Old, new, borrowed, blue all the poems you have no matter how embaressing pop them in here! I'm gonna shift through my old notebooks and post some embarresing teen ramlings asap :)

Gimme a second and I'll find some poems I wrote as a kid...

Ok, I wrote this when I was 12:

Drawn to the Waves

Waves crash onto the beach, reaching up the rocks
Trying to break free, scrambling towards the hills, rolling up the sand.
Ever closer, each high tide.
But it can never burst through the boundaries.
The moon commands
Air and water never cross.
Souls that the tide has trapped below the skin, just beneath the surface
They ride the waves, clawing at the foam and froth, thinking they can escape
The Blue Void

But my soul is drawn to the waves
I crave to slip under the surface and escape to a place with no boundaries
No walls
Let the currents take me, coil around me like silver rope
I would not be trapped
I would be free
No need for air
Just the exciting danger
Of the wild ocean.


***CRINGE***

Edit: Even more cringe-worthy - my pen name was Lavender Moonshine XD

-- Edited by electrosexual on Friday 26th of June 2009 04:09:14 PM

Here's one I posted ages ago on my Stardoll account (which I haven't touched for zonks, maybe like two years ago)

Have you had that feeling?
Unseen eyes are watching you?
The gaze of non-existence
This just cannot be true!
Theres a shadow and whisper
And a hiss of unseen breath
Theres a pattering of footsteps
And the filthy scent of death.

You see someone at the window
Then feel someone tug your hair
But every time you turn around
There is nobody there

Can you see the people?
Creeping slowly in the dark?
The sound of humans long dead
Leaving nothing, not a mark!
Theres a howling in the cellar
And theres crying by the door
Theres a creepy face in mirrors
And ghostly things galore.

Using a Ouija board to talk
You ask them all to leave
But they steal all your life away
You now no longer breathe

Such happy poems :) Another one from my Year 7 period:

Snow is...
The icing on a wedding cake
A white blanket enveloping the land
Frozen water floating from the sky (no shit)
Sugar from the sugar shaker
A crushed pearl scattered
A white ribbon tied around a mountain top
A flowing wedding dress
A beautiful white rose
Icy coldness.

I wasn't very inspired by the task our teacher had set us obviously...

^ Ha ha, I know that feeling. Here's a cheerier one, which I sent off to Talkin' About Your Generation once. It was published!!! YAY!

Burning sun beating down on the sand
Shielding eyes squinting tight with my hand
Sapphire blue ocean waves ride round
Screeching seagulls a constant sound
A seals head bobbing above the waves
Tourists exploring the endless caves
The taste of the salt on the breeze
Wild wind rustling in the trees
Cornwalls craggy cliffs crowding the beach
Sunsets orange as a round ripe peach
A labyrinth of secrets there
The song of the sea in the air.

****CRINGE****

I shifted through loads of shite and this is the best which is sayign something.

Deep regret, rotting hate.
A stupid mind in a twisted state,
Jealousy's a bad feeling
should let go my mind is reeling.

My heads hot from thinking
can't you feeling my body sinking.
whats the point in this?
It's been a while since I longed for your kiss.

My hearts light is a useless flame
Why aren't my feelings for you the same.
Hurdling forward my lifes on hold
for all these things I should have been told.

I miss you, but I don't
I care but I won't
I see your face in this stupid protrait
and wrap myself up in hate.


every think that when you were younger...i dunno you were slightly dramatic:P

I was reading my journal this morning, and I found this. I'd totally forgotten that I even wrote it. Not my best work, but I'm known to not have confidence in my own works. So like it or not, here goes...

Life-Giver

A scared little boy,
He hides in his room
While horrors unfold before him.

He only asked for a toy.
He didn't know it would be his doom.
All his illusions of love shattered.

Deprived of love,
He put the most critical eye on himself.
"When I'm perfect, I'll be loved."
He didn't know it could be his death.

After many years,
He finally learns to love himself.
Not wanting his story to happen again,
He takes to teaching others.

"You're like I used to be."
He speaks with soft and soothing grace.
"I can't take this anymore."
She speaks with an edge like ice.

In her he sees his old self.
In him she sees what she wants to be.
He is Dance-Man, protector of the frozen tundra.
She is Kirsi, a blooming flower.

Years later, she says to him,
"Eli, you saved my life."
In response, he simply says,
"You're like I once was."

This was written about my dance coach, after learning about some of the problems he used to have. The name Kirsi means "amaranth blossoms".

Here's one I wrote, no idea when:

His eyes, they peer into my soul
Where lay my heart, a barren hole
Remains, Im numb deep down within
As here we lie, pressed skin to skin
His lips murmur a silent prayer
His fingers twine within my hair
No tears to fall, my eyes are dry
No feelings left to make me cry
His eyes, they pry inside my core
My skin is burning, red and raw
I languish in my private hell
My body is an empty shell
He forced me down into his bed
His poisoned words sweet in my head
In innocence, I could not see
That I was used, he blinded me
His eyes, they chill me to the bone
My broken wills bent to his own
Unbidden, I feel my skin crawl
As now, at last, sorrowed tears fall.

It sounds rather emo.

I wrote this a second ago. We all know the feeling.

I suffer from the lady vanishes syndrome, let me explain.
She walks in and Im gone again!


it's about friends that are prettier/more popular/more noticed than you.

I wrote this just over two years ago, at the time I thought it was genius but now it seems clunky and contrived as hell. Fuck regulated rhyme schemes. It was about the last time I slept with Scalene, although I had no idea at the time of writing it would be the last time and he was to vanish shortly after. Moan moan, whinge whinge. It was called:

Reflections at the Balcony Window

Come away from the window, friend,
To face this lurid yellow light.
I hot-tea brown, you biscuit white -
The two of us like celluloid.
No matter, as the unchecked end
Will be a bright black; then the void

Behind our eyes fills up with shame.
You wish you only saw outside
The streetlamps from which you must hide,
But your guilt and hopeless remorse
Peoples the street with hurt and lame
(Shot through the limbs by you, of course).

You do not close the curtains, friend,
Although the square dark window gapes
Upon our mutual lingering rapes.
The urban blockscape opposite
Has no opinion, and won't tend
To unvoiced pleas. The composite

Anguishes, solitude and lust
Conspire against your restraint -
We each take up the other's taint,
Turning away from the square dark,
And in your hopeless eyes I trust
To see the self-hatred embark.

Why don't I suffer, as you do?
I stare out into mauve and grey,
The glum harbingers of the day.
Perhaps I am a soulless creep,
But all and only that I rue
Is 'goodbye' forming as you sleep.

Interestingly, I'm typing this up from the first draft and 'friend' was the word I settled on after scribbling out 'love' and 'dear'. Huh. There is also an aborted verse which began, 'But oddly, friend, it does not sting / To be mauled under a light bulb...' That could have been much better. This poem is better confined to the past.

bear with me i wrote this 3 years ago...and i have ALOT of stuff on quizilla :) so im not copying!!
Memories, of a time that I used to be,
So conceited and so lonely,
Always crying about, poor little old me,
Now that Im here, I do finally see,
That my thoughts were so empty,
I guess looking back on the life I lived,
Death didnt kill me, it was life that did,
False happiness so vivid,
But so was the pain,
My heart felt so rigid,
I used to listen to the rain,
But the rain was all the same,
It told me to remain,
The person who I was,
To not become someone I was not,
And I didnt forget, no, I never forgot,
Its just that at the time,
My heart was looking, so eagerly it sought,
For someone to share its weight,
Or so I thought; I made mistakes,
But over them I got,
I had battles to fight, and I fought,
With all my heart,
I fought to maintain,
The promise,
To always remain the same,
And now I dont know if thats true,
I cant judge me, only you,
But this is my reminiscence,
These are my memories,
Now come, and in an instance;
Judge me.


ok i know it kinda sucks but i`ve gotten alot better :)

 (P.s I kinda turned 15 only like a month ago!!)

-- Edited by Little_Miss_Sunshine on Saturday 15th of August 2009 10:51:53 PM

ok, believe it or not, I actually got rave reviews from my english teacher in the 7th grade for this little ditty;

As it simply turns out
as I simply look on
as I simply laugh loud
I hate you

As you simply just walk
and move along
as you simply just breath
I want you


I know, quite shitt-tacular! But, then again.... she seemed to like it XD

Now for a rather long one. I call it "Gothic Lolita Garbage by a Immature Sexual Brat of Estates"

Have heard of Lolita?
It's taking the world
In a flash

The dress are frilly
The aprons are pretty
The hair is devine
The make-up is perfect

You might think your one of them
But, your really not
You're just a sheep is a pretty dress
and At best, a sheep in a knock-off.

You slutty and ugly
Your rude and insulting
You don't give a damn for morals

A girl like you never
Could join the ranks
of the beautifuL
GOTHIc LOLITAS!!!!!!

These gothic lolitas
respect all their morals
and keep to a tight code of class

You always break it
and usually destroy it
With your acts of sinfulness
and lust

You think you look pretty
When really you make me
Want to vomit when I look at you.
To be honest, you disgust me

The things that you wear
I'm sure there illegal
Atleast in the South of France.
Or in Canada

These ruffles are shreding
Your skirt, it's deflating
Your shoes are degrading
Your such a disgrace.

Now that we're past the skin
And we know you've no morals
I can evaulate you failing persona

Well, for a start it is vulgar
Perhaps that is a beginning
Now, It must be said
You life is just about giving head

Just give sex a break
Like romance take over
But, yet your personas ideals of a date
are watching X-fACTOR with a take away.
Oh silly you.

You immature child, you're clueless about life
Your life is boring and dull, this I can tell

The Gothic Lolitas are pure.
Romance is the game and sex is for after marriage.
A date is simply a fruit nothing else.
A romantic evening is a dinner over candle light
walking on the beach then watching the sunset.

Now your family is a complete mess.
You have a quintet of children and
all of which are concieved to different men

Get your act together
and learn to act a her
no longer an it
You can be mature I'm sure.

Perhaps I'm just hopeful
I'm probably wrong about you.
Your roots are made, that I can't change.
But, hope is to rearrange.

I suppose in the end Gothic Lolita will end
Then your sheep head shall fall off
You shall then just move and I'd have been wasted
So, who gives a fuck about you?

I just wrote this during the now non-exsistent hour. Please tell me what you think.

I have another long one now. Put to the beat it was written to, it would last about 9 minutes.

The smile
across my face, It seems so out of place
But I hope that it doesn't fade away

The smile
across my face, It seems so out of place
But I hope that it doesn't fade away

I will speak
I will
I will smile

I will speak the simple truth
I don't usually smile this much
But, you are so special to me
The smile you have, it's so
filled with life, unlike mine
But, you still make me come alive
It's just so joyous
for me......
I know that
I can trust you
For ever
Can you?

The smile
across my face, It seems so out of place
But I hope that it doesn't fade away

The smile
across my face, It seems so out of place
But I hope that it doesn't fade away

I will speak
I will
I will smile

I don't want to be happy all the time
Well, fuck that is a lie - I do
They say that I'm not normal
I admit it's very true
You say "It will be alright"
As if it's something you lived through
They think I'm over-reacting
Well I'm not, it's just you.....
I know that
I can't trust you
For never
Can you?

The smile
across my face, It seems so out of place
But I hope that it doesn't fade away

The smile
across my face, It seems so out of place
But I hope that it doesn't fade away

I will speak
I will
I will smile

Up high, down low
I've got my whole life to go
I won't be there in time
So you just go on alone
If I pretend that your here
Is it your voice that I hear?
It's so quiet, so quiet
But, are you saying a word.

Does it hurt? Hell it does
Then why do you say it does not
Your fake thruths
That made me whoever I am
I more pain you cause
You more I fight back
I think you've realized
I have got to run
Get away

Now I'm gone
Do you miss me?
Can I trust you?
Fuck, no I can;t

The smile
across my face, it seems so normal now
I know that it won't fade away

The smile
across my face, it seems so normal now
Ever when I so so sad
I know that it won't fade away

I've been through all of the bad
And that was with you.
And now that you're gone
I'm left with only the good
I'ts obviosu now who was the cause
It was just you
I never had to change thing
And I didn't
Now look at me.
I'm me
I can't trust you
But, I can trust me

The smile
across my face, it seems so normal now
I know that it won't fade away

The smile
across my face, it seems so normal now
Ever when I so so sad
I know that it won't fade away

I have spoke
I have
I am still smiling

Now that the end is coming near
Oh well, I've gotten rid of you.
To say I've done this for the people
I admit it's complete shit
You told me it's all in my head
And I thought that it was true.
You think this torment is a game
Well it's not, except to you
You had changed.
Very slowly
From friend
To my enemy.

And now that
you are gone, I am happy with myself
Goodbye you shit headed fool.

There is probably so much wrong with this one, but I've literally just finished it.

One of my many English teachers have banned my class from writing poetry as part of our portfolio of work. He said it's hard to find something that isn't full of angst with us voicing how terrible the world is.

Me, being as stubborn as I am went to prove him wrong and tried to dig out some of the things I wrote about a year ago, and even more recent lines and ideas I've had on post its.

After some intense trawling and cringing I have came to two conclusions:
1) He was right
and
2) I should be smacked with a poetry book because I surely murderd the art of it.

I am looking to drown
Total immersion
Is a salvation
And when this is over
I want you to take me
Back to the start
Back to the start
Wash off my old skin
Leave me baby soft
Shining shining like Midas has touched me
This is taking so long.

^^I'm not sure Capulet could have murdered poetry, thought I'd have a crack at it.

It isn't worth the telling because you didn't ask,
Assumed it there or didn't care...
So this unsent letter is more for me than it is for,
Or ever might mean to you.

Your heart hardened by time,
Selectively amnesiac forgets to even wonder.
Choking on karma,
Tonight I heard in your familiar voice my own stale tears,
My very own forgotten pain,
A whole year in hard won recovery.

She, your choice instead of me,
Has found some other interest,
Some chance to play,
And broken you with her decision.

You called to share your injury with a soul you knew,
Was true enough to still care,
In spite of all these stories,
All these battles we have fought,
Have suffered through.

You knew outside of logic,
That I would listen,
Knew that I still loved you and loved,
The memory of what we almost (oh, we were so close),
Built together, what we almost had.

You didn't stop to wonder was it wrong (it was),
But I could not force a solitary ounce (though justified),
Of righteous indignation could feel nothing,
But sorrow for your pain.

It was the first time that we had spoken since,
When I have not fought to stifle anger,
Fought to silence,
Bitterness,
Struggled against,
Remembering hurt and furious tears.

The first time in a long while,
But it didn't come from pity,
Or a sense of wrongs made right.

It was the first time we have spoken since I moved on with my life.
The only time I've heard your voice since I have been with betrayed.
Everything somehow is changed.

You spoke about leaving,
And I thought about the hands that I never would know,
If you had been true enough,
Been wise enough to stay.

I suffered your pain with you,
But knew I would never have to feel my own again,
Would never have to find that they had been anything but true.

It was the first time we have spoken when I didn't wish that I was with you.

Who sees in me all of the things you miss when we we're together?
Who sees beauty, passion, challenge,
And is not bored by the fact I'll be true?
Who touches me like I am fragile treasure,
But marvels at my strength?
And I have found that in this love there is room to grow,
Forgiveness enough for me and enough to give to you.

Now don't laugh too hard. That's just cruel. My first real poems really (I generally do prose), written awhile back. Please excuse the last line in particular. Interpret it as you will (I'd be interested to know how you interpret it actually).

*I drink my tea with sugar and cream
Why have one if you can have three?
The best of you has nothing to do with me
The best of me has nothing to do with tea

I hope you don't drink out out of those fussy pots
The ones with flowers and bees and all that rot
Drop them from the balcony, eight floors up
Brown Betty is the girl that's hot

I'll meet you on the French side of the sea
Spain or maybe Italy
I remember you with chai and green
And the seas are always blue
if you remember me*

Um, another? Once again, make of it what you will.

*The grandfather clock in the hall is ticking
and the dawn is waiting for you to rise
and read all the letters you have been keeping
in your first dresser drawer on the right
But on Monday evening, you began to stop caring
and began throwing each paper aside
and have felt not a bit contrite or disheartened
since you decided you were your own woman last night*

Please don't burn me at the stake as a "cold-blooded murderer of the English tongue." Or as a fool.

electrosexual wrote:

---

Such happy poems :) Another one from my Year 7 period:

Snow is...
The icing on a wedding cake
A white blanket enveloping the land
Frozen water floating from the sky (no shit)
Sugar from the sugar shaker
A crushed pearl scattered
A white ribbon tied around a mountain top
A flowing wedding dress
A beautiful white rose
Icy coldness.

I wasn't very inspired by the task our teacher had set us obviously...

---

Ooo I like that poem  so simple yet beautiful!
I love writing poetry :) here's one of my latest ones;

Lover's Eternal Bridge
Together, we watch our meaningless tears fall
And through the empty tombs that were our hearts we crawl.
The end is near, the end is near
I have loved you like no other, my death inducing dear.
Free my hand then free my heart,
At the Lovers Eternal Bridge, is where we part.
On and on, like the cold merciless wind we must go,
The distance between us must do nothing but grow.

 

^Pretty!

I've been posting some on a video on Youtube called Creepy Music Box. Here's one:

A ghostly ballerina
Dancing in a moonlit wood
Limbs stiff with riggor mortis
And her hands awash with blood
Eyes devoid of the passion
That had once caressed her soul
Her spirit is nought but a shade
And her heart an empty hole
Oh, little ballerina,
What a pretty life youve led
But now you dance in graveyards
Lost amongst the creeping dead.

Lady Misery wrote:

---

^Pretty!

I've been posting some on a video on Youtube called Creepy Music Box. Here's one:

A ghostly ballerina
Dancing in a moonlit wood
Limbs stiff with riggor mortis
And her hands awash with blood
Eyes devoid of the passion
That had once caressed her soul
Her spirit is nought but a shade
And her heart an empty hole
Oh, little ballerina,
What a pretty life youve led
But now you dance in graveyards
Lost amongst the creeping dead.

---

That poem's haunting, but in a very good way! I like the imagery in it

This is called 'Flowers Seek the Truth'

My soul blooms,

And my soul falls.

Just like the flower.

The Sun, a mirage...

...a lie!

What I thought was happiness.

Made my soul wither

And die.

All was dark,

And all was silent.

I had no roots to hold me down,

And I was taken to a place

Where there was no hope...

No redemption.

But suddenly, the dark, dismal cover was lifted

And upon me, the truth shone;

I am something,

Alone or not.

My soul has bloomed

And will never fall.

Unlike the flower.

 

 

I wasn't sure whether to make a separate topic or not for this, but I decided not to as it's poetry related  how do I go about getting my poetry published? I'm at a bit of a dead end, you see.
Thanks!

wrote this awhile ago, was thinking about spring. ^_^

I gaze at the blue sky,
Watching cotton candy clouds drift,
As the sweet wind blows quietly.
Bluebells cover the field,
Creating a pond of lovely purple,
Different shades of green surround the pond.
The brilliant grass pokes me,
As I lay down and shut my eyes,
And listen to the sounds of spring.
Birds chirp beautifully,
Singing their love songs.
In the distance,
A creek babbles,
Flowing smoothly over pebbles and stones.
Squirrels chase playfully,
Jumping from tree to tree,
Causing fresh leaves to rustle.
Gleaming sunlight warms me,
While the wind tickles my skin.
Clean, crisp scents fill my nose,
The sweetest I've ever smelled.

I gave up writing poetry nearly three years ago, after I wrote my second poem. I can do prose, but poetry just ain't my thing. I wish I could write poems though. One of my friends is really good at them.

Anyway, the first serious poem I ever wrote was - oh, the cliché - based on a Crush. I don't get Crushes anymore. I would post it, but three of the lines actually make me cringe so much I might never be able to look any of you in the avatar again. (I'll do it one day, I promise...) Instead, I shall leave you with the haiku I wrote last night (yay for insomnia!) and just remembered:

At first, nothing, then
Something rears its ugly head.
Tell us what you see.

Okay. I'll shut up now. :)

I wrote this a few months ago when I was hopelessly infatuated with the most amazing girl. Unfortunately she was 100% straight. *sigh*

And Coltrane is a codename for her. I've done a whole series of poetry in this format, and each of the people I speak about have codenames that relate to either their names or their personalities or appearances. For instance, I have a friend with beautiful doe eyes, so hers is 'Bambi'.

Here it goes:

dear coltrane;

there is a flutter in my cage, and a seeping
of something golden that may be honey-or
perhaps even syrup-right down through the
twists and turns of my stomach cavity
whenever I think about you. your too blue
eyes and sweetly crooked teeth.
[taste that awkward laugh in my mouth]

Xx

p.s. you are beautiful, for your faults.