OK, so after much consideration and deliberation, I have decided I will share some more of my 'poems'. There will be five in this post and another five in the next. These are the few I'm sort of happy to share with people at this moment in time, after these I will probably not put anymore up because the rest are for me.
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Inspired by a Bob Dylan song
Dirge
My mind is all over the place, I don’t know what to do
I had no one else to talk to, that’s why I’m calling you
I couldn’t take it any longer, I just had to know
I had to talk to her, now I’ll tell you of my woe
I couldn’t get any worse; I had nothing else to lose
And all this not-knowing, had me really confused
I knew it sounded crazy, and wasn’t very likely
But I asked her anyway, if she truly liked me?
She hesitated for a moment, I started to dread
I seen it in her eyes, going through lines in her head
Time stood still, I went over every scene I had read
In an apologetic tone, with one fatal, fair line she said;
"How can I like you when you don't even like yourself?"
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The title is from a Jeff Buckley song
You Either Die or You Keep On Burning
I miss my beautiful friend
I just want her to know this
And want to tell her I’m sorry
I hope it’s not too late, I fear it is
I wish things were different
And we could go back to smiling
Spending afternoons on the swings
Before the troubles started piling
My fear got the best of me
I should have never let you fall
Now I’m laying here in regret
It was my fault, I ruined it all
We may no longer speak
But I’ll carry you in my yearning
I wish happiness in your new life
But I am burning, I am burning…
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People told me to stop writing in rhyme and try free verse, this was my first free verse.
To Whom It May Concern;
Haunting ring of rejection is again
Shivering in the sombre sound of silence
Why do you not answer?
Do you hate me? Do you hate me?
Love Unrequited is my oldest friend
She has shaped my thoughts and feelings,
Becoming an integral part of me.
True friends are rare, but She is always there.
My insecurities won’t let go of my inhibitions
I can’t be me around you, open or real
Not willing to risk our friendship on a no go
I will never tell her, she will never know
Seeking comfort in the familiarity of nothingness
Trapped in a self deprecating sense of self.
The Devil and God live within me
Peace fails to exist.
I see no escape route, no where to leave
I feel my time is drawing close
If God loves me, he won’t mind having me
No one knows me and no one will miss me
So to this lonely life I bid farewell,
If you’re listening, hear my cry;
I’m free and all yours.
Goodbye.
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Written at the time I was watching about three serial killer documentaries a night.
Serial Killer Documentary
Look at him such a nice man, a son, a husband, a friend, a father
So smart, he worked harder then any other, lawyer or doctor
Locked her up and chopped her, who would have thought
That he was a killer, who killed her? Tortured her in his chamber
A danger, a friend who’s suddenly become a stranger.
Can’t describe the urge, the surge, merged with murders occurred
There’s no word to describe the vibe; I’m disturbed; it’s absurd
Mindset’s all blurred; I’m distant, bird’s eye view of the world
This is only the blurb; you haven’t even heard the full gory story
Of how a young boy from the suburbs, happen to find his glory
I’m feeling weak, a week since I’ve been asleep, my future’s bleak
A creep who roams the streets for something to eat: child’s meat
A treat, a beast who feasts on at least a piece of the deceased
Pleased to be unleashed off his leash and released all of his disease
Ceasing the peace, strangle her to death, and leave her to bleed.
The thrill to kill, with the will to thrill, no dreams to fulfill
Drink and pop pills, ‘til my stomachs filled. And if you feel I’m real,
I’ll take you home, cut you up, and eat your flesh to seal the deal
I’m only joking honey, don’t be scared by the knife I wield,
It’s the fucking chainsaw I’m going to use to make you squeal.
My favorite hobby is having sex with dead bodies, with every victim
I need more pain to be inflicted, sick sin, so I ripped in to her chest
Slipped in my fist, pulled her heart out, and ticked her off the list
Slit throat and wrists, give her a little kiss, she wont be missed
So what if it was my mother? Bitch shouldn’t have got me pissed!
It’s not a bloodbath; it’s a bath of blood, look at the caskets flood
Cuddle your love; give them a hug before they’re covered in mud
Immediate media attention, police got special case on the task
It’s funny, while I stalk this city, wearing your face as a mask
Who made me this crazy? I can’t say. I’m making them hate me!
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Eminem's Recovery kind of gave me my own recovery.
Recovery
Your persuasive rays of light
Opened doors of hope
Until there was nothing left, but to smile
Did I die and arrive at the hereafter?
Is it me really speaking?
Do I deserve to be joyous unconditionally?
To many irrelevant questions
Holding on to the past
I have let go
Striding blissfully onwards
The pathway to destiny
Or whatever else arises
My mind is clear, spirit is free, and heart is open
Everything else will take care of itself.
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