Tuesday, September 30, 2008

My own poetry

As you may or may not know, I like to write poetry. I've been doing it since I was 14 (6 years), and I absolutely love it. The thing about good poetry is that it has to be fueled by sincere emotions. Not to blow my own horn and say that mine is good or anything, but it definitely was fueled by real emotions. I wont go into detail now on why, but long story short; my childhood was pretty much one big rough patch, as opposed to most people suffering those rough patches during key growth periods. A person can only handle so much until they find a way to vent. Either that or completely explode. Anyway, writing poetry became my vent. I guess because I have a natural inclination (not necessarily talent) for it. But when you do something that is so important to your emotional well-being for a good deal of time, you become proud of what you have created no matter whether others think you are spectacular or not. By the way, I think mine is good. So here are some of the poems I have written. Some are a little morbid, but I hope you enjoy them and please let me know what you think. I am always open to a little constructive criticism to improve myself. ( btw, I was never brought to the extremes that some of these poems sugest, in case you were wondering.)

A hole in my hand
a hole in my head.
I've shot myself
this is the end.
Lying crumpled on the floor.
My life it pools out on the floor.
Blood on the floor
blood on the wall
stained in the curtains
and in the hall.
Running far across the floor.
Dripping from my nose,
my mouth, my eyes, my ears,
and running down my throat.
Lying spread across the floor
with my eyes wide open.
My hair is matted to my head,
staring at the cieling.
Red lights flashing everywhere.
Sirens from the street.
Zipping me inside a bag,
taking me away.
Suffocating in a bag,
even though i'm dead.
Flashing red and black inside
my already rotting head.
EVER 6/27/06
Like a bird I will
fly far away from you.
Like smoke inthe wind
I will remain unseen to your eyes.
Like a leaf burried in the snow
be there dying away but you will
never know im there.
Like a raindrop in a puddle
I will make a difference
yet I will be nothing.
Like a blown out candle
I will always glimmer of what once was
or what never could have been.
Like an echo i'll leave my presence
but you will never hear the true me.
The only thing that promises everything
and nothing at all is the word ever.
IN THE DARK 9/14/05
I'll never reach the bottom
the bottom of my soul
secrets burried deep inside
i'll never find the core.
I'll never reach the bottom
the bottom of my hate
i'm soaked within it everyday
i'll never reach the end.
I'll never reach the bottom
the bottom of my will
I'll keep on going all the time
I'll never see the light.
If I could slow, if I could stop,
i'd bring it to an end.
If i could only find the light,
I'd not turn it on, but sit in the dark,
and ponder my life, and put a pillow
on ine side of my head,
so I couldnt hear the bullet exiting the other.

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