Sunday, 31 July 2011
A simple smile,
It raises you a grin
It makes you want to sing
A fragile smile,
A shimmering smile,
It makes your work light
It creats a mighty knight
A wolfish smile,
An interested smile,
It gets a boy his girl
It's sweeter than a pearl
A gentle smile,
A knowing smile,
It strengthens your dad
It encourages a lad
A happy smile,
A beautiful smile,
It makes your day nice
It fills your life with spice
A smile, a smile,
A simple smile
It's as sweet as a song
It makes the weak strong
Don't be afraid to smile;
Don't let the frowns hold you back
So smile on your a stroll
It might just heal a broken soul
Saturday, 30 July 2011
Her heart was dead
Her soul was lost
She sat in shadow,
No expression on her face
She sat in a corner,
Headphones firmly in place
She listened to the music
She listened to the songs
They penetrated her mind
They infatuated her flesh,
But she didn't care;
Her heart was gone,
Her soul replaced
All that remained was red on black,
Hatred mixed despair
She trusted no one
No one cared enough for her,
To see if she was alright
She was the weirdo,
The annoying little kid
The one that sat there, day after day,
Letting the painful remarks disease her
She just didn't care anymore
Let them have their way,
Let them say what they wanted
Her heart was lost
Her soul was dead
Her mind was disappearing,
Her body was wearing away
She was useless
She was nothing but a fool
She was the girl with hollow eyes
She was just a stupid mule
A mule, to be given a job
A mule, to be beaten and hurt
A mule, souless, careless
A mule, nothing but a useless worker
That's who she was
Why did she even exist?
She took up space,
She sucked up air
She spread her black cloud
She should be gone from here!
No one cared at all
Why let her live?
She wasn't using life anyway
Might as well clean up that black mess!
Friday, 22 July 2011
Ok. I wrote another poem. But it's a bit different to what I usually write- this is what they call an abstract poem. This is my first go at this kind of thing, so I'm not sure how it turned out... And for the record- the dodgy spacing and lack of capitals/punctuation is meant to be there. So, tell me what you think. Did it work? Did it not? Should I never try abstract poetry again? Generic thoughts? You know. The usual.
Oh- and another thing. I'm sorry if it's not very accurate... I don't have much experience, so I was just trying to make it up. I'm not sure how that went. Yeah.
Anyway... I present to you...
she took a sip
eventually the whole bottle was gone
there was too much hurt to
she wanted anything that would make her forget
she wanted to
she wanted to be
she didn’t want to care about the
but that seemed all she could do
care about the
‘give me another’
and the cold glass was placed in front of her
the intoxicating fluid
it wasn’t over
Wednesday, 20 July 2011
I've written a new poem.
It's not great but it's almost OK.
I know what happened,
I was there,
I saw it all,
You can't deny it,
In the shadows,
You'd not care,
But someone else did,
Me that's right.
I saw the claw,
Begin to fall,
It's sharpened point gleamed,
Then slit its throat.
A mouse was there,
An innocent mouse,
You murdered it,
I shan't admit it,
As I saw it killed,
Something else died,
A part of me,
The part that keeps me up,
When I'm feeling down,
Everything will be fine,
No one will be hurt,
But now the truth,
Has shattered that hope.
Us cats have always stuck together,
Now it's different,
And not for the better.
Monday, 18 July 2011
Feel the spiteful wind weave through your tattered vest.
But close your eyes and dream away,
for cold, cold winds subside in May.
And when you dream, dream of me,
Dream that we're always meant to be.
And dream of flying past the stars,
on silver wings and not in cars.
Think of oceans and the open sky;
your imagination was always meant to fly.
Dream of the comfort, warmth and love,
Soft and gentle as a dove.
Dream of things you love and hold,
Think like that and you'll never grow old.
And the small smile that spreads across your face
Could beat back just about every mace.
But all too soon the shots ring out,
And everything starts to burn about.
Your high-flying dream runs away again
Just like people on a bullet train
A poem written by Blood Butteflies and posted with permission.
A garden to be in,
A home in the hearth,
For things with legs or fins.
Then there were the animals,
Then there were the humans,
It was like a carnival,
Just without the stands.
But there came along the fruit,
The fruit expressively forbidden.
And the snake that tempted with loot,
That got us all banished from Eden.
So the angle now guards paradise, that paradise in hell,
And one day, we can all return, to the Eden Eternal.
A poem written by Blood Butterflies and posted with permisson.
Stand guard at the door.
To protect you, dear widow,
Is what we are here for.
A dead face peers at us.
Uncomprehending and wide-eyed.
Soon things like it will kick up a big fuss,
We’d all rather they be tied.
Soon, the shots ring out
As guns open fire.
And things will start to burn about,
Just like funeral pyres.
So sit there, dear widow, and mourn the death of your father, husband and more.
To protect you, my dear, is what we are here for.
A poem written by Blood Butterflies (Tessa) and posted with permission.
A mind broken into a million pieces.
Rocking, rocking, refuse all help.
Smack away your hand, ignore peace.
Mind flashes back to scene.
Broken bodies, moaning mouths.
Eyes that stare without blinking.
Fire and smoke that stormed the house.
Lots of screaming people,
Heads that fall off necks.
Ears that lie, bleeding, on the dirt floor
Stomachs that are cut open and people that laugh in pecks.
Innocence broken, cannot be repaired,
To the girl in the fluffy pink dress at the asylum unprepared.
A poem written by Blood Butterflies (Tessa) and posted with permission.
There's a dead Butterfly in my palm
There's a dead Butterfly in my palm,
I picked it up, who knows where,
Put it in my hand,
Carried it everywhere.
There's a dead Butterfly in my palm,
I crushed its wings, who knows how,
Held it out to someone,
Saying, "I don't know where it was found."
There's a dead Butterfly in my palm
I watched it die, flip, flap and flop.
Cold, heartless and stony.
Emotions drain from the top.
There's a dead Butterfly in my palm, I think it's a her,
And with a sickening lurch, I realize I'm the murderer.
Posted with her permission.
Sunday, 17 July 2011
Saturday, 16 July 2011
I suppose it's about time I wrote a sad poem :P
Hope you like it and you arn't too depressed by it....
I sit there in confusion
Whilst nine thousand feelings weigh upon my soul.
My hands clench in one moment,
And tremble in the next as I realize I can never climb out...
I'm falling down a never-ending black hole;
I'm forever lost in this dark void.
My heart is flooded with more than one doubt.
My body is diseased with despair.
All the ideas I once had now lay in ruins, utterly destroyed...
I don't know what to do...
I don't know how to handle this ordeal...
All that I am, all that I was..., I just cannot construe.....
The aims I had are now gone.
All dashed upon the unforgiving rocks of the seashore,
Then washed far away with the ocean's tide.
Happiness has fled from me;
Anguish consumes my being!
My logical mind deserted me long ago...
I sit alone..., always alone....
Ever falling deeper into this black pit.
Friday, 15 July 2011
5a.m, you lie awake,
Think back to your beloved family.
Do you reminiscence in destruction’s wake?
Would you miss your wife, your Emily?
Your gun! Your gun,
Hold her tender as you would your pride.
You could come here just for some fun,
Or you could come here to fix the strife.
Screaming bombshells dive recklessly
Just outside my tent
Help me, tell my family,
Tell them soon I went.
And as you finally close your eyes to the destruction of this war.
But behind your eyelids, instead of rest, a gaping, bloody, maw.
*Poem written by Blood Butterflies (Tessa) and posted with her permission.
Thursday, 14 July 2011
Wednesday, 13 July 2011
I have permission from Quinn to post the two poems together so here they are.
Sir Octa of Ambrosius,
Here's a poem I have written,
Although it may not be the choicest.
My rhymes may feel a little off,
And the syllables aren't up to scratch,
But hey, I'm only starting out,
Please remember that.
I'll start pretty simply,
With the topic of 'Who Am I?'
I am just a little girl,
Who wants to learn to fly,
Now if we continue on,
We'll find out something more:
That you need a flying partner,
If you want to soar.
Now I'm asking oh so graciously,
If you'd do me the pleasure,
Of being the one who flies with me,
It would be such a treasure.
We could fly above the moon,
Beyond the stars and sun.
Maybe up to Pigfarts!
Oh wouldn't that be fun!
We could fly up in a rocketship,
Or an aeroplane,
To be honest I don't really mind,
To me it's all the same.
So my purple poet,
Consider my request,
'Cause flying into space with you,
Would simply be the best!
Although I must warn you,
It's not exactly legal.
But this is the price you must pay,
To fly like an eagle.
And now I'm having doubts,
As to whether you'll accept,
My rather wonderful but delusional,
High flying request.
So allow me to convince you,
With a story of what could be,
If you fly up all the way into space,
With the lovely me.
We'd land on Mars with a grin,
Give the students quite a start,
Then we'd say, "Hello there,
Have we arrived at Pigfarts?"
Once this had been confirmed,
We'd feast on Redvines galore,
And arrange a meeting,
With headmaster Rumbleroar.
Then obviously we'd be granted,
An honorary degree,
And an invitation to return,
To teach some wizardry.
A ride on the back of,
The hat and monacle wearing lion.
And then we'd return to the rocket,
Leaving as happy clients.
We could go anywhere,
To the moon or to the sun,
So please do accept my request,
It would be so much fun!
And now I end this letter,
Written out in Louisiana.
Please write back, yours sincerely,
Monday, 11 July 2011
who are looking for me.
Several have found the place
where I have been hiding.
I don’t know how they discovered
the vicinity where I hid in fear.
But I always ended up crushed
beneath their giant feet.
Laughing, the giants would leave,
my guts crushed all around.
Friends and family ignored me
as I staggered back up, gasping for air.
Getting back up is important.
Even if one is knocked down by a giant.
Sometimes it takes awhile to stand.
It helps if a caring soul is near.
Yet what do you do,
when you are left alone?
No one cares
as you lie bleeding there.
Take your time I say.
Let yourself rest.
When healing comes
You will be ready to prevail.
Take note of those who deserted you
in your time of need.
Go find better people
And leave the others behind.
Make sure you never cast
pearls before swine.
So next time when the giants come,
you won’t be deserted like me
The beautiful Mriss. Croga,
Oh how I swoon,
You take advantage of me,
Eyes piercing like a harpoon.
I love you dearly,
Like a sister,
Or a rock,
Don't ever leave me, mister.
Here is a wish,
For you and me,
To meet each other,
And hug with glee.
We could be best friends,
More so than now,
Don't ever forget me,
If you do, we'll row.
My dear beloved,
We'll be together always,
And battle with led.
Your Birthday Present,
I hope you liked it,
And got what I meant.
It's not very good I know. I'm not good at rhyming, but my feelings are there. :3
Saturday, 9 July 2011
lives a boy in the land down under.
Hellboy is his taken name
Writing is his claim to fame.
With skill born from a genius
delighting us with many a story.
Enthusiasm bound with inspiration
he helps our imagination take flight.
Each of us as found him to be
a priceless friend when in need.
Like his creation Israel
he boldly stands up for what is noble.
Not to high class he clowns around
yet always one step ahead.
Sharing the adventures that he has had
Taking time to listen to his friends.
Hellboy we all salute you
for being so extraordinary.
What a marvelous friend you are!
You constantly amaze us!
So as you celebrate your birthday,
I hope it’s full of blessing.
For that is what you have been,
to each of us, God’s gift.
HAPPY BIRTHDAY HELLBOY!!!!
MAY ALL YOUR DREAMS COME TRUE!!!!!
Thursday, 7 July 2011
a land of beauty and culture.
She extended her hand of camaraderie
To all those who were around her.
With a gentle smile she blesses us,
her cunning and intelligence inspires.
Grace goes before her
and friendships follow after.
A soul that seeks and longs for peace,
our Aquila is often troubled
by the senseless brutality and suffering
of those who should know better.
If only a more just world could be
for our Aquila to enjoy.
She could rest and savor all of life’s joys
with her friends right by her side.
Bravely she journeys on,
moving past many hurts and disappointments.
Stay strong dear Aquila!.
Be resilient, brave, and true.
It will come, that day when all
her dreams will bear fruit!
No longer will she have to be
all alone to face the darkness.
But for now when she seeks
yet finds no peace around.
Into the forest she ventures.
Solitude and tranquility she desires.
There will she find it,
while sitting on a rock.
Posed like a queen,
surrounded by majestic trees.
Slowly they come near,
the animals of the woods.
Unafraid they befriend her,
The fox, eagle, and cat.
From them she sees the hope
that the Virtuous will rise again.
Peace and happiness will be hers,
To be shared with those she loves.
Tuesday, 5 July 2011
swirled around a figure of fire.
Passion pulsed within his heart
to the music that his soul played!
A joy so rapturous,
a spirit uncontained,
he danced among the sands,
displaying arts of wonder!
Entranced, we watched his grace
and his warmth pulled us in
to a celebration of bliss
that made us radiate with life.
Treating each one his friends
like a king or a queen,
He has shown to all of us
the true meaning of nobility.
With elegance and eloquence
his mind so clever and so virtuous,
He is quick to laugh and slow to shout.
For a friend he is always near,
swift to give out an embrace.
A castle upon his head,
put there for a kingfisher.
Mighty as a warrior
but gentle for a bird.
Brilliant as a poet,
Inspiring us once again.
My heart has dried up
and I want to be free
of the emotions that
bind me to you.
I believed in good,
It proved to be false.
All that is left is a shell
That God forgot
He is the one that sent me to you.
But I became a cast off
In the very home that I lived
A second hand citizen. No! Worse then that!
I was lower then a slave.
Rebuked when I was happy
Rebuked when I was sad
Nothing I did was right.
I was often lost and searching
Waiting for someone to guide me.
Somehow I learned the truth
But it had nothing to do with you.
It was on my own efforts
that brought life’s lessons
learned the worst way possible.
With blood, bruises, and many a tear
I wept alone among an indifferent crowd.
Sometimes scorned and an object of wrath
I endured your heartless actions.
Yet I always hoped
and always believed
That what you did
was the best for me.
Oh, how wrong I was!
I swallowed the bitterness
Of an ach so large
That breathing became
Sometimes you saw
with that cruel glint in your eyes,
turning away you were satisfied.
Other times you looked away,
pretending that my pain didn’t exist.
So I struggled all alone
Unable to face the way you felt.
I blamed myself for all that was wrong,
When really it was you
who could have made it right.
Now my heart is numb.
I find that I just don’t care.
All I want is to be free
From the shame of being me.
I have read that God can turn
Ugliness into beauty.
But it seems once again I have missed
the hand that gives out blessing.
So instead I watch from afar,
others who have been loved and favored.
I used to beg for crumbs from the Master’s table.
Yet even the crumbs that fall to the ground
are much to good for me.
One thing I have now learned,
It is that life is forever cruel.
God’s foot is hard upon me,
just a worm beneath His feet.
It would have been better
had you never known me
Leave me alone, I beg of you.
all who once took notice of me.
I had reached to high
for what is not mine,
and will be punished for all eternity.
I will wander with a heart of stone
And curse the very breath I breath.
For it is wrong for one such as I
To live when the worthy die.
I will snarl, and hate, and be poison
to all who look on me!
An object of mockery, a vile being.
I will laugh back at you when you leave.
Saturday, 2 July 2011
as I spent time with friends so dear.
Then you came along, a gift unexpected.
A light lit up my heart, setting you apart.
Even before our greeting had ended
I knew you were extraordinary.
There was a magic in your presence
That touched me from across the world.
In eagerness I sought you
and felt my mind enlightened.
Your words touched my soul
And laughter flowed more freely.
Purple is the color that spilled forth
dazzling the eyes of my heart.
It flared into brilliance every time you came by.
A kindred spirit who danced with me.
Your light draws others toward you.
Words of poetry flow from your lips,
delighting our senses and inspiring,
binding us together with a ribbon of purple.
Purple is the color of the magic
That flows from you and surrounds us all.
Is it any wonder that I fell so hard
yet am swept up by your love.
Laughter, strength, and compassion
wrapped up with a gift so rare.
You are our Purple Poet, pure and true.
My treasure, you have my heart.
You are like a star from the heavens
Shining down on the earth below.
Even when other stars join you.
You light gives off the brightest glow.
This is the first of many poems for Octa. (I hope)
Even though he "lost" the duel, I feel he derserves a poem.
I hope you will check out his extrodinary poems and stories on his two epic blogs.