Here is a thread dedicated to my work as a writer. This thread will mostly be filled with my poems which vary in theme but I try to fashion myself after my favourite poet T.S Eliot, who I believed captured human nature in his words. I aspire to do the same. Please feel free wo citique and review my work. However, simply saying "I like it" is not good enough, as a writer I must grow and develop so I beg you readers to give me a reason as to why or why not you liked the poem. To start off I shall provide you with one of my personal favourties.
These Are The Boring Bits
Call life what you will, A joke, A curse, A gift, An adventure. Take from it what you will, Joy, Sorrow, Love, Hate. Lose yourself in it Find your purpose Or, Find nothing at all.
A man asked, "What is the meaning of life?" A woman told him, "Whatever you make it to be." A child asked, "Is god real?" A parent told them, "Only you can decide."
Personal opinion is what we use to guide us, The opinions of others are what lose us. We can never be certain That we are certain of anything Because of change, And because things stay the same. What makes sense one day, Will confuse us another, And so it goes on. People tell others to: Get in line, Grow up, Get our lives straight, Who told these people these things? And why tell us the things that broke them?
Is it human nature to be unhappy?
Two men sit on a bench, In a park, Under a tree. They talk about family and friends They talk about work and dreams. One man says, "It is a waste of time to dream," The other says, "Yes, but to have dreams is not." Dreams are what the world is made of Bad dreams, Good dreams, Lost dreams.
Hope is never far off, As the old die, The young are born, The young grow, They become old, The old die. But while they are young, They change the world. Some for the better, Others for the worse.
Inspiration is a dream.
The only inspiration in life is life: What to do? How to do it? Can we change the world? How to change the world? Is there purpose? Are we real? Or a figment of imagination? All questions do not need answers.
Call life what you will, These are the boring bits.
From all outward appearances I have let go of your bittersweet point. If only the inside shone through Past the masks I wear in my daily facade. My eyes hold a truth that view recognize. A desire to be known and loved. A hope that somehow someone will fill this void. You do not call anymore, you send no word. To you I am your past, and that means nothing. You always moved onward to something new, Never to look back. Where as I, am trapped in an unrelenting maelstrom Of emotion and past memories. That haunt me. These words, meant for you, the one I hold dear, The one I love with every thing I possess in my heart. They shall never be read. Not by you. As the years continue onward, I will always look back. I will regret losing you. Even if it was not I Who turned away. But it was I who let you go. But I never let go of you. So, why did you let go of me?
Roll along with the waves of today And wash up on the shores of yesterday A sun is setting over the palm Never has the sea been this calm. A plate of glass reflecting the sun Over head clouds drift, the day is done. Sailing boats and a trip to Mars Across the world and into the stars. Where everything is daffodils and honeycomb Whoever said you can never go home? Off to a world of make believe And see all of the dreams that we can weave.
Children dancing with gingerbread men No more of, that was then. Letâs just have a world of the past glories And witness once more those bedtime stories. Just sit back and watch the clouds sail by In this world of candy trees and buttermilk sky. A world of wonders we hold dear In desperate times of pain and fear. Take my hand and come with me Weâll make sand-angels by the sea. Donât ever let them tell you to grow up Because adulthood is a bitter cup. Just remember the childhood things And all the joys that it brings.
**This is an older poem. I've decided to start posting some of my work I do off site, mostly older pieces, so that any who read this can note the changes in my style.
Upon my right hand lies a sword Bathed in the blood of those who Stood in my path. To my left rests the Lady. She who holds the sceptre of this throne. The Lord who cuts and the Lady who heals. We are Tragedy and Joy.
I'm not entirely sure what you consider a proper review, so even if I do badly, do I get half a cookie? I do like the simplicity of it. It reads well, and I love how you personified (is that right?) Tragedy and Joy into the Lord and Lady. If there's one thing I would change (because I know how you love criticism :P) is the second to last line. It's really good, but it's not as good as the other ones. DX
He would give anything just to See her smile one more time. But it's too late as she drives away, Tail-lights burnin' down the street.
He said, "I need a friend 'Cause I'm all alone again. And I don't think I will make Through the night.
Chorus
Because you said You were the one to turn to And the to help me up When I'm down again.
Without you here I don't think I'll last long, But I'll try to be strong Until tomorrow comes.
Verse 2
He walked inside and started drinkin'. If only to stop himself from thinkin' Of all those memories he had When him and her were just glad They had a hand to hold.
And as the bottle of whiskey was downed He stumbled upstairs half drowned To the desk, where kept his best Of all the words he wrote.
Chorus
Because you said You were the one to turn to And the to help me up When I'm down again.
Without you here I don't think I'll last long, But I'll try to be strong Until tomorrow comes.
Verse 3
Well he didn't last for too long By the end of the month he was long gone. With an empty bottle, and a gun He wrote his final run...
He said, "I need a friend 'Cause I'm all alone again. And I don't think I will make Through the night.
Chorus
Because you said You were the one to turn to And the to help me up When I'm down again.
Without you here I don't think I'll last long, But I'll try to be strong Until tomorrow comes.
I never tried to be The man you saw. Wavering, unsteady. It's how things fell out. I wanted to be The man you were supposed to see. Steadfast, unwavering.
You took your time; I hurried up. Drawing my pretty lines. Day by day. In and out. We drifted. I grasped. Coward, I. Fearful of voices Filled with a hate filled past.
I never admitted To being any less Than who I already was. I never admitted To being any more Than who I already am. What did you expect? I'm not perfect And, neither are you.
So take your time. I'll hurry up. Drawing my pretty lines Day by day. In and out. Maybe I'll succeed this time. Cut this bond of you and I. Maybe I'll escape And draw a perfect little cage. And lock away all my fears and tears. For once, finding peace.
Ahhhhhhhhhh the lyrics are freaking amazing. Not from different stand point, but a writers and music lovers standpoint they are awesome.
I dug out my acoustic guitar for that one. The strings were shot, needed tuning. Took me forever to rememeber the chords, and get it tuned right. I can't play worth a d*mn, but I tried.
Liquid night speak to me. Whisper your secret heart As I wander upon this shoreline, Trapped within memory. The dew kiss of the stars o'erhead Draw the sand around my bare toes. Like cool kisses from a lover, Half forgotten in wayward dreams. Softly does this win blow, Seductively does the water lap, Beckoning. Testing my will. And the night moves on. The night moves on...
