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PerksOfAWallflower

poetry anyone???

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Idealize

countless thoughts and emotions tend to linger

For

The difference of life and death lies within ones finger

You see Life and death waltz hand by hand

And

How your love can be such a common and beautiful demand

Oh how fragile memories tend to be

Like songs and poems the thoughts deliver harmony

Your heart seems to ache all through the night

Because the person you loved left without a sight

You stand there all naked and exposed

Emotionally undressed from your head to your toes

How can this be? Oh, why is this so.

Why did they leave me, oh why did they go?

The touch of their hand

and

The smile on their face

brought simple pleasures and happiness

Upon your lonesome face

Morbid thoughts send unwanted tears

Tears of fear and sadness of hopes and pleads

To

Forget your needs, and to hold on tight

For when the day comes it most certainly won’t come light

Your heart unwillingly feels forever broken

Only to be mended by soft words to be spoken

Lifted from this earth, no! stolen away

Knowing you’ll never see their face again, sadly enough,

ends your day in the up most unimaginable way

day by day

And

night by night

You’ve yearned for that freedom filled flight

Getting away from it all

Seems just like a dream

But a selfish suicide is simply unseen

and you cease to act on a few simple notes

It’s the love of life that has you afloat

Simple thoughts and memories

Lengthen your days dramatically

It’s the hopes and dreams one most have

To fully remember the love they once had

Oh please wait the shows not over

The curtains wont close, oh no, its not over

You see you have got to realize

Loving again is what you should idealize

Something was taken, taken away

Something you’ve loved and will love to this very day

Blaming your self is just plain wrong

Blaming yourself feeds your life a sad, sad song

The curtains are closing and the shows almost over

Please leave this place

with your head on your shoulders

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Okay I'm really not a poet, but this kind of just is popping out as I'm typing.

I see her, with him

I pretend to care

I pretend to act that I ever wanted her

I pretend that it's hard

But in truth?

I feel nothing

How could I?

I understand why I should

Her hair, so still

Her eyes, a well of emotions

Bubbling, underneath the surface

But I see only a bauble

Two shapes of unknown colour

A shallow depth

Yet I go on

I keep pretending

I must make people think that I feel

Something, anything

Lest they find out the truth

That I simply

can't

feel

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okay, so i wrote this song just now. i usually write a melody and the words just come up like sick, but lately i've been coming up with melodies and when i try to write the lyrics they are so forced. anyways these came out so easily, it was nice to be back in the game Wink

so this isn't really a song, but it will be on youtube when the kinks are woked out.

belle

Ages before you wre born your mother and I were but children.

We sang folk songs of beer and loose women.

We laughed on the antics of Voltaire and she even smoked cigars when prompted.

Blue waves, those days held sorrow with much more strength

lonely old, lowly old man, last one to stand, first to fall.

The crows cawed at her beauty while dancing in the crops swaying like barley or better.

I loved in a way that words can't implore, because love doesn't touch it, i feel it was more.

And that cold winter when belle was born, when the warriors of frost froze my love to the core.

Blue waves, those days held sorrow with much more strength

lonely old, lowly old man, last one to stand, first to fall.

Seven days of battle felt like a hundred years of war, as the night brought solace, she fought on no more.

And still when the sun hits its high in the day, I recall how your mother stood stead-fast and swayed.

Your hair shines so simply the color of hay

I know only god's spite would've take her away.

Blue waves, those days held sorrow with much more strength

lonely old, lowly old man, last one to stand, first to fall, first to fall.

~ perks.

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I enjoyed reading that Perks, it was pretty intense and much heavier then my poetic efforts, which tend more toward a Limerick Style with a Funny Punchline! Smiler

I have probably posted my latest poem, elsewhere on here, but you can never have too much of a good thing & tonight I am taking this Forum over, as I can't sleep because my cough has returned, after Salsa Dancing Tuesday Night away with the likes of Patsy Palmer! Big Grin

THE PERFECT TEN

LittleVoice was a perfectionist, constantly seeking the 'Perfect Ten',

That is not a very unusual trait, it occurs with many Men.

Sadly LV was a little Strange,

No matter how hard he tried to Change.

In Life he achieved many a 'ten', whilst in Love he struggled for Perfect Zen.

His Jams were superb, his Blackberry Crumble mighty Fine,

His photography and poetry would very often Shine.

The Bedroom was a different Story,

His Malady ruined any chance of Glory.

Trying too hard, his cough went over the line, forcing his lover to Decline.

The Moral of this sad tale, you just cannot Deny

'Pobody’s Nerfect', no matter how hard they Try.

Alphabetically speaking, when he went to Bed

LittleVoice often, sadly, scored a Perfect 'Z'

No wonder he often heaved a sigh, with many a desperate 'Please help me' Cry.

Never you fear, LittleVoice will never, ever give up the Battle,

From his earliest years, he recalls his Old Ma’s Tittle-Tattle.

'Never say your Mother bred a Jibber,

Always tell the truth, don’t be a Fibber!'

So when he’s fit & well again, LV will surely make the bedroom windows Rattle! Roll Eyes

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such talent we have here!

A Passive Revolution

Eyes, open and dry

Ethereal but austere

blank

Wrinkles scattered and smeared

from lid to lobe, they clinch

Separate from anything

Separated from anything and everything

Orchestrating a condensed stare

Condensed to next to nothing, empty

But everything feels empty

Everything feels nothing

Hidden, shrouded sins

behind the open, dry eyes

Torrid and torn

thought to be a sublime oblivion

She's free. Hear now, she is free!

Oh, the mind of the idle,

is one to be made idle.

[i've got a thing for learning new words]

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I've read these poems, they're fine! Goddamn!

Why haven't I posted in this thread?

My poems and lyrics, they ain't so bad

But if it's poems, well most are Dutch

and here's Americans and Hispanics and such

So they'd have to google for translation guides

Or ask me to shed a light

On words so foreign to most of them

like my absurd masterpiece I here recite

In original speech, for it won't be right

To translate into another tongue

That would only spoil this song.

featuring many Dutch politicians as characters...

SCHANDAAL!

Er is niks leukers dan vreemdgaande presidenten

"Dat copuleert maar van onze centen!"

Zal het verbolgen volk dan zeggen

En die arme man moet dan op televisie

alles uit gaan leggen.

Onze premier moet ook maar eens meedoen

Ja JP moet een schandaal

En niet vallen met een skateboard

Dat is zo provinciaal

Nee, hij moet met Miriam Sterk aan de haal

In de achterkamertjes

Het hoeft niet persé met een sigaar

En een trio met de stagiare

Dat is ook een beetje raar

Misschien iets met S&M waar foto's van

Blijken te zijn gemaakt

Dan wordt de politiek goed overhoop gehaald

En de journalistiek ontwaakt

Wat een circus zal het zijn

Wat een festijn!

En Maxime Verhagen spuit zijn venijn

'Dat kan toch niet zijn?

Dat kán toch niet zíjn?!'

Zegt de politicus verontwaardigd

'Dat is onze premier toch niet waardig?

En van mevrouw Sterk vind ik het ook zeer onaardig

Het secreet

De Fractievoorzitter gaat voor

't is dat ze het maar weet'

En alles komt op Hart van Nederland

En bij Pauw en Witteman

En dan schudden JP en Max elkaar de hand

En Bianca kust Miriam op elke wang

En Miriam vise versa.

MAAR!

Bisschop Simonis schopt stampij

En Bas van der Vlies staat hem bij

Samen met Rouvoet, Marijnissen

En de Boer op een rij

Ze grijpen Miriams hoofd en duwen haar opzij

Met haar gelaat in de brij

(Daar neergezet door Rita Verdonk

En die vreselijk stonk).

En de elite morde

Dat ging echt veel te ver

Ze hakten de rij in stukjes

Om te verspreiden

Her en der

En alles werd weer rustig

Zo erg was het toch niet? of wel?

'Het had niks te maken met het politieke spel!'

Zeiden Jan-Peter en Miriam fel

'We zaten lekker in ons vel

maar nu is ons leven een hel,

dat snapt u toch wel?'

en ja,

Daar was alles wel mee gezegd

Al was er nog helemaal niks mee uitgelegd

Dat hoeft ook niet, 't was puur privé

Dat premier Balkenende wel eens elders vree.

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In Comparison

The images surround me. Like Greek statues, they are perfect,

And they make me seem a shadow, barely human, and I expect

They were put here just to taunt me, make me grasp at what I can’t be,

Put a mirror up to nature. I lament at what is not me

And linger on potential and the sign-posted mistakes

That brought me to this moment: errors only a fool makes,

Like mines I stumbled onto with my careless, clumsy feet,

While everyone around me trod through on paths like straight streets.

“Watch them, ugly duckling, watch the sleek, smooth swans,

Paddling their dainty feet through flawless, sparkling ponds…

And what a shame you’re still struggling through the marshland,

Longing to be them, well, let me take your hand,

And whisper the truth to you: it’s just your stupid luck

That you are not a cygnet. You’ll become an ugly duck,

And stay here in the swamp where you belong,

I’m telling you the fairytale is wrong.”

I say it to myself all the time. Still it won’t sink in

That I am never going to change and no amount of blinking

Will change the facts that sit before my eyes:

The only thing that dirt attracts is flies.

So show me beauty and I’ll train myself not to care,

Shrug my shoulders in time with the flicking of smooth hair,

I’d display a better facet, show my good side if I had one,

But they’re all perfect and I’m nothing in comparison.

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I wrote this dumb poem cause i had a final the next day and was studying for it here it goes :

Textbook (un)love

Stale taste, Stale taste

In my head,

Above the eyes

and in my mind

this textbook

with textbooked words

cantains no soul, but to hold

only pale words

pale in comparison to epic tales

only information

information that rots the brain

only reading

just in caste it gets better

PLEASe!

shake that taste from my tounge

sipping my own cup of tea, PLEASe!

clean this pallet with bitter

leaving a treat of lingering sweet

deep within my throat

Sipping this cup of tea

which happens to be

A tale of two worlds

One's a textbook

One's a story

Which world will i choose?

The stale one only because

tommorrow is my final day

Lol i just realized that im about to take a midterm at 11 , i guess im only writing this again to avoid studying again. oh how i hate midterms week.. at least this is my last one and i dont have to work tommorow! my boss is taking off work for vietnamese newyears!! Happy vietnamese new years guys!

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