Poetry is new to me...

[Zanderuff]

Poetry is a new method of writing for me, so bear with me! I got the idea for this poem while reading Emily Dickinson, and just couldn't keep it to myself.


Forever lost,
Never gone.
Stop the tears,
But never done.

Your life gone,
You look ahead.
I'm left behind,
To cry in bed.

Eternal Darkness,
Loss of light.
Alone and quiet
In the night.

Time stands still,
But all too late.
Why not before
Your dreadful fate?

Blade on flesh,
Bloody stains.
I live on,
But scar remains.

The years go by,
Too slow it seems.
Live for nothing,
Nothing but dreams.

Five more times
I'm ripped apart.
Loss of breath.
Darkened heart.

Feeling nothing,
Completely worn.
Becoming numb.
I feel no more.

[Zanderuff]

Silence.
Silence come.
You are welcome.
To my ears.
To my heart.
To the room.
You are a part.
Silence.
Dreaded Silence.
Welcome to my heart.
No, sound.
You are not wanted.
Not desired.
Not heard.
Silence.
Come again.
Darken my soul.
Fill this hole.
This hole that they've created.
You who I hated.
Silence.
Not a voice.
That is my choice.
Cold embrace.
Upon my face.
These tears.
Formed by my fears.
Held back for all these years.
Release.
For I feel free
In Silence.

[Cavatica]

Oh, yeah. You were DEFINITELY reading Dickinson. ;>

[Zanderuff]

this one is my favorite poem...please lemme know what you think of it.



Working the Alley


In the alley
where I so often
worked, I waited for
my next customer.
Then she came--
I grabbed her and I
grabbed the tool--
with a smile on my
face I began to work.
I decided to play
a little first--
teasing her with
the tool. She
followed my steady
movements with her
bright green eyes.
Then I went for it--
for the sweet spot--
Oh, how satisfying
it can be to
hit it right
the first time.
As I thrust it in,
she screamed--
with a smile
on my face I
let her go--
she fell at my feet.
Blood on my hands--
the knife still in
her back--I left
that alley, where
I so often worked.

[Zanderuff]

Puddles



The sun cries and
wipes her eyes with
brittle clouds
stained grey.
From the sodden
Earth, vibrant trees
stretch their sinewy
fingers skyward to
receive her tears, and
dance with the
drifting wind, who
whispers tales of
traveled trails to
little children
skipping in
puddles on the
ground.

[Zanderuff]

*There are two methods I used in writing this poem that I'd like people to notice. Can you?*




Rainbow



Riding in a little red wheelbarrow
Waiting for the sun to arrive
An orange-breasted songbird
Sails away through the air.
As the bright yellow sun
Shows her face on the horizon,
Her long rays cover the
Tall green trees below.
Blue skies are shining above.
Around, everything is quiet.
Quickly running from the mountaintops,
Meandering rivers flow indigo.
In the West the sun will sleep,
Sending a purple cloak over the land.



*First: There's a rainbow in the poem, starting with red down to purple. You probably noticed that one though, huh?*
*Second: The first word of every line is the same letter starting the last word of the previous line. I couldn't find a good, working rhyme scheme, so I did that instead. Now, did you notice that one??*

[Zanderuff]

No Tomorrow



Flags are clashing, flying through air,
Around a field of death and pain.
Peculiar looks, they're full of fear,
Fathers wont see their sons again.
Another shot, another dead,
A field becoming drenched in blood.
This is where boys are forced to be men,
Trying to be brave and not to run.
Give Haste! The order has been blown,
To take the wounded and leave the site.
Focus now on how no one knew
Just how many would die tonight.

Tomorrow, the mothers will cry,
Carrying pictures of sons who died.

[Zanderuff]

this entry is just gonna be for a few poems from my two favorite poets, and my greatest inspirations for poetry.


Drinking Alone Under Moonlight
by: Li Po

Holding a jug of wine among the flowers,
And drinking alone, not a soul keeping me company,
I raise my cup and invite the moon to drink with me,
And together with my shadow we are three.
But the moon does not know the joy of drinking,
And my shadow only follows me about.
Nevertheless I shall have them as my companions,
For one should enjoy life at such a time.
The moon loiters as I sing my songs,
My shadow looks confused as I dance.
I drink with them when I am awake
And part with them when I am drunk.
Henceforward may we always be feasting,
And may we meet in the Cloudy River of Heaven.


by: Emily Dickinson

I heard a fly buzz when I died;
The stillness round my form
Was like th stillness in the air
Between the heaves of storm.

The eyes beside had wrung them dry,
And breaths were gathering sure
For that last onset, when the king
Be witnessed in his power.

I willed my keepsakes, signed away
What portion of me I
Could make assignable,--and then
There interposed a fly.

With blue, uncertain, stumbling buzz,
Between the light and me;
And then the windows failed, and then
I could not see to see.


Drinking Alone In Moonlight
by: Li Po

If Heaven had no love for wine,
There would be no Wine Star in Heaven;
If earth had no love for wine,
There would be no city called Wine Springs.
Since Heaven and Earth love wine
I can love wine without shaming Heaven.
They say that clear wine is a saint;
Thick wine follows the way of the sage.
I have drunk deep of saint and sage:
What need then to study the spirits and fairies?
With three cups I penetrate the Great Tao.
Take a whole jugful--I and the world are one.
Such things as I have dreamed in wine
Shall never be told to the sober.

[Zanderuff]

Answers

I walk
alone.
I sleep
alone.
I wake
from dreams
that were never
my own.
I write.
I talk.
Afraid to walk
from some
secret threat
unknown.
I lie
awake.
My nerves
do take
me down a
speedy path.
I cry
alone.
Searching
for home.
Trying to
find it,
in circles
I roam.

[Zanderuff]

In A Wood


A man with hair
As dark as night
Walked through a wood
Without a lantern light.

Humming and whistling
He hadn't a care
Of what was here
Or what was there.

He saw ahead
Upon a rock;
Someone had placed
Their long, black frock.

So then he thought:
"If someone felt
They should leave theirs here,
I'll leave mine as well."

So he left his frock
And walked away.
Humming and whistling,
He continued his day.

Soon he found
Upon a tree;
A small red hat
With a stripe of green.

Then came this thought:
"If someone felt
They should leave theirs here,
I'll leave mine as well."

So he removed his hat
And continued on,
Humming and whistling
Without a hat on.

Then he tripped upon
A small pair of shoes,
Something someone would
Surely hate to lose.

And yet he thought:
"If someone felt
They should leave theirs here,
I'll leave mine as well."

So he untied his shoes
And left them there,
Humming and whistling
With his feet bare.

The path then split
As night began to fall.
He knew not which to take.
Had no idea at all!

He looked up and saw
Amongst the trees
A little bluebird
Perched in the leaves.

It looked at the man
And flew to the left.
Then man thought then:
"He must know best."

He followed the bird
Deep in the wood.
And as cold fell with night,
He desired a hood.

The wood darkened,
The bird now lost.
He looked 'round at the trees,
Now covered with frost.

He began to shiver,
And looked down at his toes.
"Oh how I wish
I still had my clothes!"

Thus he died that night
In the bitter cold;
In the middle of a wood,
Lost and alone.

[futuredragonrider]

did u really write them? if so, yhey r xtremely awesome!!!!!!!
;D

[Zanderuff]

Once upon a time there lived a girl. She slept in a lovely little cottage made of gingerbread and candy. She was always asleep. One morning she woke up and the candy had mold on it. Her father blew her a kiss and the house fell down. She realized she was lost. She found herself walking down a crowded street, but the people were made of paper. Like paper dolls. She blew everyone a kiss goodbye and watched as they blew away.

"The Fable", My So-Called Life

[Zanderuff]

Yes, I did write them all. These are only a few, ones I've finished and am happy with. Unfortunately, I don't write as much anymore. These were all poems that just kind of came to me, and I simply haven't had as much inspiration lately, I suppose.