Commission for SaridimLike a crystal in the light,
i lose myself.
dull within the wooden box,
it loses its light as dust surrounds its smooth figure.
i remember the times i had with you,
the times that made you and i shine the most.
we played together.
and those memories are reflected...
upon the sides of this crystal.
the crystal of our memories.
the crystal of my heart.
within this wooden box,
at the back of my closet...
collecting dust as i cry myself to sleep.
SuicideSuicide12 years ago in Open More Like This
I'm so sick of suicide
It's everywhere I look
Pictures, and in movies
In poetry and books
I'm so sick of suicide
It's pathetic and it's weak
Blah blah blah so awful
Outlook always bleak
This life's just not worth living
Could they be any more cliché'?
I know that I just can't go on
Isn't that what they say?
Do you live in China
Without freedom's basic choice?
Are you a woman in Afghanistan?
Forbidden to have a voice.
Are you starving now in Africa?
Surrounded by disease
Or under corrupt dictatorship
Forced upon your knees
These people rise to challenges
We cannot comprehend
They live their lives from day to day
And triumph in the end
But daddy won't buy me the car
He promised me last fall
Oh what now am I to do?
I'll have to end it all.
My girlfriend found another
She loves him more than me
I'll bleed until I'm empty
Then she'll finally see.
I'm so sick of suicide.
HopeIn this world,Hope7 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
That one does see,
Thinking you will live
The truth does differ,
From what you hear,
Life is full of
Doubt and fear.
No hope for the people,
Living in rags,
For their bedding,
Others you see,
Have done the best they can,
Fate has been good,
It had a great plan.
Hope can be given,
To those who need it most,
Just a smile
Will be their first dose.
A DoubtThe butterflies in your stomach,A Doubt7 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
Flip over at the sight of him.
Walking towards you,
Happiness hurtling over the brim.
But then you notice the someone else,
Standing hand in hand, by his side.
Vaguely known to yourself,
From the background you have eyed.
Not a hope in hell,
He is too deeply in love.
No point in even praying,
To the guardian angels above.
When he leaves,
It tugs at the strings of your heart,
You dont want it to be the end,
If only it were the start.
He hugs you, a short,
Sweet, yet lingering embrace.
And as he turns to leave,
His footprints you do trace.
But there is a doubt to the love being displayed.
If you do what you want, she will be betrayed.
But many a night have you prayed.
It is a game between them that has been played.
It was never to be, what they had,
My doubt came true.
All the talking, all the messages,
It all finally came through.
A Violin's FaithA Violin's Faith6 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
alas, no man -
let alone a violin -
here I lie, deserted,
(Master's given up on me -
given me up to a dust devil
of a dissonant girl called
oh bitter irony Lynn)
unstrung and unwound,
violet bruises cruising
the seas of my some-
time smooth surfaces.
my innards, vital organs
behold my broken anima -
have fared no better fate.
an enema in my f-hole
would have been far
less filthy than the string
of curses and fickle f-words
I've tried to utter in the dark.
as the bridge between me
and reality breaks down
into a dystopia of abused
fingerboards and loose pegs,
I shall bid sanity farewell.
but not even deft dementia
can bid me forget that I
was once much more than
a violin lent to
a violent Lynn.
My LifeYou spend your time,My Life7 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
Standing and waiting,
For the end result.
From the age of infancy,
Until you become
As you will see,
Is not so easy.
Dreams can be swept away,
In just one day,
Patience begins to fray.
When it comes down to it,
What were we
Really waiting for?
These numbers and letters;
Your emotions raw.
Until I See Your EyesI search for the face,Until I See Your Eyes7 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
For the smile,
For the eyes.
Blind am I,
Until I retrieve,
What I yearn.
I need to find
I can learn.
Only you can help,
Mine are yours.
And I cant see
Until I see your eyes.
My eyelids, gently
Unfold, as you
Breeze into sight.
I know it is you.
That has given me light,
And off my heart flies.
AnarchyScream the anthem of the anarchist!Anarchy12 years ago in Open More Like This
What is it? Exactly.
I won't tell you; make it up.
Go away. Blow it up.
Burn it down. Deface the town.
But don't give in,
Never -- no.
That's the song we all love so.
Freedom past extremity.
Far away, in my backyard
I own the world; I am a bard.
I wear a beard and shave my head;
All the normals want me dead.
I won't give up; I ramble rave.
You'll never make me behave.
My brother, loser, freak, meek geek
You know-- the beatnick, hippy, punk--
The rock bands my parents debunk--
We treasure what we cannot have:
No allegiance to any flag.
Don't Pay The FerrymanI watch his next victim,Don't Pay The Ferryman8 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Boarding the boat,
Even if I screamed,
He wouldnt hear me.
His body has gone,
Its his soul he will lose next.
The grizzling clouds,
Were trying to warn him,
Stay on land,
You do not want to do this,
And I screamed
At the top of my voice;
Dont pay the ferryman,
Dont even fix a price.
Dont pay the ferryman,
Until he gets you to the other side.
The jingling of his coins,
Brought out from his pocket.
He must not pay him,
Under the devils control,
Another voice came from behind,
Whatever you do;
Dont pay the ferryman,
Dont even fix a price.
Dont pay the ferryman,
Until he gets you to the other side.
But a dead man,
Cannot be told the rules,
Ruled by the devil,
Under his thumb.
Never to reach the other side.
the god memorandumthe god memorandum11 years ago in Open More Like This
I hear your cry.
It passes through the darkness, filters through the clouds, mingles with starlight, and finds its way to my heart on the path of a sunbeam.
I have anguished over the cry of a hare choked in the noose of a snare, a sparrow tumbled from the nest of its mother, a child thrashing helplessly in a pond, and a son shredding his blood on a cross.
Know that I hear you, also. Be at peace. Be calm.
I bring thee relief for your sorrow for I know its cause ... and its cure.
You weep for all your childhood dreams that have vanished with the years.
You weep for all your self-esteem that has been corrupted by failure.
You weep for all your potential that has been bartered for security.
You weep for all your talent that has been wasted through misuse.
You look upon yourself with disgrace and you turn in terror from the image you see in the pool. Who is this mockery of humanity staring back at you with bloodless eyes of shame?
Perspectives of a Hallucino...Comfort. The softness of the basement couch. Misery loves company.Perspectives of a Hallucino...8 years ago in Open More Like This
Trickling through my fingers. Whispering across my face, her disappearing
lips trace across my cheeks. The smell is sweet, but she is rough against
my throat. Her smell isn't so much intoxicating as it is suffocating, yet
the smoke paralyses my senses and touches my soul. Her street name is
undeserving of her effect on me. Forever, she shall be known to me as
Mary-Jane. I will never know her beauty.
The DarknessDarkness is my comfort.The Darkness9 years ago in Open More Like This
It protects me from my fears,
Hides me from them.
In the dark I can watch the light,
Without the light watching me.
The darkness understands me,
It does not judge me;
In the dark we all look the same.
It wards off those who fear the dark;
The ones that seek to harm me.
Darkness is my only ally,
In the war I fight alone;
The war in my head.
ReminderThe names of signs that pass me by,Reminder7 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
At the ends of the streets.
The colour of guys hair,
When I know
Who I really want to meet.
Pictures cropping up on the web,
Having a joke, having fun.
Youre in the net,
Whilst Im outside,
I want to believe
That youve got something to hide.
All that I had
Is in a blender,
Not even poetry
What I want to say.
The Truth to LifeDo we have a purpose, is a question one will often askThe Truth to Life11 years ago in Open More Like This
Is there a higher power out there, some greater task
The truth will hurt many, not only a few
People have a hard time dealing with that which is true
There is nothing greater that watches your back
Deal with it, stop crying and build your own stack
You are responsible for the life that you lead
It is not someone else's fault when you don't get what you need
If one wants the stars, they must be grabbed by one's own hand
Nothing in life is freely given there is no promised land
So the question remains, why are we here
For those without faith, the answer is painfully clear
We live only for today and if we are lucky the morrow
To us there is no afterlife, but that brings us no sorrow
Self improvement is our main goal and it starts in the here and now
We refuse to be filled with illusions of grandeur and get fat off them like a cow
The best of us seek improvement in every area we can
Without the proper balance of self there can be no co
Isnt it funnyIsnt it funny that when you go to the shops with your friends you look down at the girl with black jeans and studs but smile at the girl wearing a a mini with a tshirt that barely cover anything?Isnt it funny8 years ago in Other More Like This
Isnt it funny you can change your music taste to impress a guy but when it comes to a girl who likes her own music and her own style, you give her a mouthful?
ISNT IT FUNNY that a guy can get away with being a gangsta but the emo gets a mouthful from everyone
are you laughing?
Isnt it funny a emo can be quiet all through the week but gets more shit from everyone than the girl who sleeps around and sells her virginity?
ISNT IT FUNNY that you dont mind your friends drinking, smoking but the minute someone mentions emo music you can give them a lecture on melodramatic teenage outcasts?
im not laughing.
ITS SO FUNNY that you and your friends can make a girls life hell and not know anything about the silent battle she might be fighting.
ISNT IT FUNNY that you can call emos, punks, goths the retards
Incursiune in AbsolutIncursiune in Absolut7 years ago in Open More Like This
Iarta-mi scurta incursiune in absolut
Asta daca mai tii minte cum ne-am cunoscut
Absolut. Irelevant si ireversibil.
Totusi, absolut. Incredibil.
Absolut. Toate mor.
Minte. Pierduta in absolut.
Absolut. Sincer, n-am crezut.
Absolut. Sublim pericol.
Ne prefacem. Intorsi in absolut.
Absolut. Asa a inceput.
Absolut irelevant si ireversibil.
Totusi absolut incredibil.
Absolut toate mor.
Minte pierduta in absolut.
Absolut, sincer n-am crezut.
Absolut sublim pericol.
Ne prefacem intorsi in absolut.
Absolut lipsit de-nceput.
Tommy 1337Dahl, your death was a tragedy,Tommy 13377 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
But I'm almost glad you didn't see
The rising of the new way to
Make your kids' minds melt into goo.
I talk, of course, lest we forget
Of the abhorrent INTERNET.
None of us could contain our joy
When this delightful little toy
Made little Tommy shut his trap
(Much quicker than a lunchtime nap)
And seemed, at first, to educate
Rather than brain-assimilate.
But years rolled on and our new friend
Became the source of ghastly trends
And Tommy, now at age thirteen,
Became rather absurdly keen
On women half cat, with huge breasts,
And arguments on which was best:
The Potter books or sparkly guys
(Those weird gay vampires in disguise).
The vulgar porn and RP games
All make TV look rather tame.
Over 9,000 pedo-cocks,
And fan girls milling 'round in flocks,
Dramatica and DeviantArt
Will slowly blacken any heart
And dull your eyes, and dull your brain
Until you'll never speak again
Save in a strained and beastly growl
As we eliminate the vowel.
OpenIf I opened my heart just like a book,Open7 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
how would you see me? Would you even still look?
Would you push me away and pretend I'm not there?
Would the honest me be just too much to bear?
If I threw away caution, let it fly in the wind.
Told you my secrets let all of you in.
Would you still look at me kindly, even still care?
Would you hold my hand gently and still be there?
If I looked at you with anger and sadness or fear,
with you, knowing the reasons, still lend an ear?
If I was to cry and fall down on my face,
would you lie and say nicely it was done with some grace?
With all of my faults laid out to see,
could you accept them and love them honestly?
The price you would pay seeing me under the light,
all the imperfection's and scars no more out of sight.
If you knew me, all of me, open and whole,
would you still say you love me, with all of your soul?
Would you look at me, the same as you do,
when you think that you know me,
when I know that's not true.
The peaceful warriorWe train so we won't have to fight,The peaceful warrior9 years ago in Open More Like This
we are martial artists. To hone these skills developed over thousands of years,
our mind is clear. We strive not to fall victim to society's pressures,
to stand as an individual, and not to take life too lightly.
Everyday is a day to strive for better. It takes decades to master the techniques
handed down through hundreds of years. The tradition and philosophy is kept intact,
the knowledge of peace and persuaion.
To defend ourselves and others, we sharpen our deadliest weapon---the mind.
The mind, body and spirit must be forged like the mighty katana.
The steel, heated and hammered. Again, and again. Each time rolling the fiery metal,
softened and beaten, rolled in towards itself, and hammered down.
Like the blade, we too must be hammered repeatedly in the dojo. And in life, we must take
the blows without retaliation. Turning the other cheek, biting our tounge.
This is how you grow strong. The humble katana. And like the katana, we look
IdentityIdentity12 years ago in Open More Like This
He smiles at himself,
Effortlessly permitting the fragile mirror that faces
Him to echo each one of his vindictive motions.
Both of him laugh.
Which one is real?
Yet what is real?
Is the reflection of the man not just as real as the original?
The second man moves,
He too, has millions of organs working in innate cooperation
To produce a living, impeccable human being.
He only differs by the chains which bind him to his glass prison,
And by strings, which the first man has only to pull
In order to make the second move,
He is a slave, doomed forever to aspire to become the master,
Copying every motion until the master cannot be seen,
And how do we know,
That our reflections have not grabbed hold of us?
Can it be that we are merely the mirror image,
Struggling in a world that seems all too real,
Our strings silently pulled by puppeteers who smile
As they gaze at the product of their sweat?
And if so,
Are you less true than the one whom you are reflecting?
Do you fe
agnostic manifestoFor how disappointing it would be toagnostic manifesto11 years ago in Open More Like This
Discern that the light at the end of the tunnel,
is just the sun reflecting off of a dead-end sign.
PhilosophyWhat is philosophy? To philosophize is to not think about something, but to think upon those thoughts. You are to go beyond thinking, a thought beyond the thought. To think, you are to walk upon the ground, and observe it. To philosophize is to get upon your knees, and to DIG into the ground! You are to take your thoughts even further than your thoughts already. But I have heard that to philosophize is a gift. But why? Why cannot everyone take a deeper meaning into the thoughts and think upon thoughts? To dig into them? Is it the "strength" of the mind? For the one unable to philosophize, they are unable to dig their fingers into the ground. But then are we to say that those whom cannot philosophize weak minded? I don't think so. That's not right to say one is weak. But what is it that makes one unable to take a deeper meaning into their thoughts? Is it the mental comprehension? Can one only understand to a certain point? But does that mean philosophizers minds are to be unbound to comPhilosophy8 years ago in Open More Like This
The Relationship...."Times like these. Someone is writing and we are only words."The Relationship....10 years ago in Open More Like This
a small tree
there you were beneath it and lifting one arm up,
throwing one arm back,
in a Venetian garden (I think;
the details are unclear now, muted nouns)
and reaching for it, stretching and reaching,
while the strangest nakedness bathed your body, softened by sunlight.
if only I could paint you as you are
in my deepest of dreams,
with sour citrus fruits.
a medieval invention
plotted the course of our stars today; jokingly,
we listen to the fortune teller who says
'You were alchemists in a life past,
but I do not know if you were lovers
as she plotted the course of your hand,
the lines drawn zodiacally
to determine the altitude of the sun.
an apple-green chalcedony
lay there imagined in the hollow of your neck
where collar-bone met collar-bone,
the smooth white and the gemstone like a bee
IsolationInundated; Ever longingIsolation6 years ago in Open More Like This
For these shores to recede.
Waiting ever so patiently
For the slightest whisper; a touch.
So weary I grow, so jaded
Of the silent ocean breeze.
Monologue"I could tell you that I do this because I'm insane, because God is in my head, because I go about my business with a thousand avenging angels conducting a symphony of holy amorality, directing my every move. Because organized crime killed my father, raped my mother, and tortured my sister, and that they had all this coming to them. That I do this because I like it; because I like to kill, and that I'm no more alive than when I stand there looking down on them, willing the light to go out of their life, staring down at their eyes so that I can watch--so that I can feel them die. Because I revel in it. Because I'm lost. Because I wasn't breast-fed or because society wouldn't have me or that I was abused, scorned and hated. That life was cruel and God disowned me.Monologue10 years ago in Scripts & Screenplays More Like This
That I never watched a violent movie in my life and that my parents protected me and nurtured me too much, and when I saw
Bambi's mom get murdered in cold blood, it unhinged my mind. That Disney walked away with my soul and tha