![]() |
Sunny Seaweed Poetry
Here is my try at poetry from now and long ago.
"What Do We Sing?" Apr2010 What do we sing, O what do we sing? When the cracks run deep and there's water between, Oh, God, What do we sing? I take it all back, I take it all back! As the thunder rolls in with a whip and a crack, when our coal coated lungs make us wheeze and hack, Oh Lord, Oh God, I take it all back! What do I bring, O what do I bring? To this cloth covered table, so white and pristine, To your table, Oh Lord, What do I bring? The people are shouting! The people are shouting! At the top of our lungs, we're questioning, doubting our leaders and governs, with rage, we are outing! In the streets of the city, the people are shouting! Who is to blame? O, who is to blame? If any trace evidence dares to remain, Tell us who, Tell us who is to blame! We found them, we found them! Let us hunt them and smite them! We can punish! We can fight! Our revenge is justified! Rest easy, my friends, for tonight is the night. Tonight! Tonight! We fight! We fight! We fight for our voices, our lives, and our rights! We fight for victims! Tonight is their night! We're in over our heads, but we fight! When blood, precious blood runs out, runs cold and every living patriot falls to knees, we weep, how we weep for the bodies in the streets and regret the day we uttered "revenge". Oh brothers, oh sisters cry out, cry now for the numbers we see that lie. A revolutionary story often comes to this end Why do we never think that we'll die? "If I Were" Mar2010 If I were a tree, I'd be a willow. Willows are moved by the wind. They sway and dance, their curtains flutter, I'd give anything to be a tree. The willow does not sit and weep like so many assume, it bows, humbly to the sun. The wise willow knows its place in the world. It is not too far above and it is not too far below. It simply is. I simply am. "Giving Up" Oct2009 my heart beats I always talk about my heart beating but that's because it always is. So. My heart beats It's like a ringtone And I race to answer it but for every step I take, it takes two. I tell it to stop but it keeps running. I give up. "Damn you, heart." I say. Hearts don't talk. I know they don't talk. So just shut up, okay? So. my heart beats I'm still talking about my heart beating but that's because it always is. So. my heart beats and it's still like a phone ringing ringing ringing ringing. Always ringing. And I'm running running running running, trying to get to that damn phone that is my heart but I never make it. And I'll keep trying and giving up and trying and giving up. And now I'm giving up. And I'm like "Screw this, I'm tired. I give up." And I do. I just give up. I stop trying. Trying to catch it trying to catch anything trying to DO anything... is just too hard. And giving up is easy. It's easy especially when you can't think. And right now, I can't think. And right now, I'm tired. And right now, I'm giving up. More recent?: "A Certain Number of Truths" Oct2010 Attention. Your attention please, Don't read this. But you, you should. It has come to my attention that I'm getting too much attention but of your attention and your attention, I'm getting not enough. You, my friend. Yes, you, my friend You live by the lies that lie behind the lines that are the bars that are the walls that make the cell that is the mindset of the lie. Trapped. You're trapped. Trapped inside that lie you tell yourself at night. Stuck. Ignorant of the choices sitting in your lap. And then I realize that I'm the one that lives by the lies that lie behind the lines that are the bars that are the walls that make the cell that is the mindset of my self-shattering lie. And I realize that I have come to understand a certain number of truths. 1. That I am not over what I once refused to love. 2. That you are not over that which you gave up. 3. That the lies we tell ourselves will never change the facts that slap us every moment we give them a second of thought. 4. I am not as strong as I once was. 5. The hurt will end. The hurt will end, the hurt will end. For me, for you, for everyone. Eventually all pain dies. Its last breaths taken out of sight. I also know that I am not ready. I still cry. I still don't understand. I still mourn the loss of a person that never existed. There is no longer a hate. There is no longer a longing. Just a little bit of an emptiness that I often pretend is full again. I hope you never suffer a hurt like that. I know you suffer a hurt. But I know it's one you put on yourself. If I were to tell you the truth, you'd hate me for it. So I won't. Let her tell you. But I hope you learn the truth. And when you do, I won't be here. I'll be around and I'll be there. But I won't be here. Not like I was today. ____ Tell me what to think! I'll add more later! ---------- I have happier poetry on my blog but if I copy/pasted that I think it would be cheating since they were on another thread first. |
| All times are GMT. The time now is 08:21 PM. |