Poetry or Writing

Not jibberish at all, I understand completely and I wanted to say thank you to everyone for being so helpful. I have a lot of work to be done on the way I look at life and I guess I should start sooner than later. Well, I had a really long response to this post but it timed out or something so sorry, in short, THANKS;)

your quite welcome:D now for my next one.

Never

I have held you in a warm embrace
you and i have shared love unconditional
But now you are being taken from me
A sickness that is deep and within
as final moments come and go
the air in the room is quiet and still
as your last breath draws I still sit
waiting beside for the inevitable moment
when you pass from my love forever
I realise I am now one alone
my love for you keeping me lonely
but now I can never be with another
no I can never love again
Never.

WOW, that was deep!

yeah thats one of the deeper ones.

damn darkness that one almost brought a tear to my eye
if i still knew how to cry i probably would....
that one just gives me such a mental and overwhelmingly emotional picture in my head...so much with so few words.

sorry again for my tardiness this game is just so cool, they left out some integral cars but makes up for it with game pay and graphics

anyhoo sentra im glad that advice souds like a good idea to you hope you will be able to put it into action. it realy cuts a lot of stress out of your life, makes the travel a bit easier. just ask darkness, sounds like he doesn't let things worry him too much, i suppose that even on opposite sides of the earth great minds will still inevitably come to the same conclusions. (great minds ya like that one darknes, great minds)
ya i also took that one a bit to the extreme and went from "don't worry about things" to "don't let it affect you" that might not sound like a big deal but once that becomes your answer to any situation it takes a certain type of person to accept that kind of life. it essentialy kills all of your emotions, which was alright for me at the time because emotions are weak they cloud your mind and judgement. through the annals of history every mistake that has changed the course of history every bad idea was because of emotions. specificaly anger and love the two worst emotions there are. i have changed since then but still believe these to be true, i just don't adhere to them as adamantly as i did. don't let it affect you, for everything good that happens to you it is as if it were just another occurance for every bad and even tragic thing that happens to you it is just another day nothing new, it takes a special kind of person to accept that way of life.

anyway im rambling
here is one i wrote for a friend of mine named sara
it is about a friend an ex-friend of mine who mentaly and emotionaly abused her.

follow me to paradise
and i will not mislead you
you can place your trust in me
for i shall not mistreat you
gently place your hand in mine
and i will show the way
hold you tight and hold you close
and never let you stray
now i know that you have faith
i'll ask you close your eyes
so you can't see all my deceit
and never know my lies
i've taken you so far away
from where you want to be
with your eyes closed don't know the way
you can't make it without me
dear your eyes i ask you open
now that we are here
i ask you please not to scream
or shed a single tear
for this is my own little world
i built it out of hate
in the darkness and the sorrow
with you my captive mate
i need not bind your soul to mine
i know you'll never leave
it is much too scary on your own


but not half as much as me

Damn, that was awesome, first of all, but the saddest part is I completely understand it and I can relate to it so easily. I wish I could go to my own little world even if it is full of darkness, better than pain.

I don't know how I ever missed this before... :confused:

I suck at writing, and I know it, but it won't keep me from doing so every random now-and-again. I find that the only time I can write something that is remotely worthy is when I'm alone and scared. I wrote in my journal only at 2 periods in my life: When I was in Germany and when I lived in Kansas City with my aunt and uncle. The most poetry I ever wrote was from KC. I guess I'll share one of them now. I'm in the mood for reading and writing poetry today.

Speak
Needs unmet
I turn away
From myself
Another day.

Suffer silent;
Speak not a word.
Keep it in;
Remain unheard.

Hide in darkness.
Keep them at bay.
I couldn't speak;
What would I say?

Saturn, that was awesome! It was really touching and I can definitely relate.:)

grimmy and Saturn, I really liked both your poems.

all these poems we are putting here kinf of give you a hint into why I picked Darkness as a name so long ago. I can hide behind it.

anyway for the next.

Rain

Drip goes the water
I look out my window and see it pour
I love the rain
it describes me
The rain is like my mind
Rage, fear, intensity, and then the rainbow
I see it, I understand it
I love it because it is me
Symbolic yet true
Ugly yet beautiful
hard yet tender
the rain is like a person in thought
It's like the coldness of a persons heart
yet soothing and appealing
I can't look away
my imagination grow deep
rain forever i want
it's the coldness, the feeling, the intense reaction
the comfort, the beauty, the truth
Rain signifies life
rain is life
I love the rain.

Heaven and hell I worship you so well
Inspired by weakness I follow in sickness
unsuspecting confusion
I am a prisoner of dillusion and fanatical hope
Bless my expectation in this unforgiving creation.

:devil: ;)

The cars on the road are color coded according to the level of my fear.
Very strange, but true.
Been out of the circuit so long,
I'm not sure what you all are driving anymore.
Keeps me on my toes,
this unfortunate mistrust of the entire rainbow,
when all I wanna do
is stop dancing,
tear off my pink ballet slippers
and burn them;
stop this frantic sidestepping jig
of dodging bullets
ricocheting off this dusty trail,
and trade in my cowgirl boots
for combat boots.
Even a white knight on his steed brings no comfort.
In my world of opposites, white spells fear;
well meaning white cars
map out the most direct route
to my downfall.
Green cars can't be trusted, either.
with less than loving intent.
Brown El Caminos and
beaten blue minivans
somehow hold the scepter of judgment.
I feel safer with bright, blazing red,
cause I can see them coming
at a distance;
like sunrise,or apocalpyse
(depending on the driver).
If I were queen
you'd all be tooling around in go-karts;
approaching slowly,weatherbeaten
in the harsh elements of my inspection
as I am in yours.
I'd keep you in my sights, your faces magnified
and centered in my crosshairs,just in case.
My dream car?
A lovebus, painted black,
with monster truck tires.
Then you'd see me coming.
I'd be driving out loud.
Or a black sedan,
nondescript,
with tinted windows and black velvet interior.
Anything dark, like my lover's fascination.
Anything dark,
and soft as the yawning void
of my lover's compassion;
black as the darkest hour
between midnight and dawn.
I'd crawl inside and hide. :)

Wow Cellar, I liked that, it was very deep and I could relate really well when you put just "tear off my pink ballet slippers and burn them". I've definitely felt that way before. Anyways, I liked it a lot, you're very talented:)

Originally posted by SentraGirl
Wow Cellar, I liked that, it was very deep and I could relate really well when you put just "tear off my pink ballet slippers and burn them". I've definitely felt that way before. Anyways, I liked it a lot, you're very talented:)

:flash: Thank you Sentra Girl, I'm glad you liked it. I didn't write this particular one, but I agree the person who did is talented.

You guys and gals are awesome!!!:eek: I haven't written in about 9 years. I used to enjoy it a lot.:grey:

A freinds Haiku:

A man eats his car
it is quite un-sandwich-like
he feels very smart

(though personally I enjoy Waka more)

Somewhere in my head
or in my hand
they lurk—
sitting, waiting, leering!
at me.
Come out!
subject, verb, object,
any order you may wish!
I’ll take you in your ways
and arrange you as should be!
Come,
if we could but weigh this page
with iamb after rhyme,
perhaps—
if heavied down enough—
it shall not blow away
with time.

I do a lot of writing myself, most people dont read it because they never ask. heck, most people dont even know I write. Anyways, Ill prolly post a few in here. heres one I wrote a little while back.

Industrial Strength

I see peaceful yellow flowers
As back and forth they sway.
This occurs upon a meadow,
On a peaceful summers day.
They do this without worry, without reason, without care.
This lovely sway spreads on and on
With the tepid summer air.
A place of peace is this indeed,
Say I, atop a hill.
I come here as if it were a need,
Yet at the same time it is done by will.
Often times it beckons me,
This enchanting field of Dreams,
And often times it's where I'll be,
Succumbing to its means.
I look around this exquisite place,
And with sorrow I am filled.
For soon this meadow will be disgraced
By the cities that we build.

I really liked that last poem, very sweet!

Sorrowful World

A simplistic nature with a desire for recognition resides in all who inhabit this anything but simple world. What man once did by hand is now done by machines that were created by mans hand. The natural world that was once an untamed world in itself is now a land of metal and glass towers that consume humans on a daily basis. The skies which were once blue, beautiful, and clean, are now polluted by gases created by the shelled beasts which transport humans to their next point of destination, with them never thinking twice about where they have been nor the people they have come across.
The world has changed dramatically. The recognition of the simple things which made this world beautiful in the first place is disappearing under the burdened sky, without a second thought from those who are causing its destruction.

Welcome to my nightmare,I'm the prince with half a crown,
I build my castles in the air,so please don't tear them down.
Sometimes I dream of sailing ships,and others,flying planes,
But most times all I dream about is jumping under trains.

My world is plain and simple,I'm the prince with half a crown,
Roll up! Roll up! Come take a seat,the circus is in town!
Come join me in my bedspace,though there's little there to see,
A window,but no windowlatch,a lock without a key.

Welcome to my nightmare I'm the prince with half a crown!
I cower in a corner,far too scared to go to town.
And if you mock or pity,well,it's all the same to me,
You live upon the outside,there are things you'll never see.

Don't think you know the workings of a prince with half a crown!
To some I am an Ogre ,and to others I'm a clown.
Some others see a gambler who's to wise to show his hand,
The truth is in the mirror,much too hard to understand.

Welcome to my nightmare,I'm the prince with half a crown!
I'm a poet and I know it,I'm the master of the noun,
I'm a writer and a raconteur,I speak without a care,
But only to my keyboard,I'm ashamed when you are there.

Don't waste a drop of pity on the prince with half a crown,
Don't throw that blasted lifebelt,keep it there,I'd rather drown!
I'm a hermit,I'm a castaway,recluse ,a mute,a freak,
If you think you want to help me please don't come til late next week.

Welcome to the padded hell of prince with half a crown
They've tied my sleeves together,and I'm jumping up and down.
I'm screaming and I'm panting,and I'm lonely and I'm scared,
The way They treat the 'clients' some would think They never cared.

Welcome to my nightmare,I'm the prince with half a crown,
pretend you never saw me,fix your gaze upon the ground.
Pull your coat across your shoulders as you scuttle through the rain,
And pretend you didn't notice something wrong inside my brain.

Welcome to my nightmare,I'm the prince with half a crown,
I'm not quite the full shilling,so they'll have to take me down.
Yes,I'm the kind of guy you wouldn't want to live across the street,
For all your platitudes,your body language indiscreet.

You'll never be the master of the prince with half a crown,
your pity and your patience will become an angry frown.
But it's o.k.,I forgive you,I've been down that road before,
Kindly pass the bloody Seroquell,and shut the fucking door.

fallen from darkness
thru shallow made graves
raised among demons
with blood thirsty craze

scavenged from ashes
once left for dead
angels of mercy
left as i bled

i have no emotions
my motives are blurred
i now wander listlessly
death-bell deferred

I did this after I crashed the 'Bring. Oh, like most of the stuff I write here, there's a double meaning. It's always about a girl, at least some if not most. There'll be a lot more about her. She's a big part of my life now.

Weird. Another near death experience. Why do they call it that? how can you be any closer to death than just by waking up in the morning? Oh well...I wrecked her. My one true love on this planet. I loved her so much, but I lost control. I had the choice of a head on or a swerve off to other possibilities. I swerved. Either way I'm still alive. "We;re immortal before our time." That belief is what's keeping me sane now. it's why I'm not stressed or anything. I loved her so much though and I let her down. The hours we spent together. At least we had some unforgettable times together. I pushed her to the limits and she enjoyed it. the thrill, the fun, the adventure. All of it was pretty spontaneous. She was so smooth, beautiful when the sunlight reflected off her. She shined. The whitness...*grins* The brown top that fell back. She was fast. yes, very much so and I made sure of it. Now she's gone from my life. All of it just came to a sudden halt. It was fast, like her. If it was to end, that was not how I wanted it. Could have been more dramatic. Could have really pushed it, but I was risking taking someone else down and I couldn't do that. Sorry girl. We could have been great together. the furture held so many possibilities. Nothing could break us, well, except us. And that's what happened. I'm so sorry. Please forgive me. I love you...wait. No. It won't end. We can fix this. Like I said, we can get through anything. "Tis' nothing but a flesh wound." You and me, nothing will ever come between us. This of course depends upon you too. Please stay with me. Forget about the anything that's happened before except the good times and think of the future. It'd be perfect. What? Old school? Um...ok...if you say so. *flips coin* Heads we win, tails we'll try again without a jetpack though.

Yeah, the ending, you'll see it's an inside thing but it's in many of my stuff.

-Blu

For her I shall write
A style I must find
There are so many though
At least I already have mine

I'll branch out
Try somethings new
I try until i die
For I am Blu

Can't believe I can't race
Now it's a big part
Of me this I speak of
I have such a broken heart

Ah yes! My weakness this is
yeah, now I can admit
Cars and music are my cure at the time
Only if I could race a bit

It's where I can escape
Why I did 80 that night
Then it all disappeared
Boy what a flight

Oh! 110 down Indian River
You should have see the hump
When I hit the bridge at 90
Man did that car jump

What a rush it gave me
Later I realized
What possible outcomes there were
Would have led to tears in her eyes

My poems just come
Feelings in me
I write not of one topic
Sometimes two or even three

I end them like letters
Saying I must go
The thing is I could never leave you
Now don't you know

As all of them, I wrote this for my two best friends which happen to be girls. Sent it too them. Did it to calm them down after the crash, a promise I made to never again.

Silent Destruction

The sounds of the morning welcome me as I step out into the calm,cool air. I step into the grass and breathe in purity in one of its best forms. Those who inhabit the wondrous outdoors emit the sounds of their tasks, whether it be the hammering sound made from wood and its aptly named counterpart, or a simple, single soul that sings for the sole purpose of doing as much. This vast population goes undaunted by the countless distractions that the giants of the world create with their new found thrills. Throughout the time I have spent standing, merely observing that which, in essence, helped build our civilization to what it is, I see the beauty that so many do not, that so many take for granted. Why do people do this? Because they can. The environment does not matter to them now, but it will. When it is gone, it will.

Okay, my turn :smile:
I'm new to this thread but its really cool and ya'll have some really great work so I thought I'd share.
I only have two on hand (at work) and they are the only two i think I ever wrote that dont ryhme but I'll share em anyways.

In a Heartbeat

Dont tell me its okay, when its not
Dont tell me I'm okay, when I'm not
I can feel my world breaking
Crumbling and falling apart
You look at me with anger
and I look at you with pain
I know that you want me to be allright
I want that too
But not you, not even you
can take this pain away
I've been through to much
to just give up now
But I think I will
I'll close my eyes
and I'll listen to my heartbeat
With each beat it will slow
It will fade, and it will stop
And there will be no more tears
And I will smile once again my Love.

Chess Master

How do you do this to me
You, with your golden smile
You, with your child-like eyes
filled with such innocence and dumbfound curiosity
How did this happen
How did you keep me so fooled all along
being so blind
Like a child wandering in the dark
All this time I thought I had you in checkmate
yet now I realize
I am just a pawn in your game
Your game for which you are the master of
The rule maker
The rule breaker
Yet I feel you are oblivious to this power which you hold over me
Even with this astounding knowledge of our world
I know we will play this game forever
While you keep control and I plead for it
I will always be the simple pawn
and you the Chess Master

Wow, welcome to the forums, those were really good, I like the first one especially, really deep. Keep posting 'em ... y'all write really good!

I wrote this a few months back a month or so after I broke up with my girl friend of 2 years if you can't tell I was a little pissed off at how she played me. enjoy


A poem to my sweet heart.
You used me for my kindness!
You thought you could lie, and I would never get upset.
You figured that since I let one bad thing slide why not try another,
So you did, and it worked, God I should have listened to my mother
You clouded my perception with your sweet words,
And no matter what you did to me I would still love you.
You thought you could play me, but now I get the last laugh!!!

I hope when you read this it fills you with rage.
No, you won’t, you’ll think it’s not for you and just turn the page.
Well I tell you what; I’ll make it perfectly clear,
You left my family to take care of your dog, for over a year.
Oh now you see, I am speaking of you, how’s it feel?
It hurts bad, don’t it, well all I have to say is GOOD.

Imagine how I felt thinking for two long years that this was real.
That we were gonna grow old together, that was supposed to be the deal.
Then it all got out of control like a drunk behind the wheel
That’s true, I’m sorry, you’re not all to blame.
‘Cause if I saw through your lies sooner I wouldn’t have felt so ashamed.
You know what hurts the most out of anything that you did
That you couldn’t just be mature enough to just tell me about this John kid
You kept playing me off saying “he’s just a friend” he wasn’t and you know it

I can’t believe you called me your soul mate, and to this same face you lied,
I hope you burn in the deepest pits of Hell when you die.
I tried everything under the sun to save us, but it just wasn’t enough,
You made up some lie that I changed, just cause you didn’t have the guts.
All you had to do was tell me.
I loved you enough to let you go.
I guess my true love for you, you will never know.
And as for your true love for me…lets be real… it never got shown!

Damn, that was really deep firebird. I'm sorry you got hurt and this may not make much sense now but atleast you found out sooner rather than later. It will take much time to heal your pain but she wasn't worth it and in the end you will understand. I hope you feel better and one day you will find the person who truly is your soul mate. Good luck and keep writing, hopefully a happy one next time:bigthumb:

thank you, sentragirl it's one of my favs. too, I am well over her by now we broke up almost 6 months ago and I have found that I am not only happier without her but happier than I have ever been in a long time even before I met her :) he is a slightly less angry and more depressed poem about her, and to your request I will post a happy one in just a minute :D -Firebird

The Girl
I remember being with you everyday
Feeling your soft skin, kissing your full red lips
And staring deep into your loving eyes, eyes with a beautiful brown hue,
With a twinkle that appeared in the corner, whenever you spoke to me or said my name.
Now you are not mine, not mine to hold, to love, or to kiss anymore.
In the past but never again!

I gave you no less than total devotion, the deepest love humanly possible.
I guess we were never truly meant to be,
why then do the memories of you still control me?
Daily I find myself remembering how we used to talk and laugh, embrace and cry.
How I used to say that without your love I would surely die.
In the past but never again!

You were my first love,
the one I saw that summer day long ago in my past
I was drawn to you as though you held a rope that was tied to the very pit of my heart.
The love you showed me was beyond my greatest comprehension of the word
,and for that I am both eternally grateful and eternally saddened.
And now you have found someone else.
I say that I wish you and him the best.
But deep inside I can’t cope with the fact that you will never be mine again.
I only hope that I can find another girl, one that I can love the way I loved you.
One that will created those deep feelings of love in me that you did.
The feelings of love I thought only existed in the fairy tales that we hear as kids.
I gave you the greatest love that anyone can give.
In the past but never again!

ok a happy one, it may not make much sence but it is me running through a field and all that is going on that is going on (forever unnoticed and remaning unchanged) about the world as the last word of every stanza spells out, enjoy.

A Perfect Summer’s Night
A lush open prairie with kiwi green trees
A beautiful sunset of plum and marmalade clouds,
These are the moments that take your breath away.
Such a beautiful and wonderful thing nature is, to bad we can’t stay,
Forever.

The immaculate silver moon illuminates the onyx sky
Shining it’s light upon the ruby roses and the emerald grass.
It’s amazing how everyday these moments go past,
Unnoticed.

Running through this open field full of the grass, weeds, and thicket
The globe of life continues its slumber with only the song of the cricket,
Remaining.

In the morning the world reawakens, with the return of the orb of fire,
Unchanged.

Both poems get a big :bigthumb: from me. You have a real talent and I just wanted to hear a poem from a time you were happy because I am only able to tune into my creative side when I am depressed or saddened by an event. I hate it, I can never write anything happy but all the poems on this thread are awesome!!! I enjoy them.:icesangel

welcome back sentra, long time no see.:wave:
pizzle00...Wow...i am speechless, tose were amazing.

Originally posted by grimmy
welcome back sentra, long time no see.:wave:
pizzle00...Wow...i am speechless, tose were amazing.

Thanks grimmy, it's good to be back LoL. It's been a really tough year so I haven't had much time online unfortunately. I will try to scrounge up some of my poems but they don't compare to the ones here so I'm embarassed to even post em. :confused:

A view from the middle

Love. What is this word which means so much to some, and nothing to so few. To say few is to make an overstatment of those who feel this word is just that. Those "few" are not those, no; but rather "he". Construction of these thoughts was done in the mind of he who writes these very words, but why? Why would one with such an open look unto others view such a beautiful thing as nothing more than a mere word? Perhaps, this one has been jaded? Perhaps. Only two know the answer to this question. He who holds the thoughts and he who knows all, and sees all. But enough of who this person is, now of his belief. One and many at the same time ask, "what of love do you think?" To which I would reply "Nothing" I cannot form an answer to a question when that which is in question means nothing to myself. Love is a word and nothing more, it is often used to describe feelings which so many cannot know when it is felt. So many claim to have found their true love, yet so many do not know the truth of what they say. Truth is no longer a commonality, but a rarity, and unfortunately no one speaks it anymore, and without truth, this "love" that is almost soley based on just that, cannot exist.

OMG, that was absolutely amazing!!! I really got into it and it's very deep.

Undeserved?

To what do we owe our lives and possession? Surely not ourselves, since the beginning it is seen that one can be nothing without another. To another, credit is due for position reached, yet credit goes ungiven. Respect is present, but only for ones self, to which he accredits much of the work and hardships he did not endure. Society is shaped by those who take for their own benefit without considering what another may wish to have. Through the passing of this time, one no doubt believes that he possesses what he deserves. But this begs the question, does he deserve that which he possesses?

Numinous

Everyone wants something, the question is...what? You ask yourself this so often yet you never answer it because though you SAY you can, you know deep within you cannot answer this question. Why? Nothing can quench the thirst of your wish for power and property. But when that which is new is received, it becomes old instantly, for it is something you already have and you must now find yet another item to suppress your insatiable thirst. Please tell me, when does it end, and ask yourself not "what do I want" but " What do I need?" This can be simple to answer, sometimes what you need, you know of, and other times, you dont realize what you need, until it is gone, even if it was staring you in the face the entire time. This can be said of so many things in life, Love, Friendship, Work, what have you. Dont let needs slip through your fingers as though they were to be water running from a faucet, to wash your hands of the dirt that encrusts them after a hard day of working for what is the most important thing to you: Yourself. Pride is not lost on you, infact it is always found in abundance, only because you never had it when you wished it had been with you. You make up for it now with your shoddy comments of others and seemingly endless power over them, as if you alone control the very essence of their lives. However, something lurks in the shadows of those whom you "possess" that you had not anticipated. They care not of the words which show how you abhor them, nor care of the way you steal from them the respect which the rightfully deserve. They know, yes indeed, they know. They know that while their time in this place is temporary, yours is permenant, and while they shall move on to do that which God has beckoned them to do, you shall go nowhere. Is it not sickening? The way you waste your time controlling that which, in all reality, you control not at all, but really controls you. For if they do not do your bidding, it is you who suffers, and they who are not. You who takes the heat, and they who do not. But you retort to this, you have POWER, you have CONTROL, you have what you WANT. Indeed this is only what you think, as so obviously stated, however you will never have control, just as you never have, and you will never really have what you want, because what you want is that which cannot be purchased or made by the hands of a mere human-being. You are nothing more than a puppet that goes about your routine, ignorant of your mistakes and shortcomings, though you know of their existance. Yes, I can see in your eyes, that you know the existance of which I speak, and truth be told you know very well that the existance of such things will not tolerate your being, and will bring it to an end should a new course of action not be implemented by yourself. I say this to you in hope of something coming from the wake of the dreams in which I live, for you know as well as I that what I wish from you I will not receive, and what you wish from yourself, will always be far from reach, yet right in front of your face. Forget the wake of the dreams in which I live, welcome to the nightmare in which I dwell

A Still Breeze

As the wind blows, the winds that mark change blow the strongest, and those who feel their gusts know what change they bring. One person in particular notices great change being bestowed upon his once simple and seemingly boring life. These changes occupy the life of none other than he who makes these very words, and he knows that when these winds have gone their directions, his life will have changed for the better, for there will be another life he occupies; one he has been in search of for a long time...

I guess I can chime in. I used to have more but I had a spell where I thought they were all stupid and threw most of them out. Only 2 left. Sometimes I tend to ramble and change subject, jus bear with me. They don't have titles.

I am one of many, but still only one;
different than all the similar beings around me.
I walk a path partially cleared by those before me
but by no means safe from the vines and pitfalls.
No one can walk it for me,
and no one can keep me from walking it.
I may walk at a slow and controlled pace but I think and dream at a feverish rate.
Thoughts of dangers, adventures and goals bombard me from inside-out;
why then do you attempt to add further restraint?
You try to change me; to mold me,
but I am not a lump of sculptor's clay for you to shape.
I am not a mere child who is open to your conceited advances.
I am on my way and am guided by those who have nurtured and aided me from the start.
This is not to mock or reprimand you,
but rather only advice.
You must walk your own path, just as I do
and if you only walk with people just like yourself,
you will walk alone.
My heart aches for all those lost in the dark woods,
but my heart can do nothing except be what it is:
its own, uniqe force; willing to help but unwilling to be compromised.
Accept everyone as they are and you will never find yourself alone in the woods.

Haven't written in years, but I have some poetry that I wrote as songs that I play on guitar for my own healing/hobby. Much of them have to do with the breakup of my first marriage which was to my high school sweetheart.

Hearts Unstable

You're stinging
You're destroying
Failing years can take their toll
Your marching chimes the mood of the day
And all I do is sit and pray

(chorus)
Am no longer welcome in your life?
You know, I feel like I'm under the knife
I'll give you some time
If you cut me some slack
When you take the knife out of my back

You ebb but
You won't flow
The years go by my darling one
No common ground from sea to sea
And all I do is wait patiently

You know
You don't know it
Time, it blurs and wounds decay
Happiness is plagued with tears
And all I do is wish you were here

(chorus)

I write short stories. I was writing a novel, but I forgot the password to the word doc. Smart, huh?

I might put the Short Story Im writing now up when Im finished.

On The Outside Seeing Nothing
An Essay by Jonathan S.



In idealistic eyes, everything is anything but ideal. What people see is really what they think they see, and what they know is what they think they know. No one knows for sure what a person is really like on the inside. “Home is where the heart is” it is said, but for some, home is where everything in ones life is wrong, and corrupt. For one particular young man, this is especially true. This young man to many seems as though he is as strong as the stone and earth upon which he stands. Some consider him a leader, and others someone not fit to follow. He is active in his own group of friends, as well as the activities he is known to enjoy. Yes, it seems as though the life of this young man is full of glory and gratification. But as many have learned throughout history, nothing is ever as it seems.
Each day he gets up is a day that he wishes things would go away. He puts his mask on and goes to school, hiding all that he is, and all that his life is so sadly becoming. Some reading these words might ask “Why? Why is this young man on such a tumultuous road, if indeed that is the case? He seems to have the best anyone could wish for.” This is where one must no longer ponder, but learn.
When someone is asking “why”, many things must first be understood and considered, and then (and only then) one can understand the revelation that lies within ones own question. When generally speaking of this young species of something like human, one can note, just as it already has been, that he is a seemingly proud and strong creature. As noted before, he is a wonderfully happy person, however, this is not his life. His home is that of a broken one, with a family to match the disdainful meaning of the phrase. By his father he is pushed to be great; even when he succeeds, however, it is failure in the eyes of the man he strives to gain acceptance from, for nothing will ever be good enough, not even if it were of the purest form. Though one would assume that even now, things are enough to be too much, more still comes.
Love, that which should be the very bond between this young man and the woman who conceived, and birthed him. This is instead a bond of resentment, of ill will, or malice should one be so inclined as to say. This arcane feeling stems from a time long before this young man was even a thought or consideration. It is an emotion of this sad and broken woman that was scarred when she herself as a child was brought into this world by a woman who would sooner give her own life than care for her infant daughter, her own blood and kin. To make this abhorrent situation that much more so, the “father” of this small life was nothing more than a coward, a small shell of a man who saw no good in himself and by way of happenstance, took his frustrations out on the two souls who already lived in a personal hell (one way directly, the other indirectly). He would beat the girls’ mother for mindless things, petty things, and at times for no reason at all. He would cause damage to her body by way of breaking bones, making bruises, and treating her organs as though they were his own personal training-bags. All the while this occurred, the little girl sat watching, seeing her life become worse by the moment. At that time she didn’t realize, but this was creating a resentment not only for herself, but for the form of something like human that brought pain to her through unwanted contact, contact with the one who didn’t care if she was alive or dead.
Well then, now that it is known why the mother is as though she has no son, we can now move on to the topic of why this young man’s father is the way he is. Unlike his mother, the young man’s father came from quite the wealthy household. He had a mother who loved him and a father who… well… a father who was as clean cut as the title of his parental name. He fathered the young man yes, that is he bestowed upon his wife, the young man’s mother, the seed for which to bring him to life.
One must understand that in a home so lavish as this, capital must be had in order to retain this family’s life of luxury. Work; it is what everyone must, in some form or another, face in their life. If is this same thing that kept this young man from growing to know his father, from ever bonding with him as every young man should do with his father. He was an executive for a corporation who put his job before all else, treating his family as a lack-luster object that he was required to be with. The young man tried to reach his father on an emotional level, he tried over and over again, but to no results did he come. He would do things that he felt his father would notice, but they only disheartened him more when each time he realized that no notice was being taken. So, on through life the young man went, all the while being shaped into the demanding father he would become. After his experience, he came to believe that a father that does not demand the best from his son is a father not doing his job.

“Sad” some would say; “unfortunate” others would mutter, and in all honesty that can be given from the word, it is. A young man is born to two parents who expect too much and too little of their child at the same time. His father—too worried about his son’s success to even consider his happiness, or to consider the fact that maybe all he really wants is a father. He will never see that his son works so hard, because to his father it is not hard enough. His mother—never worried about her son, only herself because after all, “looking out for number one” is the most important thing, not matter what. It doesn’t matter to her that her son might be depressed, and masks it by being what he thinks society wants. It doesn’t matter that he goes to school everyday wishing that all this pain and suffering he feels could just be lifted from his shoulders, leaving him to bare this burden no more. No, his parents wish for things that will never be good enough. So day after day, the young man moves on with his life, his life that is masked behind lies and truth untold, that is… until this day…

...On this very day, the young man has made a decision, a decision to make known his feelings, to make known his pain and to make known to his unknowing parents what his torment does to him on the inside. He’s overwhelmed by his recent epiphany, so overwhelmed with feelings of a form of happiness that he writes himself a note to mark the occasion. He has decided to title it “The answer to my problems.” Anticipating the days end, the young man can think of nothing else but his new found idea. He squirms and wriggles in his desk chair until finally the bell, signifying the survival of another day, sounds. He hurries home to an empty house, which further pleases him, for it notes that this surprise will be just that and more for his parents. Climbing the stairs to his room, he can hardly contain himself.
Everything is ready and in place, his prized reminder is pinned to his corkboard. Finally, the moment is here, and he pulls the trigger. And so, his problems drift away, along with the smoke from the end of the barrel, and the life that he loathed more than anything else.


Im not sure the reason I wrote this. I was sitting in studyhall and just started writing, and the words came as I went along. When all was said and done, I guess what I was trying to say was that even though there are those people out there who look like they have the best life they could be given, maybe have the best car, or the best girl, or the best of everything, maybe they really dont have the best of everything. Nothing is ever what it seems, and this is especially true of human beings.

Words With a Purpose?

Why do we write? Perhaps it should be asked "why do fish swim" or "why do birds fly"?. We write because it is what we do, it is what we enoy, and most of all what we live. When writing we can say what others cannot, and will not. We can help those who understand nothing become more understanding than they though was possible, and we can give those without hope for tomorrow a reason to live this day as though it were their last.
I am asked "What do you think of when you write?" What I think is not what drives me, it is what I feel and what I see around me that dictates the words through my hand. When I write, what do I think of? I don't think of anything, the words write themselves.
"Why do we write?" it is asked. We write because we can.

Sometimes I wonder if anyone reads these, but here's another one anyways.

The Best Way In Which Words Can Describe

Sleeping inside me is an emotion I know to exist, an emotion I wish to have awakened from within. On the outside one would be able to see of what I speak, but only the one who truly knows my desires understands the feelings that inhabit my heart. With whom may read this, you who I speak of know who you be. I needn't say more nor say less, for credit should be given this individual for knowing what she needn't have to know and for listening when she didn't have to lend an ear. She cared when she herself needed a caring hand, and she understood what no other soul would attempt to. For this, gratitude will never be enough, and words can only say so much. Therefore, with that I wish for her to know that she will always have love from my heart, whether it beats or not. I will always have her in my thoughts and memories, until the time comes for me to surrender them accordingly. Thank you my dear, for the presence you bestow, and the life that you live to the best of your abilities. Thank you.

Where Do We Go When Our Thoughts Mean Nothing?

I'm not friend nor foe
My name you'll never know
My face you'll never see
Even as you pass by me

I am a nothing, a nobody
My soul is dead, my heart is bloody
You are something to me though
But that you'll never know

You know nothing about what's around you
If you did, would you know what to do?
We hide in the darkness to get away
If you saw us, would you know what to say?

We come out at night to live
What you carelessly take, we give
But you're asleep and not aware
Of the new life that we share

One day you might awake
Finding the real world so fake
Finding yourself hiding from light
And wanting to feed at night

:feedback:

tell me what y'all think...

Good job, I like that, kinda how I feel sometimes. BTW, welcome to AF :wave: What's your name n00b?

I look through the hourglass of time
and wipe out what's around
to find myself in a place
where harmony is the only sound

I walk among the clouds
and run across the sea
to see the other side,
the other side of me

I put behind all the darkness
and cover all the fear
to step into the light
that began with a single tear

I feel the drifting wind
as it embraces me with love
and lift me up away
as i fly to the sky above

But is there a sky?
That, I do not know
Maybe there isn't
Maybe there is so

But in this distant land
where I'm my only friend
I wander about to find myself,
to find myself again......

Waterfall's Cradle

Lying behind a lazy waterfall
Between the trees, and wild vines clinging to bark
Twisted roots sip from a wrinkled pool
Colors and shades of green abound, nothing stark

Cooling and meditating is the breeze
Soothing and hypnotizing, water spatters on the rocks
A butterfly dodges the ricocheted drops
In the distance a woodpeckers beak knocks

Currents comb the furry moss
Two petals grow dizzy, in an eddy as it churns
A nervous racoon sips at the edge
I ponder natures wonders, and wiggling ferns

As I drift, an earned nap ensues
Hikings wonderful lullaby gift, and getaway
My troubles sip from a silent pool
Mother earth comforts completely, me today

Drop down another gear
Throw a rev or two without fear
Peel out and hear the shouts
The engines respond with a mighty roar
Pop open the suicide door

The rims keep spinnin
The tires, skimmin
Straining to keep the rubber side down
Kick out the rear
Traction control is all you will hear

If you wanna run with the big dogs be prepared..
Once you pop that clutch you can't be scared
Vision impaired, you'll be spared, as death approaches
The familiar sound of your engine coaxes

Soothes you, moves you
Keep up the pace
You don't wanna end up in 2nd place

Cut it fast to the right
Dissapear into the night
You'll be ridin the line tight
Punch it into boost mode
Hit the nitrous to keep it on the road
Another victory will be bestowed

wrote this last night...the previous night I couldn't sleep because I couldn't keep my hopefully-soon-to-be-girlfriend-again out of my mind.

Can't Sleep
It's 3am,
And I'm laying in bed.
Trying to rid myself,
Of the thoughts in my head.

It's 3.15,
I can’t get to sleep.
I’m trying hard,
I've reached a thousand sheep.

It's 3.30,
And I'm thinking only of you.
Wondering why you are so perfect,
And how you always carry me through.

It's 3.45,
And I think I’m crying.
Thoughts of living without you,
Make me feel like dying.

It's 4am,
And I know my feelings run deep.
But finally,
I’m falling asleep.

another...just finished

Worries
I try to live life,
With no regrets,
But your worry for me,
I connot forget.
I can't help but think,
I might die tomorrow,
And know it would cause you,
So much pain and sorrow.
Then I remember all I want,
Is only your happiness.
So now my line of work,
Just seems so fruitless.
But I want you to know,
That wherever you are,
When it's my time to go,
I'll remain within your heart.

Edit: :feedback:

darkness i didn't like your first one to much,opinion, but the rest were good. do u have a favorite writer? mine are edgar allan poe and stephen crane, i also like emily dickinson somewhat. anyway.....

as i lay
i look back
becuase i can't look forward
all is black
i hope tonight i will go
but i am afraid that i will know
my mistakes past and present
all the times i tried to forget
oh, thank God! its my time
and i think i've come to find
,but it really doesn't matter,
to choose between not living and dying
i would take the latter

what about everyone else? who are ya'lls favorite writers?

^ Damn...that one's deep. Nice work.

you talkin' to me?
if you are thanks

yeah I'm talkin to you. nice poem. Sometimes I feel that way, but I try to keep my head up and keep on movin.

Another writtin at 4am this morning.

Six Questions
Where do you turn,
When your life is a hoax?
And what do you do,
When you feel like a joke?

How do you live,
When it's all a chore?
And who do you trust,
When you've been burnt to your core?

What becomes your life,
When you find it's all a lie?
And Why go on,
When all you want is to die?

So when all that's false,
Has been unmasked,
Can you please answer,
The six questions I've asked?
--------------------------
Edit: I thought I needed a better close, so I added the 4th verse.

The Next Morning...

Today I woke into loneliness
An empty house filled with echoes of
friends voices and bursts of laughter.
Now my house is barren of activity
save for my wandering
making a futile attempt to
satiate my raging boredom.

Silence stalks me around every corner,
Shampoo commercials and B-rated Movies rule the waves.

Skirt Signals

She wore a skirt today.
A social move made for reasons unknown
as soon as I saw her my interest was shown
bare ankles grabbed my attention for a blink,
but I looked away after beginning to think
that I'm not supposed to love her
she's for somebody else
a subliminal skirt signal tells me to see
that the skirt she wore today wasn't meant for me.

Act like you don't know me

I saw her today
the girl I slept with last night.
We passed in the hall,
eye contact but wave or smile.
I said that I 'd give her a call,
but I was going to wait a while.
I don't think this thing will work out,
she's in a completely different social group.
I'm like a number in her alphabet soup
A stoner holding hands with the Gap girl?
Only if pigs can fly.
I guess our hook up at the party was just a whirl,
'cause I don't hear any oinks in the sky.


Pretty pathetic, huh? :screwy:

here's a poem i wrote,
A poem for you
A poem to you
This is so childish
A poem for you
Hope you’re childish
What to say in this poem
I have no clue
After all
I barely know you
A poem for you
Is all I can say
After all
You are in my thoughts everyday
A poem for you
Is impossible to write
A poem for you
Makes me wish it was night
For it is there where I can say
All of the things I can
Even though to my dismay
Nothing will come out of my mouth
A poem to you
Is really none
Because a poem to you
Wouldn’t do you justice
A poem to you
Is really me trying to have fun
A poem to you
It’s all over
It’s done

darkness i didn't like your first one to much,opinion, but the rest were good. do u have a favorite writer? mine are edgar allan poe and stephen crane, i also like emily dickinson somewhat. anyway.....

as i lay
i look back
becuase i can't look forward
all is black
i hope tonight i will go
but i am afraid that i will know
my mistakes past and present
all the times i tried to forget
oh, thank God! its my time
and i think i've come to find
,but it really doesn't matter,
to choose between not living and dying
i would take the latter
I know it sounds cliche, but Robert Frost is mine.