Err...Some Poems

[Lady Arwen56]

Note: I got really tired of starting new threads for each poem, so I'm putting a few in one thread. Yay! I'm sooo smart. (Most of these poems do not rhyme)

Cold
I shiver.
I cry.
It's cold here.
Too cold.
My soul was once warm,
I once had a heart.
But now I am dead.
Everything is dead within me.
My mind lingers on one last thought "Does he love me?"
My heart answers with swift beats. "No. He loves someone else."
I am limp in the arms of death,
My mortal life slipping away from me.
I can't take this.
I can't take being cold.
I feel like I can't breathe,
Oxygen is being surpressed by lasting lies.
I shiver.
I cry.
It's cold here.
Too cold.
I die.
I die with no one there for me.
I die without you.
Without...everything.
Only cold.

Darkness
You can't see me in this darkness,
This darkness that consumes me.
I'm shivering, this total night is cold,
I'm dying, this total night is suffocating.

I know you are waiting,
I know you want me to join you.
Darkness and shadow are your shelters
When they are everyone elses demons.

I can feel myself slipping away,
My once green eyes black and heavy.
You tug at my soul,
Your begging now, pleading with me to let go.

I jerk away from your touch,
You make me bleed with your words.
You can't see me in this darkness.
You can't see me bleed.

Painful
He came and went,
Passed in and out of our lives like a shadow.
He was a blur,
I felt like I barely knew him.

We all felt like that.

He wasn't perfect,
But he didn't deserve what he got.
He didn't deserve Death.
He didn't deserve to be buried under the ground, his skin rotting away with time.

We all knew that.

He was a blessing,
Someone that you can only find once in a lifetime.
He was a pain,
Someone that you wish you'd never met.

But we loved him either way.

We all miss him.
We still cry over him,
Our hearts still filled to the brim with memories of him.
We still want him back, even though we know that can't happen.

It still hurts.

Untold Story Of Death
note: my friend wrote this. she was too scared to actually post it, afraid of people will think, therefore I will post it for her.

Lying on the ground, gasping for breath, holding your hand and wishing for faith. Blood seeps through opened sores, but I am still the one thing you adore.
Heart beat slows, survival rate lessens. This is just one of those, I-don't-understand lessons. Green eyes glisten with unshed tears, one last hope, so many fears.
People stare, and I wonder if you care. (I don't) I watch your face, wishing for one last taste, but I can't even kiss you in their unreserved haste.
Your still the only good thing in my life. I love how we lived without any strife. I wish you could stay, but it's all too late.
I want to rip free of your everlasting grasp, but instead I just fall in line with the mass. I fall beside you, knowing that your life shall end, and that we will be through.
People stare, and I wonder if you care. (I don't) I watch your face, wishing for one last taste, but I can't even kiss you in their unreserved haste.
Heart beat slows, survival rate lessens. this is just one of those whoever-said-life-was-fair lessons. Green eyes glisten with crystal blue tears, one last hope, so many fears.
This is the untold story of death, the untold story of your one last breath.
People stare, and I wonder if you care. (I don't) I watch your face, wishing or one last taste, but I can't even kiss you in their unreserved haste.

Another note; She would like me to add that this is about her *ex* and that she still loves him (he died incase you hadn't figured that out) And no *Katie* I truly didn't write this. C.S. did.


Okay, yeah...alrightly then...check ya later.

[Pirate]

I like them alot but I think you need to work on rythm a little bit. Kepp writing

[Lady Ravyn]

they're all very good, but very sad. i especially like the "cold" one. that was VERY good. but like hobbit said, on the second poem, you might want to even it out a bit, work on making it flow a little better. very good, though.

[Beor]

I agree, they are all so full of emotion. The thing is, however (and this is where I disagree), that not all poems have to follow any format. They really dont have to rhyme (Sp?), they only need to covey a point or emotion in a certain way, with certain words. Rhythem and rhyme help, but they are not need (I think, its been four years since my creative writing class). All in all, very nice work!

[Drgnslyer]

Well, this poem was written on march 18, last year during one of the many periods of reflection of my car accident that so permanently changed my life years ago.

Those of you who havn't read me posting about it already, it's a part of me that has permenantly changed my life for the better, so i have no qualms talking about it. Even though it's a somewhat disturbing story on the surface, once you boil everything down, it's an incredible story of everyone involved overcoming incredible odds to lead towards setting themselves up for the lives of their dreams.

This happened august 6, 2001, our 89' ford probe slid into the back of a milk tanker truck on the highway at 70kph, the impact all but crushed the entire car...my friend andrew driving had compound tibia/fibia fracture in his right leg requiring hours of surgery to simply save his leg...

Roxanne wasn't so lucky, in the front passenger seat she suffered extensive head and internal injuries, broken ribs, femur, nerve damage, and brain damage....her list of injuries was quite severe and she was comatose for months, and on life support for quite a while.

Myself, I ended up with a completely ruptured front and left abdominal wall...basically that means that the ab muscles were torn from my right side all the way around almost to my back on my left side, a bruised bowel, and some nerve damage and light scarring on my face from hitting hte seat infront of me....

At the scene of the crash when the emergency crews were asking for my family names and phone numbers, the only number i could remember was Nurvingiel's *emily's*.....I could hardly remember my parent's names....

At the emergency room in the hospital, before anyone knew the extent of my injuries, I was being comforted by friends and family, tho the only person I really wanted to see was em. The moment she held my hand and looked down into my eyes, everything literally froze, and in that one moment I knew that I would be alright, regardless of the eventual circumstance.

Anyways, now that you know the background information, that will make the poem that much easier to understand. Here we go:





I know this

We began so sweet and innocent so long ago,
We used to just toy with the idea;
As if we knew exactly how things would go.

I know this because of how we used to stare,
I know this because of how you would care.
I know this because of how I still dream of you;
I know this because of my pictures of you.

That one day made everything clear,
When I fell up into your eyes as you held my hand;
I realized what I would become without you near.

I know this because of the love it awakened,
I know this because of how my eyes were opened.
I know this because of the memories I now remember.
I know this because of how I'll love you forever.

[Lady Arwen56]

I'm glad you all liked my poems. I don't like usually like rhyming poems, because I believe it strips away the artistic value most times, all though some poems are great with rhymes, others are not. It all depends on the poem and the author. I myself prefer them not to rhyme as I have stated, so i.e. I didn't make them rhyme.

Drgnslyer: cool poem.

[Lady Arwen56]

Oh, and if you would like one of my rhyming poems, read Dead Roses

[Lady Ravyn]

no,no it's not that i thought they shoul rhyme (god, i hardly have any rhyming poems) but i meant they were a little rough around the edges is all; not that they were bad or anything; sorry you misunderstood me

[Lady Arwen56]

oh, okay then. I'm very...let's just say personally involved with everything I write, so...they can get a little scary. lol, I'm glad you liked them though.

[Nerdanel]

Very nice poems! I love Darkness, and all the other ones too. I don't think poems have to rhyme - mine never do.

And tell your friend that it was a very beautiful, emotional and powerful poem she had written. I understand that she's afraid to hear what people have to say, especially when it's about such a sensitive subject.

Keep writing!

[Rosie Gamgee]

Beautiful poems, especially the last two. Great communication of feeling.
Mind if I add one of my own? It's certainly not as good or even on the same subject as yours, but it's one of the sadder poems I've done.

EAXMPLE

A question thou askest of me
To bare my mind and thought to thee.
I answered thee true, thou I told all
Yet thou distrusted me without call.

Such words stab true and pierce the heart
Such wedges drive we twain apart.
What suff'rest thou who wounded me?
Now I would fain to distrust thee.

A question to thee now I ply.
It cuts thee too, thou wondrest 'Why?'
Why does thy daughter now accuse?
Why does thy daughter now abuse?

Canst thou not see what lies behind?
What faith unbroken dost thou find?
Blame not the daughter thou begot
Who thou with thine example taught.

[Lady Ravyn]

nice! very shakesperian(sp?) !

[Rosie Gamgee]

Yeah, I was kind of going for Tennysonian. Thanks.

[Lady Arwen56]

Yes I do agree with Lady Ravyn. Nicely written.

[Beruthiel's cat]

Lady Arwen,

your poems convey deep feeling. Loss is difficult and writing helps a person put that loss in perspective and eventually move on.

Rosie G,

You convey the feeling of a different kind of loss in a disciplined, classical style. Usually I don't like "rhyming" poetry because most of the people who try it are either too "Hallmark" or they just don't get the meter right and (some heretofore hidden perfectionist part of my psyche kicks in) it drives me buggy! You got it right all round, emotion, meter, rhyme. Great!

I'm a fan of the poetry of Emily Dickinson and W. B. Yeats, by-the-by. (Drove through Amherst, MA in November and the boyfriend didn't want to stop because there was a snowstorm coming. He was right, but -- sigh -- such things are lost on him, I fear...)

[Tessar]

It's interesting that you should say that Cat, I'm really the other way around: I dislike poetry that doesn't rhyme, because I don't feel that it's really 'poetry'.

Oh certainly I'm all for leaving the meter for a sentance or two, but I feel it needs something snappy right after that to bring it back in line.

For instance, if you read a rhyming poem outloud, it has a certain 'beat' that's easy to catch on to, and very pleasing to hear, but if you try to read something aloud that doesn't have a rythm, it never sounds right. It's like a story that some one disjointed and left all the chapters out of.

Now don't get me wrong, unrhyming poems can still be very pretty, but I just don't feel like they're really 'poems'.

[Beruthiel's cat]

I don't mind rhyme if it is done effectively, with a "beat" as you say. That's essential if it's going to be effective. And if you look at Dickinson, specifically, she is not so much given to rhyming as to that "beat" that makes her poems so lovely to read aloud.

I agree that there should be some sort of rhythm in a poem, something that drives it forward.

BTW, Tess, I was just reading your comments on critcism and they are right on the mark. They are particularly significant right now because I just got a very nice rejection letter from a publication to which I submitted a story. Three people at the magazine took time to send me brief critical notes and I can't tell you how much I appreciate it!

I shall have to unearth some of my old poetry (and maybe post the story that just got rejected) to share with everyone sometime in the future.

Acording to the comments I received, my story is not a hopeless case!

[Tessar]

Originally posted by Beruthiel's cat
BTW, Tess, I was just reading your comments on critcism and they are right on the mark.

I shall have to unearth some of my old poetry

Why thank you .

And yes, please do unearth it! I'd love to read some of it.

[Lady Arwen56]

I guess you two will both get what you want, for I have rhyming and unrhyming poems, soo...

I'm very into reading Dickinson. She is one of my idols, as is Edgar Allen Poe (makes sense, huh?) I have both of their complete works. I also like Voltaire (although he has nothing to do with poetry).
Here are some more poems....

Gone
My heart aches,
My eyes well with forgotten tears,
You took my sanity
Leaving me in this penitentiary.

My soul longs for your sweet embrace
My mourning mind longs to see your face.
I bury myself inside.
I let myself lie on my bed and hide.

You sleep in your coffin under the ground
No expression on your lips can be found.
I wait for my turn,
I know I'm next.

It's not just your eternal sleep I mourn,
It's that day in the park when you had sworn
That you would never leave me.

But I guess that was just a lie,
I should have seen it in your eyes.
But I didn't, and now your gone.

Immortality
I was once alive. I was once filled with as much life as you. I could see, I could hear, I could do everything you can.
Then you took that away from me.
You stole my soul, my heart, and my sanity without my premission.
I used to sleep at night,
I used to breathe in the cool night air,
I used to be alive.
You smash my heart into a thouseand peices, draining me of my mortal life.
"God!" I cry out, gasping for air.
"Save me!" the words tumble out of my lips just as I fall into that enternal slumber.
But it's too late.
I am in hell, Satan's red flames licking at m flesh, eating away at me. No, this is more then hell. This is hell beyond hell.
There is no one else here. I am alone.
I am alone and I am plotting.
I am plotting my revenge.
My spirit shall seek it.
For it is all that is left of my immortal life.


Suicide
All is quiet.
I'm pressed against the bathroom wall,
A razor in my hand.

I stare at it,
Gazing at the metal bars that run across it.
My heart beats yet is still with fright.

I press the blades to my pale skinned wrist.
I pull it across my vein, blood rolling out.
I lie down on the floor, my body having spasms.

My eyes slip close,
My lips are drained of color.
My body is still now, the crimson life leaking out.

You burst through the door, and find me.
"No!" You shout, running towards my lifeless body.
I watch you with dead eyes.

Don't worry,
We'll meet again soon enough,
I'll be waiting for you, watching for your ghost.

Silence
My pace quickens,
My breath slackens,
My heart beats in it's shell,
Screaming at me to open it up, and
Let Everything Out

Impossible.
I'm stuck in my mind,
Where darkness
Fills every place,
Shadows dare pull me
Into their dark embrace.

I hear noises
When there is nothing
But silence.
I feel someone,
When no one is there.

I scream
Hoping someone
Will hear.
But no one does.

I am alone.
Alone, and afraid.
Afraid of all the things
That hide in the darkness and
The Silence
In my quiet mind.




Silent Tears Of Envy
Sun ups, sun downs
No smiles, just frowns.

We who watch in jealous fury,
Of those who die in spiteful hurry.

Those of us who scream in madness,
Only wish to cry in sadness.

We embrace what we can't handle
To have perfect pictures above the mantle.

We control our future with what we borrow.
We hold, in our own hands, endless sorrow.

Sun ups, sun downs.
No smiles, just frowns.

Breath
I can feel his breath on my skin,
Yet I know I'll never feel his touch again.

My heart pounds broken in it's cage
Don't let this story go on, don't turn the page

The clock chimes three
My soul is never to be let free.

I can't stand this pain,
Because for us, there is no gain.

I feel like I'm in hell
God, you don't have to yell.

You can't help me anymore,
He's dead, only blood on the floor.

Now I'm all alone
Your voice is silent on the phone.

I was always without you.
I was always alone.


okay then, there ya go

[Rosie Gamgee]

Nice. That last one had a good sense of 'in the moment'.
btw, thanks everyone for the compliments.
I personally like both peoms that rhyme and poems that don't. If you read Tennyson's Idylls of the King, they don't rhyme, and they seem to have no meter, as far as I can tell. I don't consider that poetry because of it's lack of rthym. I liked Untold Story of Death, though, because it had rthym in its repeating lines. A few others here, whose names I can't recall, had that kind of beat too. Those I do consider poetry. I think that rhyming can really restrict a good poem sometimes, and prompt one to add lines that are not needed simply to keep up a rhyme. Sometimes it distracts, and other times it enhances. But I don't think that a poem has to rhyme to be a poem. My preference is at least keeping up a good meter.
btw, that poem of mine up there is probably the first one I've written that uses all that old, archaic language. I like that kind of stuff, but it takes some effort to tame it into a poem.