Words

I hesitate to disclaim what this poem is about before I post the poem, simply because I enjoy hearing how people interpret my poetry! Thus, I will refrain from posting the reasonings behind this until later. :) Enjoy!

Words

He gathers the elusive
stars of night, and
depicts
their silent
brilliance
as a resounding symphony
to those who are
only able to
see
through the echoing veil.
She derives the songs
of the birds,
sketching the tones
as a harmonizing palette
before the ever-watchful
gazes
of those
who can only
hear
through the painted melodies.

Thoughts?

Approach

It is well into the mire,
upon which dances
an everlasting war;
naysayers frequent among
the turbulence of the days,
battling, in part,
the One they were
written for.
Until the latter dawn
bows down unto the nights,
the ember that
sustains impossibilities
will eternally reflect
the Light.

Poem #564?

So, here is another poem. (You guys haven't said that you wanted the next part of the story thingy, so that's why I haven't posted it yet, just sayin'. *whistles innocently*) Anyways, random poem. I do hope you enjoy. Hopefully, more poems will soon follow!
(And the rest of a story if someone posts...! *COUGHCOUGH*)

;)

Goodbye

Across the threshold
I step,
tentatively,
awaiting your cry
for me to return.
Goodbye.
I do not know
why
I still have hope
that one day you might
see me as
more.
Goodbye.
I do not take
my leave from you
willingly,
but because
I have been led
away.
Goodbye.
Perhaps my beliefs were
wrong;
maybe you won't
realize
I'm gone.
Goodbye.
I slowly turn
around.
Looking back at
what I am
now
leaving behind.
Goodbye.
Suspended in the
cruel graps of time
I wait, painfully,
for you to see
me.
Just one last time.
Goodbye.
The moment is stretching
further,
I cannot
keep it open
much
longer.
Goodbye.

Never Meant for Me

I wrote this poem, but it just feels awkward in verse form. Think it would be better as prose? Comment your opinion, please!

Years pass
hidden
away in a drawer,
forgotten by others,
unknown
to me.
The contents
are revealed
many
years later,
Reminiscent
of things that
used to be.
A memory surfaces
in the form of
a letter
many
pages in length.
Blow away
the dust and read
words
that were never meant for me.
A name appears,
my own,
alongside of a hope
that I'd held onto for so
long.
Hope that, as written,
was never meant to
be.
Conversations,
conventions,
I was not aware of
fill
the pages,
and I discover the
truth
of what was
never meant to be told.
Though it is years
old, I realize
my hopes
were all in vain.
Feelings
trust
are all broken.
The love,
faith,
freely given,
I withdraw in
pain.
Because of
what will never be
meant
for me.

Free

Into the end
we plunge before
the fall.
Driving ourselves,
furiously,
against the
fear
permeating our existence.
We ride,
unable to suppress
the sweet defeat of freedom.
For we are only
released
from the bonds we hold
when we are
beaten.
Thrown to the dirt
in the midst of our
meager lives,
we give up our last
breath
to the One we leapt for.
Only when we are
dead
to the world,
but alive to those
who have also trusted the unseen, and
believed,
will we truly be
free.

Their World

Echoes rage through the water.
Children laugh,
But not
there.
Troops trudge through bloody mire,
again wishing for a
true
honor to claim.
Their world spins
slowly
while their home
resumes its pace.
Still
their hearts throb for normalcy
but they move on,
valiantly,
to meet their
fate.

3rd in a Series of 4!

Snow, A Banana Peel, Starlings

Staring beneath crimson trees,
attuning to
apples,
snow alights
harmoniously above
protesting moons.
Freezing regret passes
by and settles
along a child's
feet.
Whilst a banana peel,
spongy and yellow
from
vitamin deficiencies
rests atop a mailman's
head.
All around, starlings
clutch
bits of pink paper
in slender beaks,
preparing to nest
amongst
Thanksgiving feasts.

Interpretation swells
as I leap,
far beyond endless
collaboration
within remedial
oration.
Well past simple
comprehension,
thought exceeds
normal pacification
and ventures through
realms
originally far-fetched,
but now only
well-versed
nonsense.

Mourning

No, I am not mourning. Neither am I sad. I have just been writing poems rather randomly recently, in the sense that I just simply allow myself to write whatever comes to my mind as my pen hovers over the paper. So, this is what my mind came up with today. ^_^

Mourning

What can we
be,
but waywards ones
sifting through
years
of loss
if we continue
in this way?
Shaky memories,
torn battles,
and fallen loved ones
try to part,
to breathe a final farewell,
but are siftly
ensnared
by mourning souls.
Why can we not set ourselves
free
from the prisoners
we hold?

Easter-ish Poem?

I have another poem. Are we surprised?
...no, not really.

Anyways, it's untitled. Wrote it Sunday during a random inspiration attack during the song service at church. *hides*

Alas. It did not turn out the way I wanted.

Through the ages,,
we've looked,
watched,
waited.
An invisible nation
of many,
scattered impetuously
throughout the world
and time,
anticipating.
We are
linked as one
eternally,
though estranged,
isolated
from our people and
home.
Our King,
seemingly forgotten,
quenched by the
pathetic practices
of this fallen world.
Our King will
return,
bind together
those who have
never known
belonging;
He will rise up
as the ages begin to
fade,
delivering us up
into the promise we
were given.
Reunited
eternally.

Cure for Loneliness: Tea

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

I have come up with an answer to Adwen's poem title, Cure for Loneliness: Tea. :)

Such a dear friend,
a warm cup of tea.
Comforting,
nurturing the
mind,
warming, heralding
to deeper skies.
It pursues tears,
sorrows,
distributing momentary
eradication
of doubts.
It encourages
thought,
bypassing the shallow
processes
accompanying loneliness.

(An extra section that I do not know if I should include or not. Comments?)
In an unfortunate turn
of events,
is it not logical
that one with no
preference for tea should,
indeed,
always be lonely?

...I do feel like I dipped into a Jane Austen flavor on that last section.

Poetry Projects!

So, on the DIOM forum, a group of us have decided to write poetry based off of one person's actual WIPs titles. I have taken initiative (I'm so proud of myself!) and written one already! :D

The titles that were proposed are as follows:
Snow, A Banana Peel, Starlings
Cure For Loneliness: Tea
Prior to the kidnapping
Document22

So, being as that I am a writer, and this is a piece of my writing, I am naturally going to post it on my blog. However, I must accredit the titles to whom they are due, Once Again White. *claps* I must invite her to join my blog. Skye, do you know if OAW has a blog?

Anyways, I present to you, the first in a series of four, my (hopefully) delightful poem!

Prior to the Kidnapping

Upon wings such as these
we had not believed it was so;
striving,
surviving,
till we fell unbidden
through stars,
ice,
and what was left
of what had been.
Only they remained,
relenting,
protesting obscurely
of perilous
dominion.
Having seen
that which
has not been beheld,
we waited.
Endless darkness,eternal black
plummeted by,
arced with embers,
and torn by light.
We waited,
ever-watchful eyes
scanning the distance.
Gold streaks slammed towards
the earth,
taunting our existence,
belittling trivial
ires
as we were
overcome.

A Poem Composed Among Sorted Paperclips

Why yes, you did read that right. I was at work today, and there was absolutely nothing to do. NOTHING. AT. ALL. I finished all of my work early. Anyways, I busied (somewhat) myself by organizing my desk, organizing the file cabinet next to my desk, organizing the drawer under the file cabinet next to my desk, then finally, decided to re-organize my already spotless desk. Meanwhile, I found some paperclips that were crudely thrown in a little storage space. Spotting an irresistable opportunity (you find things are much more amusing when you're hopelessly bored), I snatched the pile of paperclips and sorted them by size. Once they were neatly arranged (this process, I daresay, took a mere fifteen minutes), I seemed strangely drawn to my purple paper tablet (why yes, it really is purple, and no, I didn't bring it to work, it was there before I was), so I tentatively picked up my pen and twirled it in my hands once or twice. It was as if the pen had a mind of its own(this is all sounding strangely familiar); I set the tip down on the sheet, and proceeded to produce a precedented poem of primarily permissive purposes(amongst paperclips).

Alas, I present to you, yet another titleless poem. *bows profusely*

The wind promises
to sweep away
doubts, cares,
to reestablish trust.
Sighing breathlessly,
impatiently dodging
around eternal instability,
it flutters and leaves,
tiring of indecision.
Beckoning those
who leap
faithfully into tendrils of air,
forever grasping to
unseen arms
strong and unpredictable,
whisking away to adventure
and adversity
but always cradling
those
who believe.

*ahem* Poetry? No duh...

Another poem, the writing quality is mediocre, but I felt I needed to pour a glass of my heart out.


Unsung

You stare at the floor
Wishing you were someone else
You’d take back everything you said
Knowing nothing would turn out right.

You are so blind.

You look at your reflection
Seeing nothing special
You dream of big things
That you never expect to see.

Don’t look so surprised.

You wear the same pained expression
Day after day after day
Hating your own existence
Wondering why you’re here in this way.

I know the way you think.

You grimace as people walk by
Not wanting them to see you
Not because you’re at all shy
You just believe no one would want you.

But I see you, in a different light.

You care when others hurt
You comfort when hope is lost
And nothing can stop you from
Standing up for your friends.

Can’t you see?

Your faith is inspiring
Your loyalty rivals that of many
A better person to trust
I have never had.

This is how I see.

Believe me when I say
My friend,
I wouldn’t have it any other way
Because you mean the world to me.

You are my unsung
Hero.

WHEE!

Another poem, written quite a while ago, just recently unearthed out of a drawer by yours truly. Warning: It is sad. Comments, of course, are encouraged.

Pain

You cannot see it.
I cannot help but feel like I am
Caught in a torrent of misery.
Drowning in hopelessness.
Loving you when you love another.
Suffocating.
Choking on my love,
Trying to keep it from consuming me.
But no matter how much I try,
I cannot forget.
Pain.
You will never know it.
The desperate despair that
Is a constant shadow
Will not let my heart
Forget you.
I cannot stop my heart from beating
When it knows you are near.
My love for you, pent up inside,
Begs for fresh air that will not come.
I cannot strangle my love
Cannot kill it, so that I might have relief
From the pain
That you cannot see.

What is it with me and poetry...?

I cannot seem to stop writing it, even though 'tis not my forté! This poem is about a year old, 'tis depressing, yes, because I was in a depressing mood when I wrote it. But ah well. I was going through a hard time. Another shall follow after this, I believe, because I found them both in a drawer I was rooting through.
Need help with a title, peeps! Comments and critques welcome!

Untitled

And so, I walk on.
The same path I trod before
The way of self-inflicted agony
The road I thought I had left behind.

I walk on.
As the grief weighs down
And my heart wonders how it is
To be loved in return.

I walk on.
Wondering why I jumped into that hole
Chiding myself for not being on my guard
Wishing I could leave my broken path behind.

I walk on.
Slowly dying inside
Unable to hold a smile
My mask has become my pride.

I walk on.
What is wrong with me?
Why can I not forget?
Did I betray my heart in the end?

I walk on.
Ever so slowly now.
Wishing I could forget
That I ever loved at all.

Even so, I walk on.

Another Poem!

Yes, I know.
I have neglected my writing blog. I am ashamed.

I have not written in a while, except when I am brutally forced to do so by my professors. ;)

Yes, yes, I know. Shame on me.

Anyways, here is a poem I wrote for class. :)


Parting

Green eyes
Infused with cobalt haze.
Unruly laugh
Resounds freely.
Calm essence
Emanates concern.
Wide smile
Hints at dawn of evening stars.
Final embrace
Of enduring arms.

Poem!

You know, for someone that views poetry writing as excruciatingly challenging, I tend to write it quite often. :o

Melody

Encompassed in stunning silence,
The world, surrounding, wanes.
Struggling to grasp that thin alliance
To ensnare the echo that eludes

Those unable to perceive the noise.
Vision may resonate vibrantly now,
Though dully to those with no choice
But to relinquish the sound

In exchange for tranquility.
It is seemingly blissful and serene,
But for those with the unwanted formality
Of living perpetually in noiseless harmony,

It is to be encompassed in stunning silence.

Sonnet

As much as I don't like poetry, I write a lot of it. Here's a sonnet that I had to write for English this past week. And, if it doesn't make sense, it's really not supposed to.

What Has Been Said

From under the black skies the wander’r came
It is said he wanders, but is not free
He came with great purpose and without shame
From beyond the unknown and past the sea
Into dead realms he is said to breathe life
“Look here,” He whispers. “Come out of your mire,”
The lands turn to him, broken down by strife
“Look here; what was a spark is now a fire!”
They say he scatters a blaze with bare hands
Seeking to give life to realms that were lost
He leaves his mark on the fire-kissed lands
Restoring their glory, mindless of cost
He wanders alone, yet is somehow led
But this much I know, it’s what has been said.

Yet Another Poem...

I wrote this one about a month ago. Disclaimer: I am not a poet, and yes, I do know it. So please do not have any preconceived notions on how this poem is going to be.

The Journey

I started along my desolate path,
Wishing there was a shorter way to take,
The trail ahead seemed so dull and forlorn,
There was a dismal sensation I just couldn’t shake.

For so many miles I walked alone,
I trudged along till the pain I couldn’t bear,
With gasping breaths I collapsed to the ground,
Indulging my senses in my strong self-despair.

I reached out for something to hold on to.
Would I have to scream for someone to come?
I looked straight ahead, as if the dark wasn’t alive,
What I saw then might not have bothered some.

A pinpoint of light in the shadows was there,
Most might’ve considered it a good sign.
But I thought of it as a curse, a trick;
For what through this horrible darkness can shine?

The ember of the night stared me in the face,
Drawing closer with a hazy glow,
I shrank from it in absolute fear,
There was nowhere I could go.

I forced myself to stand my ground,
Though my heart quivered with fear,
My muscles heaved in weariness,
Somehow, I sensed that my end was very near.

Suddenly, from out of nowhere, You appeared,
You leapt out protectively, your back to me, Your hands reached out,
I recognized You, but I knew You not,
Though You’ve always known my every thought and doubt.

You seized the spark, cradling it in Your palms,
Turning back toward me, Your smile spread wide,
You knelt down before me, Your hands opening to reveal,
The ember I’d feared, and whose purity I’d denied.

You looked at me reassuringly, and with a nod you said;
“Take this gift and know just how much I care for you.”
Hesitantly, I lifted my hand and touched it to Yours,
It was then that I realized, everything about You was true.

You tilted Your hand, letting the spark fall into mine,
The ember dimmed instantly, I thought I was causing it to die,
You groaned softly, did You feel the ember’s pain?
A tear rolled down Your cheek, my heart wrenched. I can’t bear to see You cry.

How awful am I, to have accepted such a gift!
For the exchange was for my pain, for all of my grief,
My Hero, my Rescuer, how could You believe,
That I am worthy for this, that I deserve this relief?

I knelt down to You, trying to see through my tears,
I clutched the once-living ember, that died because of me,
“I’m not worthy for Your gift,” I sobbed.
“There’s no way I can ever be free.”

I pushed my closed hands to You, my head bowed in shame,
I felt You open my hands, and then heard You say;
“Look up, My child, I want you to know,
That you will for the first time, see the brilliant light of day.”

I raised my eyes, and let them rest upon Your kind face,
“Watch here,” You whispered. “Come out of your mire,”
Then You blew on the ember, bringing it to life,
“Look here, for what was once a spark, is now a fire!”

The spark erupted into flames, consuming my hands,
But I had no fear, I felt no pain,
The inferno spread all over my body, Your fire consumed my evil,
On my skin Your healing blood was forever stained.

My world came to life.
For the first time the darkness was nowhere in sight,
My aches and hurts were gone,
For I had been saved by Your Light.

It has been many years now, since that day when You found me,
My journey here has almost come to an end,
I look back in wonder, my King, and I marvel,
At how You ever came to me, and asked me to be Your friend.

Lord, how have I gotten this far?
What has happened that has sped up time?
For now when I look at my heart’s poem,
I see that You are the one who finished the last rhyme.

Another Poem

So, I'm currently working on a couple of things, (most of which are school-related. :P) but I'll do my best to post things like poems, little blurbs, and possibly chapters from my stories.

There is, though, a poem which I wrote for my Christian Writer's Guild course that I can show to you right now... Again, poetry is not my thing. So don't expect much.

This poem is untitled, but, if you have any good names, I would be extremely willing to hear what they may be.

Here it is...

Untitled Poem

I’ve never seen you like this before.
Your face doesn’t hold the joy I knew.
As the doctors work hard to give you back your life,
I stand and watch in shock, it’s all I can bring myself to do.

My head is spinning; the nurses are pushing me away from you,
The tears that slide down my cheeks, I don’t bother to disguise,
I know nothing that’s around me; I see only your face.
My friend, please wake up! Please open your eyes!

The doctor is telling them to let me stay; his tone holding blatant defeat.
The nurses let me go. I rush to your side and carefully touch your forehead,
Your neck is as stiff as a board, but it’s turned at an awkward angle.
“He’s in bad shape. He may not make it.” The doctor has said.

All we were supposed to do was meet and talk before school,
It seems like only a minute ago that you were okay, standing next to me.
You were smiling and laughing hard; you were safe by my side.
The events that would soon take place, we didn’t even see.

Why did you have to run out after my papers that blew away?
They weren’t worth that much to me. Your life means more.
Why didn’t you stop when I screamed in alarm?
I was paralyzed with fear to my very core.

The man in the Mustang was no Good Samaritan,
He sped past without even looking back,
Watching you get hit was like having a nightmare that wouldn’t end
You landed in the grass, limp as an empty sack.

I grab your hand and grip it, hoping you’ll squeeze back,
You’ve lost a lot of blood; you’re all torn up, my friend,
If you looked in the mirror, you wouldn’t recognize yourself.
The doctor is saying there’s no hope; you’re nearing the end.

The apprehension is strangling me; I don’t want to let go of you.
“Time, why are you always against us? Why have you hurt us so?”
My friend, please don’t leave me now,
There is so much I want you to know.

We’re alone together, the doctors have left,
They say that your heart is straining to beat,
I won’t lie, they say that there’s no hope,
But I know you well enough to know that you won’t accept defeat.

My friend, can you hear me?
I told your mom that you weren’t doing well,
She’s coming here to see you right away.
Though how bad you really are, I didn’t tell.

The hospital put some pink flowers by your bed,
Cause they know that you love pink carnations,
I pocketed the blooms, and replaced them with a picture,
It’s of me and you, living life with anticipation.

My friend, your excruciating silence is unnerving me,
I wish you would wake up, and talk like everything was fine,
Time has been nothing short of a Brutus figure,
Show me that you’re still there; give me some kind of sign.

It’s been many a restless night for us,
Everyday your breathing seems to wane,
The little hope that I had at first is gone now,
I realize that all of it was in vain.

Will I ever again see the sparkle echo in your eyes?
Will you flash your heart-melting smile once more?
I need for you to wake up so I can tell you,
You are the friend that I’d been looking for.

Are you there, my friend? Do you know that I’m close by?
The doctors have said that we should let you go,
They said your mind has died, but your body still lives.
I’m not giving up on you; this I want for you to know.

We’re three weeks into the battle, yet only one day into the war,
You’re tiring of the fight, but don’t give up now,
We’re lifting you up in prayer; it’s in God’s hands,
You’re safe in His arms, for anyone to snatch you away, He won’t allow.

They said it’s time, my friend. I must say goodbye.
I don’t want to let you go, but I know I should.
It’s selfish of me to want for you to endure the hurting just to stay a little longer,
But I know just for me, you would.

That’s why I’m saying this now,
I don’t want you to have to suffer the pain.
It’s okay for you to let go, you don’t have to hold on any longer.
I’ll miss you terribly, but I know I’ll see you again.

I love you, my friend. You’ve taught me so much.
I wish we could’ve had more time together,
But of the times and fun we did have,
The memories will last forever.

Farewell, I love you so much.
Relax now in the Father’s embrace,
Trust Him and all will be alright,
For He will take you to a better place.

Your eyes open, revealing a stunning crystal green,
You look straight at me, and shoot your trademark smile,
With a deep sigh, you close your eyes peacefully,
My friend, you have finally overcome the last mile.

A machine next to you suddenly chatters, and then holds a single note.
Tears stream shamelessly down my cheeks.
I hold your hand to my face and smile weakly.
Gone now is the ache that burdened you for weeks.