bad”
Bettering Beasts By Battery
Believing it Brave
Looking past the landscapes
there stands one dream.
One final goal that you know
deeper than the cliff you're standing on
you want one dream you know.
The trees are greener
the grass is taller
Part I. They Fell In
Simply put
I cannot understand you
The way you make my chest shorten
And the way all this furniture of our lives came about
She's not sure which matters
So as voices of conciousness and wisdom enter
They only glide across her ears
inquire at the door of logic's acceptance
and are silently lead through the corridor
We see our skin everyday.
the flesh gripping tightly on our bones and protecting us from the world outside
as we shake a hand,
dry our eyes,
or contemplate in the mirror upon if I can fit in and erase my thighs,
So tell me about the things
that keep you up at night.
Tell me about the things you love
so much that you would fight
for them.
Tell me about where you grew up.
Tell me about why you grew up.
Cancer,
I want answers
Oh,
Why did you hurt me so?
Cancer,
Like a tiny dancer,
I have been weakened,
Why do I feel mistreated?
Cancer,
I hear the banter,
I could tell you a story.
I could tell you a tale.
I could spin my life,
And make it sound so well.
But then you wouldn’t understand my being.
You wouldn’t catch my meaning.
Aught afore the mountains
And afore ye seven seas
T’were created something else
As a few now still believe
And a beauty that they were
And so shall e’er be
The fish-folk of the depths
Whence the rider came about
Looking for a different route
He stopped by a water spout
And rested there to quench his drought
i never can understand
how a father can leave his daughters to fend for themselves
he blames them for his pain
but they're caught in the game
the same one he claims he lost to their mom to
There once was a group of friends,
The rules… yeah, they would bends;
Awkward and silly,
They’d laugh wily nilly,
But that is not where this poem ends…
The first is a girl named Hannah;
Haiku Stories, Volume 1: Undervalued
I can hear their words
They fight loudly, then play nice
This is my family
I can see his face
You’re so alone.
It doesn’t matter that you are surrounded by people.
That many care about you.
Holding my wooden basket,
Fingers splintering,
Walking through the apple orchard,
Feet blistering.
Birds echo their symphony overhead,
Then my ears catch a muffled noise;
A strange affinity to male teachers
One would suppose her sick
No, not sick..
Maybe she liked the attention
Of course such a surface observation was not correct
She was a recovering addict
I used to live on Kauai, my life was paradise
I was beginning to think I was beginning to arise
When I moved to Maui, and everything crashed
My life there, which was short, was absolute terror
they looking at me like he never gonna make it
gave me a barrier
I'm destined to break
it I'll take it
give me the good with the bad i had worse
they say he not all the way there
well at first
When my stitches dissolved, I resolved a plan
A list, if you will
Of qualifications for the perfect man
Or, if you will
The perfect woman.
When I fall in love I want to be EMO
Another world inside of me
That no one else will ever see
Mostly it is comforting
But in the dark
where no one sees
It's actually quite lonely..
People walking the streets with their gold, as if life to them will never feel cold
That's what we want to see, is the life that was meant to be, for me.
Everytime you start a story with once upon a time
It has to end with "and they all lived happily ever after"
Sounding in a rhyme
Ending with laughter
My story doesn't
My heart drops every time I think about the boy’s body sinking to the bottom of the pool on that one, beautiful day in May.
If you take a look at me, with my piercings, my unnatural hair that feels more natural than the mousey brown I was born with, you can guess
I will take hundreds before I find the perfect one.
It is imperative to pick the correct filter.
It needs to make me look tanner
while also concealing the bags under my eyes.
“Hey there” you nice old man,
Getting out of your cute minivan.
It makes me sad to see you all alone
Walking towards the great unknown.
“I want to talk to you about your life
Let's take a guy - hey, let's call him Joel.
Joel's a jock. You know Joel; big guy, beefcake, brawny. Brainless? Maybe. More like motionless.
Can I Get A Story
I am Black and American
Yet I am labeled as white
And not because I bite
Hurt is not an emotion. It is a growth that multiplies with you as you age, spreading like cancer to your heart, and hardening it to the point of never wanting to feel again.
Every book I open is a door
a door to a new world.
A pathway to a new destiny.
A road to new friends.
A journey.
A voyage.
An experience.
I live and breathe with the characters
Time is ticking by,
Tripping high is Time,
I can't understand,
why we let age pass us by,
we lie, we lie, till we run out of time,
we're 4 young men just trying to get by.
Every house holds a story
like the binding of a book
Every house holds a story
You use to be my Luke Sky-Walker, and now you are my Hans Solo. (Star Wars)
You were tired of monkeying around. (Jungle Book)
Tick tock,
The clock strikes one o'clock.
The sky is dark, the stars shine bright,
Everybody, but one, is asleep tonight.
One night, as I slept,
I dreamt a dream of voices.
In my dream,
I saw young choirs,
In the choirs,
I saw young children.
But no matter what,
I heard wonderful singers-
The thing that gets me confused is when i see us being used
Not from our counterparts but from the things we do
Never good but bad it seems we strive for nothing far
But rather just for the most veiws on WorldStar
There is a painter
Was born in the first day of the last month in 96.
She left a home to make many homes.
Her job is to draw
Draw an autobiography picture.
She is poor .
I was 8 years old.
My light up sketchers with my pink book bag outshined the sun and my smile.
Entering the school with excitement I hear one kid say "Woah shes fat"
That day sticks with me/
I've tried to write long poems that will show up in SATs and other standardized tests but I can't
Then I realized something
I'm not meant to be complex
I'm not a poet of code language
Silence flows through the air oh so coldsitting there waiting a young man so old, asking for love
One beautiful morn, so fresh and oddOn a distant crag, a man did trodHe raised his blade to hew a perchAnd from the gouge three stones did lurchThe first was quite pale and buffed to soft green
Arise, arise Caesar said,
as he addressed his troubled nation.
You all agree that mighty Rome,
is in need of a new foundation.
For nor you or I can dignify,
the recent struggling peace,
My opinions are right
Anyone else's is stupid and aren't worth a second thought
You’re stupid, I am smart
You're wrong, oh so wrong
I hesitated but I did it,
Kidnapping some jerk to help a different one
And in less than a minute,
He’s on his feet having a ton of fun
He acted just like I had
Like it’s all a flimsy game
Darkness is a fellow who doesn't believe in light
They've never met, he claims
He stares at me with eyes I can't see
As if he is deranged
After a time, he is so tired and dismayed
Who am I?
Who am I? I know that I am not you but more than this is true
Here is a riddle just for you, so here is what you do—
Read this passage and guess to see who this person just might be.
A little blonde girlshe stepped onto a plaine and away with her family she went
Away from her friendsand her comforts and carefreeswith her ponitailed hair all unkempt
She said,
What this means to me,
One hundred sleepless nights,
Wonderland,
Mad world,
My obsession,
A thousand years,
Paradise,
Kids,
Forever,
King for a day,
I wouldn't be here if it wasn't for my love of Shakespeare.
He led me to the world of Macbeth and King Lear.
He taught me to die for love in Romeo and Juliet.
And live with no regret.
Read me a story
Make one up;
something with love.
I look above
at the sky
that is miles high.
Take me to the sky,
my love.
Bring me to safety.
How many frogs do I have to kiss
to get a prince who will give me bliss.
How many lamps do I have to rub
to give me someone I can truly love.
Keep your head up kid
Wipe those tears from your chin
Let me tell you something,
He read me like a book
Paying attention to every detail
Remembering every word
Taking notice to every detail
He read every crevice of my life
Being an aspie can be a source of misery or a source of pride, it’s all in the bearer’s perception. “What’s an aspie?” you might ask. It’s a term for someone who bears the rigorous condition of aspergers.
In its essence we are teased
Failing to see that which our ears detect
But even so, we are pleased
The human mind holds no defect
That with such synchrony
And all harmony
We can dimly see that
Playing Paul VI. Camden Catholic's biggest rival. Down 52-50 with 20 seconds remaining. Cole steps onto the court playing in his first playoff game. He rubs his hands along the back of his shoes to remove the dust and quickly squeaks his shoes.
Chains
Chains
clinking metal frozen
wrists bound
reaching for freedom
no key to set me free
or strength to uncuff
Stars, starsCome aliveI need your guidence in the sky.Stars, starsCome aliveI need your help through this thick unknown.Stars, starsCome aliveAnd guide me with your light
During the dayYou're so bright,Through the shining sun.During the night, you're so dark,With the moon shining on your back.Weather expresses your emotions,Rain, sadness, snowy; madness,
I am a running man of ginger
And I run faster than them all.
I was rolled and pounded and cut out of dough
Made in an oven as hot as the steam of dragons.
“WHY MOMMY WHY?”
I screamed through my tears
I was little then
About three years
…………………………………….
Mommy didn’t care
Smear my lipstick
In words that you love me
Touch me
In poems and phrases you’ve remembered
Remember me
I can feel you grow weaker
As you step inside the class
You use to torment me endlessly
But those days have passed
……………………………………………….
Her hands were balled tight.
I saw the tendons stretch around her white knuckles.
She saw me looking, which exaggerated her anger.
How could I be observing
At a time like this?
Two days passed
She stood, hair lapping in the frigid night air, at the coast. The rocky barrier separated the gravel road from a smooth, black and lapping bay. It was pitch black, like thick coffee with grinds that managed to escape into the brew. Lapping.
Hunched over a bright computer,
Warm coffee accompanies her.
Searching for words to express herself,
Searching for words too difficult to tell.
A closet full of skeletons, a pretty blonde head full of secrets.
You had me really scared and disappointed
But we're passed that
Our relationships got ups and downs
Like the NASDAQ
Late nights when no one else would
You'd let me crash at
The crib throwing fibs to those
My friend and I were talking one day and he asked me,
"What do you think about the state of downtown?"
I thought about this question for a second and said...
Love,
Deep love,
Why?
I am Vile!
Villainous, Mischievous
Destructive, Productive
Seclusive, Inclusive
Hate,
Deep hate,
Why?
I am, I!
Represent, Comprehend
There is beauty in the night,Though it's not often seen.Such a peaceful sight,But stars seen through a screen.
Am I the only one to look up at the sky and wonder
What is beyond the stars yonder
Like a sponge I soak up information
About anything that I can find
Have you ever seen eyes that speak sermons.Respirations that birth holy spirits.With those kind of eyelids that are like curtains,Blocking out sunlight that flowers cherish.
I wish I had the metaphors tolend description to the love of God.“A father throws his own son in front of a train…”What an inadequate thought. You threwhim from heaven to earth – no.More, he jumped.
Sometimes I am outgoing.
I have my friends on my side.
And nothing can beat my sense of pride.
Sometimes I am shy.
I watch everything from over there.
I can't do much except sit there and stare.
From the depths
of dark nothingness
came a person:
the Writer-
walking.
She carried a light
a pointed, glinting weapon
sharply yellow-
illuminating.
It was 11 o'clock on Christmas eve
Everyone was heading to bed
When all of the sudden someone said
"do you hear that"
Here what we said
"the noise it's sounds like bells overhead"
My Love,
You are my heart, my joy, and my bride.
For you, I took the nails and the wound in my side.
For you, I was beaten beyond recognition.
For you, I lived knowing I’d endure crucifixion.
I went out in search of an adventure.
I travelled far and wide, alone,
when I finally found what I’d been looking for.
I came across a waterfall
cascading down rocks of different hues that
It hurts, doesn't it?
The world takes it's tole on you.
Doesn't judge, doesn't care
hurts everyone just as equally
Light and Dark walked together one cold winter's night
under the shining face of the moon, full and bright.
On this night they could walk arm in arm
As old comrades might, forgetting their differences.
Somewhere in the land of Gray
There was a girl, whose name was Kay
Kay was smart, Kay was beautiful
Most of all, Kay was truthful
A dreamer in the best of ways
In her head spent most her days
The story's growing more intense,
the characters confused and vexed,
you've come to know the protagonist,
the nails they drove into his wrists,
a book that jumps right off the page,
The story's growing more intense,
the characters confused and vexed,
you've come to know the protagonist,
the nails they drove into his wrists,
a book that jumps right off the page,
When I am running
running from my problems
running from the world,
I can
Stop.
And think.
And write.
And be free.
And then maybe I can
Stop.
And see.
And know
watch, as this tragic story unfolds.
my life, my hurt, my strength, and my weaknesses.
my tragedy is one to tell,
a one of pain, and one of hell.
nights of tears, days of agony.
What it means to me....
With each and every word a story is waiting to be heard.
From heartaches to heartbreaks I write what I feel.
I feel what I write, I'll never be the same again, I can only learn from my mistakes.
I breathe, inhaling and exhaling
Listening to the kids at the end of the block play
One was wearing red
One was wearing white
And one in black standing in the corner
I breathe, observing and watching
Poetry...words that merely chose me
Opened my eyes and heart in ways the world cannot see
I was lost...trapped in sadness that would last
Fought continuously with the darkness of my past
As I walk down the street I see all the faces;
The happy, the sad, the downright mad;
Some might believe they are always this way;
Soon you'll know that's just not true;
The mad man at the bus stop,
She's alone in the dark
with no one to speak to,
with no one to hold her,
no one to show her love.
Not a sound comes in or out
but this little girl's voice
crying out for help
It was almost a love triangle except it wasn’t. It was just as ridiculous though. Someone had fallen in love with her, but she had already fallen in love with someone else.
For all the things I've left unspoken
I know they would be better off left unsaid.
I'm left in a dream again.
Please allow me to show you my life.
I want to show you my pain
Gold and red-checkered lips.
Pink and purple plumage in pin-curled hair.
Corsets colliding with chosen partners.
Flickers of light from silver sequins scattering the ballroom.
The wind moves at a slow paceCreating a whispering voice Talking to shadows as they creep Through the eerie and morose night.
(poems go here)Write, sometimes is the only right thing to do
From not being understood, to being stood up from all those in your personal hood
From confused feelings, to living life confused
I write because I can.
If I don't, I can feel myself bleeding out
There is not a person on this planet, or any other
That listens as well as the pen and the paper.
Not a soul who won't judge you,
One side is where your on the inside looking out
And the other is when your on the outside looking in
There is nothing in between except that clear glass that allows you to see through that wall in front of you
Fairytales
I never used to believe in fairytales
I’m not like Cinderella when the clock strikes 12.
Won’t prick my finger and fall asleep
Or become a prisoner and love a beast.
But I met you
If I write to you how I feel inside
will you take my words and bring them to life?
Will you give them a melody
a way to be heard by the weak and the strong?
Will you help our story become a way to let go
The sun casts its blinding rays onto the snow-covered ground to create a glittering reflection that has always reminded me of broken mirror shards.
I am a humble man,
No hero, king or saint.
My purpose is my brush,
My canvas and my paint.
My Dear, I have this gift -
I paint all that I see,
And everything I paint
The poem, A Marvelous Day, is based on a prompt from my poetry writing course and the book Writing Poems by Boisseau, Michelle and Wallace, Robert.
A girl walks the perfect road
Sun shining bright like always
Day after day
Sadness does not exist
For she knows not what it is
She continues to walk this perfect road
Can we write a story
That started at birth
Can we carry a notebook
While crossing the earth
Can we tell tales that stir us
With wonder and laughter
And erase the tears
It worked it's way into our systems
Taking it's host, leaving nothing the same
It spread itself through our communities
Faster then we could respond
Deep within the myrtle grove. Stood a woman who was foretold, that her son would rule the land. And rule these people with an iron hand. But the king was still alive, so her son would be deprived.
And dancing, they were,
The two girls, and the boy
Caring not about time,
That seemed not to pass by
They noticed not, that not a stare
Show me your story
But dont use words, dont speak.
Let the novel be written
And make it expressive!
Your frustrations, tribulations.
We want to see, not just me, everybody.
I once fell in love with a dreamer
He exhumed me from the grave
I was digging myself.
Love was breathed into my hollow lungs
Oh, how I hung on so dearly to those arms,
pulling me out of my own grave.
Hair wavy ripples
teal tinted aqua
skin supple
hubble bubble nipples
cripples bystanders even when fully sheathed
Sweat drips and drops and plops beneath
the penholder quivers at sweet nostalgia
Anger.
Love.
Strength.
Weakness.
Hate.
Fear.
I write for them.
They take over.
They use my pen to escape.
Word
By
Word.
Once they start, they do not stop.
As the credits roll I’m handed a rose
Most certainly all knows,
My pain it now glows—
Yesterday clothes worn with shame and embarrassing stains,
Now lies in a tomb of defeat,
No it wasn’t retreat,
She ran.
Past the creaky rocking chair and the old tin can,
Through the mahogany door and into the wrinkled man.
She jumped the white picket fence just to see.
Depth is in the thought,
Ideas always flow,
The times have been rough,
No one wants to fall below.
When we die,
We've walked so fast,
There we'll lie,
But hope died last.
Truth everlasting as night turns to dawn,
The stars peek out to dance on the pond.
Reflecting the weary, healing the meek,
Spinning and weaving a story incomplete.
Follow the tale and the travelers that dance,
(poems go here) Life is like a story
In which you gradually gain control.
In the beginning, you are unwilling character
But you gradually realize your own power
To change future chapters
Two evil sisters
Cinderella, a poor maid
Her sisters prepare
Magnificent scene
The royal ball of the king
The Music like gold
Fair is foul and foul is fair
Lies, betrayal, hatred, and blood
Loom freely in the air.
Dearest hero turned foe
Believe the literal truth and fell to an all time low
His lady acted not as his conscience
You flourish an extent of bounded knowledge only within yourself. Ignorant, what is love you ask. Clasp this wonder, your mind not be inquisitive, but at peace. Listen, Let me guide you. A flailing heart only knows so little.
There's a song for every story
a story for every song.
It's one thing you can count on in the days that are so long.
A fact fades
from truth
to legend,
to simple fantasy.
Sustaining mortal life
without life of her own-
the Goddess drifts
Four essences lye in her wake,
She searches
endlessly.
My father had once told me
you'll never know just what you'll be
even with the end in sight
just before the end of night
dont jump too soon, because you'll fall
just hang on tight, fight through it all
Would you stay? Just a little while longer.
Must you leave me right now?
Would you let me feel your gentle touch
Before I can feel it no more.
And your beautiful lullaby voice.
It takes real eyes to realize the real life
I used to see blind until I realized the real lies
I lived in a utopia where love was our core
But that’s when I was four, now the thought is nevermore
He called her his whore,
his slut,
his own bitch to ride on,
like dogs.Prized only darkness,
like lights.
Abandoned in public,
like free-speech.
She wasn’t free,
she wasn’t light,
Numb. Standing in fear and utter hypnosis, like a deer in front of headlights; the moment I cast my eyes on her I was certain she was the one who had been stalking me in my nightmares, wanting my soul and everything else that I had to offer.
