Grawl's Words

So recently I started to write poems - without a real reason, without a real source, but I must say I pretty much like it. But you know, I probably suck at it. However, let's get it started in here.

Superficial

Sitting in the train
endless streams of landscape passing by
just as the thoughts in my head
coming and going
but never there to stay.

Beautiful landscape, ugly landscape
good thought, bad thought
love, pain, anger, hate
coming and going
but never there to stay.

Sucked into oblivion
by this endless void
of emotions.
Coming and going,
but never there to stay.

Dark as night
bright as day
it doesn't matter to me, since they are
coming and going
but never there to stay.

Human Nature

What sometimes seems like a gift,
sometimes feels like a curse.
What sometimes feels like freedom,
sometimes feels like a cage.

Is the grass always greener on the other side?
Is being free a burden,
and being locked a gift?

Is it human nature,
to have what you like,
but not to like what you have?

It may...

It may be your eyes,
it may be your smile.
It may be your hair,
it may be your cry.

It may be your scent,
it may be your touch.
It may be your hugs,
it may be your love.

It may be your love,
and it might not be it.

And it may just be it,
but it might not be love.

All I know is;
I'm drowning in it.

How ya doing, buddy?

I really like Superficial, Grawl. But I don't believe that they don't have a source. Every poem has a source of somekind.

There's nowhere I can't reach.

Originally Posted by Jessykins &lt

I really like Superficial, Grawl. But I don't believe that they don't have a source. Every poem has a source of somekind.

Tis a Muse!

Seriously though Grawl, I understand the feeling. I am writing a speech for something(or was) right now, and I finished it in record time. 10 minutes roughly, no errors, exactly how I wanted it, and then when I moved on to the next thing(a 10 minute piece of poetry) I got about 5 lines into it and just was unable to go any further...that was a week ago...I still have only added 3 lines since then...

Oh, and of course, props for writing poerty. Maybe I will eventually get man enough to share some of mine somewhere. I really like It May. That one is really touching...

This thing is sticky, and I don't like it. I don't appreciate it.

Silence

And as I turn off the TV,
I also kill the voices,
kill the light,
and darkness surrounds me.

And you might think,
that darkness equals being lonely.
But that's where you are wrong,
since this is where the fun starts.

Silence,
Silence,
Silence,
Silence,
Silence,
Thoughts.

Sonnet

Is this really me?
Shouting at words "Come on! Rhyme!
Don't be lazy! Working time!"
Wasting words, like a-b-c.

Water supply, turn a blind eye,
apropos, cheateaux,
dumb show, quid pro quo,
applie pie, Edward VI... kidney pie.

And now you all want a chute,
invented by some guy called de Lentini,
singing and playing on his flute.

But to me he is a meanie,
(and this may cause some bad repute)
and whoever writes a sonnet a weeny.

I am a dolphin, do you want me on your body?

Thinking of You

Words,
flowing like the undertow,
streaming like a river,
endlessly,
but I'm not listening.

My mind is here,
but my mind is not.
Just thinking of you,
that's all I can do.

Thoughts,
flowing like the undertow,
streaming like a river,
endlessly,
but I'm not thinking.

My mind is here,
but my mind is not.
Just thinking of you,
that's all I can do.

I was speaking idiomatically.

Fine

I still miss you,
but don't regret the things I did.
And you don't care what you did to me,
so things are fine.

Did I say fine?
I didn't lie.
I'm falling apart,
devestated,
destroyed,
heartbroken.
I'm feeling great,
I'm fine.

Do you think this poem is about you?
It's about a different girl -
you don't know her.
Don't worry, things are fine.

Dreams of death haunt my head
and the knife looks appealing.
Why shouldn't I do it?
Everything's perfect,
it's all fine.

What kind of toxic man-thing is happening now?

Cool. I like the one on human nature, especially the penultimate stanza. Is the grass always greener on the other side really struck me.

FELIPE NO

Watashi Ano Kori Ni Modoritai

Happiness!!
That's what Kaela Kimura told me.
Happiness!!
As if.

As if,
such a thing would happen.
Unforseen circumstances,
happiness??

No one saw this coming,
no one wished for this,
but still it happened.
Happiness...

What, you don't want my bikini-clad body?

Hahah! Watashi Ano Kori Ni Modoritai is my favorite.

Yeah. I really like poems where the writer is having fun with it, and it's conveyed in the poem. Silence does that, too, I think. I think you have a knack for it, but the best practice is to keep doing them and realizing how shitty old stuff is in comparison. Some of my poems from like 2 years ago are so freaking arbitrary and subjective that the only reason I remember what they're about is because I have a personal attachment to them. Obviously, you'll want to try to avoid arbitrary subjective rantings... without letting the reader in on why stuff is happening.

Do have fun with words and cleverings!

Most amazing jew boots

I liked the flow of "It may..." and "Fine" really touched me. You do well in evoking an emotional response from your readers. Please continue.

There's nowhere I can't reach.

Trudy

When I first looked at you,
my eyes focused on your eyes,
beautiful ocean.
And that ocean,
made me sink into thoughts,
deeper and deeper,
just like an ocean.

But not quite.
I was able to breath,
enjoy life.
Sinking, yet alive,
into your eyes.

If it'd stop there,
it'd be fine.
Just those eyes...
then it'd be fine.

But you got so much to offer.
A smile, a joke, an opinion,
an argument, compassion, and trust.
But most of all,
the touch.

But I will never commit that sin.

So -- goodbye.

This thing is sticky, and I don't like it. I don't appreciate it.

Originally Posted by Grawl

Superficial

Sitting in the train
endless streams of landscape passing by
just as the thoughts in my head
coming and going
but never there to stay.

Beautiful landscape, ugly landscape
good thought, bad thought
love, pain, anger, hate
coming and going
but never there to stay.

Sucked into oblivion
by this endless void
of emotions.
Coming and going,
but never there to stay.

Dark as night
bright as day
it doesn't matter to me, since they are
coming and going
but never there to stay.

I won't lie - I don't like it. It doesn't feel genuine - more like the musings of a bored train passenger.

The third stanza doesn't seem to have any logical connection the the first two. In the first one you are in a train, in the second you are looking out of the window, and in the third you are playing Oblivion ~_~
The same goes for the fourth stanza - try to keep the outside world thread throughout the poem. I think it would add structure and focus. In the same breath, try to contrast it against your inner thoughts and reflect on the similarities and differences between the two.

Also, the word 'landscape' seems to jar with 'thought' in the second stanza. I think it may be due to the fact that landscape is two words and in the same parallel idea, thought is a single word. Try substituting a single word for landscape and see if it flows better.

I hope some of that helps

I am a dolphin, do you want me on your body?

Originally Posted by neus

and in the third you are playing Oblivion ~_~

Are you aware that oblivion is a normal word, and not just a game?

ob‧liv‧i‧on  /əˈblɪviən/ Pronunciation Key - Show Spelled Pronunciation[uh-bliv-ee-uhn] Pronunciation Key - Show IPA Pronunciation
–noun
1. the state of being completely forgotten or unknown: a former movie star now in oblivion.
2. the state of forgetting or of being oblivious: the oblivion of sleep.
3. official disregard or overlooking of offenses; pardon; amnesty.

I was speaking idiomatically.