.:: Poetry ::.
Poetry n. The art of writing stories, poems, and thoughts into verse.
Poem n. A composition in verse with language selected for it's beauty and sound.
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This Is My Poetry Page.
I warn you none of it's very good.
Most of these are poems I either came up with for an english/creative writing class
Or that I thought up on my own.
Either way here they are.
Oh. And don't you dare call me a 'Poet' or a 'Writer' or I'll sick my pet rock on you.
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The Hate
Standing in a room full of people,
I am alone.
Alone in my pain.
Surrounded by their hate.
|The Hate is here|
Listening for things I don�t want to hear.
Whispers,
Their laughter,
Tearing at my heart.
|The Hate is in you|
Faces,
Their sinister faces,
Whirling around me
Like a merry-go-round gone bad.
|The Hate is in me|
Caged by my rage,
Am I a madman?
I cannot scream.
A shower of tears lets them know they�ve won.
|The Hate grows|
Shadows of happiness flicker like dying embers.
They�re raining on my parade.
Only I can see the hate unleashing itself,
On unsuspecting victim and leaving permanent scars.
|The Hate controls us|
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(This is a found poem. That is when you just write down random words you see around you then make a poem out of them. This explains why it doesn't make any sense...)
Words Left Lying Around...
Those who feel, a tragedy
Those who think, a comedy
Sun rises, sets
Hurries to rise again
Wind blows, twisting
Getting nowhere
Rivers run, never full
Waters return again
"We�ll not worry about that"
Old Streets
Jerusalem
What is right?
BELIEVE
Want a Friend?
Make space
Flat touch
Exit.
Journey of a thousand miles
Or a single step?
Safety away from children
I�m a Turkey.
That�s your whole dictionary?
Designs in tundra
Fiction in pencil
Water education
Love theory
Noble tomorrow
Happy today
"This isn�t really important"
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"Care To Dance?"
"And I don�t wanna miss a thing"
And I didn�t
But I had.
He�d asked me.
I, taken aback and totally unprepared, declined
said no.
Because I was "Tired."
Or so I�d said.
Maybe it was fear,
Fear of what might happen,
That made me ruin my chance.
I wonder,
Does he know I can�t stop thinking about him?
Does he know I really did want to dance with him?
Does he know I made a huge mistake?
Sitting in math class.
Talk droning on around me.
My mind takes me back,
Back to that night.
The serene darkness,
Music cradling my soul.
I see him walk over,
Nearly panic.
Looking down
Hoping he�s not coming over,
Hoping he is.
He leans into speak
"Do you wanna dance?"
I�m dying to know why he asked Me,
And why he looked just a little bit crushed the rest of the night.
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Why Have I Never?
Why have I never seen a sunrise?
I wake up and the sun�s already there,
Triumphant in the morning sky.
Why have I never touched the ocean?
It always seems that the tide is out,
Taunting me, forever too far to reach.
Why have I never built a sand castle?
The sand was always to dry or too wet,
Never cooperating with my frustrated hands.
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I Am
I am The Pied Piper.
and i am a rat in the pack.
I am David.
and i am the weaker giant.
I am The Benign King.
and i am the beaten peasant.
I am Your Hands.
and i am the broken bread.
I am Your Wife.
and i am a sweaty twilight rendezvous.
I am Your Child.
and i am just a mistake.
I am Your Secret Admirerer.
and i am your midnight stalker.
I am Perfection.
and i am everything wrong.
I am Love.
and i am everything you hate.
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Rain
I hear the rain
whispering at me
through the window.
It wants me to come play.
But it is late
and I am oh, so tired.
The clock
grimly announces
that I have insomnia
and that 2:24
is a lonely hour.
I'll close my eyes
shut off the clock
and listen to
the rain.
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Snow
It's snowing.
Fourth of October and it's snowing.
Sitting on the carpeted concrete floor,
looking out the patio doors,
watching the snow slowly fall.
Everything is silent.
Freddy sits in my lap,
nudging his nose
into my elbow.
And it's quiet.
Grass,
still green,
shows through the thin layer of snow.
And the snow still falls.
Leaves also green,
covered in snow.
They've not fallen to the ground.
The winter has snuck up on me.
Stalked, like prey,
then lept,
straight for the jugular.
And I lie bleeding,
crimson blood
spilling out
onto the pure
white
snow...
And all is still silent.
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