angel081385

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mood

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contemplative

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Stevie Smith - Away, Melancholy

Away, melancholy,
Away with it, let it go.

Are not the trees green,
The earth as green?
Does not the wind blow,
Fire leap and the rivers flow?
Away melancholy.

The ant is busy
He carrieth his meat,
All things hurry
To be eaten or eat.
Away, melancholy.

Man, too, hurries,
Eats, couples, buries,
He is an animal also
With a hey ho melancholy,
Away with it, let it go.

Man of all creatures
Is superlative
(Away melancholy)
He of all creatures alone
Raiseth a stone
(Away melancholy)
Into the stone, the god
Pours what he knows of good
Calling, good, God.
Away melancholy, let it go.

Speak not to me of tears,
Tyranny, pox, wars,
Saying, Can God
Stone of man's thoughts, be good?
Say rather it is enough
That the stuffed
Stone of man's good, growing,
By man's called God.
Away, melancholy, let it go.

Man aspires
To good,
To love
Sighs;

Beaten, corrupted, dying
In his own blood lying
Yet heaves up an eye above
Cries, Love, love.
It is his virtue needs explaining,
Not his failing.

Away, melancholy,
Away with it, let it go.

angel081385

[

mood

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contemplative

]

Want and Need

To contemplate the contrast: want and need,
One must consider happiness as end.
To want and get is happiness indeed,
But need obtained mere standard does portend.
One may not always want a need for sure,
And need perceived may merely weakness stand,
But want fulfilled is momentary cure,
While waiting need lies dormant, dull and bland.
A want is never needed: need’s a chain
Man drags along his life’s animal task.
A need deprived brings groveling and pain,
But granted want empowers those who ask.
As far as contrast gives result to see,
Far better, then, to want, to choose, be free.

angel081385

[

mood

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happy

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( FibersCollapse )

angel081385

[

mood

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happy

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( I just suddenly got inspiration at 2amCollapse )

angel081385

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mood

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relaxed

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( A break from studying to share a poem about gradesCollapse )

krazykari123

I haven't written a sonnet in awhile. So here goes:

The days are grey and bland without meaning.
I'd gladly go back to the way things were
When Life was Truth, and there was no scheming,
When all else had no need to be obscured.
I pounce upon a glimpse of light which shines
So seductively; it lures me closer.
We can pretend to outrun Father Time,
Jump into memories, keep the lines blurred.
I am lost within our escapade;
I fail to determine a friend from foe.
Every succession, matched by fallen blades
'Til the hills ring with each shrieking echo. 
Sweet life, to slow you down would take away
Not only pain, but the joy in each day.

krazykari123

[

mood

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annoyed

]

I keep starting out really amazing-like with my poems,
like, I'll throw out this really good line,
and as I keep going, it just kind of falls apart.
Hate that.

krazykari123

[

mood

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likeihavetopee.

]

I composed this on February 28, 2006.
When things weren't spun into perspective for me,
and I still cared about the trivial things in life.

I'll probably come around to caring again;
it'll just take me a bit,
especially since there are more important things to worry
[[or think]] about.

we'll paint a picture individually,
just to show each other together.
blending colors with the faintest touch;
it's already a masterpiece,
long before it's done.
i'm peeking at your canvas;
i only want the slightest glimpse,
but you shuffle, and it's blocked.
our eyes meet, and you smile.
"patience," and "not yet."
will there ever be a time?
i'm watching the sky,
turning black from the brilliant hues,
and even before that, the blinding blue.
mine is half-dry,
and you're still hovering over yours,
working so diligently; you look at peace.
are you truly at peace?
what floods your mind,
and drowns out your pain? [[i need it]]
the answer, i know
before it even touches your lips.
"KPAC." of course. "KPAC."
the truth is like a blade that slashes,
the fatal blow, and i'm on my dying gasps.
why couldn't you have lied,
just this once, and if you told me later,
i might've survived, recovered faster.
still putting on those finishing strokes.
i'm laying down on this dust-ridden floor,
wood and creeky, trying not to breathe too loudly,
in case you may hear the rasp, and worry.
you never look down again,
but did i even expect more?
night bleeds into dawn,
and she creeps up upon our
lost, beaten, weary souls.
a new day for another change.
you're still perfecting,
and i take out a new brush.

Horsehair bristles anoint the dry eyed sky
with a bluebird's feathers
accenting with drops of colorless cotton-candy.

A calming scene
in which puddles of stone and mortar
become a hide-away, and patches of clover cover
mute hills.

A lemon rind sunrise
raidiating heat over this popsicle-stick forrest.
the sand-grained crow lets out a sigh once more.

With a tentitive hand, I paint the sky with my words 
                                                         press play.

asian_chic

[

mood

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sort of comforted

]

~my guilty concious~

I hear a name
his name
the name in my dreams
I shout his name
but noone replies
does it not seem so???
I await the reply
..............
silence is all I can hear
my state of perplexity is soon to be
retain my ardour
my guilty concious
i hate myself, for thinking this
life is like a box of chocolates I've always said, but
once the chocolates are gone
what's to eat???
surely not the box.......
cold, wetness
like dipping your foot into the water
is that what I feel???
cold and wet???
i treat myself like a looser
like a true fool
is this not what I am???
the truth hurts
I guess that's okay
love doesn't suit my mental state of mind
retain my ardour
my guilty concious
stop the hatred
the side of me that i hate
the wet is a bitter cold
warm me up please!
i won't doubt the fact that you and me together are meant, but
perfect??
is that so???
i'm not so sure
.................
deep silence again
no answer
no lie
no truth
no telling what's to come.....
is this my future???

.......***........<3 ps: my poem; not good

angel081385

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mood

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happy

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Well, here's the first poem I wrote for my poetry class. It's a lot different than any other poem I've written, and I think that will continue to happen. It was supposed to be an imagist poem, composed of images that convey emotion.

( Early Evening ShadowCollapse )

angel081385

[

mood

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nostalgic

]

~The Scent of Happiness~
The soft scent of the flowers drifts to me,
A scent that fills the air with an embrace.
This island is a gem within the sea,
As intricate as finely crafted lace.
Amazing how a patch of land so small
When on a map its presence you behold
Transcends the beauty of a waterfall;
Surpasses in value the finest gold.
From boat tours of the river in the day
To captivating luaus held at night,
It is without a doubt that I can say:
Never before has beauty filled my sight
In such a way as this Kauai so dear;
Surely the perfect end to any year.