maybe_mayhem
06/20/03, 06:36 AM
Red Moon At Dusk-
While some compare the common interest of
eachothers diversity, others reflect back
upon things which they have done unto
someone of the same genre or classification
but more importantly unto themselves.
Unlike the majority, we ignore everything
that's going on around us, everything that
is falling. At that moment my fist is
driven into the dirt of our foundation of
what is to come and what has returned to
destroy. Out of frustration from realizing
my actions have no affect on the end which
is in near sight, my pen moves
uncontrollably across the page which
encases a letter to whom it may concern.
The Endless Breath-
With vision blurred to no end, we're all in
this together. The absence of your presence
has left this dream untold. The bitter cold
is my accomplis telling me to break away
from the first four years. My mouth drips
with seconds shed from my life. It's a race
to tie in with the clear air that chokes my
voice. It flows nicely to drown my screams
not felt by your own heart but from an
unknown source that whispers your name in
the night.
Return to Life-
Symphonies rise to cast a black silhouette
on the children of our future, they hold the
knife that killed the past.Protection is a
blessing in disguise that left our
disconnected spirits long before any can
remember.Every last one of them have claimed
innocense to advance into the realm of
beauty and horror.But isn't horror beauty in
itself?I have often pondered the flight of a
bullet and it's path to solitify the
downward spiral of integrity.A righteous
hand drags it's crimson stained nails across a
rusted path that awakens the urge to these
feet, someday soaring with the clouds.So
hang your toes over the edge and take this
leap to regret never again the chances you
once had.
These are a couple of my poems that I have. If anyone is interested in reading my others they are on poetry.com. Just type in my name at the front page where it says search for a poet. my name is Rory Bement
While some compare the common interest of
eachothers diversity, others reflect back
upon things which they have done unto
someone of the same genre or classification
but more importantly unto themselves.
Unlike the majority, we ignore everything
that's going on around us, everything that
is falling. At that moment my fist is
driven into the dirt of our foundation of
what is to come and what has returned to
destroy. Out of frustration from realizing
my actions have no affect on the end which
is in near sight, my pen moves
uncontrollably across the page which
encases a letter to whom it may concern.
The Endless Breath-
With vision blurred to no end, we're all in
this together. The absence of your presence
has left this dream untold. The bitter cold
is my accomplis telling me to break away
from the first four years. My mouth drips
with seconds shed from my life. It's a race
to tie in with the clear air that chokes my
voice. It flows nicely to drown my screams
not felt by your own heart but from an
unknown source that whispers your name in
the night.
Return to Life-
Symphonies rise to cast a black silhouette
on the children of our future, they hold the
knife that killed the past.Protection is a
blessing in disguise that left our
disconnected spirits long before any can
remember.Every last one of them have claimed
innocense to advance into the realm of
beauty and horror.But isn't horror beauty in
itself?I have often pondered the flight of a
bullet and it's path to solitify the
downward spiral of integrity.A righteous
hand drags it's crimson stained nails across a
rusted path that awakens the urge to these
feet, someday soaring with the clouds.So
hang your toes over the edge and take this
leap to regret never again the chances you
once had.
These are a couple of my poems that I have. If anyone is interested in reading my others they are on poetry.com. Just type in my name at the front page where it says search for a poet. my name is Rory Bement