Stars at Night
I didn't think you could hurt me
but I was a fool
That's it
That's the end of this piece
I never rushed
or told myself stories
I never reminisced about yesterday's glories
and I blew out candles
lest they start fires
and rambled nonsense to the stars at night
I dunno. I guess I'm really tired. And this is nonsense. I'm well aware of it. Peace out.
You would think that I have a poetry blog because I write poems, but you'd be wrong. I write poems because I have a poetry blog. For the new comers, this is just a lame blog that I'm attempting to update regularly and I'm using "poems" as a gimmick for intros for what I feel like talking about. My apologies to those who were misled by google into thinking that this was what they were looking for.
Sunday, January 30, 2011
Tuesday, January 25, 2011
Commercials
Commercials
I was surprised yesterday
It's been a while since I've seen beauty
My current world too dark to see
the light just barely enough to see the walls
that enclose me
But yesterday, I saw the sun
it was bright and warm
full of charm and laughter
and a scent of lemon
(or maybe I've seen too many commercials)
I don't know what I wanted to write about today. But now that I'm done writing, I think I know what I should have written about. I guess I can try to remember it for next time. Sometimes it's hard to notice beauty when you are in a pretty regular routine. Everything feels the same today and yesterday and they will be the same again tomorrow. It's in these situations where beauty can surprise us because we don't expect it and sometimes beauty feels like it can be so rare at times. I heard a song yesterday. I think it was red or maybe yellow. Peace out.
I was surprised yesterday
It's been a while since I've seen beauty
My current world too dark to see
the light just barely enough to see the walls
that enclose me
But yesterday, I saw the sun
it was bright and warm
full of charm and laughter
and a scent of lemon
(or maybe I've seen too many commercials)
I don't know what I wanted to write about today. But now that I'm done writing, I think I know what I should have written about. I guess I can try to remember it for next time. Sometimes it's hard to notice beauty when you are in a pretty regular routine. Everything feels the same today and yesterday and they will be the same again tomorrow. It's in these situations where beauty can surprise us because we don't expect it and sometimes beauty feels like it can be so rare at times. I heard a song yesterday. I think it was red or maybe yellow. Peace out.
Sunday, January 23, 2011
Own It
Own It
I saw it and I bought it
like an itch that needed to be scratched
I needed to own it
and never have to give it back
I walked by you today
with an urge to tap your shoulder
I wished that I had needed to
I wish that I was bolder
I wish I had something to say
and the courage to have told her
Today I was thinking about ownership. I've been buying books lately like they grew on trees and it was fall and they fell off and I could pick them up for free. It got me thinking about how many times you have to read a book to justify buying it. I know that I own a few books that I've never read and I own other books that I've read way too many times. Then it got me thinking of how many times you need to listen to a CD to justify buying it. I don't think it is a simple as "if you listened to it once" it was worth the money type thing. I dunno how many listens it takes to have "used" the music so that it was worth the purchase.
Sometimes I think we just like to own things. I go through phases where I want to own things and other phases where I don't really have that urge. Right now I want to own things and I wish I didn't but at the same time, I wished I owned more things. I'm complicated. Peace out.
I saw it and I bought it
like an itch that needed to be scratched
I needed to own it
and never have to give it back
I walked by you today
with an urge to tap your shoulder
I wished that I had needed to
I wish that I was bolder
I wish I had something to say
and the courage to have told her
Today I was thinking about ownership. I've been buying books lately like they grew on trees and it was fall and they fell off and I could pick them up for free. It got me thinking about how many times you have to read a book to justify buying it. I know that I own a few books that I've never read and I own other books that I've read way too many times. Then it got me thinking of how many times you need to listen to a CD to justify buying it. I don't think it is a simple as "if you listened to it once" it was worth the money type thing. I dunno how many listens it takes to have "used" the music so that it was worth the purchase.
Sometimes I think we just like to own things. I go through phases where I want to own things and other phases where I don't really have that urge. Right now I want to own things and I wish I didn't but at the same time, I wished I owned more things. I'm complicated. Peace out.
Saturday, January 22, 2011
Meatloaf
Meatloaf
Introducing the new to the old
awkward at best
there's no rest for the wicked
or the juggling man
everything up in the air
It all crashes down
the sound is heartbreaking
the ground is shaking
and the meatloaf is dry
Sometimes I feel like I'm really juggling a lot but I don't think I've got that much on my plate in reality. Maybe if I spent less time thinking or remembering, I wouldn't feel so busy... my time so occupied.
I wish this poem was about you. Maybe it is. Peace out.
Introducing the new to the old
awkward at best
there's no rest for the wicked
or the juggling man
everything up in the air
It all crashes down
the sound is heartbreaking
the ground is shaking
and the meatloaf is dry
Sometimes I feel like I'm really juggling a lot but I don't think I've got that much on my plate in reality. Maybe if I spent less time thinking or remembering, I wouldn't feel so busy... my time so occupied.
I wish this poem was about you. Maybe it is. Peace out.
Wednesday, January 19, 2011
Kings
Kings
Is there a more wonderful thing
than to wake up married to a king?
The tea times in the royal courtyard
surrounded by your personal guard
Kings... who needs them? I think it would be weird to have a king. It won't be long until we have a reigning king. Craziness. Would they change all our currency right away? Peace out.
Is there a more wonderful thing
than to wake up married to a king?
The tea times in the royal courtyard
surrounded by your personal guard
Kings... who needs them? I think it would be weird to have a king. It won't be long until we have a reigning king. Craziness. Would they change all our currency right away? Peace out.
Monday, January 17, 2011
The Wind
The Wind
The winds picked up tonight
and blew away my dreams
the reams of paper
scattered to the winds
I sing to pass the time
powerless to stop it
How do you stop the wind?
it's power so deceiving
How do you stay true?
as the wind weathers your skin
I smelt a smile lingering in the wind
floating by and easily missed
a scent of a kiss
and chocolate chip cookies
Random... I know. I'm reading The Name of the Wind again. I've read it before and I think I've talked about it before as well. I'm reading it now in eBook form. I miss reading my books. I love my books and rereading them. There's something so comforting about reading a familiar book. People say that all the time. They recount tales about how they've read this one book or this one series so many times that they can't count. One day I want to read my favourite books... and that's the end of my thought. Is there a way I can do that for a living? Peace out.
The winds picked up tonight
and blew away my dreams
the reams of paper
scattered to the winds
I sing to pass the time
powerless to stop it
How do you stop the wind?
it's power so deceiving
How do you stay true?
as the wind weathers your skin
I smelt a smile lingering in the wind
floating by and easily missed
a scent of a kiss
and chocolate chip cookies
Random... I know. I'm reading The Name of the Wind again. I've read it before and I think I've talked about it before as well. I'm reading it now in eBook form. I miss reading my books. I love my books and rereading them. There's something so comforting about reading a familiar book. People say that all the time. They recount tales about how they've read this one book or this one series so many times that they can't count. One day I want to read my favourite books... and that's the end of my thought. Is there a way I can do that for a living? Peace out.
Sunday, January 16, 2011
Blink of an Eye
Blink of an Eye
Sometimes I wonder if I'd made a mistake
as the pressures of the world squeeze my chest
and upsets my stomach
I rummage through the thoughts I've collected
on pages scribbled in haste with blue pen
before the fleeting thought could get lost
I didn't write about you though
as if leaving you out would protect my future heart
If I had written my thoughts of you from the very start
(the likes of which could fill up pages)
maybe it would make you harder to forget
or remind me years later of the mountains of regret
But for a blink of an eye
a fleeting moment in time
I was yours and you were mine
I think I've spent the most time on this piece of all the pieces I've written lately. It just didn't seem to want to be written and I've taken a little extra care to be cryptic. It's interesting what we do with our feelings. Sometimes we bottle them up and hide them somewhere deep inside so that even you forget where you've hidden them... and other times you let them out and they have you sobbing in front of strangers. Oh what a night. Peace out.
Sometimes I wonder if I'd made a mistake
as the pressures of the world squeeze my chest
and upsets my stomach
I rummage through the thoughts I've collected
on pages scribbled in haste with blue pen
before the fleeting thought could get lost
I didn't write about you though
as if leaving you out would protect my future heart
If I had written my thoughts of you from the very start
(the likes of which could fill up pages)
maybe it would make you harder to forget
or remind me years later of the mountains of regret
But for a blink of an eye
a fleeting moment in time
I was yours and you were mine
I think I've spent the most time on this piece of all the pieces I've written lately. It just didn't seem to want to be written and I've taken a little extra care to be cryptic. It's interesting what we do with our feelings. Sometimes we bottle them up and hide them somewhere deep inside so that even you forget where you've hidden them... and other times you let them out and they have you sobbing in front of strangers. Oh what a night. Peace out.
The Next Best Thing
The Next Best Thing
I failed
and pale in comparison
to all the greats
the ones with dates
and holidays
I tried
but never got the knack
I try to add
but then have to subtract
and lessen my dream
settling for the next best thing
Today I read that poets are just failed singers. I think there's something interesting in that thought. People who write and sing definitely have a lot of talent. I wish I was a singer/songwriter. Previously I read that photographers are just failed artists. I think there's something interesting in that thought. There's one level of capturing the world with a camera, and then there's the next step of spitting the image out through the filter of your mind and eye, your imagination, your experiences. I wish I was an artist creating things of beauty. Peace out.
I failed
and pale in comparison
to all the greats
the ones with dates
and holidays
I tried
but never got the knack
I try to add
but then have to subtract
and lessen my dream
settling for the next best thing
Today I read that poets are just failed singers. I think there's something interesting in that thought. People who write and sing definitely have a lot of talent. I wish I was a singer/songwriter. Previously I read that photographers are just failed artists. I think there's something interesting in that thought. There's one level of capturing the world with a camera, and then there's the next step of spitting the image out through the filter of your mind and eye, your imagination, your experiences. I wish I was an artist creating things of beauty. Peace out.
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