Laebedah's Poetry
Inspired by Sun Sparkz's generosity, I've decided to share some poems I've written. I've lost a lot of the ones I've written in the past, unfortunately. Some are dark, most are simple, some are short, and some are off the wall.
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Torn Again
I am torn
Torn between who I need to love and between who I want to love I am unable to win Emotion trickles from my skin dousing all those who stand in my way. Turn the tap off, they might say! Ha, as if it is easy! The attempt is not measely. But I must try I must to protect those I care for even though I wish for more even though I am so torn. Again. |
Pain?
Not knowing someone
yet becoming so attached ruins my heart my spirit. The pain is foolish; why does it hurt so? I barely knew her yet she showed earnest interest. Will things ever change? Will life get better? Of course I know it will but for now, this the pain is what I feel. And for now, that pain is eternity. |
There She Goes
I only see her in passing
a small wave here a half smile there but I can tell she does not mean it. She wants nothing between us not a relationship, not a friendship not even to know who I am. I know I cannot have her in any way. I try to forget her but she burns in my mind, a candle refusing to be extinguished. The tears from my eyes do not put out the fire but simply cause it to burn brighter. But still I dwell on what I could have done different what went wrong, where I went wrong. Why I am so wrong. |
Cold and Broken
In the mind of one who suffers
a spec of life, a change of direction can alter that who surely is bold. Is it I who suffer? No, no… It is a girl, a woman of love and desire, with a mate who is not of the same qualites. He is cold, lifeless, consumed by comfort and gluttony. Will she vacate? Will she walk from a life of uncertainy, pain, and unhappiness? The one who loves her is not sure, he is confused, worried. Anger seeps from the wounds of anger, trickling from a branched stream of a massive river. But fear not! Massive blocks of rock protude proudly, fearless of their surroundings to bar the unsought free flowing agony. The mate is of ice within his veins, the walls are in place. What will happen now? |
Burning Sky of Two Times
Bellowed, hear of the dark night
grasping the blinking might. Go ahead and try a flight or die among lonely the fight. Burn the fire of the horror horror of the sky. There they be try as they might. The fire golden burning bright. Horror come not ’till night when you die among the lonely, the fight. Petaled rose, willowed trace try the pose, shake the face. Kill the night, live the day. Horror no more till it’s torn of the night death among the lonely, the fight. Drawn back between the time and they speak, “fine, just fine.” |
Sunlit Night
Upon the sun
the moon has shown a side never seen Its wrath Its hate has blocked the light a cast of its silhouette Oh, yes, the sun, wait! it can retaliate! Its pride Its warmth has blocked the night a glimpse of days to come. And remained the water, untouched the people, untouched yet no more the moon will see. For there has come and gone this eclipse once again. |
Yin and yang
On the willowed rose I pace
darkness fading, never haste. Face the terror, scream the name. Look and ponder, ne’er the same. Darkness is grave Terror banished. The sun has won And the moon, none. But Wait! Scream the name Sun Sun Sun! Fire the eyes of tonight or stay the same. Or stay insane And burn the bright darkness the sun Moon Moon Moon! Light nor dark exists and still it is insane. No haste, no terror scream no more. And Die. |
The Holy Flies
The Holy Flies
they are a-speaking tell me, “die die!” “Get off this mortal coil!” And me, I stop the leaking. Remind me of the white fires when they once danced across; into the opening, the void of today, I will travel ‘cross the white fires And into the night. My journey has come to an end the life of free-flowing nature, undead Break the cycle! Sequence no more! And Fade. The Holy Flies are dead. The leaking continues still. I did not stop it. And in my hand I hold their instrument of death: A flyswatter. |
yin and yang was brilliant, i read that one more than once. well done and keep it up, youv'e inspired me to post some more :)
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Thanks Sun Sparkz. I think I wrote Yin and Yang when I was either 17 or 18. It didn't have a title back then. I later decided on "Yin and Yang" as the title because the sun and the moon must both exist, otherwise balance would not be.
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Quote:
I like them all, but "There She Goes" and especially "Cold and Broken" blow my skirt way up. :thumb: PS- I think there's a mistake in the 10th line of "Cold and Broken". |
Corrected. Thanks Bruce.
"Blow your skirt up" - I don't understand the metaphor. Care to elaborate? |
In 1955 there was a movie called "The Seven Year Itch", in which Marilyn Monroe enjoyed standing over a ventilation grate for the subway. When a subway train would pass through, it would cause a great rush of air to blow up her skirt and her skirt up. She loved it and the men loved to watch it. :love:
Hence the expression "Whatever blows your skirt up" meaning whatever you enjoy or makes you happy. |
Wow I'll have to watch that.
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