[Official] Share and discuss your amateur poetry and stories.
I recently wanted to challenge myself, so I decided to try my hand at poetry. Since I’ve written a few poems, I’ve really wanted to get some kind of feedback, I’m not sure if they suck or not. So I’m creating this discussion in the hopes people will share their amateur poetry and stories. Only constructive criticisms guys, not everyone is literary genius. I’ll share a poem, if you want to here another of mine, just ask.
An Explorers Ode to Earth
As I see her from afar,
I obtain an inkling of who we are,
Here I sit in this frigid waste,
As if running from her warm embrace,
Just as children must move from home,
Here we travel deep into the unknown.
I’m actually hoping for some feedback on this one, because I don’t feel it’s good enough. My mother tongue is not English so it seems a bit simple sometimes!
I’m hiding the new me that wants to explore
‘Cause it’s stuck in the context I built myself into
I’ll break out to capture what must be the core
But I can’t promise there’ll be room for you
Needless to say that I’m worrying
The forces of both yes and no tear me apart
It seems to me I’m only hoping
The resolution will appear out of my heart
The meaning of this all is inexistent
It is just a state of mind
To my inner self, I’m not resistant
Therefore I leave rationality behind
Jump into the void with me
We’ll see where we end up
A bright future I cannot foresee
But just jump into the void with me
And we’ll fill it in with what we are
Tell me what you think!
Writing recounted dreams, memories stream onto paper
The pen acts as wind moving fall leaves revealing words that were already there
This story has been told before so beware, don’t be scared, or
don’t be alarmed when the plot sounds familiar just focus on the
character, become Id’s familia, if you will
And, if Id’ll have you, succumb to Id’s will
Because it’s not just Id, you’re on this journey as well
You see through Id’s eyes
You tell through Id’s tell
You hear by Id’s ears
And you hide in Id’s shell
No one man is an island entire of itself
Every man is a continent apart of the main
But your island is beautiful so appreciation shall remain when you detach from ego and join in the game
…..But who knows when that’ll be so just experience the dream
Don’t worry, Id only hurts sometimes….
Letter From a Fatherless Daughter
A fatherless daughter
You’ve heard of our kind right
We’re the statistics
Once so innocent
slithering sweet whispers from a man can turn a fatherless young girl into a promiscuous young women
Never knowing what real love from a man is like
can cause a young girl to go searching
Most of the time in all the wrong places
Fatherless daughters lose their virginities early
Become young mothers
Lowering ourselves just to feel love from any and every man
Never knowing our worth
We allow men to lie there way into our hearts
and when they are done they leave us broken
All we want is love..to be held
to be told we are special
that we are beautiful
I know because I’m one of those lost souls
I use to think of myself as less then nothing
i despised the hideous person that stared back at me in the mirror
I never thought anyone would ever love me
Shit i didn’t even love myself
Never thinking i deserved love
I thought maybe if i pretended
acted like i had some confidence
i would get attention..and i did
I got all the attention, but all attention isn’t good
I still went home feeling like shit
head hung low
I knew the attention i was getting wasn’t real
it wasn’t ginuwine
but that didn’t stop me from wanting it
If i had the opportunity to look HIM in the eyes
what would i say
would i curse HIM out
yell or scream
I would look at HIM in the eye and say
You fucked up
You missed out on knowing an amazing person
A beautiful person
Im not gonna allow the cloudy memory of you
to rain over my life
I’ve had to fall down, and dragged through the dirt
only to get back up and realize im so much stronger then that
I am worth so much more
I am beautiful
I am special
and most important I love myself
Fatherless daughters are not perfect
we have made mistake
but we are strong
there comes a time when you have to stop making excuses.
It takes a man to help raise a strong women, and unfortunately we got stuck with the weak ones
But that does not define your life
Fatherless daughters it time
Respect Your bodies
And love yourself
Society the All-Mighty
I bow down before you,
Great propaganda and hypocrisy
For no one dare challenge
Society the All-Mighty.
Society the All-Knowing
I pledge my allegiance to,
Like the great United States,
You know just what I should do.
I search Fox news for my life direction,
For I know All-Knowing would never speak misdirection.
I learn by your state standards, guidelines, and rules
So one day I can grow up and join the rest of the tools.
The tools in the toolbox,
of the great workforce of USA,
I want to work in security,
So I can earn my meager pay.
So I’ll go to college and get my degree,
Because obviously the recession wont affect me.
I’ll ward of poverty with my magic piece of paper,
I traded 20 years of life, just incase I need it later.
It’ll help me get a job,
It’ll keep me safe at night.
Even though they’re starting to say,
That that is very far from right.
But I followed the All-Mighty,
I bowed down the them,
I did exactly what they told me,
Just to live until the end.
The end of my sad, unfulfilled life.
Nothing to live for but my wonderful wife.
My legend won’t live on you see,
Because what I wanted to do was just too risky.
pound for pound, round for round; dub me unbound. always fooling around: sound not found. crowded events in town, conscious energy crowned. by the people, never feeble. skip believable. mystical risk’s we pull, vision’s we hold. judgement turns cold when our minds unfold.
Why don’t you specify the things I cant realize on frank circumstances; take my hand in allegro ballet chances:
you come on heels to me with your batterie’s as if to impress on me the values of the body’s contorted variants.
but as far as i can see youre nothing that i can be, so compare me to the cost of hard won legitimacy beat against your chest; have a wicker woven nest.
saccharine keeps in your eyes, colour value with lusts beyond you; so you can hold it to a definition of trust. just a light against gowns, to see the folds of your kindness dwell in the shadows of doubt.
gangrene with unrealized wishes and acts untold before a false audience.
would you seek glamour in-amongst lost desires for fame and beauty; left you behind in the dusk of crossed arms.
it is but a chase, this cut of half truths escaped over the embankment’s; holding you back.
tracing erased tracks en shouldering faille; fallow fiend, pirouette over me.
return to bras au repos in your own way of grace, in that way i can appreciate those scenes before me; almost touching rounded arms to delicately spread fingers.
these figures dance en avant glide before reversing their stride, sissonne to the floor and perch like a flamingo.
so lets bring out thoughts into a waltz before turning out the legs rotation from steady hips to a fault.
5 hours in a day of seaside rain:
god you’re so beautiful when i dont know what you are.
come through to me like an inspiration i can feel.
i want this wind to stop, but id rather not. careful.
whatever happens to those feelings of loss now that you’re here between my ears; caressing my head like a cradle i can bear.
so far i dont want you now, i just want you to know how much you mean to me.
with hurried blessings spoken while the straight candle burns before you snuffed it out with silent wax in this power outage; i pray seldom for some.
yet never for one.
i watched you from a fixed focal point to see how much you changed today, and stood within the wind at my back.
waiting in vacant houses extended from the ground in case it floods; like a curse you can tell..
like a voice that cant yell.
and saw with eyes puzzle pieces from the sky, fall dissonant like rain on my exposed head.
so hey, come sit on this bench dedicated to the open air and swollen sea. cause my feet got blisters and they cant see.
i found a maple leaf today, deciding to catch it off the ground for a sign of reflection perseveres within me; i look out to the sea.
thinking amongst paths seldom taken, i took the ones i never saw before now.
its sunday and the glass store is closed. so i peered in through the window, like a child watching water flow down through the sideways gutters and into a drain. seeing those old bottles and closeted cares too fragile to cost.
thrown down by the distant docks, and complicated by loss.
but right now things make sense and feels warm within my not-so-rainproof coat. my joints ache with apprehension for the next second there; ive now grown older without a fare. something im sure of but cant satisfy.
crown come to me like a word on a wing, for your sleepy company is too forlorn from me.
so ill take you in
to seat your sorrows by the fire
and keep your passions by the sea in benches dedicated to that which we cannot see.
changing thought locations, blistering from precision come tomorrow till then; ill be watching still round the bend.
sought courage as if it was important.
just filament for social character, go churn somebody up and spit them out in the gutter if you’re hung higher than your feet can reach.
just shadows on the beachsand for gulls and umbrellas to bathe in the luxury of outstretched hands.
gray curdled waves overturned in the sky pulling sheets of rain across oblique roads; shimmering and cold from the crosshairs of the night.
spare condensation for heat. and catch whispers scrawled in your memory of past-times and opinions of others.
belittled murmurs under duvets and covers, come collect whats discovered if not, heres another.
hold rhine in your hands, clandestine from the path. ready, contorted, detract, from the tears in your fuselage of thought amongst grown desire.
the adult world’s a bore, send my ship from the shore; into entropy evermore.
try draw compassion from concrete, however vain it is to hope that i can still steal a drain for your thoughts. or some rope to burn.
a snail on the razors edge, beading sweat, stilling unknown fears from this life and its gears evermore not too clear.
demented the time of eternity grasping oxygen while the mind collects silt at the bottom of its reservoirs. for no reason am i mine than to sit passing time fighting the influence of gravity on my frame, come to blame i remain.
I am a sensitive person and would (if i had to) describe my current state of existence as Hyperreality. i feel that as a human questioning my identity/ values i have come across moments where i see insensitivity in people as a disabling trait to acquire, and therefore see these ‘insensitive’ people as being lesser and incapable of understanding compassion or the desire for empathetic interaction.
this was the way i thought throughout a majority of middleschool and highschool as i jumped from a nuturing environment full of friends and little misgivings in elementary school, to a hostile environment where people made ‘factions’ of themselves as if to protect them from something. some unknown assailant.
anyway i saw how horribly people treated each other and begun to understand the roots of apathy in a micro-cosmic way. as a result i vowed to never stoop to their level because the only purpose it served was to inflict doubt and pain in people’s lives. for most of my school ‘career’ i was introverted and avoided notice by others, much preferring to be an observer to the shrapnel of daily life. eventually my fascination with people grew and i began to invest myself in the lives of others with the focus of strengthening them to the hurtfulness inflicted by people who simply didnt understand what it is to be loved.
i then saw myself as a catalyst to an effect. each interaction i had with people felt like tectonic plates shifting. building up pressure in places. contributing to some small change in someone.
i became someone who could easily traverse a multitude of personalities and peer through the ‘image’ they made for themselves in their factions. though i would not associate myself freely with people that i saw as ‘primitive’ and subject to repetitive flaws in their poor version of humanity. those who openly spat in the face of compassion i abandoned to suffer in their own private purgatory.
though i always secretly hoped that they would one day stop hurting themselves so much over so little.
it was in grade 11 that i became active in pursuing my goal of becoming a real human being. cause all around me all i saw were aliens without understanding passion. they would filter through their jobs and schools throughout the week before partying on weekends. it was repetition and pure numbness. there was no questioning. i would go to houseparty’s not to drink or smoke pot, but to see these people and the way they lived their lives in highschool/college. it was in these moments that i understood that all of them suffered from dissatisfaction. these were just people reacting to the society they lived in. and it is a society of grandeur illusion woven through distraction; ruled by the greed of the few and the apathy of the many.
it is in this that i am humbled around people of any experiences. because they are experiencing something i can never understand. i mean the fact that i grew up passionate yet never revealed my true nature beneath the guise of a blank face and unassuming gaze should suggest the possibility of others living this mirage as an image of how others perceive them rather than how they perceive themselves. if this is true then it can be further suggested that there are many beautiful people in your life that are just really good at hiding. i encourage your questioning of ‘superiority’ if such a thing truly exists, for we are all in the same desert. and the silence is just as intriguing.
with support on your discoveries – An aspiring human being.
For me to begin to describe this feeling commonly interpreted under the umbrella term of ‘love’, i must first describe my experiences with something called ‘comparative thought’.
throughout human history comparisons have been made to delineate a perceived (and tangible) ‘truth’ from falsehood: Life, Death, Good, Bad…
what is interesting in these comparisons is the similarities inherent in both.
for example; is love only love in the presence of hate? is it the same with life and death? right and wrong?
surely there is a very special interaction here that is being overlooked. in my understanding it is that these comparisons have created an extreme division in a singular feeling or experience. with no middleground between the two they cancel each other out, leaving the viewer in a state of disbelief rather than understanding.
i can however appreciate the purpose and literary beauty of such comparisons but in my mind love and hate are essentially the same thing pushed to an extremity beyond essence.
now that i have established where i am coming from in this respect, i can begin to discern my experience with this highly ambiguous term.
i experience constant fascination with all the things around and within me, and therefore am experiencing a variety of emotions which leave me feeling overwhelmed at times. but what i understand as ‘love’ is simply when i see a truth in something or someone.
as a child i thought that we lived in a snowglobe-like world and that the stars were airholes poked through its outer surface so that we could breathe. that was one of my truths that ive held onto despite knowing what stars really are (from what people and books keep telling me anyway.) all i know is that i will never really know anything.
it is in this attitude that makes the ‘truths’ i find in the world all the more magical.
my more intimate experiences were firstly through the understanding that there was another person pushing through to me and wanting nothing more than to be in this moment together. i would trace facial features with my fingers and try to take in as much as i could from them so i wouldn’t forget what we felt. it is in the recognition that another person is before you (in one way or another) that a feeling of unification is achieved. ive not experienced this more than twice, but each time it was different and at one point pure.
the truths we experience and try to relate to each other are only seen when people recognize themselves in others.
yet i am a product of everything outside of me, and can perceive a great beauty in all things.
i think that to question the concept of love is (in one way) to experience love.
Several short poems I wrote years ago. Let me know what you think, if you find some time to send my way.
hidden in the darkest depths
kept anchored to my heart
if they’re set free, a fire will rage
feelings too intense to stop once i start
I try to smother these wants
but I’m not as tough as i appear
at times I’ve felt especially selfish
and i let the numbness cut and sear
my veiled, tainted yearnings
jolt against the walls i build
evoking chaos within their bounds
I clash against their will
all have the potential for selfishness
and though never my intent,
i hurt those i care for most
when i let my urges represent
who i am, though in pure truth
i am nothing like i seem
when these urges are in control
i am lost inside a dream
one where I’m invincible
and those I love as well
i can’t hurt them through my actions
i believe the lies i tell
my urges are anything but pure
they’re addictions i wish not to restrain
i may get high off the feelings they bring
but to loved ones, they solely induce pain
there yearnings are my own
as best i can, i stay in control
but please forgive me if you’re hurt
by the acts of this selfish soul
You Can’t Love
your numbing breaks my heart
your loneliness tears me apart
you’re drowning in you own sorrow
you live so there’s no tomorrow
I still love you, somewhat unwillingly
you’re killing yourself off slowly
you’re addicted to your own destruction
and it kills me to watch this happen
how can i continue to love and care
when you no longer want to be there
you love yourself not
and you bleed your soul out to rot
how do you expect me to stay
when you could end up gone any day
you do things not because you don’t care
but because you can’t really share
you cannot claim to love
because its not true when push comes to shove
you can’t love someone else
when you don’t even love yourself
I might just have to go away
I can’t stand to watch this destruction each day
your face remains
instilled in the recesses of my memory
your aura haunts me
from the deepest confines of my heart
you eyes glow
through my sleepless nights
for months now
i’ve ached for lost art
that sends me shivering and shaking
that warmed what once was frozen
that gave me faith in life
to the world you were nothing
to me you were heaven
The Indiscernible Monster
This faith, it stems from no tangible origin, and is uncontrollable.
It runs rampant in the turnings of my mind, cranking gearshifts to shift my psyche into a hidden world, an altered reality, a clouded perspective I cannot escape.
I have found ways to subdue this demon in my consciousness, escaping this terrible existence in my outer reality.
Hindering the monster, I may consciously see the world in its true light, but inside my head the monster is roaring.
It is burning down the records in my head in a fiery rage, eating away at the gray matter with an insatiable hunger.
And it is smothering my memories in a dark, nebulous shroud of smoke.
Till the destruction and desolation extinguishes the light in my eyes.
Suddenly, as if it never befell, the storm ceases.
All that’s left to be collected are the smoldering remnants, the ashes that once were my mind, my character, my soul, my humanity.
My eyes, once a window to my inner workings, now only show a dark, cloudy gray.
My body begins to shut down, having no comprehension of how to care for itself.
Deteriorating until all that’s left inside is a rotting soul, a sliver of what once was a human being.
All that’s left is a hallowed out shell that once encompassed a living thing.
Faith, the silent killer.
The hidden savage.
I was thinking we should try to at least comment the last thing posted before posting, in order to avoid getting a lot of poems and stories but nobody commenting them, but I’ve gotta admit it’s not always easy…
Especially for poems, considering that a poem is supposed (for me at least) to be the perfect particular arrangement of words to express something that would be ineffable otherwise, I always feel that if I try to understand it by thinking of it and somehow explaining it with my words, I’ll just break the fragile construction and lose the meaning.
But I’ll try to comment anyway ! @serenity1992, I like your last poem, maybe you should try to stop keeping this monster behind the bars of your mind, set him free, free to burn in the true light of this world, and maybe then he’ll appear different, harmless.
Or maybe I just haven’t understand anything and I’m writing nonsense !
Here’s two of the few short poems I wrote during my trip in Morocco, with both quite a similar ending :
Is there a way to draw a line,
Without having to go down the valley ?
Can’t I just come and break in, like it was mine
Without suffering the pain of loss, absurdity ?
Cruel state, when I have to know,
Tender one, when it is to flow.
I don’t know what it means, to be
I mean, is there something, to touch and see
Or mostly nothing, to feel and breathe
Sometimes I wonder, these times I know
Sometimes I answer, these ones I don’t
I don’t know why I write I don’t write more in french, which is my native language…
It’s so stupid but I ended up seeing english as the language for art, and french is the practical one, used only for boring stuff and real life conversations !
are we any more then just a bunch of laughing hyena’s…….dreaming of selling out arena’s. evading subpoenas because we are at the forefront of freedom… anything but fear them…. cherish r.e.m…. kill time….. not humans….rooms constantly fuming…. always losing, healing, reeling….what i manifest to feel like a king. never reaching the standard’s i set…. set my sights high hang dry amongst how hard I try. humbly die in the eye’s of what I mime. don’t worry i’m fine, im fine.
call me dumb that i saw it coming…everybody was fronting conscious loving…. turn’s out evil is something, trusting, friendship rusting, wing’s clipped after erupting. gust’s of wind now move me abruptly. punk kid’s will get whats coming. god’s mercy wont be funny.
I used to think that I had nothing to say
Nothing to write
I felt alone and stayed up all night
No spark to ignite
Afraid of any challenge in sight
I kinda just sat there
Literally just sat there
Sometimes I spoke to myself
I spoke to myself but I don’t think I was really listening
I used to think nothing was my thing
I would just look and observe
Get on nobodys nerve
Just please and serve
There would be times were I would think I made progress
It would last for a while
Then I’d loose myself
Again, and again
That’s how I made a living
Procrastination was my secret lover
No, don’t go!
Please wait, there’s more
Cause that was before
This is now
Everybody say hi to now
Now I’m applying for a new job
Oh I know!
I’m gonna be the architect of my own life!
I’ll tell myself whats wrong or right
Oh I know!
My mouth is my pencil
My words move it
My thoughts make up the stencil
My actions improve it
Man, this is easy
Instead of being down Imma smile
Instead of smoking Imma run a mile
I’ll look up to the sky and let my mind stay for a while
– Hey clouds, whatcha guys doin’?
– Oh, not much we just float and keep on movin’
Woah, what if it’s that’s simple?
That man has no left arm but he’s still smiling
That girl has nothing to keep warm but she’s not crying
That boy is hungry but I hear no whining
They all know the sun is still shining
I’m definitely getting this job
Actually seems like I already got it
And this time I wont loose it
Oh this time
This time I’m holding on
Cause there’s nothing that can make me stall or fall
This is my call
It’s only up from here baby
Up, up, up and away
By the way
No this is not for you
This is for me
You go make up your own life
Just keep your mind open
And you’ll see
Everyones got a story to tell
The only listener you need is yourself
Yes, I was stoned when I wrote this.
Self-medicating the frustrating spaces between their borderlines, feeling fine and whining cries into the distance. The listeners flock while the shock rocks them into the next world and leaves them swirling in curls of disbelieve. An achievement which leaves many lost as their cause floats hollowed out to sea. Where the free speak and are spoken to casting hope and roping the fools onto their rafts. They left the shallows for gracious grounds and found besides love and laughter the unannounced gathering of brightly feathered understanding and unending gratitude. From me at least to you.
Friends! Let’s set sail!
Where to you ask?
No, no, no my friends
It’s not about where.
Youre already there.
In fact it’s everywhere.
You’ve just thrown out the anchor.
You’ve just been standing still.
Neglecting the waves and winds
Don’t you realise you have your own
Well then my friends, it’s time now!
Time to set sail!
Today I am a victim of my fear
Afraid of my own heaven
So I waste myself to peer into the fire
The warmth that’s buried, burning higher
I never know how long its been, I never know how long its been
Today I am the mother of my heart
It’s alright if you’re weaker than you were yesterday
I have faith in all your hiding parts
I see them time and time again so take your time to lay
You’re always safe to roam alone, your always safe to roam alone
ridiculousness never checked for delirious is success for serious, im theorying. philosophy is here to praise the king and bring spirit’s in, absorb light n pull emotional string’s, reign supreme while our soul’s theme is driven by dream’s, hope and freedom. hide and you wont see them…seek and you will be them….
I escape from my mind a giant
A colossus seething with hate
My hand outstretched in defiance
I destroy what I did not create
The face of the earth will be wiped clean
No longer scarred by humanity
I return to my flesh an insect
A mere mortal, I will die a slave
An existence I’m forced to regret
As I’m dragging my feet to my grave
In my dreams I long for destruction
In reality I fight for time
Devote it all to fight your instruction
In the end this time will be mine
Now imagine the end
I am to blame
So I die to allow myself to dream
A mind capsized
In the sea of a soul
A heart crucified
On the cross of faults
No end in sight,
To the snake circle.
Fight as you might
Release is hopeless.
Cower in your woe,
Set sail despair.
Inevitability beyond you
Carved stones of a past
Combed strands of regret
Never fail to be the fool.
Cherished to cheapen.
Twists, rewrite to anecdotes.
Smiles turn crooked
All you are is devalued
Deeds come up short
Once was redemption
Now mere traded flesh
To pay for the sins
Of a monster dead
I wish to not feel
If to feel is to be.
I wish not be
If to be is to feel.
I wish not to be.
I just wish not be.
Someday, I will just not be.
The green, the seemingly endless streams of could it be and have you seen.
Leaving nothing in between the empty sheets where they have been.
But a mean silence, a violent reminder to the riders on the storm.
Worn out faces from being torn and thrown, born, again, alone.
The paths of peril herald brave and bold the untold riches.
Her sharp mouth leaves scars stitched again with listeners.
And christmas every other day.
The blue, a grave and bitter hue of unforgiving truth fills his shoes.
Crooning news to recover or evidence to lose, his lovely pretty noose.
Moves to proof a fool.