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James
Posts: 40

Some old poems of mine Dec 10 2008, 03:47 PM

This Is Not a Pipe. (May 25, 2008) It is what it is. How you interpret is up to you. What are words but letters? and letters but symbols? Symbols to represent as an artist represents with paint. Nothing more than lines on paper. Lines you look at, you recognize, Lines that show a glimpse of something Non-concrete. A world filled so with images, All so seen by man.. The imagination lacks room to expand. The artist lacks room to astound Showing with the brush. The poet lacks room to astound Showing with the pen. All that is left are symbols. Symbols to represent Simply lines that show a glimpse of something Non-concrete. The Fool. (March 21, 2008) What is foolish When days end is so near? Does it matter? We all end up the same. Nonessential: Entities of no form. Everything is. Do you not understand? Gain of success It truly means nothing. For all time ends For all and for every The crack of eve: A reminder to this And everyday It cometh to do so. Igreca (March 21, 2008) Why? A tragedy, This, a tragedy All is a tragedy Why can my mind see something so amazing That my eyes can never see? Why? A Utopia.. This, a perfect world, All.. indescribable... This utopia is a wonderful thing That was never meant to be. Why? A simple question. This, one simple word. Always and forever. That is the only question left to ask. Of Paradox. (March 10, 2008) Of Paradox. Of Paradox. All we see is paradox, Everything is in order. Yet nothing is idyllic. How can that be? When I, I see... Reality. Simplicity. Naideality... It is simple. Reality is paradox. A Sad Boy. (March 10, 2008) This once upon a time There was a sad boy Who wanted to write a poem But could not think of what to write. What is love? (January 27, 2008) Love is... irrational. foolish. inevitable. inescapable. delicate. ephemeral. painful. tormenting. ...but that is what makes it so amazing. An Iota (October 18, 2007) Hello all... Or none... One and the same are they. I am a friend to you. Iam Iota. Or... Iota is me. Lost in emptiness... Torn have been me... My face is a solid plane of skin with no features, like a blank mask. My emotions have been stripped of me, from this long period of alone. But maybe I am just deceiving myself... Because they are here. I am just oh so and sadly used to it. I have been here forever, and forever shall I stay. It is terrible... terrible... To be forever alone. To not have had an ounce of love ever given to you. I want to cry... I want to scream... Yes, scream! Cry out you fool, Iota! But no... no... no... No one would ever hear me. The sound of my voice would carry on, but no ear would ever come to it. This is my fate, so be it. Be it like..I am... But I am not, as much as this nothingness around me is. Dear Little Boy (October 1, 2007) Dear little boy, don't you cry... You will be kept safe tonight. Between the trees, the leaves, the thoughts, the needs, Between the ends of infinity, between you and me, It is scary... Everything out there may seem bad, You may feel hurt, alone, sad... But Listen not the words they say. Everything still will be okay. Don't you worry. I am here... None of that matters anymore. The world has stopped, The tears die down, Not all is lost... And fears unbound. The truth is, I'm scared too, But it's all right, Because I'm scared with you. Hearts are Made of Glass (September 30, 2007) A heart is a fragile and delicate thing. It is easily shattered by heartbreak's sting. Broken pieces of glass cut the inside... They cut deep... Blood vomits from the wounds... My body is left wasted over a sea of red, Diluted only by the tears my eyes have shed... Is this not life? To be injured beyond repair? To fall and to wish upon a falling star, That maybe someone would still care? "Teddy Bears Don't Hug Back" (September 19, 2007) I am scared, I am afraid... Things I have thought Things I have made I just wish I could vanish Not to worry about it ever again, Not to worry about why, or how, or when. But even more... Far more... Far beyond far... I wish I could have a hug, To hold me, to keep me safe, to love... It sounds sad, yes, but I guess... Whether they know it or not, That's how everyone feels deep down on the inside. Iloftou (September 19, 2007) Iloftou... Ai loft... I love... I love... you... But faded are these words, and growing dim. Fading, as grey fades to grey, and to those that say them. But words cannot describe a feeling, The feeling describes the words. And with eyes shut and lips sealed, I have spoken all I feel. .broqenWords (August 29, 2007) It comes once more, like the other... fills cups of tears. I am at a loss of blood, for I am cold... so cold... so full of fear.. Shivers run down, but all for not.. No one is there to comfort, So hold on tightly to yourself, Go to a small dark closet, Because that is as close as you can get... Turn into nothingness, Nothingness, so that nothing else matters... Just dissapear... But is that so possible? And it, if so which... would it help? It still matters to me, but impossible yet.. So small... but yet so big... Flawed is the world, as flawed as these broken words. Broken words, for the broken hearts. Broken hearts, to some how feed our need... But what is need, and why? Why does one feel this way? To what avail has it? And to not, because to know would be to ruin. Ruin that only perfect thing, The perfect thing, which in reality, is not so perfect. But, as close as it gets... I suppose. .iM Pier de la Fekt (August 8, 2007) Can we as young children, go out and play? Even as we are, too young to fight that which stands in our way. That naivety of then, where did it go? Now you are filled with distress and woe. They want to keep you confined in this shell, But no. They raised you, they should have raised you well. And now come tears... Thoughts of death. After all these years, time goes yet... What is wrong with this world? What has it become? What has it been? Why and when? It has no explanation, it has no reason. If the world was perfect, would this happen? That in the most wonderful, the most painful lie... Go to your room, lay down and cry. But maybe that is it, and maybe this is why. That without the pain, all love would die. Confines of Dream (September 2006) Walking... I was walking... Dark. It's very dark. Pitch black. I cannot see my own two feet as they make each step. I cannot see what path I am on or what terrain. I am just walking forward. And I will continue walking forward... I do not know why I am walking. Or when I will stop, If ever. The ground is perfectly flat. No grass, no rocks. All I can hear are my footsteps. No, I heard something else... It sounds like... Like rain. But I feel no rain. I only hear it. I do not know the origin of the path, Or it's destination. I do not know where I am, Or where I am going. I continue to walk. My foot did not catch me. I fall, Forever and ever. Maybe it was not forever. Not falling, I am floating. Floating in a dark mass; A mass of nothingness. I am paralyzed. Can no longer move. I cannot tell which way is up. I cannot tell which way is down. I cannot tell where my hand, head, or any part of my body is. I feel like a mind... A mind stripped away from it's body. I am remembering something... Remembering... Remembering... Waiting. Stranded. Lost. Forever. Erased from the memory of everyone I know. I remember now... I am in my bedroom. A Dream. Or was it? It made sense did it not? What happened? Walking I was walking................

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