Acclude's Poetry Thread

[ACCLUDE91]

but I love the disclaimer in your sig now

ehulst, once again good stuff man!

I'll post up some more stuff, but it's late and I'm tired right now

[lil_dcb7]

Good shit guys. I actually dig poetry when the mood is right, call me emo, what ever.. i have a few of my own.

heres one i made for a very close friend of mine on valentines day, she lives far from me, so i texted this to her:

I wish I were there
So you’d be my valentine
To give you a diamond ring
One with a miraculous shine

To hold you close and do you no harm
You’ll be safe
Think of me as your good luck charm

To spend this special day together
With love so strong
You would want it to last forever

I want you to be my valentine
So I could give you a special present
One that comes from behind

Every word here I say is true
When I heard it was Valentines Day
The first person I thought about was you.


i wrote this one too


Let me tell you something true…
That love is the only feeling I have for you

I’ve thought and came to the conclusion,
That us together is a mere illusion…

I want to hold your hand and make you
mine in every way,
But I can’t, even though I see you each and
every day…

Sin tú amor, without your love I’m like a train
wreck,
Me without you, is like a geek without his star
trek

My friends tell me not to linger, that I should move
on,
I tell them I don’t like you anymore, but my feelings
for you still aren’t gone

I remember the first time I saw you, I thought
“That girl looks like she’s got an attitude”
Little do you know is that my feelings for you
went higher than a plane’s altitude

Cupid shot his arrow, hitting me point blank
When you said you didn’t feel the same way,
my heart just sank…

I cried deep inside, trying hard not to show it,
I wanted you badly, but you just didn’t know it…

Let me tell you something true…
That the only girl I love is you…


well in short i got over that one ^ still a pretty good piece.


and a few months ago, i had a weird assed dream about this girl named juliet, so i made a poem for that

To My Juliet

To my Juliet,

With those deep hazel eyes that go on forever

When we find each other

I know my life won’t need to get any better

To my Juliet,

With your soft, beautiful, light skin I long to touch

When we find each other

I’ll do anything for you
It’s only because I love you so much

You came to me in my dreams and said,
‘…It’s been long enough…’

When we find each other

All the struggle will be worth it, my
Life so rough…

With all the scandal, drama and heartbreak
I’ve been though

When we find each other

I wont hesitate to finally say
“I Love you”

For my Juliet…

EDIT:

found another one

Prayer

God, I come to you, battered and beaten…
From the tree of knowledge of good and evil,
I have eaten

I know I’ve done wrong, I’m not perfect
The misery I felt,
Not even that of a mass murder suspect

Life was hard, every day, even to get up in the morning,
To begin the rat race again
No one told me about life, not even the slightest warning

You gotta bang this, you gotta claim that
The peer pressure was hard
I nearly gave my mom a heart attack

Taking for granted, each time you allowed my lungs to take a breath
Not realizing where I could end up
Forgetting that my very next step, could mean a loved one’s death

Live life by the gun. That’s the way I idolized
Not seeing my stupidity
I had to end it soon. That’s what I realized

I wanted out, but I didn’t know what the hell I should do first
The drama, the problems…
I HAD to get out, before the shit in my life got any worse

That’s when I decided I had to take action
Correct my life…
Not just for my own personal satisfaction

Then I found you, Lord God, your Word gave me a message
I admit, I broke down
When evil tempted, it was you that gave me the advantage

Because Lord, you taught me to find the good in all men
Because Lord, you showed me the way
And I cant thank you enough each day, thank you, Amen.

[ACCLUDE91]

That prayer is awesome!!! Got me thinking very deep

I loved this line in the 2nd one "Me without you, is like a geek without his star trek" hehe instant classic

[lil_dcb7]

That prayer is awesome!!! Got me thinking very deep

I loved this line in the 2nd one "Me without you, is like a geek without his star trek" hehe instant classic

Gracias

[ACCLUDE91]

I take a deep breath
and sigh....
Maybe it's because no matter how much direction and realistic thinking I possess, I still feel lost. Or maybe it's because no matter how important I feel or how many important people I have in my life, I still feel alone. Or maybe it's because no matter how good things are going and how positive everything looks, I still feel sad. Or maybe it's because no matter how much I accomplish or acquire, I still fell deprived. A sigh is just a sigh, or is it? Could a sigh be an unconscience expression for absolute uncertainty that just can't be expressed by words?

[i'm the girl]

wow good to see so many laying out their hearts... nice job everyone ...


hmmm 10 years of this... here's some of my more recent lyrics:
**p.s. these are copyrighted, please don't steal **


switchblades and alchohol hear it
cleverly in sleep i remember better times
switchblades and alcohol
cutting up your words and forging dreams
i don't mean to brag but i am better off this way

so you say

you swear i'd miss you
but i swear i'm more alive and i am better off myself

this time i know

out there is something much more comfortable
more feasible, believable
suited to everything i've earned to love

cleverly in sleep i try to see a way
through sillhouettes of light
remnants of happier times
but these hands are too tired, too overworked to feel
this heart is beating for the last time

so you say

you swear i'd miss you
but i swear i'm more alive and i am better off myself

this time i know

out there is something much more comfortable
more feasible, believable
suited to everything i've earned to love

i have earned this, and you can't take that away

i have earned this

=================================================

and heres something i wrote last nite:

i hate trying to force the words
force myself to speak
because you say you want me to say what's on my mind
but i know you won't hear any of it

and so here i am stuck somewhere
between honesty and undecided secrecy


... where do we go from here?

i'm tired of this repetition
superstisious skepticism
i just need someone to believe
undoubtedly and without question

please for once, for me, for us
just shut your mouth and open your mind
open your eyes in heartfelt indescretion
and i swear... ...this has to make sense

if you just have faith in what is felt but remains unseen
and be true to what we both know you already believe

because you know as well as i
that there are limits beyond the sky
and life is nothing
but a means to find an end

so while we're here in our young skin
let's swim the sea we're drowning in
its soon enough to begin again
and too shallow to fall away too soon

so where do we go from here?

[ACCLUDE91]

Nice song!!!, thanks for including it! Most of mine are set to music but none recorded right now Listening to it and reading it at the same time has so much more impact. Very heartfelt. Good stuff

[i'm the girl]

Nice song!!!, thanks for including it! Most of mine are set to music but none recorded right now Listening to it and reading it at the same time has so much more impact. Very heartfelt. Good stuff

thanks

a lot of it's really raw - most of my studio files aren't even worth uploading yet

you're stuff is good to read without music, too - and that's a big difference between good writing and bad writing... because words on paper have nothing to dress them up

[Smokinspeeds]

Wow reading to music.. speakin of which im_the_girl what kind of music is that written for? You sound like you are actually recording it yourself. Home studio? (heh like all of us) My poems themselves aren't written to/for music and I haven't even though of reading them with music. Personally don't prefer freestyle that much because lots of people think that all of a sudden they are writers. If you feel like you wrote something that helped you cool, but there are specific ways of writing true freestyle and people normally think that anything that sounds 'mystical' or 'deep' can be classified as such. My brother got a small poem published in the poetry.com book and so we got the book, and man like more than half of what was in there was garbage. Personal preference perhaps but just because something is cool doesn't mean everybody has to be good at it ya know? I like people with good voices but I don't try to sing all the time or show off my voice because I don't have enough control to consistenly sound good. Anyways I'll end rant and add something else I've written:

"The Wind"

The Wind, The Wind.
It sometimes whistles, it sometimes howls.
Blowing over cemeteries that hold the tales of ghouls.
Blowing through an abandoned building, an old school.
Over a grass field, over a river.
The wind makes me shiver.
I feel a tingle, a small fright
As of the wind, I write.

The Wind, The Wind
It may blow hard, it may blow soft.
It makes a ship sail,
It keeps it aloft.
The Wind is soft, the Wind is frail.
Flowing over the sea, full of sea air.
Blowing over the desert,
Blowing sand in my hair.

The Wind, The Wind,
It mayt blow east, it may blow west
O’er the snow-capp Alps,
Above the clouds
Feeling the snowy wind chill my scalp
Blowing in an unknown land
Not found on any map,
Not walked on by man

Jeremiah Dingemans

wrote that about 5-6 years ago in 9nth grade for a project. Could be better imo but it's decent. Any votes that I should post a short fiction essay?(kinda but it is related to writing )

[ACCLUDE91]

Post what you want! It doesn't HAVE TO BE a poetry!

[Smokinspeeds]

Mystic Cabin
Jeremiah Dingemans

I once visited a mystic cabin, where an old trapper had once lived. There was a warm feeling about the place, and everyone who stepped in to this warm place felt a sense of tranquility. The old trapper had arranged everything so he would feel peace and relaxation after a long day of setting traps and hunting game.
As I approached the hill where his cabin lies, I did not see the cabin; instead, a small, worn footpath through many trees and light brush. I followed the trail through trees and brush, curving around a small pool, an old fallen tree; the whole path lined with the colored leaves of fall, now wet and limp from winter’s first frost. Nearing the end of this path I saw the old cabin, shaded by towering oaks, now bare, showing the evidence that fall had come. Smoke was coming out of a stovepipe, filling the air with the scent of freshly cut hickory. Next to the cabin was a large pile of split logs. Beside the pile were a few unsplit logs, and an ax hastily thrown against the old stump that was used as a stand for splitting the logs. Closer to the cabin, I saw many skins stretched out across the cabin, so many that the house appeared to be wearing a fur coat. Every part was covered with beaver skins, beaver skins, and more beaver skins, placed so close they seemed to be holding hands. The exception was the door. A beautiful silver wolf skin guarded the entrance of the cabin, stretching so long that the tail swept the floor as anyone came or left. There was a small porch that lined the front of the house, with an old rocking chair next to the door. On the well-weathered chair was a raccoon skin, with its striped tail standing out against the cracked gray dowels running down the chair’s back.
As I approached the simple yet somehow complex structure, I smelled the aroma of biscuits and fresh game over that of the innumerable skins that surrounded me. As I entered I was greeted by the trapper’s grandson, who still maintained the cabin for seasonal visits. His wife was by a small black stove in the back left corner of the cabin. She was warming up some hot cider on the top in a small copper pot. Near the stove was a small table, made from split boards of oak. The surface was rough, although years of regular use had worn away the splinters. In the middle of the table was an unlit oil lamp, used to illuminate the cabin when night fell for reading or studying before going to sleep. Next to the lamp was a basket of fresh biscuits that was getting cold, so we sat down and ate them with some hand-harvested honey.
I talked with the trapper’s grandson and his wife, now in their middle fifties. The Johnsons, as they were known, did not hunt or trap for a living, instead, they had a farm in the flat lands a few miles from the old cabin and it’s hunting grounds. They kept up the cabin for the sake of memory and tradition. Oh what memorable moments they had had at that old cabin. All old timers had their hunting tales, and the old trapper had passed his down to his kids, while making a few new ones right along with them. Like the time Mr. Johnson was fishing with his grandfather the old trapper. They had had a pretty good day. Together they had a picnic of homemade bread and honey, with fresh picked blueberries from some nearby bushes. With tonges still blue and the taste of honey still lingering in their mouths, they started fishing. After catching a few trout from the stream, a bear appeared out of nowhere, having come for berries and then smelling the more delectable fish. Smelling the fish, the


bear did not back down despite much jumping and yelling from the trapper. Instead, he decided to charge in an attempt to chase the innocent fishermen away so he could have his lunch. Having no time to get his gun, the trapper told his grandson to run, while he drew his hunting knife from his hunting belt. He was standing beside a large tree, and ducked behind the tree when the bear charged. He ran around the tree and grabbed a handful of bear fur from behind the stunned bear as he reached forward and slit his throat.
“Is that were this bear skin under this table came from?” I asked as I realized that under my chair was the head of a bear, and under my feet was a soft animal skin. “Yes” he replied. There was a badger skin on the wall next to the side window, which was opposite the stove. “That came skin is from the time my grandpa’s dog chased a badger right into its hole. The dog backed out as the badger turned around and returned the dog’s anger. The dog drew the badger out of the hole enough for Grandpa to shoot it. Grandpa had the dog several more years, and that dog had the nerve to do it again, but there weren’t any more badgers in the area so he never got the chance. If there were any more ‘round these parts, there would be more than one badger skin on that wall.” He said laughing heartily, nearly choking on his hot cider.
I could have stayed and listened to stories for hours, but the light from outside was dimming, and I had to be on my way. Too bad there was only one small cot, the cabin was so warm and cozy I would have gladly spent the night. The Johnsons had to head back to their farm to finish up their evening chores, so I said good-bye and turned to leave. After a few steps I turned and looked back at the little cabin, soaking up the last sight of this piece of history, trying to make it last. When I think about the trip, I still remember the last look. In my mind, I still see the smoke coming out of the pipe from the stove, and I can still smell the biscuits and cider.....

[ACCLUDE91]

just a story? or is any truth/memory to it? A lot of good details!


another quick one-

The red letters that say 4:58 are staring me in the face. I guess it's another sleepless night to add to the list of lonely, misserable nights. I lay in bed with the mysteries and daily trials of life on my mind, totally awake, thinking about what is and what should never be. I can't believe that my mind has the power to overcome my exhausted body and deprive it of sleep. There should be no physical way I'm awake right now, but somehow - It's happening Again! For years now I've struggled to sleep a normal schedule, but I guess it can't happen anyways becuase I have no normal schedule.

[ACCLUDE91]

bump

I know we got more poets on here!

[Ralphie]

bringing it back from the dead!

Damn there were a lot of good write ups on here!!

Any new stuff???

[Gemini]

Ok bringing this back from the dead
I got so much shit going on in my mind I might not be able to put down a good freestyle/slam poem but here goes......


I have tasted the bitter fruit of hatred once before
With shock and disgust I spit it out
How does one live with such things
It makes hearts disappear like an eclipse
while never getting back the memories of pure bliss
Only one with a minute understanding of life dwells in such sin
If only we could bottle the brilliant invention of love
Instead of sinking our teeths in this hatred like soft mud
There is days I dream and wish for change
But only the lord can encourage such metamorphis