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poetry anyone???

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Big Grin

When I'm Alone

Thoughts collide and stumble into complications,

weaving tangled and unsolvable webs

My worlds meet; physical, mental, emotional, spiritual

...and release as one

Faded secrets and memories of my unique past fall forward

into the brightness of this contained, enclosed space

Tears strive to reach the floor with welt up emotions

only to be swept away with the swift stroke of a hand

The steps of my soul present themselves front and center,

clear and spontaneous

and ignite with the quintessence of passion

Beats and changing rhythms ricochet off every corner encountered

but each beat is absorbed by every inch of me

Dreams pierce my imagination and the creativity in sleep

rattles my brain

only to be vague in consciousness

I'm released from the days judgmental stares,

stares and faint whispers from the unknowing,

unaware of thoughts and words behind closed doors,

closed eyes

It's freedom magnified ten times over

to be stronger

to be smarter

to be who I hope one day I can be outside those doors,

one day when they open forever

when people just become the stuffed animals on my floor,

the books on my shelves, the reflection in my mirror

When I'm free from my own judgmental eyes,

eyes that still judge my very own reflection

Only I have the key to unlock these chains and escape forever

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I hunger for sundown

So I can slip into sleep

And settle in the bossom

Of my subconscious lake

Dusk paints the sky

Erasing all smudges

Washing it clean

With the disc of the moon

The sun unforgiving

All seeing all knowing

Surrenders to his brothers

Who spend all their time wishing

I ache for the voice

which is only an echo

I am starved of the face

that remains only a shadow

I dream to remember

To forget and let go

But the sun always rises

And awakes me from life

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Oh cool I didn't know this existed! You stixers amaze me.

So I have this one poem I like and am proud of and like to show people, because I don't usually like the things I write especially when it comes to poetry.

I shall post it here. Some may recognize the last line from my signature a while ago. (If you are so attentive to such details)

Do you remember the stars of summer?

After a long night of aimless wanderings and drug abused dreams

Do you remember how they shone?

The sky of an empty night running out of time,

We would lie for hours,


As we lay on that hard park bench,

and the stars carved your name into my sleepless, bloodshot eyes.

Do you remember that low slung moon?

Glowing red, Burning in the sky.

We thought the world might end,

just for us.

It was all so close that you thought you could reach it,

If only you could stand,

But our limbs were too numb to move,

And my head was too heavy on your slowly quaking chest.

We reached up from where we lay, hands entwined

Our fingertips stroked the slowly rising sky

Leaving trails of fingerprints to be seen from space.

We were so small and so far away.

The bench was so hard,

The sky was so soft.

And we couldn't help,

But fall


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Your smooth, bitter skin.

Your hard, stone heart.

Who could reach you in the saftey of your boughs?

Who could find your sweetness?

I could.

I found you in your boughs,

hiding among the leaves.

I found your sweet and tender flesh

beneath your smooth, bitter skin.

I tossed aside your hard, stone heart

and you didn't resist.

Yours is my favorite flesh.

Sweet and mild, I prefer yours to every other.

The others I have eaten meerly to survive,

and I tasted them not.

I would pass my hand over twenty-thousand

for only one of you.

But I know it cannot last.

Your sweetness comes not from the time I have with you,

but from the time I have without you.

It is not you I love.

It is the ache I feel for you.

To peel away your smooth, bitter skin.

To cut around your hard, stone heart.

To await the taste

of your sweet and tender flesh.

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It is not you I love.

It is the ache I feel for you.

I have felt that before. The whole poem is really amazing!

Such talented stixers! I genuinely really love all the poems on this thread! Smiler

The Crying Clouds

I look up into the heavens

The clouds torn and scattered

The breeze sweeps them roughly aside

Twisting them into shapes I try my hardest to recognise

Leaving them bruised...broken....

They begin to cry.

Their tears fall heavy on me

Cleansing my sorrows with their own

The ground grows soft and damp beneath my feet

I start to leave, but the clouds begin to scream

A flash of anger illuminating the sky.

I stand rooted to the spot, terrified.

They are weeping now, sobbing.

I have no words to comfort them,

No lullabies to make them sleep.

And I am left helpless,

Deafened by the screams

Shivering from the sighs

Drenched by the tears that are too many to dry.

I was thinking about entering some poetry competitions because I've written a lot over the summer, but I'm kinda scared, can I have your hoonest opinions about this poem, and if you think I could make any improvements or anything? thanks guys! Smiler

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I think you should definately enter some poetry competitions. Your work is very good. I really like your style and the way you see things from a different perspective. Crying clouds is a winner.

Some more words arranged by me:

In your own way

You loved me too much

To let me fail

I never followed your advice

I had to find my own way

I had to fail in my own way

I had to learn the hard way

In my own way

I loved you too much

To be a failure in your eyes

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So I want to kill this waitress

She’s worked here a year longer than I

If I did it fast you know that’s an act of kindness

But I believe in peace

I believe in peace, bitch

I believe in peace

I want to kill this waitress

I can’t believe this violence in mind

and is her power

all in a club sandwich

But I believe in peace

I believe in peace, bitch

I believe in peace

I want to kill this killing wish

There’re too many stars and not enough sky

Boys all think she’s living kindness

Ask a fellow waitress

Ask a fellow waitress

Lyrics by Tori Amos

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This is a poem i wrote a few weeks ago:


Your mouth releases air,

Even though you've just taken it in,

Your feet are recovering,

But proportioned in the wrong,

There growing in,

Instead of out,

A daily dose of 'unconformatism',

I'm not one but two steps ahead.

And the breadcrumbs patterned along,

On a wild chase,

But no geese can be found,

And the artificial breadcrumbs have not stopped Leading me,

My eyes are sewn in their wheat necessity,

But the bird eats the very last one,

My exploration venture has left me alone,

Where do I go? Who am I?

The walls are caged in eye colour,

Sealed with fate and chance,

Except my dice is end-uh-end-uh-lice,

It ro-o-ol-o-ols for miles

Straight forward to Potsdam

The orginal yet silent venice,

Fortune tellers are so lazy,

They read the backs of magazines,

Miss madame Bru'large looked at my face,

She saw the utter discard to the human race,

And every wrinkle number one had stamped,

Made more determined every stamp was being unused.

My loafs and loafs,

have all become moulded and plastic,

There using them for certain feet,

To engage the mechanism so they meet,

Meet to fall in love, take a chance on love,

Love is such an indescribeable word,

The dictionary onl relies on lust,

Make sure it's spat on and wiped like dirty, dirty dust,

So i climb with my left over breadcrumbs,

Stiched over with bubbles and tinfoil,

Frozen all the pours, there cells cannot be lured

So wonder through the times of uncomplete,

The shop will sell your breadcrumbs but maybe with meat,

Who cares how it comes along,

As long as it tastes the tounge-ay-ounge-ay-ounge.

hahahahah yes it sounds random and long winded but thoughts Big Grin

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What a tiny little house we have.

Made of saw-mill timbers, flaking white paint,

And a tiny little tin roof.

Our first tiny little house to make into a tiny little home.

The years pass, as only years can,

And our tiny little house has grown with love.

Babies and hobbies have stretched the tin roof closer to our shady oak tree.

The oak tree that was once a tiny little acorn we planted together.

Board games, puppies, guitar strings, and Thanksgiving dinners

Have warmed these fragile plaster walls.

The squeaky wooden floors whisper their memories

And remind us as we pass under plain door frames.

The rocking chairs have earned their miles.

Words are now glances and we understand within the silence,

Our love has made our tiny little house

Into a tiny little home.

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