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Literature Text
Words do little
But drift between lines
Of this still, suffering mind.
(tell tales like
secrets born of
haunted houses
or creaky old floors.)
Something is gone,
The sense of the 'other than',
Beyond self or reason.
(water over or under
bridges burning,
or building,
up and away
from what was.)
But what won't be,
Is the still thought of
This could-be-man.
(stuck underneath weight,
histories, in re-dug
excavated graves like
picked scabs raw
to the air and
fresh to the mind.)
Lost to him, the subtle differences
Between being alive and living.
But drift between lines
Of this still, suffering mind.
(tell tales like
secrets born of
haunted houses
or creaky old floors.)
Something is gone,
The sense of the 'other than',
Beyond self or reason.
(water over or under
bridges burning,
or building,
up and away
from what was.)
But what won't be,
Is the still thought of
This could-be-man.
(stuck underneath weight,
histories, in re-dug
excavated graves like
picked scabs raw
to the air and
fresh to the mind.)
Lost to him, the subtle differences
Between being alive and living.
Literature
Awoken
In my head it rains when you're away
But when you're here it pours
I'm really not sure if you should stay
I'm no longer yours
But maybe we're better off this way
No more you and me
You broke my heart
It was never meant to be
I think it's time for us to depart
That's what I'm starting to see
Doesn't matter how hard I try
I just cant forget you
The thought of you makes me cry
Now that I know we're through
I find myself wanting to die
Maybe I'm better off pretending
Thinking that I never met you
So I wont have to pretend
That your feelings were true
Then maybe my heart would mend
But without you here
My heart is forever brok
Literature
It Feels Like Falling In Love
Your eyes, your hand,
Your lips, they land...
Right on the edge of something bright
Poignant, coy, yet dangerously right
Let's weave together like the first time we met
But first, just tell me that what you said, you meant
Our hands clasp together, tighter than before
I hear your words whispered softly, "More..."
I crack a smile, and brush back your hair
Yet sadly, my love, I feel that you don't care
I want to love someone, of that much I knew,
But did I really, truly, honestly love... you?
Of course I did, and I still do,
I will never fall out of love with you...
Literature
The Pain
I am waiting,
For some sense of order
It's so frustrating,
Because I feel I'm getting older
And I remember,
All the days gone by
I have days I hurt so bad...
All I can do is cry
Yes, I live with this pain,
And I feel every day lost,
Is just another gained
It is the rhythm of my life,
And it forces me to change
I am who I am,
And it is who I shall remain
I am speaking,
Of a life filled with wonder
And I am remembering,
A life torn all asunder
It's so heartbreaking,
To see the look in your eyes
And when I look past my pride,
I see I'm not the only one who cries
Yes, I live with this pain
And even as I look back upon my l
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Work in Progress - Written December 22, 2008 (Updated July 11, 2009)
EDIT:
After a critique from *Cyantre I took another look at Suffering Mind and made some changes. A few small word choices, removed a line, reformatted the italics portions, and added a stanza (hopefully tieing in the last two lines a little better.) The original is below, I would love to know if you like the changes, and of course all other crit and comments are welcome!
Special Thanks to *Cyantre for taking the time to read, think about, and critique.
Original
------
Words do little
But drift between lines
Of the still, suffering mind.
Play tricks for treats!
and tell tales like
secrets born of
haunted houses
or creaky old floors.
And something is gone,
The sense of 'other than',
Beyond a self or reason
Water over or under
bridges burning,
or building,
up and away
from what was.
But what won't be,
Is the still thought of
This could-be-man,
Lost to him, the subtle differences
Between being alive and living.
EDIT:
After a critique from *Cyantre I took another look at Suffering Mind and made some changes. A few small word choices, removed a line, reformatted the italics portions, and added a stanza (hopefully tieing in the last two lines a little better.) The original is below, I would love to know if you like the changes, and of course all other crit and comments are welcome!
Special Thanks to *Cyantre for taking the time to read, think about, and critique.
Original
------
Words do little
But drift between lines
Of the still, suffering mind.
Play tricks for treats!
and tell tales like
secrets born of
haunted houses
or creaky old floors.
And something is gone,
The sense of 'other than',
Beyond a self or reason
Water over or under
bridges burning,
or building,
up and away
from what was.
But what won't be,
Is the still thought of
This could-be-man,
Lost to him, the subtle differences
Between being alive and living.
© 2008 - 2024 ihaveastory
Comments33
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Overall Vision Originality Technique ImpactThere are a few poems I have seen where there are essentially two voices within the piece. One voice being the focal point of the piece, and other serving as more of an internal voice commenting on different parts of the piece. From my experience, putting the internal voice in brackets works best.
The poem itself is on its way to being a good piece, but it feels a bit like a rough draft. Fleshing out the poem a bit more, adding more verses, and developing the message you are trying to convey to the reader would help this piece immensely.