Aphasia17
08/13/09, 09:26 PM
So I've written hundreds of poems over the past six years or so, and I thought I'd share three more recent ones and get some opinions from people other than teachers and facebook friends. They may be good, they may suck. But my heart goes into every word I've written. If you find yourself saying "wtf does this mean", don't worry because sometimes I say it about my own writing. Thanks in advance for reading!
Built up on a ten foot pedestal
The likes of which Goliath would be proud
Now you must perform for the monkeys
Chanting as the sticks become knives
Vicious
Scathing
Ferocious
Glass rescinded to the end of the busted sky
Hope is the destroyer of dreams
Great expectations
No expectations
Seasons sold to the third planet
In the next galaxy
Twenty-first day and age
These people, they can never know the meaning of freedom
Because they never knew slavery.
Maroon silk clouds the room
Bottom lip of the ax curls
Is it a smile or frown?
Ready to kill either way
Strike at its desired moment
At its leisure
Like a blind angel
A pattern in the cloud of silk reveals itself
A smile
A face
A name
Flee the room
Run through the ice beasts and turncoats
Run to the edge of the world
If the world’s a sphere
You’ll fall off sooner or later
No balance
No control
Maybe land flat-footed on a star
Or a galaxy twenty meters below ours
Like the underside of a bookshelf
There’s always something more
There’s always something more.
Spoke with my memories last night
Told them to stop raising their voices
Like an uprising against a dictator
Haunting me like a walking tree ghost
Casting its thin shadow upon a sunny nightmare
They said we are controlled by one thing
Like you, we age and slowly wither away
With each breath from father time
We are the true ghosts,
The ones you can’t prove exist
But are sitting in the front row
And I asked them
Are there green-eyed vampires too
In this waltz?
Hand in hand they go
Left, right, left, turn
Free to be themselves
Without want
Or thought
Or wishing
For a change in the bloodthirsty atmosphere
Built up on a ten foot pedestal
The likes of which Goliath would be proud
Now you must perform for the monkeys
Chanting as the sticks become knives
Vicious
Scathing
Ferocious
Glass rescinded to the end of the busted sky
Hope is the destroyer of dreams
Great expectations
No expectations
Seasons sold to the third planet
In the next galaxy
Twenty-first day and age
These people, they can never know the meaning of freedom
Because they never knew slavery.
Maroon silk clouds the room
Bottom lip of the ax curls
Is it a smile or frown?
Ready to kill either way
Strike at its desired moment
At its leisure
Like a blind angel
A pattern in the cloud of silk reveals itself
A smile
A face
A name
Flee the room
Run through the ice beasts and turncoats
Run to the edge of the world
If the world’s a sphere
You’ll fall off sooner or later
No balance
No control
Maybe land flat-footed on a star
Or a galaxy twenty meters below ours
Like the underside of a bookshelf
There’s always something more
There’s always something more.
Spoke with my memories last night
Told them to stop raising their voices
Like an uprising against a dictator
Haunting me like a walking tree ghost
Casting its thin shadow upon a sunny nightmare
They said we are controlled by one thing
Like you, we age and slowly wither away
With each breath from father time
We are the true ghosts,
The ones you can’t prove exist
But are sitting in the front row
And I asked them
Are there green-eyed vampires too
In this waltz?
Hand in hand they go
Left, right, left, turn
Free to be themselves
Without want
Or thought
Or wishing
For a change in the bloodthirsty atmosphere