(3/13/2013 2:55:00 AM)
The Average Questions.
No one sees my pain.
I hide under a wall.
A wall of happiness,
Or so it looks like.
I’m dying inside.
I feel my soul,
No one cares.
I had a person to lean on.
He’s not Jayden anymore.
Nedyaj doesn’t like me.
He dislikes me.
They all are.
Why should I care?
Let it roll off my back, huh?
I won’t let it roll!
WILL THEY MISS ME! ?
REGRET THEIR CURTNESS! ?
FEEL GUILT THAT I PREY,
THAT I PREY
For all eternity.
I want to watch their faces at my funeral.
See how sad they are.
Will they even be sad?
Will they still know happiness to carry on?
I doubt they’ll care.
(3/8/2013 4:51:00 AM)
Web Site on the Mind
What blows you onto my mind,
On a windy and foggy night,
Along the riverside, across my heart.
Your innocent smiles weave like water towards me,
Mists lift, lamps cheer,
What is melting my soul bit by bit
- is a whole new website.
Slow down, time!
Just let me click that website.
Remark: Thanks to David for helping revising the poem so that you could appreciate it as it is now.
(3/7/2013 6:06:00 AM)
No rules ne'er rest your pinions, but sure hope,
To wake in wondrous thought's in many and many
And formed illness, cause minds madden swipe.
Your cottage full of dreams, of freshness wing,
Which power brake your noble flow, and how?
Ha! bow I sweet, my sweet for ever you sing
Let me spread your secret cipher, with emotes,
Most colored yours, still man needs you, do you?
So he, though he mortal sleep in your shades
Our somber ideas here, too far wish we glide
From this world -sour with hopeful Ecstasy
But soul that rise, here dear, still in me fade
Misfortune leads despair, and fear desires,
O' beauty! utterly falls, nothing lasts
(3/7/2013 3:53:00 AM)
The Three Stages Of My Life.
Bruised and lonely as i sit, I ponder upon what has made me this.
Bending down to see how far does this go,
the shades of memories making me low.
The three stages of my life, i see.
Kid, Child and teenage namely.
Each emphasizing to its own,
Pointing out, every mistake, equally grown.
Giggles of a new born, do i hear,
Grumbles of a youth, do i hear,
Crises of my teen, do i hear.
I hear the agony of a broken crayon,
I see the distress of un-satisfied wish for a chocolate,
I feel the miseries of a broken heart.
I hear the bliss of making noises,
I see the pleasure of being the favorite child,
I feel the joy of getting someone's attention.
I hear the passing bells of a pram,
I see perplexity to decide the favorite cartoon,
I feel the dilemma of two different perspectives.
Walking beyond the lane of my memories,
i halt at a place called present,
I stand up from the place of despair,
Grasp all those sheds of tears and Smiles..
And Begin walking towards my future....
(3/2/2013 6:31:00 AM)
FALLING INTO LIPS
On the time line the sky clears
Merry, merry it does in the land
Memories of the spider web cries
Falling snows in paved isles rain
Isles of water way in merry, merry
Broom are tit birds in reds
They sing merry, merry messeges
Restless whisles stand in seed beds
Falling like water drops are messengers
Footprints re-echoe and jump in merry, merry
Will the garden accept one tree
That merry, merry will hold the sounds
In the planted sheet orchard are the clips
In the merry, merry lips builds are found
The stars of carefreeness in the garden
Will the birds allow to go through the cliff
That the seated nature will overcome the greed
And hear the golded bells of lips
And fall into eternal peace within brims
Under the sweet berry of natured spurs
(3/2/2013 6:25:00 AM)
There was humour and drammar at the airpot
All were driven inside poetry
All had this globe to turn on and on
All had to dream for a dreamer
What if all dreamers were sent outside?
This airport, it swallowed them all
The love of poetry is intense inside
On each new sheet of paper to write on
(2/28/2013 9:16:00 AM)
the world is a stage
faces no role
and pretend there is a role
why do you pretend
why do you pretend
(2/28/2013 3:52:00 AM)
What theme, the poetry contest focus on?
(2/26/2013 10:08:00 PM)
I don't see a contest. Thought I'd rather leave you this.
Eyes force open…alert…aware.
Legs, restless with the clutches of dawn.
Sky still sobs frozen droplets to glass…
Resting still on a woodland lawn.
November rain was falling; pale brown remnants were calling…
Shrieking sorrow long dead and dried.
It started with a will, and a wisp…
Bearing crisp from his sorrowful name.
Companions of mahogany and cedar nooses,
But never once menacing from any range.
Where everything is always the same…
Weeping for a solemn change.
Bloodshot windows of forlorn reveries…
Lingered temptation from beyond closed eyes…
Something amiss, something off balance,
Something tempting beyond exposed eyes.
I remember the knife, as it so glimmered,
Resting motionless between cracks of the counter.
Dull, rusted, sending a sorrowful echo…
In some pile of glistening, deadly powder.
I remember that blade, as it rode with the tablet…
Two fateful opposites of the same mirror.
Shedding the skin for a simple tool,
For complex margins of silence's error…
Soul of his laid down to serenity…
Where it will never fade to waver.
A bleeding soul lay to flesh…
Leaving dark stains upon the paper.
(2/26/2013 6:28:00 AM)
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Shouts of fear
and commanding tones
fill their ears,
nearing the dawn.
A lake of red shredded everywhere
so many dead
you will find there.
Once a calm field
now at it's end.
Now a battlefield when will it end?
Families across the sea,
hoping to see their dear
Will they ever see,
their lost ones I fear?