I'll just keep all my poetry in here from now on.


Alot of my poetry is much longer but I'll start you off with short ones and get longer if people are interested.



Set Me a Fire

Don't bury me beneathe this soil,
This land so long I had to toil,
Burial is a bit redundant,
My burials already plenty abundant,
And my soul hasn't a prayer to rise higher,
So when I die just set me a fire,
The smoke is the closest I'll come
To that pearly gate and heavenly drum.



No Sign

And I can taste you in my mind,
Honey suckled lust so kind,
Dancing throughout my day dreams,
From the morning sun beams,
Till the last shining of the last ray,
Not a second of dismay.

And I can hear you in the wind,
Little whispers of love to send,
Yes, I can feel you in the river's flow,
Love me longer, don't ever go,
I can see you in the darkness,
My love I wish I could reminesce.

I wish I could taste you with my lips,
I wish you were hear before the sun dips,
I wish I heard your voice call my name,
Or your body against mine in a still frame,
More importantly I wish I could call you mine,
But you won't give me your love or even a sign.



Box of Bone

I live to leave more than a stone,
Six foot above a box of bone
A shame if a dash is all it takes,
To symbolize my acheivements and mistakes,
The numbers the only thing worth a look
To see just how much of it I took,
And if not a big enough gap between
I won't be but a two second scene
To the children checking who was oldest,
If a dash is all, my stone will be the coldest.


Unforgiven

I wrote the book and I burried the truth,
A lovely memory hidden somewhere in my youth,
Lost at an age, a time when I was so uncouth,
Like a raging fire did the tears burn my face,
Like an unknown evil draped upon me was this disgrace,
Buried in a devouring and overpowering shame,
Consumed in a hatefull and ungrateful lust,
Hidden inches below a most appealing crust,
So amazingly discrete never revealing distrust,
Another cheap product carelessly mislabeled,
Another thought of happiness now disabled,
Never had I anticipated this bittersweet taste,
How can I ever find the feelings seemingly misplaced,
I did not ask for these feelings of utter sorrow,
When did I ever pray for this clouded tomorrow,
I desired love, not hate shrouded in a beautiful dream,
Maybe I did deserve punishment but to this extreme,
Maybe I did knock on the wrong door,
But still I ask what this current affliction is for,
This ostensibly everlasting and unforgiving treachery,
Compared to that long lost dream this is quite the contrary.



I Keep My Feet Below My Knees

I keep my feet below my knees
Picking fruit from trees
scratching dogs with fleas
But on my feet if you please
I keep hands in pockets
wandering eyes in stagnant sockets
Seeing stars and fake rockets
Fake pictures in fake lockets
My heart stays far from a sleave
My heart my shirt never leave
No lest unneaded pain I greave
I keep my ears on a short chain
Nodding leaving a smile a stain
As if lies I gladly accept
Thought but nearly lept
Box bouncing in my brain
Box flowing with grain
Feet chasing evading streets
To where the common meets
To where corruption greets
Right hands extend
Smiles fake upward bend
Like Aesops fox grinned
Eyes so shine
glistening wet needle pine
Lets promise it fine
Lets enter and dine
Inhale healthy nutrition
Exhale common cognition
Keep up the disposition
I keep my fork by my plate
To my mouth oh so late
Cause my hands in pockets
Eyes searching hidden lockets
Exploding like misguided rockets
Ears on a longer chain
Filling box of brain
Poker face with no cards
Leaving luster to lying bards
I keep my feet below my knees
Not to bow
Never ask please.

This post was edited by Symptom on Feb 6 2008 11:19am

you certainly are right, we are polar opposites when it comes to our writing styles

i like this line though:
I live to leave more than a stone,
Six foot above a box of bone

pretty tight

This post was edited by Kamikizzle on Feb 6 2008 08:39pm

Glad you atleast liked a line haha

Unforgiven has a religious meaning behind it. I was Christrian when I wrote it.

Here is the religious one I was telling you about though...



He Cried

His words an enigma,
Speaking of my stigma,
Dragging me to oblivion,
Naming each and every sin,
Reminded by this mystic rectifier,
Wanting to say he is a liar,
He refuses to euphamize my evil deeds,
Not ignoring one of my sown seeds,
I look past him to see my list continues,
Knowing he will name each of my devious dues,
It is the sixth time the sun has gone on a break,
Yet I sit still awake,
Too many tears to close my eye's,
In fear, that my future I could further jeapordize,
I feel the pain of each word,
Pierceing my heart like a sword,
Soaked in tears to my waist,
Knowing with every action my Father was disgraced,
Then suddenly I hear a break in the mystic's voice,
And see that his eyes too were moist.

i like that one. the only thing i have against is the syllables. although im not a stickler for structure, i do like some :\

I never have much structure in my poetry =/ I've practiced by writing some sonnets and haikus but I just don't do good writing with structure. I have a poem that talks about that...

Glad you liked the poem though =)

beautiful. love your work.
the rhyming is magnificent,
and your verse is very deep,
while being easy to follow.

i do respect your ability for using
rhyme and still having a good final
product. like i said in kami's thread, i'm
more of a free verse kind of guy.
rhyming doesn't work for me, so i have a lot
of respect for those writers who can use
this tool. keep it up.

i dont really like it. sry bud.