April 15, 200323 yr Author I walk down this stony path With no one here to guide me I see pretty visions among the trees But no voices or music to accompany the show I see blooming flowers and dripping hhoney With no bees or butterflies to grace them I am alone and afraid But I keep going.. There's no light at the end of this path nor is there a heaven waiting for me I walk because there is nothing left for me to do Life isnt that rewarding for me to be settled I walk because I wont have to think much Thinking is strain I now figure that walking alone is being w/ out distraction That's resting Down the path I continue to go...
April 15, 200323 yr He's in a New York minute now and me i'm stuck in the longest hour thinking of him thinking of you it's always that way even before we met i knew that you were for me and i was for you. Why can't you see it? Give me something to hope for to believe in love again.
April 16, 200323 yr Author Nothing comes this easy Should I just fall into the moment? I analyze too much This takes the joy out of spontaneity Before I realize it.. It will be long gone... I wont be able to capture it in a tiny little bottle.....memory.. Caught up in its sweeping gale of wind It leaves me a kiss on my lips Beforeing taking its place in my wishful thinking...
April 17, 200323 yr Author I'm jogging down this hill and I Ttrip.. Instead of tumbling down the hill.. Rolling on the loose gravel and gritty sand.. I slide slowly and gently.. Down on my back... I have enough time.. To see the children laughing at me.. To see the concerned look of the clouds that have stopped to cry for me in the sky.. I am sliding down this hill.. Not with the usual feeling of cherry blosssoming on my cheeks.. But with a winter's wind brushing past my face.. I am sliding down with the end near... I dont want to stop.. But I have too... I have to get up ... I have to get up... I have to get up ...
April 17, 200323 yr the childless plates are all full Hiding our lights from the deep of the shoulders And their eyes are all filled with those fighting images the happiness pillaged the rooms are all lonely , planes flying circles , bombs are in focus , and now I cant keep these images from my mind.... in from mind And my mind thats been damaged by anothers opinion, dreams have been stricken , all very wicked in making The stars are all pulsating waiting for something thats came out of them , People revolting wanting all pain to pour out of The pits of their being Happiness is all dying' to meet its maker people all faking to read into one happy dream sleeping walking days have met clumsy fame how unhappy it is to be bombing coming from talking of those set in war people revolting all filled with those images the rooms are all empty , planes flying circles , bombs are all dropping like jaws made of glass. Rights have been dominated , Like crops being cultivated , running the truth , telling all stories , of bombings and storage , And people wish quitely for dreams they seek inside of me , This dream is over , Make room for two others , Your friend and five others , All joining hands and running for cover, people revolting and talking of words the beds are all slept in, planes flying circles,decending on innocent Anything walking could be a threat to many pretending to help. Helpless bodies walking in order of that which they have been called Oh how they have fallen , Oh how could we have known , Oh how happy we are to be free, Free From the bombing ...Free from the freedom of living , Oh how happy we are.. There might be more to fighting , summing up all events quite relentlessly , hiding from threats in privacy of those with the higher hand, of which we all are big fans Read all words before they disappear , Sometimes their meanings can be lost to the air, Of those who breathe deeper then and far much cheaper In rest we are all hopeless Sadly unfocused , Curious to how one will react to the past that seems flat How the brain will lead in quest for that unseen , While those people are all dropping like heavy rain They seemed to have lost at the one biggest game. Oh how they have fallen , Oh how could we have known , Oh how happy we are to be freed, sadly we conquer and now there is some hope left in the air , oh how happy we are...
April 18, 200323 yr Rubies and Sparks And im tearing down the ocean waves, As they make a way through my chest, I don=t breathe for I won't speak , The twilight it is shining down, Bending it cuts through the water's wall, It has kept me here..... For I am in question, And here I am found drowned from all of my fears.... My memory is ever fading... Though I will never grow old like you, Death is haunting me still... My hands will never know what is true, beauty we find To be all in my mind, So everyone screams this way!, The abstract thoughts come bursting Into your blistering hands. And not one could ever find them, buried in your deepest sleep........ Its these secrets you keep in my passing, You find you could love once more, And you look down to the sea, and watch your memory and everything more, The light will reflect off the ocean shore , Bending to shine into you hands where you can keep him warm , For you can't speak a word of the Pain you had caused , With this word you could never reflect time , Time reflects you , Bending to meet in your skin..... And light shone down, claiming the few intimate sounds.... of your future.... and no one could know how warm you sleep inside your mind.. look down towards the dark.. there are sparks that draw themselves into the sky... look down towards the sand... there are rubies that glimmer in the shade............ making a place for their parade. For above it all the sun burns... waiting to shine its way into your heart... But you will make water from your eyes... Those tears the sun will never see!... Her heart will pound for you and the loss she feels as her body groans... she feels you never could have left... but your cold body suggests... you will never be again... The ocean waves and cries with lights in its eyes you will never be again! ... You will crash upon the shore with a hand that reaches for another... You will never feel again.
April 20, 200323 yr Author Blah, blah, blah she speaks Her voice A hammer breaking glass A chisel against marble A finger nail across a chalk board It echoes through out his mind Her words Closing in on his every thought A very unbearable burden It crushes him The pain intense Like lying out flat on a bed of nails and having a boulder fall on you His eyes Troubled Dark Hard Lost His voice Gone Silenced by her brutality Feeble is what he is now Her touch Ice cold Yet Severely scotching Her gaze Like a thousand silver bullets coming straight at you And all hitting more than once She raises every strand of hair on his body She completely stops his heart Takes his breath away Brings him to his knees Watches him tremble Then leaves Amazing Devilishly amazing __________________
April 20, 200323 yr The lights from the parlour and kitchen shone out Through the blinds and the windows and bars; And high overhead and all moving about, There were thousands of millions of stars. There ne'er were such thousands of leaves on a tree, Nor of people in church or the park, As the crowds of the stars that looked down upon me, And that glittered and winked in the dark. The Dog, and the Plough, and the Hunter, and all, And the star of the sailor, and Mars, These shone in the sky, and the pail by the wall Would be half full of water and stars. They saw me at last, and they chased me with cries, And they soon had me packed into bed; But the glory kept shining and bright in my eyes, And the stars going round in my head. (Robert Louis Stevenson) :) That poem always gives me goosepimples! :)
April 21, 200323 yr can i butt in? :) I love poetry, have been "attempting" :oops: it for a few years now, this is one I wrote yesterday: I am pen run over your pages, blue streams between the lines I cross to be with you; contours raised above the blank space between us. I am a bootleg, with songs for you, recorded long ago from pirate stations. Light a candle, watch the rain, listen to the crackled end. Do not pay for me, though I have a price. Copy me, I am unprotected. cya around, Greg
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