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Plastic BottlePlastic bottlemade to be trash.Dead after a single use.To the garbagewith others likeme, discarded and useless.Melted, I risefrom the asheslike a majestic phoenix.I'm remolded,reshaped, reborninto a brand new body.I'm now a toyto make a kidhappy and to play with them.I'm something new,something cherished,loved unconditionally.Once a bottle,now a plaything.A new life ahead of me.
Self-ExpressionI love toex press my selfIn many different formsMusically Artistically PoeticallyAll these are fun unique excitingThey make me feel free happy in controlWhen I see a blank canvasI see what could be there its limitless potential endless possibilities For me, creativity is an escape calming therapeutic freeing beautifulBy getting thoughts into wordsor ideas onto paperI can learn moreabout myself and my emotions.I can get a better handleon myself and hopefullygive myself some insighton the inner workings of my own mind.For me, self- expression is also self-discovery.Who knows what I'll find tomorrow?
InspirationWhy do we write, scribbling ink onto paper?Why do we do it now instead of later?Why indeed do we do so many things in life, Instead of facing head on its many strifes?For some, these stanzas and rhymes help a bit. They make us think and let us control it. Illusions of stability made by turning thoughts into words, Otherwise, would any of us even be heard?Flowing, Freeform, Uniquely structured,Or perhaps evenA short and simple haikuPacked with a large punch.So many different types await the creative mind.Some may choose to let them rhyme entwined, Or to let them fall flat without a twin. There is no wrong way to write, Nor is there a wrong reason, But to ignore it at all, Commits against yourself treason. Let the creative juices flow freely, Let them go how they might.However your poem turns out, Just make sure it feels right.
The Question, Unanswered. Me and my boo, together today.
Me and my baby, sharing a parfait.
Soon a question must be asked,
But it's a very daunting task...
Will she like it, will she agree?
When I finally bend down on one knee?
I shiver in anticipation,
My heartbeat must be heard across the nation...
Quietly I whisper in her ear,
"I have a question, can you come here?"
She nods her head with a smile.
I love her so all the while.
I lead her out away from the crowd,
Her answer could be very loud...
Will she laugh, will she cry?
Will she say no before telling me goodbye?
We are alone now, the sun is setting.
My hope, my love is what she'll be getting.
She looks out across the sea,
And then she smiles back at me.
But then, a figure comes into view.
A dark shadow appears out of the blue.
I catch a glimpse of a sword, glistening with red.
I look at my baby, I look at her dead.
Her face is in pain, her eyes glazed over.
I have no words, I simply hover.
Slowly, I bend over her body.
The blood on her shirt has become bl
ClosedClosed. The sign seemed to mock me as I stood there, trying to see if there was something I missed. This place couldn’t be closed. This couldn’t be real. I read over it one more time. “Due to the lack of use, this building is CLOSED INDEFINITELY, or until further notice.” A few more times it repeated itself in my head until I realized the horrifying truth of the situation. This was really happening. My one freedom from reality was taken from me. The library was gone. Peering into the lobby through the glass double doors, I saw the books sitting there, just beyond my reach. The shelves were as full as always, hundreds of thousands of novels, millions of pages of knowledge and mystery, excitement and freedom, calm and romance. Closed. Gone. Just too far away. Everything started to sink in. I had always liked how quiet it was in there, perfect for diving into a fantasy realm. I guess I never thought about how I was their only patron. I never thought about the impact that had, and now it was all gone. The damage was done. Thinking back on it, I don’t think I’ve ever even seen cars in the parking lot, save for mine and the librarian’s. I took a step back to take it all in. The doors, showing me my haven yet keeping me away from it. The sign which, despite my prayers, hadn’t changed. The brown brick walls guarding the books’ home. I tilted my head up to look at the cloudless blue sky, and I swore I could see flames. Invisible tendrils of fire licked the heavens, growing bigger and stronger with every second. The fire, burning with ignorance, enveloped the unnaturally silent building. My face grew hotter and hotter at the sight of them until, finally, I couldn’t bear to look at it any longer. My head fell and my whole body visibly drooped, like a wilting flower. My shoulders shook as I wept. At some point I noticed that I wasn’t even standing any more, feeling the hard pavement under my knees. I don’t know how long I sat there, but when I finally stopped, the sun had fallen low in the sky. I realized that I should probably go home, my parents would’ve been waiting for me. At my car I paused, looking back at the tragedy. The sky was darker, and the cooler lighting made it seem like a burnt up lump of coal. I thought of the future, the ramifications this would have. You don’t need to burn books to destroy a culture. You just need to get people to stop reading them....
The AlchemistYours is a stupefying talent honedTransforming love galore to eldritch fountsWith every valiant virtue all dethronedAnd you entrenched atop the gory mountsGrotesque abominations sink their teethin; flay my mind and leave infected scarsOf hatred, anger, self-detest beneathBy blood and tears and tissue tainted memoirsThis gruesome dance macabre never endsWhile you are perched upon your throne of goldYour potent magic my love’s essence bendsAs you command to firm the blighted holdAre you content extinguishing one’s fireTo taint and watch one drowning in one’s mire?
SpinelessI gave you a chance to walk away with honourAnd make thisA dignified encounterI wanted to make it as plain as possibleNo hard feelings, just honestyThere is nothing wrong about admittingThat it won’t simply work for some reasonYetYou made your decisionAnd did not take this offerYou somehow thought thatDisappearing would be so much simplerStillYou tried hard to convince meThat everything was just a bad circumstanceJust a temporary flukeOf too much work and too much schoolThen Your presence evaporatedYou turned into a phantomA mirage of a delusional, thirsty nomadNavigating through the desert of loneliness So I decided to turn this aroundAnd rip out your spineTo make you who you truly arePlease find your guts spilt on the floor
The mind of a landscape painterPainter carefully paints with a thought.He forms painting essentially emotional in originfor it moved his heart, and he recorded what nature brought,an effect in nature, making others hearts movingHe tries to offer feeling of homagewith his careful brush strokeswhile trying to keep his promiseto not go overboard with his own hoaxPresenting nature as it is For nature doesn't need fantasiesWith small amount of soul of hisHe knows, it's his canvas where truth liesIn that canvas you see,is the reality in eyes of the painteras he copied what his consciousness made to seefor painter is just an entertainerIt his consciousness that's creates the projectionand he then with his paint strokes copies it to the canvas.Essentially copying his own creationand from his own perception creating glances.It is only his eyessee the way they see that landscapeAnd it is where it diesIf he doesn't give to canvas it's shapeBe quiet, you can then hearthe whispers in the middle of the leavesThe spirit there quietly sings, shedding it tearsas it's own invisibility grievesYou see, the fate assigned to it isthat it has no eyes of its own at allThrough other eyes, it only seesthat it does not own the beauty of fallBut it delights the painter with every stroke of brushfor that beautiful is his creation.It causes the spirit to blushfor it is its most beautiful translation
AbraxasWhere wickedness is inhabited has been seen,
there's a good entangled in it,
in all that is and has always been.Not separately, they can't be split.For they are the one and only, being coexisting
and not opposites of each other at all.Here in this moment, there existing,
and it is destined to befallLight will not conquer the darkness
because there is nothing to conquer
for darkness exists regardless,
behold, from all this it only becomes stronger.But still, in each of us,
two natures are at warAnd the battle between them continues throughout our lives,
even though there is nothing to fight for
You have the power of light
and you also have the power of darkness
All together, you are Abraxas, all that is right,
all that is beyond us.
Only there can you find
some kind of happiness
and not be blind,
for then we will dwell only in darkness
Please tell me title for this poemI smiledand I continued to smileeven though I was slapped in the faceall day, all nightI felt the pain of othersI couldn't revoke the paineven though I had my druthersI could only see myself to drainI was in constant fear of future,always trying to achieve something,but all I had was my destiny for the benefit of the userand I only could meet with nothingWe fail to realize how much importancewe put to unnecessary things in our lifes,so we give too much effort for the perfomanceand so deeper and deeper into our flesh we press our knivesLife is inexpressible a hellbut there's beauty in all that miseryand waiting for that death knellI guess it kind of gives all such a great mysteryWe rarely show our true natureand there is a reason why we are the dark side of the moonWe hide behind our portraitureso we can stay in our shady boon.Maybe in time I’ll be able to resist it all, but now, even for a moment, nullity is also stressful to take it lightly And no one can tell because I hold on to everything too tightly
Not sure how to name this oneThere are no stars here in the darkness of the night No foam heads on top of stagnant and rotting sea Here, they take my spirits sight Even glistering health is desert for the soul here Your soul knows it The shortest, safest distance Fate, you must face it There shouldn't be resistance With passion it works to wait The soul, like cancer, wants to eat Get out of the hate Out of these shackles it wants out This fog has already covered my sight too long The landscape long ago disappeared into a cloud curtain For a moment I couldn't hear birdsong And I was uncertain I don't miss to go back to sleep That loneliness, when it is bathed in there happily And laughed how everything here is so cheap In that ego, we treat ourselves so crappily Think about the life you have lived Did you live as nature meant? But I guess you just for remained deprived Unhappy, not ready to augment
Between two darknessesDarkness
There is too much darkness in life
And too little light
There should be more light
Darkness, however is a gift
And when we are given box full of darkness
We should be loved by it
Taking advantage of our starkness
There is the darkness of lovers
And it is what the bearer wishes it to be
It is not wholly bad or good
It just is what it needs to be
I can't go deep enough into myself
Oh God, how I scream down here
I can't keep up with this silence
In my solitude I disappear
This is my symphony
Played in explosions of silence
I am fallen in love with this noise
Without ideals or violence
Hello...umm...I was wondering if I could get more people to look at a poem I did called stereotypes...I want more people to see it so it can help people...I don't really care about the publicity I just want to help others...Its for a leadership program called nXu