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 Posted: Thu Mar 04, 2010 10:23 pm
You don't have to comment, rate, whatever, you don't even have to read. I just like to post poems.
The wind propels me forward
Into the great beyond
A world where moon and sun beams
Mingle in the sky
A place where a single dewdrop
Throws color for a mile
A place where misery
Vanished in the air
Elysium
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Posted: Thu Mar 04, 2010 10:25 pm
I wish the words
That I type here
Had the power to fix everything
To make it all
Fit back together
And yet they don’t
I wish and wish
But try I might
Words have no power
Except all the power in the world
For they are sharp as arrows
And poisonous as darts
Yet they can’t do anything
But they can do everything
They ruin our lives
They ruin our hearts
Yet words cannot fix
Whatever they break
And cannot heal
Whatever they wound
The Powerful, Powerless Words
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Posted: Thu Mar 04, 2010 10:26 pm
How can one story
Be so tragic
Taking turns for the worst
At every fork
Never having a happy ending
Other than small trifles
Not enough to correct the fault
Of the road that is taken
How many of these silent fighters do we see a day
How many walk past us smiling
How many are breaking from the inside out
How many
How many
How many
Why do we shun them
Why do we accept their charade when we see the truth
Why
It’s not right of us
So why
Because we want to believe
That we are the victims
But they are the victims
The silent fighters
Shedding silent tears
Fighting silent battles
Saving us with their silent souls
They need us
But we think we need them
And the endless cycle stretched beyond
Again and again
The Silent Fighters, Their Silent Tears
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Posted: Thu Mar 04, 2010 10:27 pm
Things that no one seems to hear
Whisper softly to my ear
Finding me in the dawn-lit hour
While someone else would contemplate a shower
The thoughts of all the outcasts here
Around the world and many like deer
That sing the same old quiet tune
That probably was once written in rune
The quiet ones, the warrior warners
The silent could-be mourners
Somehow they’ve been silenced
Forced to bear witness to our violence
Have you counted up their tears?
There’s just as many as their fears
For every fear you hide at heart
You can be sure one of them shares it in part
The power the human being craves
Has forced so many to turn to wraiths
But these are the few, the pure
Perhaps they hold our forgotten cure?
Not many see something quite like this
No, their too busy pondering a kiss
But when you see through open eyes
The guardian angel beside you flies
But by seeing in this new perspective
You risk become quite the skeptic
Can the human race be good?
Well, they all know that they should
So now we come to a large conclusion
That you can see truth or illusion
But either way, the outcome’s grim
Because we all stand on this same rim
The world changes as we speak
Perhaps there will be a good change this week
But now look at all the sad
The miserable, the musty, and the bad
Are these people that we think of?
Because we see to be thinking of the rough
Gritty, gross, grotesque and grimy
Smelly, sulfurous, and slimy
These words more accurately describe
Something that we refuse to inscribe
The human soul, that mythical thing
The one people forget to bring
Can this world continue on?
When all we care for is tonight’s filet mignon
Save us! Save us! Someone please!
That’s what we cry, we might as well be fleas
Annoying, selfish, leaching slugs
That’s what we’ve become, simple rugs
And yet there were those silent few
Who watched the morning collect its dew
Untitled Poem
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Posted: Thu Mar 04, 2010 11:15 pm
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Reply
I appoint *you* Secretary of Cheese, and 
*you* Keeper of the Lint.