Welcome to Gaia! ::

Sorry I have to dig up my poems...

What? You can post whatever the hell you want, I don't care. Just make sure it stays within the regulations. Which means if you don't, they're gonna bust my a** so hard that they garnish my turrets. OK I got one;
This is called Hatred, basically after a break-up.
I don't know why,
I don't care why,
she can lie to herself,
but I'll never just be fine,
you'd think it'd never end,
but just like money you'll find you spend,
on all of life's great moments,
but yet again it just depends,
on all the hatred that you keep,
all the envy that you sweep, under the rug hidden so deep.

Number two;
The title is Life. I thought about writing this as I was remembering all the times I could have died.
Voices in the hall,
people everywhere,
some are not so smart,
yet they still follow their heart.
I have never heard,
something so absurd,
as my life ending so short.
So I try to make the best,
be better than the rest,
set myself away from them.
This is still my life,
not for the taking.

Number three;
It's called War. I wrote this thinking about the war in Iraq and war everywhere.
War, the ultimate battle,
fought usually for a small cause,
or even over cattle,
some say it's right,
the to stand tall and fight,
but look at the light does might make right?

Number four
I'll admit, I had one of those things for a girl at school where you'd want to talk but you couldn't. We became friends but she was a grade above me so I think I'll never see her again. I wrote this piece for Hannah, the girl who I told you about. The One.
I gazed upon that bug bright shine,
for in my head it's one big chime,
all beautiful things come in line,
with her in front,
dressed and fine.
I care for her much,
her heart,
life,
and such.
Although she may not know it,
I would gladly bestow it.
It doesn't matter if she'll choose me,
or even if she'll lose me.
She'll stay inside my heart,
the one who never used me.

Five.
This is a piece for Karen, my good friend, she's a classmate of mine. Funny and Chinese to boot! As some of you may not know, I'm Chinese and German. Anyways the poem is called Her.
From the seconds I gazed at her,
I could not try to flatter,
the thought of me together,
with the girl who always matters.
For too long we never realize,
just how blind we can be,
or how clear we can see.
I try to tell you now,
but I can't really tell you how,
I'm neither blind or clear,
but love does not blind me.

Damn Brandon, thats deep. Ok, heres one I did recently:

Accepted

Amungst the flowerbed, she is but a weed,
Among prettier flowers, filled with greed.
The roses show off their lucious red petals,
with such arrogant ease.
The bluebells rock back and forth
In the oh so gentle breeze.
They all stare down at her, glaring.
Even the passerby take to staring,
Not once thinking about caring,
About that one lonely, oh so lonely weed.

Then one day, a young boy walked by.
He looked at the flowerbed and thought Why?
Why is it that these flowers
Stare down at the weed?
Do they not see, that it also
Came from a seed?
It is just like them, beautiful in its own way.
Yet here they stand in the bright of day,
Not even caring once to say
"Hello" to that one lonely, oh so lonely weed.

And so, the boy picked up weed and dirt in his hands.
Being as careful, as gentle as one can.
He took the weed away,
Away from the flowerbed.
And all the other flowers,
Together they said
"Why was she picked amung the rest?
For we all know that she far is from the best
That one pathetic, oh so pathetic weed"

And they sat there wondering.
The thought they sat there pondering.
As the boy placed the weed
In a different spot.
But this one was filled with weeds,
Weeds, all the way to the top.
They spoke to her with kindness,
The kind all those flowers, mindless,
Would not speak from their highness,
To that one lonely, oh so lonely weed.

The boy winked, and smiled.
For that one lonely weed, all it took was a child.
A simple child, no more,
No less,
To show her how to conquer
That everlasting lonliness.
Now in her own flowerbed,
Amongst her own kind, it can be said,
That that weed now feels accepted,
That one happy, oh so happy weed.

I call it... LAMP TABLE. Although it's basically meaningless, it was actually quite a challenge to write. This was designed to be pure rhetoric, amusing on a phonetic level and fun to read out loud.

Lamp table
Lamp table
Lamp table vacuum cleaner

Lamp table
Lamp table
Lamp table vacuum cleaner

Table tater regulator
Bathroom beater water-heater
Diaper dresser food-processor
Salad skeeter odor-eater

Laundry locket bedroom closet
Horseshoe hazmat laquered placemat
Tennis tomcat boring chitchat
Waffle wombat crunchy porkfat

Lamp table
Lamp table
Lamp table vacuum cleaner

Bismol Borax stash of Ex-Lax
Counter cupcakes berry pancakes
Salsa Sex-wax tube of Carmex
Rubix red bricks roll of plastics

Paper pullups fruity rollups
Hairbrush hubcaps spinach leaf-wraps
Lemons lineups clockwork windups
Checkers cheesedips tiny fruit-pips

Lamp table
Lamp table
Lamp table vacuum cleaner

Lamp table
Lamp table
Lamp table vacuum cleaner


Note: "Mr. Zog's Sex Wax" was a surfboard wax sold in the 70's. It had nothing to do with sex; the name was designed to get the product to sell.

broken down by the sands of time
decays the body of a mime
blood slowly trickling out
he struggles with a life or death bout
but being a mime he was only lyin'
so a child kicked him in a shin

made by me

This one doesnt rhyme...but I got the idea when I found a balloon with a letter attatched to it.

FATE

Have you ever tied a letter to a balloon and let go?
There's no telling where it's going, where it may end up,
Or the people it may find.
It all depends...on the wind.
Blowing this way and that way, wherever it pleases.
It blows the balloon to its final destination.....unknown.

So, have you ever tied a letter to a balloon and let go?
Though you may not know it, you already have.
Your life is that balloon, and the wind that blows it, is fate.
Who knows? It may take you to wonderous places.
It could lead you to that one special person you've been looking for,
In hopes that they'd write back.
Or, on the other hand, it could lead you to disaster.
Like the wind, blowing the balloon towards a bush of thorns.
Then, just as you thought it was just beginning, it ends.

But like the wind, you can't control fate.
Whatever happens, happens.
So sieze the day, live life to the fullest.
Take the time to smell the flowers.
And if you get the chance to do something worth while,
Grab it.
Before fate blows that chance away.

I may not get to see you as often as I'd like.
I may not get to hold you in my arms all through the night.
But deep in my heart I truly know,
You're the one that I love and I can't let you go.