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GeographyMy last year of elementary school
Possibly the best on record
Before I grew up
We had this assignment that was meant to present
Our knowledge of these certain terms
Mountain, plateau, key, archipelago
Peninsula, strait, and so on, et cetera
Given these small, thin sheets of paper
And the definitions of each
I set out on a snow day to pursue this project
Colored pencils and a black felt pen
Carefully drawing them
Tongue out the side of my teeth
I wanted it to be perfect
It was a four hour ordeal
I remember reappearing out of my room
And lunch had gone by long ago
But I wasn't yet finished
I couldn't find a ring to hang them on
That's what they needed was a ring
And for the life of me I had none
I searched my drawers
Found needles and paper clips and scrap ribbons
Beads, a necklace, small scissors.... A necklace
It was only a simple solution
And I hoped it would be accepted
I even decorated it with beads spelling my name
The praise was more than I had in my eleven-year-old prospect
Someone To SaveHow do you find the right hand to grab
In a field of helpless strangers?
Whose is most important?
Whose will be needed most direly?
I see them coming at me
Like the kids on a merry-go-round
Each of their horses bucking them out of place
As they grab onto the pole
Tears bleeding from their faces
And band-aids unable to cover them
Each color should be a shade of brown
But they've dulled to gray
And I cannot see the color of their eyes
I'm not a saviour
But I would be for them
All the worn out shoes
The thin and ragged coats
The bruised lungs
And the scratched ribs
Ribs that have been worn threadbare to protect
My own heart cries to see beasts
Leaping at them
As if attacking their cages in attempts
To get their prey
It rarely ends
It continues to start
Little do I know I'm spinning in my own circle
Dizzied by the music
Waltzing me onto my head
Bleeding life out of my feet
And drowning my brain
I don't know if the hands grab for me
To lift me up
Or to be lifted
I assume they want
Just Checking...It's been while
It really hasn't been too long
But, for me, it's been a while
I really don't know what to say
Because I'm afraid anything I say is going to be stupid
How do I admit to you that
For the first time
You actually hurt me
I don't want you to know that
Because you wouldn't understand it
But it hurts more not to talk
Not to simply see how you're doing
You should see me in person
How I'm looking helplessly around the room
Biting my lip
Trying to think of what to tell you
Without telling you a lie
Or telling you the full truth
Friends don't break hearts
So how could I say I've been sick
Like my heart is nauseated by the thought
That we have a rift between us
A rift you don't even know exists
I keep being told
Just let it out already
Put it in your face
But you wear these sunglasses
These sunglasses like you wouldn't see through them
And they protect you
I could imagine you're happy that way
Why make you take them off?
I know I'm not the kind of art that draws your atte
All on my own!There's a feeling kinda like jet lag
When you haven't written something for a while and
You wonder, "Why haven't I written anything?"
Maybe it's because there's been too much to do
Too much to stress about?
But if you're stressed, wouldn't that cause something brilliant?
It usually does.
Even then, a bit of randomness that
MAKES NO SENSE
Should pass itself off as genius.
So what is this?
A poem or a rant? You pick.
A poetic rant? Can those be poetic?
I've always wondered how slam worked.
I can't slam poetry.
Somewhere back in the fifteenth age of the world, people started slamming
Doors, words, hammers, women, all sorts of junk.
I initially cringe at slamming.
But to let the energy gradually exit the tips of my fingers
And the tip of my tongue
From the nodes and rods and cones and cortex of my brain
That poetry comes freer and sweeter.
It may never stay within my memory, but once it has been
Written; captured with an inken audience; set in a grave stone
Brought to life on a
Most of the questions started that way.
But I learned that these questions have become null in most cases.
Because usually, they're the questions that people will try to answer right away.
Because they don't want to hear that question.
Because that question comes too quickly.
Because it is really annoying to hear someone ask that kind of question.
Because it makes someone vulnerable to the answer.
Because it's easier to just dish out the knowledge one has than have someone scavenge for it.
Because sometimes the explanation has already been given.
Because many people don't know how to explain, or if there even is an explanation.
Why did I treat this person so horribly?
Why don't I tell this person what I'm really thinking?
Why can't I be better about this habit?
Why can't people see how I see?
Why does everything have to just get complicated?
Why are humans so crude and stupid?
Why can't everyone just get along?
Why are these things bad?
Why are these things good?
Why is anyone eve
Through The RainI want to ride a horse through the rain
If it helps
Wash away the scorns I give myself
No one has to be perfect
But if some of this filth stays
It will grow onto me
I can breathe in the rain
With the power of four hooves
I can call over the hills
And fall back from the thunder in response
Just take a moment
To redirect the wind and capture the lightning
I'm not a farmer of storms
But they fill my harvest of words
And make buoyant my blood
As passion is bled onto the books
I will take a steed and ride
Through the rain
Soak my coat and shoes
So I can come home
And taste a little warmth
A Crack of LightSo this morning I felt like a crab with too much sand stuffed in his ears
And I wanted the salt of the ocean to just pour from my face
I lugged these pounds of sand tied to my hands and feet
Like a hot air balloon without a course
I was drowning in my own air, ungrounded
And I had somehow swallowed my fist as I went through the numbing motions
It seemed like I couldn't handle the little things
I was plaguing myself with my own pain
And the angry syrup flowing through my brain was like
A diabetic low on sugar, yet it was thick with the stuff
When you can't imagine climbing out of your heartbroken cell
Time seems to run all tortoise-like
Everyone hares in circles about you
Neither dream nor nightmare nor wake is your wake
In truth joy and discovery is simply slumbering a little longer
Peace works so hard that his muscles are fighting the lactic acid inside
Because the reality is
Peace can't exist without lots of pain
Without all of that, none of this purity could exist
The soundtrack sto
All the time
All for you.
Bittersweet GoodbyesI hugged him and
Cried for so long.
It must have been minutes on end.
He simply held me
And comforted me
Told me everything would be fine
And that we'd see each other again
Soon, in fact
He'd come to games and play his tuba
Come see me in musicals
And band concerts
I could call him if I wanted
If I needed help
If I missed him
If I was happy
If I was sad
If I just wanted to talk
He held me tight and just spoke
Stroked my head
Let my tears and sobs come
He gave me so much faith
And love and joy
I will never forget.
I thought he was Jesus then.
I still like to imagine he is sometimes.
Tortured GirlIn the deep dark forest.
Cries and screams
are all that can be heard.
Hush my girl
I know what's best.
Like a caged bird,
trapped forever more.
Your beautiful white dress
is stained with blood.
You run and run,
but all you find is a closed door.
Your tears have started a flood.
at every turn.
They cheer and clap at your pain.
The flame it burns you.
Your body is bounded by chains.
You are a tortured girl,
longing to see your true love again.
They say you have a evil soul.
They think your love for him was a sin.
But your love for him made your heart whole once again....
DreamsI have seen you in my dreams.
Your voice is so soft.
I drew a picture of you.
It's like we knew each other in past life's.
And when I see the night time sky I see you.
and you're always in my dreams.
I wonder am I in your dreams?
Nothing's changed except me and the facts
And the happiness I didn't mean to start
But it seems that I am way to smart
Its right but I can't still see it
Yet the fire burns in me
So u can see that evil in me
Even though it's time to play
We said hey and good day.
Not hurt--not allowed to feel hurt by that
But you see that we love you in fact
The evil doesn't burn any more
And for the first time I understand what I want
So I can prove u wrong in this world
For you to see the evil doesn't burn any more
No, not hurt, because what could scar is a part
For I didn't touch you that hard for the scar
The scar will stay there for ever
But over life end soon so it won't burn
Even though this Free Verse is not wrong
But this song will not go on.
Deadly RoomDing the clock strikes midnight.
Check under your beds,
check in your closets
Make sure your toys are in
a large circle to protect you.
The monsters will get naughty
little children in their sleep.
Ones who don't misbehave
and don't listen.
Stay as quiet as a mouse.
When you walk on your floor.
Your room is not the safest place.
It's full of secrets and fears.
A place where monsters lurk and creep.
the blood red moon
shines through your window.
It's a sign that the monsters
time to rule your dreamworld.
Freddy Krueger has come to play
your life will stop in your dreams
by his deadly claws.
needles and nailsThe poison in my blood
is the best high i can have.
the lures in my heart
they rip my soul in half.
I go numb in your presence
words dead in the air.
some days you're hard to escape
some days i can only stare.
The words I want to say
are murdered in the night.
All i can do is scream them to death;
I'm such a joke; such a mess; such a fright.
I can only hold you in memories,
this love has me impailed.
My scared lips can still smile . . .
But my soul is torn from needles and nails.
Lie To MeFingertips lace around my ribs
And pull at my skin
As my breath catches
At the coolness of your touch.
Calm these trembling hands
And hold them tight in yours.
I'll move my lips on yours
Just so you don't have to.
Hearts beat faster and
My breath shudders with insecurity.
Press my body close to yours
So I don't shatter into fragments.
Lie to me one more time.
Tangle your legs in mine,
Brush your lips along my neck.
Make me feel alive.
fallin apart...My soul has died
My blood spills from my mouth, nose, ears and eyes,
I watch my bones fall to the ground
As I stand there without a frown.
I have taken many hits,
but this blow did me in,
my body hits the ground
And doesn't even make a sound.
You pushed me to the brink
And now I can not think,
my brains leek out my nose,
my eyes sink to my toes
As my soul stands to watch my body decompose.
Such a pity, such a sin,
my body has given in,
my veins spread out on the floor
Like live wires,
they squirm around ever more.
My hair is falling out,
my tung melts from my mouth,
my soul just stands and stairs
At the body that's every where.
Red is the new brown,
for it is all around,
my skin to make a bed
For whoever chooses to use what's left.
My body has fallen to pieces
This anyone can see,
some days are bloodier then others,
but nothing is bloodier then me.
Rains of SorrowThe rain is pouring
Pouring down sorrows
Pouring down visions
Of what will happen on the morrow
I know I cannot stop it
But at least I can try
Fling my arms wide open,
And beg mercy from the sky
O my lord Zeus!
Why must you plague me?
I played your games, stepped in your traps
I gambled dice with the tendrils of Destiny
What do I get,
For a half-broken wish?
Sorrow upon sorrow
Despair and anguish
Rain, rain, please go away
If you must, come back another day
Come when I am happy and bright,
Come when I have truly found sight
Go trouble the old man,
Sleeping on his porch
Don't harass me
Holder of Fate's torch
Lest it blow out,
Lest the flames die,
I can do nothing
But sit down and cry
Cry for the future, cry for the past
But however bad they are, the present is worse
The present's not a gift
The present is a curse
Graveyard of my dreams,
Dreams that never came true
Dreams of me walking
Slowly towards you
But then you pass by,
Without sparing a glance
This is destiny
Not the child of chan
How Dare You?How Dare you suck out the strength in my limbs?
How Dare you distract me in lectures with a look,
A flicker of interest?
How Dare you smile knowingly at me, as broadly
As the ocean?
How Dare you know I'd do anything for you?
How Dare you wring my heart in my chest ruthlessly,
And make my cheeks burn?
How Dare you call my name, your tongue tethering to it
As if it were your own?
How Dare you?
How Dare you entice my ears with your jokes, your laugh? "You get to hear my
Droning voce," you say as you glance my way.
How Dare you twist my emotions into a salad of anxiety
How Dare you holster down that which is savage
How Dare you?
I don't need you.
Your voice rings mute in my ears.
I am not hypnotized by your cerulean gaze.
I am my own creature,
I do not yearn for your consent,
I am my own creature,
I don't desire your praise.
So, How Dare you?
How Dare you invade my mind, coiling
In every dream, every thought?
How dare you spur my lungs into failure,
You're My PhobiaDriving me into darkness
Huddled in fetal position
I couldn't stop the frightened tears running down my face
That strange sense
That looming animosity I was clutched in
It has never disappeared
Even if it never truly existed
This tower over me, this shadow
The bane of everything I dream about
I can't speak, not face to face
Look in the eyes
Hear that piercing, blasting voice
I go numb
Alone and vulnerable
I feel so weak and defenseless
Just the mention of it
Curdles my blood
Treated like a friend but feeling like
I am the prey
Going cold in an instant, tense and dry
Wishing only to look at the floor
I wouldn't dare approach
Nor wish to be approached
It's like meeting a black hole
And feeling the blackness of the gravity on the hairs of your skin
I can't scream, I can't cry
I can't run and hide or fight
I just have to find a shield
And pray the fire doesn't come beating down
This is a phobia
It has no particular name
But I'm sure it's not n
Vanguard, Chapter 1: DuncanDuncan's Journal: Day 1288
I consider myself a good man. I respect women, elders, my equals, and the dead. I say a morning prayer, and an evening one. Hell, I even thank the gods for a meal, instead of immediately chowing down in the voracious manner as the other soldiers here do. By all logical means, I should be in paradise. No really, not just because I'm a good man, but also because I should be dead by now. So I ask myself: why, oh gods up there, have I ended up in hell?
1288 days. 1288 days of my life have been spent in this misery, and I'm beginning to lose faith in the glory I was promised. Some of the rookies still live in their ignorant bliss, but I've lived long enough to realize that there's not much glory to find here. “Sing the songs of glory and march into battle—-join The Crusade today!”. Such were the words of the posters The Crusade has spread all over The Mortal Realm. Gullible fools practically stand in line for these songs of glory that th
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