I wrote these poems recently. Some people were reading them at coffee hour today and seemed to think they were ok, so I thought I'd share them.
FOR ANOTHER
My hands are shaking. I can hardly breathe. You have done this to me With your lies, with your lust For Another.
Your selfish words Have sucked me dry. I have no tears left For what you have done For Another.
Was it worth it? Your love for her, is it Enough to fill your empty Cavity with warmth For Another?
You have both learnt How to lie and cheat For each other, and one day You will both do it again For Another.
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THE SICKNESS
There is a sickness in you I cannot fathom, An empty, hollow, searching heart, Filled with anger, pain and sorrow.
You had your reasons for what you did. I will not forgive Your cowardly attempts to make yourself Feel something other than emptiness.
You did not make the wrong choices, You made none. And now you have no one to choose For you, to blame for what you've done.
And now I hope your heart is full Not with love With guilt, remorse, shame and fear of the loneliness in which you've fallen.
And now you must know what You have done Will not go unspoken, but will scream Out and make known everything you've broken.
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BETRAYAL
Have you anything to say for youerself? You c*nt, you wh*re? I gave you all a friend could ask And yet you wanted more.
I trusted everything you said. I was there when things went wrong. And now I find you, conniving sl*t, Played me for a fool all along.
Everything you said to me was lies You betrayed me and I cannot forgive All the times you stabbed me in the back I hope you regret it as long as you live.
No good can come of all of this So be proud of what you have done And you will end up all alone Was it worth it? Was it so much fun?
I will move on from this time. I will escape this place. One day you'll pass me in the street And I won't even remember your face.
But you will remember mine.
_____
There can be more as and when requested, enjoy my pretties! xxx
I really like these Liz. They are so angsty and capture the way you are feeling at the moment... My favourite is the first one.. the final stanza cuts to the bone, perfectly underpinning the metaphor of betrayal and deceit. Keep writing, and please show me more of your stuff!
Thanks Mr Dave, no more for tonight though. I am going to bed with two lovely furry creatures - Duncan and Eeyor! See you all in coffee hour tomorrow x
I don't usually bother reading the poems people put up here, not past the first verse at least. All 3 of these poems are really good though. I think the last one's my favourite.
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Comes across all shy and coy, just another nancy boy.
i might just be repeating other people here, but hey. loved the poems, especially the last verse of the first one. you seem to have managed the near impossible - making poems about angst that are actually good.
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alright stop, collaborate and listen,
ice is back with a brand new invention
here are three poems I wrote when I broke up with my boyfriend of two years last year.
Me
Breathe over me Let your air Catch the hair On me
Touch me Let your fingers Stroke My Cheek Up, Down
Grab Me My Arm Press into me Make me shake
Hit me Let the blood Show itself Underneath my skin
Throw me Into something Let the blood escape Prove to you I’m real
Spit on me Disgusted
Leave me
Now you know
The hardest thing Was seeing your face As I left
The hardest thing Was walking out of the door As u cried
The hardest thing Was not crying As the wind covered my face
The hardest thing Was Walking away
The hardest thing Is being alone. No, it’s being scared of being alone
The hardest thing Was getting over you
But how could it be easy I loved you Did you know that?
Past
If you could change the past, would you? Would you take back all the things you did and said? Would you take away the hurt, the pain, the fights, the anger? Would you have stopped me leaving? Would, is a stupid word Would is about regret W O U L D is about what you S H O U L D have done But didn’t
I’ll rephrase the question: Should you have done things differently?
Well?
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Johnk
The only freedom that you’ll ever really know
Is written in books from long ago
I think it would be great, for diversity week, to produce an anthology or poems, short stories, experiences and opinions in a booklet that we can have on the stall, publish on the web and maybe even sell in Union Books?
What does everyone else think?
John K xxx
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Johnk
The only freedom that you’ll ever really know
Is written in books from long ago
*clicks fingers in pseudo-poetry-reading-in-a-coffee-house style*
i feel creatively stunted reading all these. i think i only attempted to write poetry once in my life, and it didn't take me long to screw it all up in a fit of embarrassed self loathing.
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alright stop, collaborate and listen,
ice is back with a brand new invention
Wow, now those are some angry poems John. I like the idea of a booklet of poems and stories. There are a lot of people in the society who have written stuff, or would be willing to. Sounds like a plan x
quote: Originally posted by: shymike "i feel creatively stunted reading all these. i think i only attempted to write poetry once in my life, and it didn't take me long to screw it all up in a fit of embarrassed self loathing."
I cannot write poetry. Does that mean I shouldn't try to? Maybe there is something that I need to say that I cannot, devoid of creativity sitting at my computer.
Maybe I could learn to write poetry. But surely if I did, the things I once felt I should say would have become irrelevant. And writing a poem would be pointless.
I think, that if what i wanted to write on here was that important, I would tell you in another way.
Even so, maybe it would sound better if i made it rhyme?
I am at a loss. But read this post again. I think it has made my point. I cannot write poetry.
-- Edited by Adam at 22:41, 2005-01-25
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I reserve... I reserve... I have a reservation... I HAVE a reservation.. What do you mean its not in the computer?
wow, we've all started talking in rhym like some dodgy simpson's episode. next thing you know, alberto will burst into song and we'll all be dancing about dry cleaning like 'once more with feeing' and then one of us will burst into flames and then the lgb will be shut down and the breeders will take over the world. noooooooooooo!!!!!!!!!!!!
hehe... here's some miserable mediocrity for y'all:
Burn I am no oak, and you are no carpenter, But cut me down, why don’t you. Shake off my leaves and tear away my branches. Rip out my roots, carve me up, Burn my carcass to warm an Empty room.
Now that I am ash, I have no wish to be born again - But to emerge into the world, maybe, Fully-formed, complete and problem free, Cauterised and happy, The hardened, charcoaled figure Of a burnt-down tree. -------------------------- Blue Flowers, or: A Forced Metaphor Blue flowers, wilting, Sunburnt, as they bask By a drowsy stream.
I take one. Its musky scent spirals up In a mist of languid pique; The anger of a fading life, Plucked from its mortality. The stream slicks past, Phlegm-green and sick, Fogged by hordes of mosquitoes, Whilst scavenging wasps suck the last ounce of life From corpse to blue-faced corpse.
My train of thought Is disturbed, by a cough; Spinning on my heels, I turn To see you standing Watching me.
Your hair glows orange in the soft sun; Your face crabstick pink, With lips askew. ‘Here – take one,’ I say, offering my gift – ‘It’ll remind you of me’.
Your odd look shifts to a smile. But a mosquito has left a swelling on your cheek - It spoils the effect.
‘It’s OK –I’d rather not’, you say And walk off, Leaving me, Wilting. --------------------------------------- Orange I like the colour orange And I like the fruit as well I saw on QI that it rhymes with 'Blorenge', Which is a hill somewhere near Abergavenny.
mediocre my arse. they were well good! my favourite line was 'from corpse to blue faced corpse'. a little morbid in my appreciation, but i like the way it sounds.
the blorenge is near where i live! i've always wanted to write a poem with it in, just to rhyme it with orange. strange how i never quite got round to it.
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alright stop, collaborate and listen,
ice is back with a brand new invention
