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First draft of our second poetry assignment for Creative Writing, required to be in some way inspired by John Berryman's Dream Song 14.
Dated: 09/22/2021
The first draft of our first poetry assignment for Creative Writing this semester.
Mostly uploading for comparison purposes once I finish the retooled workshop-ready version.
Dated: 09/08/2021
Death, they say
Waits for no man
It preys on the weak
And motivates the darkness inside
The darkness that threatens our life.
I say,
Where am I going?
A cold wall
The floor is moist
Water was drained
Pure water, tainted
Sewage in the mixture
I sit idly inside my mind
before the Train arrives.
I wander between my ears, behind my eyes -
wondering where I'm going.
I am lost in outer space.
Yet I maintain these chains;
tip-tap,
in this silly rain
for the lonely me
inside this tomb
who cries out
without words
for the blazing flame
What is freedom?
Is it the brainchild of purpose?
The essence of existence
A false reality made by unfathomable content
Freedom squirms in the antagonized grasp,
Hunger built inside me, dwelled in my very being.
My hungry eyes searched scornfully
I could see it
Far away, yet so near
The palpable scene of scrumptious desserts
Hunger built inside me, dwelled in my very being.
My hungry eyes searched scornfully
I could see it
Far away, yet so near
The palpable scene of scrumptious desserts
A young man sits, questioning his computer screen
What shall he write?
A tale of malice, malevolence and wallow?
Or a jovial story, a tad off-putting?
“Make me Suffer with Things I'd Rather”
Oh, chop me in thirds, rather than rid me of my triumphs,
With the sharpest and evilist weapon you own;
I'm mourning you,
except you're not dead
I am
I must be
How else would I have lost a family?
Whole families don't die together,
and yet, I lost you and yours
So, I must be dead.
If rainbows are nothing more than
Assortments of water and light,
Then why do we attribute
So much worth and elegance to them?
I watched countless amounts of comedians,While working on my political essays.At one point, I thought of two funnyAnd gross personalities: Pee-Wee the Child and Gilbert the Parrot.
Like blood matting fur, the hunger
stems down the spine, sweetest torment.
And echoes in fear, a flash, blind
Contrast – the forest awash with red,
swirling, the scent in the breeze, buzz
Throwback to the past
I stare straight down
"How could she do that"
the whispers
they creep under the skin
I held a grudge
with every death comes honor
but this one was the exception
She gets up."The world is brigher at night,"she would remark with a laugh,but it meant more than whather smile hid.
When you ask me,
"Are you okay?"
I want to say no,
I want to say that I'm breaking inside,
That I'm a shattered piece of this human being I used to be,
The summers are hot, but you are hotter.
Your wings are made of wax melting
nothing left but a paint by numbers.
You tell me it’s okay,
Harmonic high-rises
rise along
heartbeat highways
across
rose thorn roads
Luminescent light
stretches down
gossamer wings
of humanity.
I dream
a small dream.
Silver overcast shadows
reflect across
dancing grey ocean waves
a lone bird's solemn cry,
the only sound against a symphony of silence
Storm clouds gather within the recesses of the mind.
Who are we
Who can we be?
We go our whole lives being told we can be anything
but can we?
I think not
If we could all be what we wanted there would be no difference
would that be good
would it?
The Old Masters paint ladies with rough horsehair brushes
and treat them with noxious turpentine.
There's this girl I know, she made my life change.
My friend introduced us one day.
Despite looking bad,
She must've thought I was rad.
We started slow, as friends, not moving fast.
Tick
Tock
Two hands
On a clock
Six to twelve
At two o’clock
Five chimes ring,
Schoolhouse rock
Ticking red hand,
Metered like Bach;
Cursive Roman numbers
I fill my lungs
With the nebulas and stars.
Breathe in the frost of the moons,
Exhale the rays of the suns.
I let my eyes dance like stars
In the cosmic heavens above.
Mom said you were a fool for going to art school
And maybe she was right
It’s 6:22 and your teeth taste like smoke
Looking into the eyes of a savage beastI see blood that boils beyond the breaking pointand beneath his feet are the brittle bonesof the ones he's put an painful slumber.
you stalk about slowly upon the middling carpeting
legs prowling, jaw protruding
back hunching, gut oozing
a bitter antagonistic energy seeps through the walls and floors
traps awaiting, lessons daunting
Starlight,
starbright,
please don't let me stay tonight.
I wish I may,
I wish I might,
make everything alright.
Of all the stars,
in all the skies,
you're the one that caught my eye.
Do drugs make faces lie?
Does liquor deepen the hole?
Cut once to fill it.
When mirrors break,
glue can only dull shards.
