narrative
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Poetry is a song
that sings from within
The beat and the melody
perfectly blended
Of thoughts expressed
and uniquely their own
It's a voice unheard
When I was coming upmomma and daddy both said"Finish your plate, son. Eat the rest!"More often than not there'd be somethingI didn't like, or didn't like enoughand momma or daddy one would say
SUICIDE MISSION
We wanted our lives to have
A little adventure thrown in it
We set off in to the marshes
In search for the exciting and
Terrifying occult screen display
Hear! Lend me your ears!
Friends,family and peers!
For I shall tell you a tale,
That happened in our vill.
It was the last and quite possibly the most turbulent year of what had been a turbulent decade.
He keeps me safe
I trust him because I fear him
And he’s all I need and more
He has a power over me he can’t control
He makes the birds sing
Once upon a time I needed you.
My body and heart craved for you.
You were my definition of perfect.
Everything in you was just intact.
Little did I know that wasn’t a fact.
Before my house’s basement was finished,
It was a barren concrete playground,
For my imagination to mold.
Silver lined walls got punctured and distorted,
To whoever will find this note I left,
'Tis certain I am dead and not so quick.
Be still, and sit inside your cleft,
As I read to you my fable thick.
So hearken! For here begins my tale.
Two years, three years, five years passed
Now we're in this chapel
Everything feels surreal
It all feels like a dream
Two years, three years, five years passed
At five,
when I fell off my bicycle for the first time and bled,
my mum leapt in to pick me up and ,"Honey!”, she said, “You know why Superman has a cape that is red?"
Born with blood royal
And blessed with fairy wishes,
A young girl was to grow into a lovely woman
But was tainted with one’s cursed kisses.
No matter the spoils or words of roses
"Never again"
History's a cruel mystery
But how clever a pen
Cinema's sentiment's more cinnamon-sweet
We're amateur janitors just been sent in to sweep
Epilogue for a demagogue when we set him asleep
I wish I had a photographic memory
so that my mind could take snapshots
of the vividness before me
the collections of saturated thoughts
are ever present
I recollect the luminous glow of the heavens
Time is currency between us.
Nights make sure to last longer so that we can talk for that much more.
From your apartment, I can hear the clamor of the city outside.
Miles into rural land, where no honk or squeal of the city could be heard, no urban life,
The summer air was tempid and so thick you could slice it with a knife,
My boat drifts away from the dock
I sit and watch my dreams die.
How do I say, “it is okay, you have a plan.”
You do have a plan, right?
The boat drifts to the horizon, my stomach drifts with it.
Locker 1453.
I left a part of myself behind your door on the last day of seventh grade;
you wheezed
and sputtered when I opened you,
but I didn't mind; for you had become a strange sort of companion
Oh little runaway
How could I refuse?
Take my hand
Here we go!
Oh, my little runaway
We'll have so much fun
Who are you?
I can't see you
But I know you're there
Will you stay with me?
We can conquer the desert
You and me
So what do you say?
Run away with me?
Oh, little runaway...
Did you mean to meet me here?
All alone yet together
I'm standing here
Can you see me?
Oh, little runaway...
Do you see me?
There's no need to cry
i always wake up feeling the best at other people’s houses and other people’s beds. is it the person or is it the meds?
feed me sertraline and caffeine, inject me with all those pills and potions. give me a reason to keep living by my struggling...
Aught afore the mountains
And afore ye seven seas
T’were created something else
As a few now still believe
And a beauty that they were
And so shall e’er be
The fish-folk of the depths
I did not wake up like this, yet I am flawless.
It was harder than I could have imagined
(still is, sometimes).
I have a strength forged through perseverance
She walked into the room again, her heart was about to bust,
She talked about her feelings, the shame within her lust,
She danced across the floor, to show just how she felt,
It was 11 o'clock on Christmas eve
Everyone was heading to bed
When all of the sudden someone said
"do you hear that"
Here what we said
"the noise it's sounds like bells overhead"
The poem, A Marvelous Day, is based on a prompt from my poetry writing course and the book Writing Poems by Boisseau, Michelle and Wallace, Robert.
Twinkling, descending, clear shafts
Drip helplessly from
Garage roofs, and
Ice takes shape of pealed
Paint along the house-side,
And I’m glad because at least once a year my
