| Author | Message |
|---|
riot reality
Jazz Hands
Age: 28
Gender: Female
Posts: 295 | June 13th, 2009 at 07:55am
Okay, so, shortly after this first post of rambling, I shall begin putting my poems here. So bear with me till then? x3
Okay, so, yeah. People get to see inside the dark depths of my binder, which until now has never been open to the public eye.
I was debating about this for a while. After finally understanding the rules, I've been arguing with myself for about a week on weather or not I should start this topic... and then I thought, "eh, why not?" And so, here we are.
Poetry is one of my coping stratagies, and that is why you will find very few "happy poems" here, because, well... When you have to cope, there's something wrong. Putting my mind to writing a poem gets my thoughts away from whatever it is that's bugging me; I just focus on the rhythm and rhyme... It's really quite a beautiful distraction.
Also, some of my poems are not written about me, or anyone I know for that matter. I have this vision, of writing all these poems (and maybe one day turning them into songs?) about different people and their stories... And eventually, I'll have so many, that whenever something goes wrong for someone, they'll almost always have something that they can relate to. Because when I find a song or something that describes what I'm going through, it helps me. I want to be able to do the same thing for someone else. I have dubbed this as my "Project Relate".
I hope you all find some enjoyment in reading my poetry. I think I might even try and explain it, too. I've always wanted to do that... have a poem, and then go into this in-depth explanation of it, the meanings, what was going through my head at the time, why I wrote it, all side-by-side with the poem... Always wanted to do that. So, yeah, I probably will.
But, yeah. Enjoy it and stuffs. I'll post my first poem in a bit... Just thought an introduction would be nice :] Feel free to post to this if you want to say something. Or PM me. I'd really love to hear what you think about my writings.
So, onwards! |
riot reality
Jazz Hands
Age: 28
Gender: Female
Posts: 295 | June 13th, 2009 at 04:33pm First poem posted *GASP!* Hope you all like it... if anyone out there is reading... xD This was written in April 2009. Not sure about the exact date, but it was either early or mid month, because at the end of the month the little problem was solved. So, here goes:
------
The Serpent's Son
I wish you could see what's going on in my head
I wish you could see how I wish I were dead
I hope you know this is all on you
I hope you know my words are true
And I guess that maybe you should probably know
That without you here I am getting to my lowest low
And yeah, I dare you to
So show me if their claims are true
'Cause you're doused in blue and I'm painted red
And honestly, I can't seem to get you out of my head
You're under my skin
And I'm about to give in
But I think this is all just your game
And the serpent's son hasn't a shame
So try and learn sobriety
'Cause functioning brains don't want me
Will you ignore this or take it back?
Well send your fires to line my track
We'll go head-to-head, just one-on-one
'Cause seriously now, this just isn't fun
------
I have the meaning all typed up and everything... but I'm not sure as to weather or not I want to add it... Grr. But, yeah, here's my first posted poem on INO! |
riot reality
Jazz Hands
Age: 28
Gender: Female
Posts: 295 | June 13th, 2009 at 11:17pm This is one of the first poems I ever wrote that I wasn't forced to write for school. Which was sometime last year. Tada:
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She Doesn't Know
Staring at her scared reflection
Broken from so much rejection
Dying and needing protection
She is lost and heading in the wrong direction
A soul burdened with misery's infection
Her agony hidden just out of detection
And she doesn't know she holds his affection
For in his eyes she is perfection
------
Yeah, I found my old binder. Most of it was shit, but there were a few saveable things, like this poem. |
kings of leon.
Always Born a Crime
Age: 31
Gender: Female
Posts: 6213 | June 15th, 2009 at 11:45am Hello there : )
First of all I want to say congratulations on starting this thread seeing as it took so much deliberation for you to do, I understand that completely. I was exactly the same when if first posted, I can't even remember how long ago. And your writing reminds me of my own when I started out and I can just see the potential you have here. The Serpent's Son is a really great title for a start, drags you in to it. And you really get across the emotion you want to portray, but I think you start out on some really great ideas but they don't really get developed. Maybe you could try playing around with structure and getting some more imagery in to properly convey what it is your trying to say, develop the ideas so everyone reading can get a sense of what you're feeling. But as I said, for some reason you caught my eye and I think if you focus less on rhyme and free things up a bit it'll help you along. Keep writing and you'll naturally get better and better. Hope this was at least a little helpful : ) |
riot reality
Jazz Hands
Age: 28
Gender: Female
Posts: 295 | June 15th, 2009 at 04:24pm Thank you, kings of leon. =D "The Serpent's Son" actually refers to a person; Lucifer, the devil, the serpent... supposedly his son's name is Damien... I know a Damien xPP So, that was a much less obvious and much more, poetic, way of saying it =p
I don't know why I never get my ideas fully out... Whenever I'm writing, it's when I need to deal with something; it's a coping method of sorts. I try to focus a lot on the rhythm and rhyme so I can get my mind off whatever's wrong. I guess I should like, do that, then when I'm feeling better, go back and edit. When I'm first writing it, it's just whatever first pops into my head that will work there, really. Seriously, one time I wrote a line "so replace proverbs with the proclaimed holy day", to represent band names that wrote songs that I used to describe the situation xDD
But, yeah, thank you =D |
kings of leon.
Always Born a Crime
Age: 31
Gender: Female
Posts: 6213 | June 15th, 2009 at 05:28pm Well like I said, great title. And yeah maybe that'd be a good method, get your raw ideas down and flesh 'em out a bit. And hey, imo, all the best poems stem from great one liners. I find myself writing verse after verse, elaborating on just one random line that got into my head. Anyway, look forward to seeing what else you've got : ) |
riot reality
Jazz Hands
Age: 28
Gender: Female
Posts: 295 | June 16th, 2009 at 07:22am I've actually been working on a poem like that for about a month and a half. It's main purpose is to tell a story, but also to get out each emotion I was feeling at each moment in the story... It'll be wicked sweet when I finish it, it's the longest one I've written by far, and I think it'll be a pretty big step...
But, yeah, while I'm here, I think I'll put up another poem. So, yeah, tada?
------
Okay, so this one's from way earlier this year. I hate to admit it, but, it was when I was hurting myself. Figured I'd just say it, because well... people'll notice anyway. I haven't in a few months though. So, yeah... 
------
Like A Torn Painting Still In It's Frame
She can feel the looks, each curious stare
But she won't talk to people who don't care
Are they trying to get her to take the bait?
Are they trying to fill her up with hate?
Just treat this like a game
But be sure to remember to take some blame
‘Cause you’re filling her with a shame that she just wants to declaim
And no matter what you proclaim it is still all the same
This is all clouding up her head
This is all the million tears that she shed
And all their laughs and ridicule
Just become the fuel and tool
When they see each cut and take in each wound
Do they see how bad she was ruined?
They don’t even take time to try and care
So what if that’s another human life right there?
“We’ll just help take it away,
We’ll just help to lead her astray.”
Time for taunting and time for daunting
Time for mocking and time for knocking
They never see how far they’re going
So ignorantly unknowing
And she’s never showing and the blood is always flowing
They just can’t see that they go too far
All they care about is finding the next scar
Of course she’s more bizarre now that you don’t know where those are
“No, don’t wanna change, don’t wanna let them see,
They’ll only make this harder for me.”
And that, my friend, is a guarantee
And so they saw and so once again she’s hooked to that claw
So now they all can let her see that she is so very weak
So now there will be another wound for each insult that they speak
Because they don't care so why should she?
If she died who's fault would it be?
That’s a toss-up
Wonder what they’d think, should she drain the cup
But she doesn’t want this to show
Everyone would see when she’s that far below
So she cries alone, so no one knows
She hides it all to decompose
------
So, right there, I tried to take some advice. It started out as a ten line poem and now it's fourty lines. (Woah, that's 4x the amount.) But yeah... I tried to elaborate on each part and I tried to remember just what I was feeling then (I mean, this was around November 2008, kinda hard to remember). Tell me how I did?
Oh, and when I was looking through the smilies, I found this...
And I love cows (when I move out, I'm moving to the country to get a pet cow x3), so I just had to put that there. Now, I've gotta go take my Global Studdies final exam... wish me luck  ...  (Wow, these smilies are fun.) |
riot reality
Jazz Hands
Age: 28
Gender: Female
Posts: 295 | June 23rd, 2009 at 01:32pm I'm baaa~aaack!
Wow, I'm sorry it took me so long...  *Is ashamed*
Annnnyywaaaaaayy. I has poem! It's one of the "Project Relate" ones. (If you don't know what my "Project Relate" is, please delete yourself read my first post.) Also, this is the second time that I wrote a poem totally with Internal Rhyme, so keep that in mind.
So, the Point Of View is of a teenage boy. I'm thinking around seventeen years old. He's basically... I dunno... a "I dress in dark clothes and everyone either ignores me, laughs at me, or punches me in the nose" type deal. So, this is the story of him getting fed up with it all, and ending it all. And, it's about how he sees how much of a fucking idiotic dick move that was. Um... Enjoy!
------
A Bitter Farewell (June 5, 2009)
Part of Project Relate
These pills got me high but I’m really just waiting to die
Nobody will care because nobody’s ever there
So it’s time to shed built up tears and get taken over by hidden fears
Then I’m gonna boast for being a ghost
It’s fitting ‘cause no one could see that standing right there was me
Just look right through while I swore to get revenge on you
There’s a promise that’s long gone even though you did me wrong
Made my life a living hell then laughed every time that I fell
But you get to see another day while I get to decay
Guess that’s good too but I’ll be sure to freaking haunt you
And no one cared ‘cause no one ever dared
So just search my arms and then set off the alarms
Life is tough and that wasn’t just a bluff
The pills are kicking in and yeah, I’m gonna win
But then someone came around wanting me off the ground
And somehow I clearly recall a sweet whispering of “please don’t fall”
She said “just stand up tall, I don’t care-- you could even crawl”
She said “if you don’t make it then I won’t be able to fake it”
Why was she doing this and what the heck was with that kiss
Was this all just a joke, no, soon enough again she spoke
She told me that she could and did see through and that she never had the guts to say “I love you”
“So please don’t go because I’ll miss you more than you could know”
I tried to reach out, tried to push past the doubt
So she cheered, there’s effort, but my death had neared
And see I hadn’t moved and an idiot I’ve been proved
Because someone cared after all and all that I could do was bawl
She held me hand and tried to help me up to stand
But I was gone, and I had been wrong
And my death came with a bam and it didn’t have to ‘cause someone actually gave a damn
Yeah, someone gave a damn for me and I’m sure this killed her to see
But she stayed there with a tearful stare
Kept our fingers locked as out of life I clocked
She held me while I died, as we both just sat there and cried
Then I was no more, and I couldn’t remember what I’d done this for
------
So, like it? I don't know, I have a feeling of ambivalence towards this one. But I'd love to hear what you think. Pretty, pretty please with sugar on top? |
riot reality
Jazz Hands
Age: 28
Gender: Female
Posts: 295 | June 25th, 2009 at 05:11am Hello again. I had to babysit the kid next door earlier today... scratch that, early yesterday xD He sat there and played an RPG on their laptop, so I got my binder and, well, here's the product of yesterday afternoon; just a little shorty poem:
------
They All Sang It But Didn't See (June 24th, 2009.)
Like a cable pressured with too much weight
She is pushed down by the power of her hate
And because this hook has nowhere it can cling to secure
Her darker emotions can drive away whatever is left pure
So just as the snapping rope she followed in suite
Now we end this epiphany like the sudden allegro of the flute
------
Feedback is love, people, love. |
riot reality
Jazz Hands
Age: 28
Gender: Female
Posts: 295 | July 1st, 2009 at 03:24pm Once Upon A Time… (July 1st, 2009.)
She’s clinging to a pencil and a sheet of paper
Because she doesn’t want the passion to taper
Oh, because a verse a day might keep the insanity away
She misses the ditzy days with her beau of a knife
She’s about to bend, ‘bout to break when faced with this strife
So she watches all of their harangues and tries to stay away from fangs
Can anyone out there hear her scream?
Does anyone out there see that things are to the extreme?
And if she’s left alone all her efforts will be blown
His only hope is staying popular
So everyone else better beware
Now get ready to see some masks and never question the sighting of flasks
Nobody’s happy because he just can’t excel
Pushed him too hard and you got a rebel
And he’s hoping that his status might push away that stratus
The scars, scabs and burns
Is it really the acceptance that he yearns?
And he uses the excuse of too many drugs and too much booze
So maybe they are a good match
And maybe there won’t ever be a catch
‘Cause they’re both a little crazed so it must be good that their bond was reappraised
And a good pair they make indeed
This relationship has nothing left to exceed
And now everything just feels right and there’s always a way to win the fight
Well maybe happy endings do exist
Maybe there is a reason to persist
And maybe there is someone out there who is just waiting to show that they care
Yeah, maybe, just maybe
But I can’t give you any sort of guarantee
------
Just something quickish that I did, well, kinda quick... I dunno. Started it a while ago and just finished it. What do you think? |
Your Ghost.
Thinking Happy Thoughts
Age: 27
Gender: Female
Posts: 440 | July 1st, 2009 at 04:43pm I really liked that poem. Keep up the amazing work, I really hope to see much much more. |
riot reality
Jazz Hands
Age: 28
Gender: Female
Posts: 295 | July 1st, 2009 at 05:02pm Oh, win! \o/ Thankies youzz for the little comment. That seriously made my day. And yeah, there will be more. I have one that I finished a couple days ago that I like, and I just need to look over it a bit. So that one should be up soon, too. |
riot reality
Jazz Hands
Age: 28
Gender: Female
Posts: 295 | July 3rd, 2009 at 02:58pm This is crap. Total, complete crap. But I wrote this, so I figured, why not update?
This is for someone else, kind of like a present-poem. I had pretty limited knowledge of the subject, too. But I guess I could add it to "project relate". Here it is, hope someone can find some enjoyment in it. I did have fun writing it. I guess I have a weak spot for narrative poems.
------
Oh, Mother, What If? (July 3rd, 2009.)
Lately, mother, I’ve been thinking about you more and more
Would you have been the one whom all my friends might adore?
I’ve been pondering these things a bit extra each day
And missing you is shrouding me with dismay
Because, well, I lost you when I was very small
And I can’t even remember if it was you who taught me how to crawl
So now I’m wondering if you’d have been a good instructor
I’m curious if I’d be different, had you been my conductor
I imagine all your possible means
How you would’ve dealt with me in my teens
How you’d have handled my knee-ripped jeans
And if you’d make me eat all of my greens
I think of you teaching me to paint and draw
I envision you hanging my first work despite each flaw
I wonder what you’d say about my first kisses
I imagine you speaking of me becoming that boy’s missus
I picture you holding my hand as I wept over an ex
A voice I cannot conceive telling me that boys are complex
And when I was choosing my trade classes in high school
Would you have told me to treasure my dreams like a precious jewel?
Would you have guided me, and shown me the way?
Oh, mother dearest, what were you planning to say?
And my child, would you spoil her bad?
Give her everything she ever wished she had?
Would you squeal and obsess,
Then hand her back when she made a mess?
I bet you’d have loved to babysit
Ah, all the tiny hats and scarves you would knit
All the diapers you’d laugh as I cleaned
All the times you would have intervened
You’d tell me how sometimes
You miss the child’s lullaby chimes
Would you be there for support?
Then I’d never worry of falling short
I know you’d also love my child
Oh mother, if you were here, I’d be nothing short of beguiled
Mother, how I’d love to know your face
I just know it was shaped with grace
With skin soft as lace
Mother, do we look the same?
Was it your features that mine became?
Or are you more like my baby?
Or both of us, maybe?
This picture I have is old and worn
And I guess that I’ve been left forlorn
Oh, mother, mother, are we the same?
Are you anything close to the woman who I became?
------
I tried and tried to think of something; a symbol, an image, a metaphor... but I just failed. Me and my mom have a wonderful relationship, so I guess that's why-- couldn't relate at all? I'd really love some advice for this! You'd be my hero. Right now, I am going to think of this as a work in progress. Maybe eventually I can post a better version. Right now, it just looks like a kinda-pretty letter written by someone to their dead mother... =\ |
City Lights.
Salute You in Your Grave
Age: 29
Gender: Female
Posts: 2374 | July 3rd, 2009 at 03:12pm Ohh man. Haven't been back here in a while.
Gotta crack out the kinks in my advice! Haha.
So, riot reality.
I do have to agree on one point that my old friend, kings of leon. mentioned up there.
You caught my eye, for some bizzare reason.
And I'm glad that you did.
Your writing, though the rythym is off in places, is actually very well done.
Your word choice is, in most situations very good, and the rhyming isn't always the common choice (which I'm sure you understand what I mean), and that's one of the better things you could have done.
However, with rhyming, it's always very hard to keep it interesting, because after a while, it becomes monotonous, and tends to drag on.
I would very much like to see you experiment with free verse, and see where that takes you.
However, getting back to a proper, full comment on your piece "Oh, Mother, What If?", I believe that, for the most part, it is well thought out, and your ideas are more or less expanded well. The parts to work on are, as I said, the rythym, and the rhyming.
The structure, and word choice are good, as well as the imagery.
All in all, a pretty good piece that only needs a little more work to move from "pretty good" to "great".
Keep working, nakama. |
riot reality
Jazz Hands
Age: 28
Gender: Female
Posts: 295 | July 3rd, 2009 at 03:44pm I'm glad I caught your eye -^.^- The rhythem is really weird... Like, to me, it sounds like all the sylables match up. I don't know. I'll have to figure that out; maybe see how other people read it? Mlarrg.
Um, yeah, I've been told a lot that I focus on rhyming too much. I don't know. It's just my comfort zone. I like having the structure there. But I actually have written a few free verse poems... I view those as fails. I'll try and find a decent one to post here. I think I might have one.
And see, the thing that bugged me with the last thing I posted was that I didn't actually try to put in any poetic devices other than the end rhymes. I just tried to think up what the person who's point of view it's in would have to say on the matters that were requested. Those were:
-Missing her mother more now that they are a mother.
-How her mother would have parented her.
-How her mother would be as a grandmother.
-And to cover her wondering if her mother and her looked alike, the advice her mother may have given her, or the things that she missed out on by not having her.
The girl who has the point of view in the poem never knew her mother because she died when she was very young. She doesn't know what her mother looks like, all she has is one picture and it's in bad condition and therefore it's hard to see the image of her mother.
So, really, when you think of all that... it does seem like the poem is just blandly trying to reach the requirements. It just seems like a story that I don't want to read. |
riot reality
Jazz Hands
Age: 28
Gender: Female
Posts: 295 | July 3rd, 2009 at 11:07pm I feel so dead. It's been thirty seven and a half hours since I last slept. I'm tired. And yet... I just won't fall asleep. So I figued, post this thing I found.
It was originally written in early May, but I changed a few things up a bit today upon finding it. It's free verse. So be afraid... be very afraid... and proceed with caution. This was my second ever attempt at free verse-- the first one is in some notebook, lying somewhere on my bedroom floor.
But, onto the free verse!
------
Flaws Have No Structure (July 3rd, 2009)
I am so flawed.
Even pure light reflects on my scars.
Makes them seem deeper.
My fingers hold a pen.
They shake, they drop things at times.
I have to dig my nearly nonexistent nails into my skin to stop myself.
From doing much worse.
I can't believe others.
I think my trust has vanished.
I hate my own image,
It never seems right.
I worry of nervous habits.
They show my flaws.
Show how deep they are, and not how shallow they seem.
He is so beautiful.
All his scars are hidden well,
If they are even there at all.
He holds a fist with force.
He knows how to swing.
He doesn't worry, he has no need for such a petty thing.
He has confidence to a fault.
He knows who's worthy,
And of who to be wary.
And he can tell the difference.
So what if he's pushed down?
He always gets up to laugh in your face.
And dish it back twice as bad.
He knows what he's feeling.
He doesn't care what you see.
Because he accepts himself.
We somehow fit.
I'm not sure how, not at all.
It's the mutual weirdness, one could say.
No one is crazy enough to put up with us.
So we got stuck each other.
(And I just so happen to be enjoying every second of others’ so-called annoyances.)
It's strange to think of how well my hand fits in his, almost chilling.
Because at the same time,
His hand could crush mine.
But somehow...
Some way...
I just know he won’t.
And he’s knocking.
Knocking.
Knocking.
Knocking…
He’s knocking!
Why can’t I open the door?
I want to.
Yet somehow I’m afraid.
…What is the matter with me?
------
I need to SLEEP. Tell me how the fee verse was. <3 |
riot reality
Jazz Hands
Age: 28
Gender: Female
Posts: 295 | July 4th, 2009 at 11:31am I can't stand looking at that poem every single time I get to this thread. They All Sang It But Didn't See, that one. The one thing that I just hate, don't know why, I just hate it, is this one line: "she is pushed down by the power of her hate". It's that one line that I don't like, just that one.
So, I'munna re-type that one and see if I can start to like this poem again xP
------
They All Sang It But Didn't See... take two! (July 4th, 2009)
Like a cable pressured with too much weight
She's pushed down by the power of anger and hate
And because this hook has nowhere it can cling to secure
Her darker emotions can drive away whatever is left pure
So just as the snapping rope she followed in suite
Now we end this epiphany like the sudden allegro of the flute
------
I'd really love to add more lines to that... but I can't. GRR! I want to add more, but if I did, then it would be too long. The idea of this poem was to have it as short, sweet, and to the point as possible.  So, yeah. It just has to be short, no matter how much it bugs me, or else it won't fit right with the idea. At least not in my screwy head. xD I was gonna change a few other little things, but really, that line was the only thing that was bugging me badly enough, and I couldn't really think of anything else to switch around.
I do feel a lot better now that I changed that line... |
riot reality
Jazz Hands
Age: 28
Gender: Female
Posts: 295 | July 6th, 2009 at 01:12pm Oh, happy birthday to me. What a wonderful day I've been having.
Here's a note for when I went walking.
------
Yes, mom did say I could take a walk,
So that’s why I’m not here.
Step on cracks and smear children’s chalk,
As I will myself to disappear.
No matter how much I think,
It really won’t help at all.
Because I’m already on the brink,
So this’ll just help me to fall.
Maybe I won’t come home.
Maybe I’ll just run away.
I’ll have a lifetime just to roam.
And I’ll die some more each day.
------
I can hear my parents going crazy now. |
riot reality
Jazz Hands
Age: 28
Gender: Female
Posts: 295 | July 6th, 2009 at 07:21pm Well here's the second poem of the day. I think this will be it for today.
------
Children Waited But They Still Don’t Feel Good (July 6th, 2009.)
Staring closely at my reflection
Still don’t see any signs of the infection
Look closer when the clock strikes one-oh-eight
Still no signs to show the date
Oh, what a wonderful birthday this is indeed
I really do hate it when my eyes bleed
Oh, and now let’s have cake and ice cream
Sure, feel free to just invite your team
Ripping away the rapping is a chore
Because I just don’t want to pretend anymore
Love it, thank you so very, very much
Yes, I’m fine, I just think I lost my crutch
But I just can’t seem to do anything right
And today it seems that everything’s black or white
I’ve been proved a dud
And I still really hate this smearing blood
Realize that you’ll never have me convinced
Realize that you’ll never have me rinsed
‘Cause this day has nothing to do with me
So if you don’t mind, the chimes are telling me to flee |
riot reality
Jazz Hands
Age: 28
Gender: Female
Posts: 295 | July 7th, 2009 at 08:09pm The People Pleaser (July 7th, 2009.)
I'm always looking out for them
It's a habit that I wish I could condemn
But it's always there
The pressure to care
And I swear
It'll be the death of me
Oh, why can't I break free?
I've been told not to worry about the other ones
'Cause it just weighs me down by tons and tons
Sure, it makes them pretty happy
But it just leaves me feeling crappy
Still, it's easier to be agreeable
To be dependable and a bit foreseeable
But I can’t let them know that I’m hurt by this
I’ll shut up and give myself the Judas Kiss
Because I’m the better shrink
Because I’ve also been on the brink
And I know how they think
It’s because I’m weak
Because I’m the unique freak with the better technique
Because I’ve helped you, and you, and you
So there’s nothing to pursue and I’m the one to get the review
It’s because I’m kind
Because I know the ways to make one unwind
With sight to the blind and words that remind
Because I’m the pushover who is also a rover
Because I give a damn
‘Cause that’s just the way that I am
Because I’m the shoulder to cry on
And really, it’s because I’m just the perfect pawn
So go ahead and let me down
Then I'll come over to wipe off your frown |
