Here goes... ----- Sitting alone with my reflection I look into the black waters within Now standing at my inner shoreline The serene island of inner peace beckoning I take a dive into my ocean Immersing myself in my thoughts I swim out into the depths Ensnared now, my interest has been caught The waters stir, sullenly awakening As the waves lumber into life I’m carried further out as the ocean roars Opposing currents locked in bitter strife I swim, try to control my direction But I can only control it so much I sway, carried away by the motion No rocks in sight for me to clutch Thought this time I could reach the tranquil island Thought this time I could tame these seas But as I glance around dizzied and weary I can’t see it anymore; I don’t know where I am One day I’ll get there One day this water will be still But not today I’ll have to find another way
Here is the first of a five-part sequence of poems. They tell the story of the world ending in a nuclear disaster and it's aftermath...... The Final Midnight, Section I: The Drop The politicians bicker endlessly back And forth in anger, rage, and ignorance. A council grew too large to handle matters Beyond self-sustenance. The fire still burns From all the tension, soon to claim the world. They argue and argue and argue still. It’s all that Congress loves to do these days. Repugnant-cant’s and Demo-crap’s will simply Let the hole, still widening, consume us all. In years of foolishness, old men realize Too late that they are who’s to blame. For all The scientists will say the Doomsday Clock Is now a seer and politicians killed the Earth. The darkest day arrives. The day the bombs Come down. The deficit could not be solved, So China came to blow us up with nukes. In haste, they gave the bomber more than needed And just enough to kill all life on Earth. With the whooshing of the bombs, the world begins To cast away the dreams with harpy’s shriek. The vile noises bring man to a coda. The end of life on planet Earth arrives. Ambitions charred to ashes, blood to rust.
Here's a couple...Mine are pretty short Cry A clueless baby daughter opened her mouth to the universe Julia Turn on the exhaust So you’ll never hear me Lying half broken On the bed I wish I couldn’t see Just scared off Just scared off Are you lucky That I’m still here? Julia, come back I’ve never seen your face I know you’re falling To someone else Void of the backups, Of the dyed up hair Locks of gold Never fear Holes in your socks I’ll never let you drown Follow me Look at the knots I’ll never listen to my own Julia, come back I’ve never seen your face I know you’re falling To someone else Cover your eyes, I wont care Shut your mouth, I care too much Cover your eyes, I wont care Shut your mouth, I care too much I’m not sure where i am right now
The Birthday Cake Childish things, I left behind They never occupied my mind, Silly games of youth declined fallen by the way My parents I could not abide I failed to fix myself inside I wish they knew how hard I tried to stop from being gay I moved around from place to place, joining others in the race, working to maintain the pace I had to make my pay Because of those who would attack I struggled just to stay on track and like a knife into my back my trust they would betray Fears weighed down my sinking mood The years flew by in solitude and dreams that I had once pursued started to decay Ambition gave way to dispair and suddenly I idled there without a friend, without a care much to my dismay But by some wondrous twist of fate there was an ending to the wait Friends appeared before too late and they were here to stay So now we gather on this hour butter, milk, eggs, and flour Who knew these items held such power baked and on display? And as I look around the room their song and smiles dispel my gloom A beautiful cake to behold and consume brought out on a tray Knowing sorrow and rejection I take a moment of reflection, staring at this one confection, thoughts in disarray The lights turned low, the candles lit Reluctant was I to admit how much I really wanted it until this very day This childish exercise of mirth, This silly ritual of birth You've shown me that my life has worth What more can I say?
It’s okay, little one. (A lullaby from beyond the grave) Don’t worry little one, Tomorrow will dawn, Life will go on. You won’t remember me tomorrow. And when it’s dark at night, Will you remember my voice, Singing you to sleep, In the heavy morning air? You won’t remember me tomorrow. Will you still love me when my heart no longer beats? Don’t cry, little one, you’ll forget me by the morning. I know you want you mother back, But be strong, little one. You won’t remember me tomorrow. And though I will love you until you are old and grey, My darling, I understand that you won’t be the same. You were so young I went away, You won’t remember how my voice was weak from the countless lullabies, Or how there was life in my eyes and a smile on my face. You won’t remember me tomorrow. But I forgive you.
About sexuality and touches upon dysphoria an stuff. I suck at naming my poems... I'll call it Le ship ’Tis a ship! ’Tis an armada, That comes there o’er the horizon! ‘Tis equipped With sails d’bravado The burden of it! It looks to weigh a ton o’ tonnes! The fluid nature of its edges was met with disgust The other-clad longing-for was considered a loss Does a ship have truly desires of its own, As they drift serenely around the heterogenous shores Or is it merely a product of the labor Of those unfortunate enough to work aboard? They wished merely for the chance To glean past the horizon To sing, to gayly dance around any island For even though their heart was made of wood They early on effortlessly understood That the grooming of the deck and the swooning that was thereof Was but a game of chess And not who they truly was True it was and true it is That a heart of wood is easily lost and blind But whatever the cost, however you please It is wiser if you could just leave it all behind
Haven't written off the cuff in a lil while, let's see how that goes. Silently I stare at the ceiling Life passing me by in a haze Destiny calls me to blaze forward, but my body is deaf to the cries What does the future hold for me? I fear the answer is failure My fantasies are bright with color, but my reality is dull and gray Maybe in another life I could stand march to the battle cry of life In another time I might just live, but this time I am bound to sleep Each moment and every second inbetween they pass me by before I can blink I watch as time passes right by me, but am helpless to follow in its footsteps. Well...not terrible for a quickie X3
When i stand in front of the mirror what do i see? I see a boy desperately trying to hide every sign of his masculinity. But it doesn't matter how hard he will tries, He is still a boy, and cries. But when i close my eyes i see the true person inside, A girl trying to get out, who don't wants to hide. I can feel her getting stronger every day, She's here and she is definitely going to stay. Getting stronger by every attempt from him to hide his masculinity, desperately want him to show her femininity. Trying to adapt this body, So she will be out there for everyone to see. For years she has been hidden inside of me, And all she wanted was to be free. To live a life not led by the rules of society, But live as she feels and be! Though the road to this life is hard, I'm not giving up, i will take part. Nobody knows where this road will end, It might go straight ahead, it might be bent. I wont go back, that's for sure. Because behind me is only the past, i rather look into the future. Because sometime when he becomes she, I can finally be free. Dominique. "There is a brave new world raging inside of me" (Laura Jane Grace)
This is a cry for help, Can you hear me? With music in the background, My pain is just a song. But I won’t mince my words, And metaphors are just unopened suicide notes, So listen to me when I tell you, I’m alone and I’m lost and I need someone to save me. That someone is me, but you’d be nice too. When I closed my heart, I sealed my casket, And when I shut off my emotions, It was the last nail in the lid. But I was just a kid, I never knew it would turn out like this. I’m still alive but am I living? Or am I just existing?
I almost opened a new poetry thread before I noticed this one. So here's my first complete poem in English: Easy prey Darkly stands the mighty jungle In the night you solely mumble Prayers, but there's only fear. Eerie cries all getting closer Vile tunes from a mad composer Say the end is drawing near. Then you see him in the moonlight Standing like a triumphant sprite Looking you straight in the eye With a stare that sets you ablaze There's no ambush, no need to chase Time to say your last goodbye. But the sight of such a wonder With a growl like fearsome thunder Fills your soul with blissful awe. While it keeps away the sadness You just give yourself to madness Fateful death becomes the law. You can sense his fierce desire And you burn in orange fire Caught between his onyx stripes. Just a blink and you can feel him All around you and you're waiting For the moment when he strikes. You are lost in eyes of ember And you know that he'll remember Every bit he cared to taste With cruel sickles in giant paws And deadly fangs in lethal jaws He will soon lay you to waste. As you let him sate his hunger You recall when you were younger And you boldly used to say: "I would rather die a young man Seized by fast and brutal death, than Withering and slow decay."
Wow, these poems are amazing. Thank you all so much for sharing them here. I especially liked 'le ship' and 'easy prey' for some reason they both really resonated with me.
Thank you for the compliment, I wrote Le ship I've got a few more. I wrote them at a train station while bored. This one is my fave. It's about living with extreme mood swings (I am quite likely bipolar, but am yet to discuss with a professional and get a diagnosis, so no labels thus far) Black-white To the brim! Brim, brim, brim! Over the top Bubbling with hazel eyes set to the divine canopy above Endless potential. What joy! A breeze, the slightest imaginable... Everything gone, from black to white Nothing becomes everything Life distilled through a mist of melancholy Ah, sleep! Pretty, pretty sleep! Over the edge, milky eyes set to the dusty floor below A cycle has no beginning, just as it has no end this one is about confusion, quite simply Baguette, most boring Pitch-fallen seething wounds, over-bear the wheaten solitude of the petite pink panther, lurking on the outside, as the ever-expanding vastness of lifelessness serpently-like surprisingly surpasses conscious muse The muddy waters, inert and clarity-devoid, ripples on
Amaya The pixelated trees in the mosaic bathroom tile wall Makes my foot twitch In the toe of my left one I can see the leaf dangle Air stuck to the perfumed purple mist Of Amaya, permeates me and my clothing striped in dark swirls of colours The size of an ant hill in a Malformed neural nugget the size Of a rectal desire for ghoulish Food, grint and impish, feverish Screaming guy out the backyard Stomping on a pervert Who swamps his mouth every moment or twoish, He pulls up his baggy pants fullish, Girl with skin suctioned dirt speckles Wrecked, sweating, confuse me this with that it is black and blue contrast, No one human century ago enough to eliminate collective gasp, tundra happy with the misled fortune Of interlink relationship speeded garlic soft skin, push no to me to out of so perturb me chunk aside serial number of the woman breast to breast with face recognise leads one sultry down road outside of tempt... And tempt not to out of it, to father, tea and Tully useless rite and comma of doubt doubt doubt... Smiles and warmth of imprison back to train wreck road and boredom
Let's pretend Let’s pretend I’m 3 again, And you hold me in your arms. And I’m learning how to walk and speak and move. And you’re telling me I’ll do great, And you are my heroes. I love you, you know. Take me back to the summers before I grew. Let’s pretend I’m 4 again, And I’m doing well at school, I’ve made a couple of friends who I’ll love forever. I know we don’t speak much since time pulled us apart, But we’ll always be the golden trio in my mind. Take me back to the summers before I grew. Let’s pretend I’m 6 again, And the kids are crushing me with their words. It carries on for 9 more years Before they finally let me be. And I’m hoping they’ll like me better when I’m 17. Take me back to the summers before I grew. Let’s pretend I’m 11 again, And my world is falling down, And my mind is crumbling apart before my eyes. Let’s pretend we’re 12 again, And I’ve just left you. Take me back to the summers before I grew. And now I’m more alone than I’ve ever been before. Let’s pretend I’m 13, And their harsh words still hurt me. 7 years and the insults just won’t cease. They’ll see, when I’m grown, I can’t wait to be 17. Take me back to the summers before I grew. Let’s pretend we’re 14 again, And the world is harsh outside of us. Where I was fun for a laugh, but nothing more than that. When I thought my mistakes were the worst I could make, And I thought 17 would be such a pretty age. Take me back to the summers before I grew. Let’s pretend we’re 15 again, And I realise I’m alone. And all I have to keep me is the guilt dying will bring. When you and I stopped speaking, and you and I became us, And friends were born from the ashes, how I wished I was 17. Take me back to the summers before I grew. Let’s pretend we’re 16 again, And there’s lines upon my skin. Where I scratched in a message into my arms With a needle and in blood I wrote ‘I hate me’ and I meant it. And I thought if I was alive, 17 would be beautiful. Take me back to the summers before I grew. And now I’m 17. And I’m not pretty and I’m not liked. I’m just an average looking person, with an average looking life. And I look back on all my mistakes, And I see they’ve led me here. Take me back to the summers before I grew. And now you’re all grown up, And you’re 12, 13 and 15. And I wish I hadn’t been so cruel when we were growing up. And I want you to live your dreams, And you know I wish you well, I’m so proud of you, my brothers, Oh, if you only knew. And I remember sledding down the stairs, And I remember making cupcakes, And all the times we had our fights, And when we had our laughs instead. And now you’re all grown up, And you don’t need me anymore. So take me back to the summers before we grew.
(This is not a poem. Just a reflection by a very unhappy individual. Do not judge me for what I write here, it flows from a heart that is growing tired of life.) Everything and everyone who is dear to me, I will one day be separated from. Either they will leave, or die, or I will die. But separated from all that is dear to me, I will inevitably be. Like impressions on the seashore washed away by the tide, so too will my life experiences be washed away by Death. Then, my life will exist only as memories in the minds of others. Then, as generations pass, I will be forgotten even by my descendants; in time there will be barely even a record that I ever existed at all. There is no 'purpose' to this life. 'Meaning' and 'purpose' are man-made abstractions that do not have any existence other than in the human mind. Life is just what it is: a harsh struggle for survival, and if it appears otherwise for now, it's due to the (temporarily) well-ordered and organized technological society we have forged. But this could all be undone by a good solar storm wiping out the entire electricity grid. Then, just see the civilized humans show just how far they really have come, from being animals who will fight and kill each other to survive. And I must give a mention to man's inhumanity to man: war, rape, torture, child abuse...knowing that these things actually go on, this knowledge weighs on my heart daily. The collective pain of the world seems to hang in the air like a mist, and I cannot help but breathe some of this pain into my own self. This is truly the most insane aspect of life of all. The fact that people can actually be so cruel to each other. And the funny thing is, I don't just watch all of this insanity from the sidelines; I too participate in it. I too am one of the 'crazies', just by virtue of being a member of a society that allows all of this to occur. The world is insane, and the lunatics haven't taken over the asylum, they've been running it from day one.
Our life together The soothing music of words, fill this space with the rhythmic symbols of life, they flow within a symmetry of colors, a blindness that makes the lost beauty so compelling, take a moment to experience its embrace, a soothing blissful picture of eternity, with meaning that emerges out of the endless patterns of escalating words, that will eventually die away into a fading image of our time together, as one.
A poem about anger. Death to all Fire and ash Lighting and thunder Anger and rage Magma and lava Death to all Fuck the world Who'll be there to watch it all burn, anyway? This is the last fire, the one that shall remain forever ash It will not rise Death to all Fuck the world Why should it rise? Why force-feed light onto a world that has chosen darkness? We are paralytic at best We are the final flame, going down in fury and rage, from a world made to burn Death to all Fuck the world
Maiden Prince This cross I must bear alone The cage and struggle, my own Lying glass, painful truth But they say beautiful youth Why am I broken? Why am I shattered? Body a token of my mind, battered Lonely and confused prince Only have I seen him since Those far and future dreams He was kept between the reams Like a rip between the seams Slip, slip the prince did go Where only I can know I hold the key to his release If I use it he’ll be free, if I use it I’ll have peace But he urges me, “Oh beautiful youth, don’t. For if you choose me, they won’t.” They’re afraid of him, you see. Because inside, that prince is me. But they say “Beautiful youth, “You’re a maiden, tis the truth!” Then why am I broken? Why am I shattered? Body a token of my mind, battered Lonely and confused prince I will only see him whence I take my cross and tug my chain And shrug beloved family’s reign Truthful glass and painful lies I look now on my princely guise The scars from many battles won Yet still I long to be called son That cross I bore those days alone Just to be touched, Just to be known
This is poem I have been working on, off and on, for the past month, mostly I would add to it at work when I had down time. It has a pretty dark tone to it and originally was based around the young college student from Call of Cthulhu. This, from my perspective, could possibly be that struggle of someone who might be losing their hold on reality. Hope you enjoy it. An Unknown Whisper An unknown whisper speaks from the dark. It has such an odd timbre, that the words make no sense. It is an evil, insidious muttering. Creeping into my consciousness, making me question my own sanity. The words are so foreign, otherworldly even. What language is this enigma, of which, I have heard no such utterance before. These strange chantings coming from something. A presence that is so engulfing, and limitlessly ancient in its existence. Possessing an intent set upon destruction. Whether that intent is directed toward me, or on a bigger scale, I don’t know. Causing a primal fear to stir within me, and a helpless, even hopeless feeling, that overpowers all rational thought. This unknown entity continues to speak to me. My sanity waning, my coherence dieing, but not my resolve for absolution. Knowing not what course to take. The struggle destroying me from within, resistance seeming like a futile effort. These maddening whispers beckoning me. Calling me forth into the darkness, to yield under its unrelenting will. The perpetual torment feels unbearable. No peace to be found, or attained, yet for the one entity I can confide in. Will this madness ever subside? Is there a purpose to my suffering, or does this torture have no rhyme or reason? Must I endure this unstoppable will forever, until there is nothing left of me? Just a withered husk of my former self? These questions may never be answered, I might not outlast the onslaught, but I will not lie down. Until the whisperer reveals their true nature, before their intentions are made manifest, I refuse to submit and rebuke its power over me.
