some words on a page...
poetry
is
an
anomaly.
words fail.
but we can try.
i can't inspire.
expectations...
insert coherent thought here. right...here
who wants to read some random peotry and help me choose the best one! alright, you way in the back. what do you think. bold=title
Stoop Kid
Sun shines
Music floats
Wind chimes
Child squeals
Cicada hums
Water laps
Lawnmower starts
An angry
Hibernating
Monster
Comes to life
Blood red eyes
Shining, sharp
Teeth
A roar that deafens,
Destroys silence,
Frightens peace
Sun warms
Music plays
Wind whispers
Child laughs
Cricket chirps
Fear forgotten
Symphonic Sounds
Slowly
Sound crescendos
My heart begins to pound
Building quarter, eighth, sixteenth notes
Rise. Fall.
Flutter,
Notes fly into
Hearts, minds, in small, bite size
Pieces. Saying what is often,
Too hard.
The Music of Thirteen
I’m finally thirteen,
Finally a teenager.
I’m finally at a Backstreet Boys concert.
This is unreal.
I must admit I didn’t have hope.
How could a band stay together for so long?
Well, they didn’t.
But, thank God for reunions!
Five years of waiting
Makes the day, oh so sweet
Even in the scorching heat.
The sun threatens to melt
The cement all around,
The plastic chairs
That I won’t sit in anyway.
Tick
Tock
Seven o’ clock.
Tst, tst, tst, tst
Ba-boom, ba-boom
Bwow, bwow, bwow wow
Bwow, wow wow wow
“Ha ha ha”
My heart speeds up.
I pinch my arm.
The picture and sound do not fade.
I stay standing.
Kevin,
Howie,
Nick,
AJ,
Brian
Take the stage.
My ears fill with the music,
The lyrics,
The love that was my childhood.
This is so much better than dreaming.
Five years of waiting
To hear those five voices
Sing the harmony
To the melody of my heart.
Chocolate Brown
He knocks quietly at my door
With small hands,
Meticulous
As a banker counting
Money in a safe
Day in.
Day out.
I see the kind,
Weathered face
That like a baseball glove
Has been through good and bad games.
With sure eyes
He draws me from slumber
And reminds me
Of my place in time.
Sunday
Tickles my chin
with warmth
And the taste of French toast
As light as a cloud.
His arm stretches across the chasm
Between a warm embrace of dreamland
And the sure,
steady,
love
That doesn’t need to be spoken.
Words fail
But eyes say all.
The warm chocolate brown
Forces all lies, untruths and insecurities
To melt away.
One thing is left:
Love
That can transform
A young, broken girl
Into a practically perfect princess.
Rental Boyfriend (A Found Poem)
I’ll be 28 this year
a normal age to be single,
but my parents back home
have been harassing me
every
day
to get married.
They know that
“people will think their daughter’s abnormal,
gossip that she might have some disease
and can’t get married.”
I promised I would bring home a boyfriend
for New Year’s, but
I’ve been too busy with work and
haven’t found one.
I don’t want to let my parents down,
so I’ve decided to rent a boyfriend
to come home with me.
Only a 10-day home stay.
Looking for:
educated, employed,
well-behaved,
between 5 feet 7 inches
and 5 feet 9 inches tall,
don’t be too skinny,
respect for elders--a must
glasses - a sign of erudition to Father - a plus,
possibility of ensuring the bloodline,
willing to politely endure
the nagging
of nosy parents who will
loudly and frequently
wonder why you
and I
have not yet settled down
and produced a grandchild
but
“We will not sleep together.”
crusade
A gun shot rings out
Shot heard ‘round the world
The battle begins
The only weapons are feet
And mind
Few bystanders line the grounds
But it’s just two young men,
Empty track,
A mile to prove
What must be shown
Words only go so far.
Steady breathing,
Hands move
Hip to chin
Hip to chin
Stride after stride
Inhale.
Exhale.
Bend knee
Drive foot forward
Speed up on the turn
Stride
Stride
Stride
Beep, beep.
Battle ends
As fast as it began
Four minutes
Is all it takes
To end a war.
Deception
Blonde hair flows in the gentle breeze.
Blue eyes twinkle as she smiles with ease.
All eyes follow her as she walks down the street,
So graceful no one can compete.
But beneath the beauty and charm
Lies a girl who does herself harm.
“Do they care about me?
Do I only matter if I’m pretty?”
Making food her foe,
She tries to create a wall, so that no one will know
The valedictorian,
Homecoming queen,
Varsity soccer captain,
Student Council president
Has imperfections, too.
Brown hair cropped close, a mohawk breaks the trend.
Dark raccoon eyes, dismal tunnels with no end.
Gazes stay fixed but glace away in a blink,
Afraid of piercings and permanent ink.
Peel away the outer shell
And underneath-- a surprising, sweet caramel.
She hums along to Mozart in her car,
Loves wishing on a shooting star,
Finds true joy in a good book.
But no one will know, for they only give one look.
Third in the class,
First chair violinist,
National Honor Society member,
Award winning dancer,
Will never be more than another
Crazy, rebellious punk.
Squeaky Clean
Soap.
Love.
One purchased
One discovered
One touched
One felt
Both
Burn like fire
Seek obscured cracks
Flow like streams toward the ocean
The sweet, strong, scent draws you in
Makes you stay
Unable to walk away
Without
A change.
Sighing Silence
Someone sighs as true love again is found
She wishes so deeply that she could be,
Someone singing of love without a sound.
He falls to his knees, face upon the ground
But then gains hope for he can always see
As someone sighs. True love again is found.
She leaves her wishes in a crumpled mound,
Resigns to life without the silent glee
Of someone singing of love without sound.
He lives as thoughts spin round and round and round
All telling him that he can never flee.
As someone sighs, true love again is found.
She feels as if she’s slowly being drowned,
Searching desp’rately for the only key--
Someone singing for love without a sound.
Eventually, they both do come around.
Two heavy hearts, from chains at last set free.
Someone sighs as true love again is found
Someone singing of love without a sound.
I pinky swear.
You see there’s this boy
(as it always begins)
He has stolen my heart.
Is he aware?
How could he not be?
I want to know…
Certainty scares me.
A beginning only leads to an
Ending.
I can barely speak,
Without
A stutter.
His eyes
His voice
His smile
He changes perfectly formed thoughts
Into incoherent babble with
The turn of his head.
Choose me,
Let me whisper
the words I long to say.
***
I want to be beautiful.
I want to be desired.
Maybe not even desired by you.
Just by someone.
I want love
But will settle for less,
In a skipped heartbeat.
365 days
365 chances
365 smiles,
Conversations
That I long for,
Thirst for,
Need.
Please,
Just grant me one wish,
I promise I won’t wish for three more,
I pinky swear.
I relish the pain you have caused
At least I can be sure of what I feel
You still have control
But not nearly as much
I need you--
To take control--
To take the lead
Let me know,
Exactly.
s-p-e-l-l
i-t
o-u-t
For me
So I can think
Straight.
but
I wanted to thank you
for teaching me
what it is to
truly love
someone other than
me.
Who? What? Where? Why? How?
I am bright yellow.
I run,
sprint,
fly.
I try
to divide
by zero.
I’m just as rational as pi.
I am ice cream
with chocolate jimmies.
I have a dream,
But I fling words
without
enough
thought.
I leap
to conclusions,
but too often I stay
within
|the lines|
Cracks and lines
of a sidewalk
inspire me--
to look past,
to love,
to see,
to speak
without
the
i n
s t a
b i l
i t y
of man’s curves and angles
of
phrases
that confine me.
I am imprisoned by expectations,
but I am set free,
unchained,
released
by the security of
brilliant,
pure,
yellow,
joy.
some are better than others...but please if you had to pick one to read again or the one with the most worth...which would you pick?
is
an
anomaly.
words fail.
but we can try.
i can't inspire.
expectations...
insert coherent thought here. right...here
who wants to read some random peotry and help me choose the best one! alright, you way in the back. what do you think. bold=title
Stoop Kid
Sun shines
Music floats
Wind chimes
Child squeals
Cicada hums
Water laps
Lawnmower starts
An angry
Hibernating
Monster
Comes to life
Blood red eyes
Shining, sharp
Teeth
A roar that deafens,
Destroys silence,
Frightens peace
Sun warms
Music plays
Wind whispers
Child laughs
Cricket chirps
Fear forgotten
Symphonic Sounds
Slowly
Sound crescendos
My heart begins to pound
Building quarter, eighth, sixteenth notes
Rise. Fall.
Flutter,
Notes fly into
Hearts, minds, in small, bite size
Pieces. Saying what is often,
Too hard.
The Music of Thirteen
I’m finally thirteen,
Finally a teenager.
I’m finally at a Backstreet Boys concert.
This is unreal.
I must admit I didn’t have hope.
How could a band stay together for so long?
Well, they didn’t.
But, thank God for reunions!
Five years of waiting
Makes the day, oh so sweet
Even in the scorching heat.
The sun threatens to melt
The cement all around,
The plastic chairs
That I won’t sit in anyway.
Tick
Tock
Seven o’ clock.
Tst, tst, tst, tst
Ba-boom, ba-boom
Bwow, bwow, bwow wow
Bwow, wow wow wow
“Ha ha ha”
My heart speeds up.
I pinch my arm.
The picture and sound do not fade.
I stay standing.
Kevin,
Howie,
Nick,
AJ,
Brian
Take the stage.
My ears fill with the music,
The lyrics,
The love that was my childhood.
This is so much better than dreaming.
Five years of waiting
To hear those five voices
Sing the harmony
To the melody of my heart.
Chocolate Brown
He knocks quietly at my door
With small hands,
Meticulous
As a banker counting
Money in a safe
Day in.
Day out.
I see the kind,
Weathered face
That like a baseball glove
Has been through good and bad games.
With sure eyes
He draws me from slumber
And reminds me
Of my place in time.
Sunday
Tickles my chin
with warmth
And the taste of French toast
As light as a cloud.
His arm stretches across the chasm
Between a warm embrace of dreamland
And the sure,
steady,
love
That doesn’t need to be spoken.
Words fail
But eyes say all.
The warm chocolate brown
Forces all lies, untruths and insecurities
To melt away.
One thing is left:
Love
That can transform
A young, broken girl
Into a practically perfect princess.
Rental Boyfriend (A Found Poem)
I’ll be 28 this year
a normal age to be single,
but my parents back home
have been harassing me
every
day
to get married.
They know that
“people will think their daughter’s abnormal,
gossip that she might have some disease
and can’t get married.”
I promised I would bring home a boyfriend
for New Year’s, but
I’ve been too busy with work and
haven’t found one.
I don’t want to let my parents down,
so I’ve decided to rent a boyfriend
to come home with me.
Only a 10-day home stay.
Looking for:
educated, employed,
well-behaved,
between 5 feet 7 inches
and 5 feet 9 inches tall,
don’t be too skinny,
respect for elders--a must
glasses - a sign of erudition to Father - a plus,
possibility of ensuring the bloodline,
willing to politely endure
the nagging
of nosy parents who will
loudly and frequently
wonder why you
and I
have not yet settled down
and produced a grandchild
but
“We will not sleep together.”
crusade
A gun shot rings out
Shot heard ‘round the world
The battle begins
The only weapons are feet
And mind
Few bystanders line the grounds
But it’s just two young men,
Empty track,
A mile to prove
What must be shown
Words only go so far.
Steady breathing,
Hands move
Hip to chin
Hip to chin
Stride after stride
Inhale.
Exhale.
Bend knee
Drive foot forward
Speed up on the turn
Stride
Stride
Stride
Beep, beep.
Battle ends
As fast as it began
Four minutes
Is all it takes
To end a war.
Deception
Blonde hair flows in the gentle breeze.
Blue eyes twinkle as she smiles with ease.
All eyes follow her as she walks down the street,
So graceful no one can compete.
But beneath the beauty and charm
Lies a girl who does herself harm.
“Do they care about me?
Do I only matter if I’m pretty?”
Making food her foe,
She tries to create a wall, so that no one will know
The valedictorian,
Homecoming queen,
Varsity soccer captain,
Student Council president
Has imperfections, too.
Brown hair cropped close, a mohawk breaks the trend.
Dark raccoon eyes, dismal tunnels with no end.
Gazes stay fixed but glace away in a blink,
Afraid of piercings and permanent ink.
Peel away the outer shell
And underneath-- a surprising, sweet caramel.
She hums along to Mozart in her car,
Loves wishing on a shooting star,
Finds true joy in a good book.
But no one will know, for they only give one look.
Third in the class,
First chair violinist,
National Honor Society member,
Award winning dancer,
Will never be more than another
Crazy, rebellious punk.
Squeaky Clean
Soap.
Love.
One purchased
One discovered
One touched
One felt
Both
Burn like fire
Seek obscured cracks
Flow like streams toward the ocean
The sweet, strong, scent draws you in
Makes you stay
Unable to walk away
Without
A change.
Sighing Silence
Someone sighs as true love again is found
She wishes so deeply that she could be,
Someone singing of love without a sound.
He falls to his knees, face upon the ground
But then gains hope for he can always see
As someone sighs. True love again is found.
She leaves her wishes in a crumpled mound,
Resigns to life without the silent glee
Of someone singing of love without sound.
He lives as thoughts spin round and round and round
All telling him that he can never flee.
As someone sighs, true love again is found.
She feels as if she’s slowly being drowned,
Searching desp’rately for the only key--
Someone singing for love without a sound.
Eventually, they both do come around.
Two heavy hearts, from chains at last set free.
Someone sighs as true love again is found
Someone singing of love without a sound.
I pinky swear.
You see there’s this boy
(as it always begins)
He has stolen my heart.
Is he aware?
How could he not be?
I want to know…
Certainty scares me.
A beginning only leads to an
Ending.
I can barely speak,
Without
A stutter.
His eyes
His voice
His smile
He changes perfectly formed thoughts
Into incoherent babble with
The turn of his head.
Choose me,
Let me whisper
the words I long to say.
***
I want to be beautiful.
I want to be desired.
Maybe not even desired by you.
Just by someone.
I want love
But will settle for less,
In a skipped heartbeat.
365 days
365 chances
365 smiles,
Conversations
That I long for,
Thirst for,
Need.
Please,
Just grant me one wish,
I promise I won’t wish for three more,
I pinky swear.
I relish the pain you have caused
At least I can be sure of what I feel
You still have control
But not nearly as much
I need you--
To take control--
To take the lead
Let me know,
Exactly.
s-p-e-l-l
i-t
o-u-t
For me
So I can think
Straight.
but
I wanted to thank you
for teaching me
what it is to
truly love
someone other than
me.
Who? What? Where? Why? How?
I am bright yellow.
I run,
sprint,
fly.
I try
to divide
by zero.
I’m just as rational as pi.
I am ice cream
with chocolate jimmies.
I have a dream,
But I fling words
without
enough
thought.
I leap
to conclusions,
but too often I stay
within
|the lines|
Cracks and lines
of a sidewalk
inspire me--
to look past,
to love,
to see,
to speak
without
the
i n
s t a
b i l
i t y
of man’s curves and angles
of
phrases
that confine me.
I am imprisoned by expectations,
but I am set free,
unchained,
released
by the security of
brilliant,
pure,
yellow,
joy.
some are better than others...but please if you had to pick one to read again or the one with the most worth...which would you pick?