Even more Poetry

So I’ve typed up more of my old poetry and now I’m sitting here wondering what in the world was I thinking when I was a teenager?  Was that really me writing all of this stuff?  Wow.  I think that this will be all for now.  We’ll see if I decide to share more later on or another day.

Okay, what I was really thinking was “What the fuck was in my head back then?”  That’s a really good question.  I don’t know.  I don’t remember, but some of this stuff comes across as pretty dark.  Maybe it was just me being creative?  I honestly have no idea.

Free Verse

Darkness,
A way not only of no light,
but hiding, obscure.

Confusion,
not only from simple things,
but love, of darkness and light.

Longing
for a way to escape
the tortures of life, love, and harsh liberty.

Brightness,
needing to cast its holy rays
upon a troubled soul

With only poetry to lighten the path.

(July 27,1 995)

Life

desire to love,
passions broken, hollow,
pain, deaf light.

young frightened whispers
fly off, dulled,
time, cut and mended.

magic moons, golden mist,
this and that
a friend’s soft touch.

stagnant smells, shattered stones,
fear of flesh.
heart’s call? screams of foolish eyes.

Frustration

broken hearts,
passions in want,
love, pain, hurt,
tunnels of frightened hearts.

Obsession

whispered breaths,
desire to touch moons and stars,
soft, young calls of hearts,
flesh, sighs, wants.

Repulsion

moments of light,
rough and cold,
cryptic screams,
stagnant smells.

(June 28, 1995)

Hate

screaming whispers,
frightened hearts,
broken passions
pain, love, shattered desires.

Beauty

soft touches,
jaded moons,
bright eyes,
moments, magic, time’s desires.

Life

morbid passions have desires,
foolish eyes tough hollow flesh,
fear, hot and screaming.

full moons, hard light,
dull, broke, soft and tight,
sleepy eyes steal sighs.

frightened moments,
mist of desire have
friends, enemies, rotted and wrecked.

(June 29, 1995)

Dreaming

I had a dream once,
a dream that seemed so far away.
So, now I sit and think
of happenings every day.

My little dream was a simple one,
understand that’s the way I am.
I’ve now started to think
that maybe I still can,

find the one true person,
the one who IS true,
a girl with a smart head
and eyes that run blue.

It’s not that hard to wondering
if my dreams will do
what no other dream has done,
or what I could do for you.

I wanted to love you,
but you turned away.
Now, I sit and think of you
every single day.

(May 30, 1995)

Lying there bleeding

lying there bleeding,
blood pouring from his eyes.
I found myself leading
straight upon his lies.

He told me of his life,
one so gutted and cold.
He murdered his wife,
pigs never were told.

He thought of his past,
not really wanting to die.
His next breath was his last,
and told he, no more lies.

Now justice is served,
his head upon a platter.
His neck has been carved,
it went down with a splatter.

Now this is a tale
of a man with no will.
He was out on bail
and ready to kill.

Six feet beneath
the topsoil is he.
A grave below wreaths
and the buzzing of bees.

(September 9, 1996) WTF?!?!

Swollen Emotions

pain, swollen emotions
and hatred!
questions lingering,
love everlasting?
unbeknownst, uncontrollable
fears!
why?
seemingly desirable,
yet, evil and dark.
possibilities of,
but… no.
absurd abruptness,
beginning, ending,
lovely myths.
could be so insane, as if a nymph.

(September 9, 1996)

After the rain

crystalline shards
shattering on grass-
first one, then more,
torrents til last.

drip drop, drip drop.

canons fire,
clouds explode-
here, now there,
hell’s own abode.

drip drop, drip drop.

demon’s breath,
winds do howl-
roaring first,
quietness now.

drip drop, drip drop.

what? light,
clouds with holes-
sunny spears
fight away the cold.

drip drop, drip drop.

out of colors,
east to west-
amazing, beautiful,
still there’s left…

drip drop, drip drop.

(September 18, 1996)

Mystical nights

crickets chirping,
unseen wings flap.
creatures of day
fall prey to a nap.
mice scurrying,
moths in flight-
an owl takes wings
to rule the night.
snakes slithering,
a cat’s mewing cry-
a night of beginning,
a night to die.
undead awaken,
master’s call-
wolves wail,
a vampire’s pall.
dawn aries,
creatures retreat-
day rejoices
night’s defeat.

(September 18, 1996)

 

Wow.  Seriously.  What was going through my head?

2 Replies to “Even more Poetry”

  1. Truly, a time of teenage turmoil? Poetry is the perfect way to express or release emotions in an abstract way, and yours is poignant, likely bringing most of us back to a certain situation in our own lives.

  2. The crazy thing is that I honestly can’t remember feeling so friggin down that I would write some of these. Maybe it was just my imagination going off on its own. Then again, I found a sheet of notebook paper with relatively similar dark thoughts written down. It’s rather spooky!

    Also, what teenager really understands love? Hell, what adult truly has an understanding of it?

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