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CUinChina

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Posted: Wed Sep 17, 2008 4:49 pm

The Poetry story

Ok, so I have had a bad habit of stealing art in the past (thank goodness thats over), but I do write my own stories and poetry. This thread is for my poems. I've been a poet for five total years, but I've been recognized for my 'poetic talent' for only four years by school literary contests and online sites and blogs. My biggest moments (Which was at the begining of the four years) were when I sumbitted one of my first poems to an online poetry contest and it was published in Immortal Verses, a book of poetry (the poetry made by ametuer poets) made by the International Society of Poets. I am now a VIP member of the society and have been sending in poems every year since then (And all of them have gotten published. Yay!). And just the other day, another major publishing company wants to publish one of my un-published poems for international eyes to see (The International Society of poets are only publishing my poems nationwide at the moment.).

The Downfall

Unfortunately, my life isn't all splendor and glamour -- it's actually pretty pitiful; I live in a 300 year old, two story house that about to crash and has many types of strange bugs (maybe even some that haven't been named yet. o,..,o) crawling all over the place. Also, in every house that I have lived in, its always haunted. The house I lived in when I was in kindergarten had three ghosts that I have personally seen (it was an intelligent haunting. Sorry, junior ghost hunter speaking). Then I moved into an old bar (thank goodness that we renevated it to be more family friendly, even though I miss those granite countertops...) that is haunted by my own stepdad, and now I live in this old house with an old woman that used to own the place and allowed train engineers and coal miners rest there a long time ago. She's nice. Sometimes, if you listen carefully enough, you can hear her talking to you in the middle of the night about how she loved this old house. We even have her old rocker that she sits in and rocks back and forth in a whole lot.

The Rules

1.) No Spamming.
2.) No using my poetry as your own. Its ALL Copyrighted to my name. PM and ask me if you may use it for any certain purpose and please state what that purpose is first-hand.
3.) I have right to add additional rules if necessary.
4.) Have fun!

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Posted: Wed Sep 17, 2008 5:03 pm

The Poetry
Here's the actual poetry that I promised. I will post as much of the poetry that I can in this post, so check in often!

The Ghost

The blood red moon
Cannot be seen by human eyes.
The one that can see it, has a heart as black as the night skies.
I will always remember that night
When I came into his sight.
He came at me with all his force
As if trying to find a source.

He stopped at least three feet away
As if there were a giant wall in his way.
He disappeared, then I saw the blood red moon
Right over Park Masoon.
Park Masoon was the town graveyard.
The ground there was packed hard.
There, atop the hill, dated 1999,
Was the grave of twenty-year-old Jason McKline.

Snow White Rose

Just a simple white rose.
Yet, the winter is the only time it grows.
High above the snow,
Its petals are never low.

Its petals glow beneath the moon.
Butterflies dance round it as Spring was soon.
Its petals fall.
it will never be as tall
As it was this Winter.
The tree's may splinter,
The birdas may come to the call,
But we will see the white bud next fall.

Haven

I'm ready to fly,
Over the mountains,
Over the oceans,
Across the clear blue sky.

I'm waiting to spread my wings
So I no longer have to cry
Because of that which binds me
Here on Earth.

I'm ready to fly,
Over the valleys,
Over the meadows,
Through the starlit night.

I'm flying,
Across the clear blue sky,
Through the starlit night,
Away from Pain and Death,
Toward Hope and a new life in Heaven;
The haven for the Hopeless and the Hopeful.

The Light of Day

Oh, how my heart yearns
For that bright, serene sky.
Yet, I am caught and chained.
I am confined to the darkness that surrounds me.

Hate and Darkness.
No matter how much I wish to be rid of them,
They always come back,
When I think of the sun.

Now I see a small glow.
My chains and bonds loosen.
As I reach for it,
I feel its warmth.

The glow brightens and the chains fall away.
I scramble towards it,
Its light and warmth guiding me
Toward the light of Day

As I break through,
I squint and look about.
I am finally here.
I stretch and reach for the sun.

My thoughts.
My thoughts were my hope,
My heaven,
My light of Day.

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CUinChina

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CUinChina

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Posted: Wed Sep 17, 2008 5:07 pm

The Updates

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