The Immortality of Love

"Love is as strong as death."(1)
Its dark shadow encompasses you,
Choking the breath out of you,
And swallowing you whole.

Love is as miserable as death.
It takes you through a whirlwind of changes,
Leading to despair and suffering
And ending in the eternal rest of your heart.

Love is as tragic as death.
You wake one mourning, stricken with grief,
To find that the deafening silence
Of loneliness, is fatal to bear.

Love is as sorrowful as death.
The depth in your soul that it reaches,
Can feel like a slow, stewing pit
Of sickness and nostalgia.

Love is as grave as death.
It crucifies your heart,
Nailing each entailing emotion to the sleeve,
For everyone to see its severity.

Love is as free as death.
You forget your previous, immature inhibitions
And remember what you wanted to begin with:
For someone to return your excruciating love.

(1) Song of Solomon, 8:6

Okay, so I do like to write and once had dreams to be a novelist but now I see that I'm not very gifted. This is probably what I would consider one of my best poems. It was written for my creative writing class and we were told to write a poem with a Bible verse being the first line. If you seriously wish to read anything else I have written, go here: http://www.fictionpress.com/~worthwaitingfor

In case you are unfamiliar with this type of site, "Slash" means it contains homosexual relationships and the "M" rating is the highest and would be like rating a movie "R"

“My Own Cinderella”

I don’t want to be some
fairy tale princess
helpless till a man comes to
rescue me
I don’t want to be that girl
who is stuck in ever after
that’s just not the life
for me
I just want a chance to be
whoever I want to be
I just want a chance to do
whatever I want to do
I don’t need a fairy godmother
I can make it on my own
I don’t want to be locked in
some old tower
guarded by a dragon
I don’t want a poufy old dress
to go to some old ball in
So I’ll fight that dragon
and wear my jeans
and be the person
that I want to be

I'd like some constructive criticism, because I know there's something wrong with it (possibly rhythm?). Thanks.

A Messed Up System

The sundrops are spilling out beyond the chicken coop.
The flowers are rising to say hello to you.
The wind is blowing in the top of the trees.
The people are bowing, they love to please.
The people are bowing, backs curved elegantly, their red shirts are glowing,
you can see.
But red reminds you of blood.
Such a far away thing,
that you wonder for a moment if it is a dream.
Some idle fantasy meant to distract,
from the joys of the world,
that somehow draw you back to the attack.

The bomb is exploding beyond a prison cell.
The deceased are calling from the ground in their Hell.
The chopper is humming.
The people are bowing.
—No—
They’re not.
The people are dying.
God, you’re distraught.
While you thought they were bowing in their beautiful red suits,
They were actually begging for help,
From you.

You’re a soldier,
here to save them all.
If that’s so,
answer their call.
Help the people you hurt.
No way!
I wouldn’t have imagined that any day.
It’s a messed up system,
Lives flitting threw the streets,
above the red rivers running right past your feet.
Above the crystalline liquid joining the red,
people calling to the dead.

The sundrops are spilling beyond the chicken coop.
The flowers are rising to say hello to you.
The wind is blowing in the top of the trees.
The people are bowing, oh! how they love to please.

Bleed



I cut myself for the first time tonight,
But just deep enough to make it bleed.

Only one problem,
It wouldn’t stop.

I put my wrist up to my lips,
To suck the pain away.

Blood entered my mouth,
It tasted so right.

Barely even touching it,
It starts to bleed more.

The pain intensifies,
And tears come to my eyes.

A person comes to mind,
It just had to be you.

I can’t let you see the scars,
Because I don’t know what you’ll think.

I can’t, I won’t show anybody,
I have to just let it bleed.



8-5-04

Stain of Sadness

There are so many things
Things that breathe
Things that cry
Things that die

Life is one long day
A day full of heartache
Happiness and pain
Off and on moments of feeling insane

People pass by
The world breaks
And suddenly comes back together
Leaving a stain of sadness for forever

Why? Do you know?

People wonder why people die.

What is the reason for living if it ends?

Why do little ones have to play inside

so they don’t disappear?

Why do mothers flee from their men with

their child screaming?

If God cares about us, why do we have to endure?

If everything wouldn’t hurt, my cousin would not be

an agnostic. Girls will not have babies at sixteen.

Boys will not go around calling each other Jews and gays.

Fathers will love their families, and mothers will never

lift a powerful hand.

If God loved this world, Sèan would not have felt the

desire to die; nor Andrew or Tanika. They would be alive

and happy to have Him in their lives. And why do the rich

steal from the poor, or why do the faithful endure hardships

while the atheists lavish it all? Why must we give compensation

to receive help, but be denied because “they don’t cover it?”

I should not have to fear for my friend’s dying, but I do.

Wars still happen, and His people are still murdered.

Why is God not listening?

I sort of understand the reason now, but it still angers me. Our religion teacher says that the reason why people suffer is because we are to be like Jesus as he had been on the cross. One man I know said, "Even the worst suffering imaginable can bring forth life in abundance."

For You, Mike Reyes

For you I write this poem,

In your memory.

Seventeen is too young to die,

But I guess God wanted you there with Him.

I have seen Nicole wail and weep in grief for you,

And seen Raul hide his red face for the first time.

Men are not supposed to cry, you know.

I saw you at the funeral and saw your

Grandfather hold stiffly a woman’s hand.

“Now he is home with his mother,” they said.

And I saw you as all of us threw dirt on your casket

And lowered you inside that dark hole that will

Be the resting place of your young body.

I saw your life when your friends made a collage of you.

And I knew you too.

From grade school, remember?

I will see your jeep without an owner

And Nick, Raul, Gustavo, and Ernesto without your smile

And some hate Phil for letting you die.

Why did you have to get onto that ATV,

Only to crash and die in the deserts of Mexico.

The Senior class is missing a student.

You, Mike Reyes

You should have been here to graduate.

Why?

In Loving Memory of Miguel Roman Reyes who died in an ATV accident in Mexico in July of 2004. He was seventeen years old.

I write but i usually don't let any 1 see it. I feel it's my private thing and it's rare that even my family reads it. One of the things that i hate about letting people read my work is that they beginto assume that i feel or in some way have to do with the poem. I write from imagination and like to dream up people for poetry, usually the poems have nothing to do with me and i hate when poeple think so!

Safe is quiet, quiet is safe

When others talked,
She said nothing.
When she was asked a question,
She said nothing.
When she tried to speak,
She said nothing.
Always lonely and afraid,
She said nothing.
Wanting a friend,
She said nothing.
Fearing they might stare,
She said nothing.
Not wanting to open past wounds,
She said nothing.
Fearing the future,
She said nothing.
Never fitting in,
She said nothing.
Wondering why,
She said nothing.
She then remembered why
She said nothing .
They yelled at her last time so,
She said nothing.

I love all of yalls poems, they're really good. Here is one of mine ...

"Band-aid"
I lay as a shattered piece of glass
They spit on my face
Their feet kick my head
My eyes automatically close

I scream as a drowning child
My arms reach up to the sky
I'm waiting to be rescued
Water fills my throat

I spin as a ballet dancer
My stomach longs for food
I'm weak as I twirl
I fall, people clap

I pray as a bleeding Christian
I beg Jesus to save me
Grab me out of spider webs
Shake the hurting out of me

I smile as a model
You think I'm beautiful
But these scars are ugly
People say how happy I must be

I cry as a person
Wanting your hugs
Wanting His love
And needing a band-aid

I have never really publicly sharred my poetry so I guess there's a first time for everything.

Changes

I won't be your entertainment
I'm not your TV screen
Turn me on when boredom comes
Then leave when better things are seen

You won't meet me at the corner
Can't meet me half way there
But you expect me to come running
Well I don't think that's fair

I don't want to hear your stories
About the things you did
So save your breath and take a chill
Cause I'm gonna stay and listen
like some little kid

Now here's your one and only chance
To chose between me and them
You better make it quick and right
'Cause you're not getting this chance again

I thought we were the best of friends
And I told you everything
But a simple change in schedule
Sure screwed up everything

I want you back the way you were
The person I used to know
The quiet, caring, little girl
Not the one that's adding to the show

You follow them like a duckling
And act just like their clone
You've lost your individuality
And you've left me all alone

I hope that you are happy now
With all of your new friends
You make them fast and lose them quick
But those you've lost are much harder to mend

Cold gray-tinted light cascades into a reclusive, half abandoned room like a waterfall tryting to wash away all of its restrants,
Its final destination falls upon an ominescant, emotionless face.
Staring out onto a non-existant horizon, face and body are numed by the essence of life.
The fire that once murned in the depths of the soul and in every fiber of the being,
Has now slowly begun to creep its way out, leavingits hosts mangled body gullable to any prey imaginable,
Self-consiously withdrawaling inward only soothes and toughens the exterior,
Leaving little protection against the corruption that begins to destroy the inner mentality to face the outside world.
Unrequitted love is hwat carried her into this pain filled misery,
Self-destructivec acts leave cut marks sliced into the flesh of her limbs,
Which only goes to show that her heart couldn't take the rath of pain,
This, her life sentence, she can never escape from.
So, one by one, down the hole does each pill go,
As each second ticks by, anticipation is now over taken by a shadow,
A shadow called Death.

im sorry, using only probs made me seem bigheaded about my poem, lolz, i just meant that it was my first draft, so if you can help me with it please do

this is only my first draft

theres no point she cries
immune to the pain
as she sighs again

ive lived my life to the full, she lies
as the tears start to stain
but they refuse to cry for her pain

she says theres no way out except down
and her voice is still on the wind as she hits the ground

You're a wasted grace
I've watched you since day one
You've changed yourself
Hiding behind the bracelets and black
Dark make up and black hair
For this I pity you
You smoke for one
Do drugs for another
Cut yourself for him
And starve yourself for another
There is nothing you wouldn't do for love
For this I pity you
Changing yourself for a boy
Losing your best friends
You don't know who you are anymore
You've wasted away from what you used to be
So I say farewell to you
Farewell to a wasted grace.
-Sunset

Close Cousins
but not the kissing kind
she never thought he'd cross that line
But as time goes by
the family falls apart
along with her and her heart

Close Cousins
But only in the friend way
That wasnt enough to fulfill his day
He took it a step further
Which made her feel the want of murder

Close Cousins
He wanted to be more then the kissing kind

Sleeping in the Enemy's Camp

Golden blood of dying friends,
Are caught trembling in my hands,
And as I weep a hollow sound,
My heart has broken.
What could have done this evil deed?
What monster foul and dark?
The answer comes as I see something shining
Stuck in a tree's good heart...
Their blood is on my shaking hands,
But I cannot weep for them,
For I cannot even weep for me,
I'm only wishing for the end.
I am the Heart!
Beating! Beating!
Someone protect my life!
I can feel them
Closer! Closer!
Don't let them destroy my home--
Don't let them destroy my Home!
I pull away, my thoughts my own...
But I can feel the Forest's Heart
If I can be the Forest, forest...
I won't let my Home,
Fall apart...


So that's that. (sigh) If you have no idea what I'm talking about, go to hell, just don't ask stupid questions like "what's the Heart?" "What is this about?" And other stupid things.

The light reflects off the water
the way I feel about you.
The water rolls off the leaves,
like a beautiful dew.
The trees whisper secerts
you only know,
it's our little secert,
where only we go.
The sun never set,
the moon never fades.
We laugh at the time
stuck between the days.


Love is one thing you can never do wrong.

I think you all will liek this poem by Emily Dickinson (1830-1886)

I am nobody, who are you?
Are you nobody too?
Then there's a pair, Don't tell
They'll banish us you know
How dreary to be somebody
How public like a frog
To tell the name-a livelong day
To an admiring bog.

~Emily Dickinson (1830-1886)

I am the new kid,
I hear laughing.
I wonder whom the laughter is coming from?
I see who it is,
I want to know why they are laughing?
I am the new kid.

I pretend I do not notice,
I feel embarrassed,
I touch my pocket.
I worry I will not make any friends.
I cry in fear.
I am the new kid.

I understand, they do not know the real me.
I say, “it is all OK.”
I dream I am back home with my friends.

I try to speak without stuttering.
I hope I find a friend in this chaotic crowd.
I am the new kid.