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Pages: 1

PenCapBlue
Mmmmbop

Registered: 08/17/05
Posts: 26

Poetry!

#6492277 - 01/24/07 11:15 AM (17 years, 2 months ago)

Like a kiss the eyes open again,
and the glassy white is painted with a
perfect blood red.

The scarred green,
the home in the mirror,
and the endless pupil.

And into the void I fall,
where black is black,
and scared lumps lurk.
Where there is a green sun overhead,
relentlessly shining and hiding.

Where you could curl in the eye of wonder
and feel the sun watch over you.

Like a kiss,
the eyes close.

----------------

I give up.
I drop it by the side of the road,
I leave it to waste.
The feeling that I’m at invisible war.
Fighting for peace of mind,
or even nothing at all,
and as I fill ideals,
I really don’t care.

I wish to lose or to win,
I don’t want to fight.
I drop it by the side of the road
and I’m on my way.
I want to find the old world new,
watch what I had fall away.

But I couldn’t leave it.
What I hold dear,
not for the world.

----------------------

I feel the world drone on about me.
Like slugs and wasps,
a parade of ants.
The grey life dulls my senses,
and I scream at the slow creep of life.
I know beyond the nest
must live a field of flowers,
nectar and sun, but I must be
nothing.

--------------

I feel like a bad cliché,
and pants to match.
Like the world is looking at me
out of the corner of it’s eye.
Like I am something I’m not.
Like I’m me,
and that just won’t do.

I walk the sloppy ground,
chin on shoulder,
and it doesn’t matter.
Like the life I live,
and cliché to match.

---------------------

I don't need a page filled to the brim,
a smiling girl at my arm,
a best friend,
or a bottle in my hand.

I don't need the sky to fall,
the world to spin,
my mind to grow.
I don't need test scores,
lawers, or brains.
I don't need pain
or happiness
I don't need showers
icecream
or candlelight.

I don't need the world
or anything in it.
I don't need my ego,
death
or birth.
I don't need ideals,
ideas,
or anything at all.

------------------

I draw a picture,
but not what I want to say.
Not what matters
or what’s really real.
Like reading between the lines,
or communication lost in the air.

The picture I drew,
with pen black as the void.
By process of elimination,
from the white,
specks of red and blue
in the sea of black,
watch what I didn’t draw.
Watch as nothing takes life,
floats above your head,
waiting for the air of defeat.

And the black page screams everything,
but an air of nothing floats about.

---------------------

My latest poetry. I'm almost wanting to pursue writing as a career. What do you guys think?

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