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A Selection of Eleven Amateur Poems
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These are a few choice poems I wrote before my college level poetry class. After said poetry class is finished, I'll probably post a follow-up soapbox just to see how they compare (and if the poetry class really taught me anything). I'll be honest, this is mostly for me, but also I though you folks could be interested, so why not? Keep in mind that I do not consider myself a poet, I consider myself a short-story writer, but as it's required for my major, I must write poetry.Untitled Lies are silver in the land of leeches But the truth is worth more than gold It's what they all fight over in the hours before dawn And when your porch is covered in slugs They slither into the sewers Trying to snatch one tiny blink Before it disappears in sunlight I used to think it mattered I used to think I cared But all I know is all I know And I don't know much about truth So toss me a coin Silver or gold I'm as broke as a beggar on crack Just looking for something to hold onto And I don't care if it's a lie If you're too proud to ask I'll tell you anyway It's not hard to own the truth True wealth resides In peace of mind I may not know the truth But I don't need a reason anymore Because if I died tomorrow It wouldn't matter anyway. Houses His house is haunted, perfect Living conditions for a ghost They pass through him like A boarding house; he lies Hitchhikers highjack his highway So I never drive that road He cowers in the attic when the sun Shines like a new Penny called the doctor When he said that he couldn't feel A thing in the basement stole His existence is falling ill Or in love he Can't tell the difference For falling is appalling when You swear there's none beneath you His house is haunted, perfect Time for fools to rush in I am his bonnie And Clyde has lost his nerve To tell him when it's raining Is a gift I have to give Him his time, his existence twists my lips Bear a cure and the fall No longer seems so far His house is haunted, perfect Emptiness in mine Big and blue and all alone, save A thing in the basement ate His ghosts cower in his attic When he steps out in my rain His house is haunted, Perfect Singing Stars And then I ask, If names were stars, how bright would yours shine? Because when you smile, you call the rain. Only the honey bee knows the sins of the tiger lily. And he never tells a soul. A secret is best when shouted from a mountain in the middle of nowhere. Then, God knows why I smile. And only God. And then you ask, If your eyes could sing, would they know my song? Broken Lipstick Cap Glass lines her left shoulder Where he stabbed her with the broken bottle Too drunk to aim, he missed her heart But not by much... She never bears her shoulders like she used to And she will lie if you ask her If she's ever been in love But if you see her laugh through broken masks It's the most beautiful thing in the world... She tends to avoid mirrors And dark places like deserted parking lots and alleys More out of caution than fear Fool her once... And she doesn't wear her lipstick like she used to And she will lie if you ask her If she's ever been in love But if you see her laugh through broken masks It's the most beautiful thing in the world... Forever Haunt We are spinning a fine web here we say Of intertwining threads of silver and gray Concrete veins of a skyscraper creature But deep chasms contain our darkest feature Fly faster than silence the dreaded sounds Humming and drumming and running it pounds Center of chaos and starbursts, illogically bound To the simmering echoes of something unfound Down hallways, always, echoing ghosts Running from monsters etched inside hosts A house dark and blue, forever will haunt Of Nothing beyond what we think we want Primal fear beyond knowing, darkness awaits Representing all that we've come to hate That Nothingness, whole, more power than man The thing we can't kill, the Nothingness can Hope withers in face of the darkness alone Alone, worthless, pointless, the Nothingness roams We fear what we are and will always become The Nothing inside us eating our crumbs And yet, there exists a moment before noon The white Something echoes, clearly a tune All is not nothing, nor nothing is all The Something is better than Nothing at all Fragment Micky sold his soul a couple hundred seconds ago Just to find out who he was in the present though He doesn't get that with each second He sheds his former skin And the person he wanted to know Died a couple hundred seconds ago Autumn It's autumn again A year after last The cars dash over asphalt And the sun quivers as we orbit Though no one sees the difference It's autumn again And the leaves are changing The same way they did The year before last And no one sees a difference Falling down a hill of roses It's hard to see the gray-lighted poses Struck by the memory in light of a dream A forgotten song in the swirl of a stream It's autumn again And I'm still at the foot of that hill I gaze at the clouds as they drift over time As they've done for five billion years It's hard to see the difference It's autumn again And again and again And again until life snags on a nail And waits just a split second there There are the little things that time overlooks Like the faded photograph of a high school sweetheart On a ninety-first birthday its a sight for very sore eyes He holds my hand now and whispers my song Look in his face and our steps are retraced I can't even see the difference Tomorrow Demain, demain, demain Derien, derien, derien Mon amour a partit mais il a dit Demain, demain, demain C'est rien, derien, derien Learn to swim and dive right in and never look away I won't forget my next of kin when I kill yesterday Tomorrow sings a promised land of life that's free of tears If there's one thing you should have learned, life's never free of fears Si j'adore un homme damné, est-ce que suis-je un pécheur? Mr. Griffon's Soliloquy Does it comfort you to know you died alone? Basking in your victory in the shell of indifference Laughing at those funny kids Who threw rocks at your window Baseballs in your yard They reminded you of the old days Running around with Charlie and Bill With skinned knees and apple juice And bicycles with cards in the spokes Did they make you smile, Mr. Griffon? Those silly kids who never know any better And who probably never will Learn There's a light on in your window And a ghost in your bedroom Even angels would get homesick for this rickety house There's a ball in your yard, Mr. Griffon And a kid climbing over a fence So tell me, does he bring you home? Is What do I know of love? A sickness contracted by the fickle A syphilis of the mind A contortion of the spirit Indeed, what do they know of love? “I love you” And as I do I love to lie to you And in the depths of a jungle That tangles their minds They declare, “I die proudly, save my love!” What do I know of love? A fool’s parade, a fiendish prank A carcass to be consumed by the ignorant And in the heat of a battle That mangles our minds We declare, “I fight loudly, die my love!” And a man can learn that a woman is a dungeon In which he’d be glad to drown And a woman can learn that a man is a hero Who will always let her down What do I know of love? A word that holds no purpose An excuse to act as fools A favor we ask our friends And when I see him standing there It is not love I feel It is not roses and wine, or thread and twine, or six children and a dog It is not dreaming It is not fluffy foolery It is not sickeningly sweet or savory sour or hideously halfhearted And when he touches my hand, it is not butterflies That make me feel ashamed of my chipped nail polish And I have no inclination of heaven or angels And I have no need for metaphors. I see in his eyes a deep brown and white No secrets, no pools of mystery, and no soul is in sight But between the secret glances In the negative space before we touch In the hidden limbo between Midnight and Morning It simply is Unmentionable I Dream In Color I dream in color But I live in black and white And she sings in circles When she's dancing a rhyme And he hears in purple Turqoise cutting his time When I dream in color I see dawn in ultraviolet The ocean may be blind But the moon is her co-piolet The way you perceive the weak Is that they feel too much The way I percieve the freak Is that he never knew much I dream in color But I live in black and white And in an hour, I will learn To chase the wild gray light The candle churns, the river burns And you know you're always right I dream in color But I live in black and white The moon's just a little bit fuller When you don't notice it's that bright And she runs in harmony When she's chanting a step And he sees no money But he never wept I dream in color But I live in black and white He sees the color in her gaze She stained his blackness white |
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