- Books, Literature, and Writing
High School Poetry
Dark Poetry Part 1 of 2
For todays Hub, I had decided to pull up my old poems from High School. It took a lot of work to edit since my spelling and grammar was not up to par. It is interesting to see the love and passion as well as the dark and dreary emotions that had arised in my youth.
Lost in this world
Reinventing myself as I roam, taking in all aspects of life. I used to walk along the roads, always wanting to get to a specific point but never knowing what or where it was. The skies part as I begin to envision my own being, possibilities seem endless and flying couldn’t be more real. I’m not sure what I want, aware of my characteristics I keep them tucked away. I finally understand that it’s the things you accomplish and experiences that create who you are. In the end I feel alive, this new world delivers hope. It is almost too much to fathom but in the end, this is who I am. Experiencing life as its thrown at me, plan for the unexpected, don’t plan to know what’s coming, you’ll simply eliminate the thrill of it all. This shell that surrounds me chips away, I breathe for the first time.
Erasing emotions from history pretending like they never existed. The emptiness weaves its way through my heart sprouting out as if it were a tendril. It embeds itself like a thorn ripping into the layers of flesh where love seems to be set in stone. Trickling down through the stale air, ruby raindrops flood innocent eyes making the world nothing more than a haze. Life is seemingly frozen in space twirling with nothing more than a shred of hope numbing all of my senses. My limbs twitch as it sinks deep within, it seeps into my veins, a toxic poison soaking the essence of living. Swimming in a sea of anesthesia allows feelings to be at ease, the faint whisper of a soul can only be heard when one takes a moment to listen.
I’m lost and have nowhere to go, no one understands or could possibly ever understand the pain that ruptures inside. Everything goes dim, silence is a blessing but words scream piercing everything and pop out of my skin. What comes out is all I have, my words and thoughts secure my heart that drifts through the wind lifelessly. Not deserving love is life’s biggest burden; cold & scarred my skin is tough. I talk to all but connect with few, being alone is my ecstasy, love is heaven on earth. Great things are hard to find, almost non-existent. My heartbeat paint’s a photograph with each beat, bursting out colors of life in its purest form. My life turns into a canvas & tells a story with each drop of blood, it sings as it touches the warm summer air. My soul seems to touch all who look upon its beauty, raining down images of the past suck the life right out of me. Blood trickles from my perception; I wipe it away quickly to show no pain. If you look deep into my eyes you’ll withdraw my soul, breath my pulse, hear the faint cry of my aspirations, be warmed by my arms, glimpse my goals, & feel my pain.
Studied under a microscope and kept at a distance. Nothing more than a project to the curious, If I could look deep inside myself and see what I am, only carnage would appear. Ripping at my sole ravaging the only piece of heart I have left, Hell becomes a reality. There is much more to the eye than what appears, Piercing blades cut deep into its core allowing a glimpse of the future. You cannot tame a plague, all are a subject of its own will, twisting your body in ways never thought possible. It courses through your veins like your very own blood doused in liquor, it consumes you & becomes a part of you. Death creeps in slowly & painfully, satin couldn’t have done a better job. Cities in the wake of such chaos turn to rubble. Every escape, every bridge incinerates into flames scorching all survivors burning their flesh from their soul. Engulfed in flames and fumes the reaper himself is carried out on a golden platter. Crimson red rain drops roll off his robe falling to the world below; they glisten with a tint of orange light that illuminates from hell below. Drifting into sleep and another reality brings new life. But the taste of Iron sets in heavy, reminding the subconscious of its past. His eyes are sharp; they sing heavy notes of sorrow and radiate pain throughout the stale August sky.
The next poem I had written was for extra credit in my sophomore year of high school. This is about the only thing I remember from that year besides reading "The Great Gatsby".
The rain came down as hard as a hammer driving each nail into the ground; it could puncture all life and create an earthquake, a seismic shock that turned everything into a fiery hell. The flame danced around in the moonlight and mocked all that existed; vivid colors lit up the dark a crimson red a dark orange and a yellow that would put the sun to shame. It was almost like an atomic bomb and the toxic waste flooded even the keenest brain.
Dangling on a rope with a flare of evil that would soon consume me, it would seem as if it would be my fate. But, at an instance I dropped and I fell endlessly moving through white powdered clouds that glistened in the light. They shimmered as they streaked downward and fell upon the tree’s, but they left a trail of their past that would only catch up with them. The branches drooped with the weight of the world it’s only a matter of time until they break once again.
I could stand here endlessly and all would look past me. I feel like a wall as their gazes are empty. They all look beyond, I speak with out words standing as still as a tree in a calm summer night. The look in the eyes of your love are dead, it’s like a flower in the middle of winter. It is as bitter as a feud between nations and as lifeless as the deepest depths of the ocean. It could break even the brightest soul and the strongest heart.
I wasn't just a dot on a sheet of paper; I was part of something great. I was part of some ones history, as they were apart of mine. They may not remember me years from now, but for that moment I wasn't just a friend, I was a piece of them. & even though it’s gone and done, I still can’t deny the fact that at one point I was their pride, their love, and their best friend. I would rather have had all that then nothing at all. Because now I have something to aim at, rather than walking down a drunken path disregarding life’s most beautiful thing...
Past Love Poems
I hope everyone has enjoyed them this far, one thing I had intended to do was paint a colorful image when I had written them. To read more of my old poetry read Past Love Poems.
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