Poems and Poets

Different. It is said Whether Destined or Desired, They don’t know But She is Different. It’s a Longing, For something unforeseen, that She has It’s A need that cannot be Culled, Or cured or confiscated or commandeered; It’s A sentiment, That cannot be stripped That cannot be seized It is a sentiment that grows Unruly, restless, climbing through her Threatening to escape through every breath, To Pour out with every conversation To prove her wrong, To prove her different But the drive, the dedication, the desire she has Shouldn’t be destroyed for the difference. Shouldn’t be ripped apart, piece by piece For the person that she is Nor should everything be shredded, From her values to her beliefs, From her success to her strength Merely, Merely, For her Difference. But torn apart, she will be And left untouched She will never be She is the difference. Not just that Here, she is the crime The secret, the oppre...

Realize the Despondence Sorrowful melodies ricochet off the ears, Of the tone-deaf slaves Whose brittle bones and skins of dust, Blend into the soil they sow Gorgeous scenes never reach the eyes, Of the colour-blind slaves, Whose work shades their eyes From the beauty of their world Detritus that is art, Screeches that are music, Remain unrealized by the slaves Subject to a life of labour, Exploited into believing that they work voluntarily, Returning home to a tedium of family and biased information, The slave remains trapped in their cell To change their lives, I would like From an acceptance of monotony, To a realization of despondence To visit their hearts, I would like, Realize their despondence, And carry it with me To open their eyes, I would like, To the magnificence of a scene, In all its spectacular glory To change their despondence, To an embrace of culture, I would hope to accomplish To let them se...

Packaged and shipped,  To another world entirely, With the promise of a fonder heart,  Once she returns  Can that be promised? That alleged increase in love? The absence does not determine love, Only hinders its natural process  Return, she does, to a fonder heart, As well as to broken ties,  Between relations, unfortunately  That she can no longer call hers  What a gamble they take, For an increase in love, Love that cannot grow,  For it was always infinite  "Absence makes the heart grow fonder", So they say, but is there truth  To the saying that does nothing,  But encourage the gamble? Gamble, if you must With the materialistic clutter That you so often are regaled with Risk, if you must The lavish glory of your excess, That you often revel in Speculate not, Of the increase in emotions, So undefinable, so fleeting "Absence makes the heart grow fonder" So they say, but...

Willing to plunge into ice-water, Watering my empty seed, Sowing seeds of forgiveness, Capable of forgiving life Willing to race across fire, Flaming, my heart will beat, Constant beats of joy, Capable of giving life happiness Willing to fly among smoke, Choked, my lungs will try to breathe, Breathe out my expressions, Capable of giving life meaning Willing to pound through wood, My wooden, numb arms moving, Rudimentary human movements, Capable of giving life purpose Willing to burn and freeze If only it would offer a purpose, A meaning, a hidden value Capable of destruction, If only it would offer a happiness, A forgiving nature To all of what was expressed

Faithful to her Pride, Disloyal to her emotion She hides, she skulks, Away from prying eyes Eyes that tear her apart, Evaluating her soul, Eyes that mean well, That feel entitled to judge Faithful to her Pride, Trembling at a confession, She screams, she shouts To conceal her emotion Emotion that threatens, To make her vulnerable Emotion that is her truth, That needs to be expressed Faithful to her Pride, Scared of her reality, She pretends, she imagines To avoid her certainty -Poem Fanatic

We dreamed, when we were kids, Of a love, Of a life We hoped, that when we grew, We'd have a fair chance At success, At life We dreamed, when we were teenagers, Of truths, that were concealed We hoped, that when we grew, We'd have a fair chance, At integrity, at truth We tried, when we were in between, To have a fair life, a truthful one We hoped, that someday We'd be better, we'd be stronger We dreamed, as adolescents Of world, we could believe in We hoped that if we worked, We'd have a fair chance, In a world that was ours We tried, when we were so lost, To have a compass, a moral one We hoped, that someday  Our world'd be lively not murderous We dreamed, when were sorrowful, Indignant at the world, Of a humane place for us to grow, For us to learn in We hoped, when we couldn't act, Of a power, of a protest To help us, make it possible, For us to live, a better life We tried, whe...

Pin me down, Staple my wings (That you claim you can't see) I'll still fly with the wind Tie me up,  Chain me to my seat, My wings will still Find a way to sprout Fly with the wind, I will, one day soon A day that you won't Determine, delay, or deter I'll reach new heights, Stand atop skyscrapers, My wings will back down, Only when they need to My wings grow with me, They'll disappear only, When I decide it's time Not when your torture, Puts them in discomfort Fly with the wind, I will, one day soon A day that you won't Determine, delay, or deter -Poem Fanatic

Wreak havoc, On the institution  That tells you, you need them Let them know, You will be yourself, Regardless of who you depend on Declare yourself, A beauty, a genius, A protege, a star Without their official recognition Don't count on going far, Without the authority's name, Emblazoned across your chest Know that you can do it, With perseverance, If you proclaim that you can -Poem Fanatic

Purge, and in doing so, Discover the forgotten That were deemed redundant Yet for some reason,  The redundancy didn't motivate  The purger at the time, To dispose of the object Now, purger debates; At the time, I felt the need To hold on, but not grasp it Will I ever grasp it? Purge, and in doing so, Discover the memories That were deemed embellishments Yet for some reason, The embellishments didn't make it, To the disposal process Now the purger debates; At the time, I felt the need To hold on, but I have never grasped it Will I ever grasp it? Discover and debate,  As part of the purge For afterwards, The purge will fade away -Poem Fanatic

To paint requires the stroke, Of a dark-tinted brush,  For the completion of a masterpiece To compose requires the touch, Of a discordant note,  For the rendition of a melody To narrate requires the voice,  Of an obvious villain, For the context of a tale To dance requires the landing, Of a heavy foot upon the floor, For the movement of a piece To act requires the pain, Of a guilt-stricken character, For the drama of the play To learn requires the mistake, Of a well-meaning student For the betterment of a life The discordance, That comes naturally, And that cannot be feigned Must not be reprimanded This darkness is but a blimp On the light that shines, From all our efforts, And the knowledge we gain, From our temporary discordance -Poem Fanatic

Bless the child, Who believes in innocent, untarnished beauty, Who revels in the glow that surrounds What they believe to be a natural  Artistic sentiment of expression Insufficient, is what we begin with, What we are given, is nothing, But a seed that we must grow well Enough to harvest and cultivate beauty Bless the adult,  Who foresaw this disastrous outcome, This unnatural craving,  for decadence upon our lives Tinker not a machine or automation, But your very self, to ensure A new being as lavish as you wish That you shall have to maintain Bless the artist,  Who gave into this greed, and tinkered with themselves truly, But who emerged more than a shadow The beauty that makes a difference, Remains without perfection Ultimately, struggles with the concept Should this beauty emerge,  It shall be forever yours, Undiluted and pure But never the innocent beauty, That a child perceives -Poem...

Rushed, it speeds downhill, Drowning anything in its way, Wayward and upward, Onward and downward,  Warding off evil as it shines. Gushing, blushing, nervous  It lets out a roar of anxiety Anxious of its intentions, Intently the onlookers, Look on at its velocity. Fluid, it's beautiful motion Moves its watchers, Watching the spectacle, Spectacularly performing Gushed in a rush, Rushing downhill, Wayward and upward, Onward and downward, It rushes forever -Poem Fanatic

No room for brown, The soil is deep red, Bright and dull at once, Like blood of the Earth The blood covered, With the widest array of  Greens you could imagine No room for smog, The skies are barely visible, Through the shifting clouds, Comfortable in their abode The clouds separating Into wisps, thin as sticks Flit into man's abode As though it is their own -Poem Fanatic

Swish, swoosh, The fabric gleams, Catching the light, As the skirt fans out She bends her knee, Striking a confident pose, She lifts her gaze, Threatening anyone who  Dare Meet her eyes Her ankles tease the crowd, Dressed in heels of  Phenomenal height, As she steps proudly towards Her tall, stiking partner Swathed in exquisite cloth, She moves her hips rapidly Confusing her fabric, Confounding her audience She twirls, her skirt twists, Red imprints in the mind Of the thousands Of impressed viewers Of her Latin Dance -Poem Fanatic

Hot, stilted air Breeze laying dead Behind the branches,  Of the shrubs along the Busy roads Sickly-sweet, Jasmine fragrance, Artificial and dominating Hangs in the air,  Waiting to be replaced By the nasty, putrid odor Of the slums and sewers, Lining the streets As soon as the air shifts Wind will come, A miracle we hope for, When it does move the air, A rush of even warmer breeze Tickles our faces,  Replacing one desolate smell With another one,  Until the blessing of rain Shallow or deep,  Shifts the air again.  -Poem Fanatic

Vivid green, not beautiful,  but Electric! In a pool seeped in acid. Dip your fingers in,  Then your hand Dip your toes in,  Then your feet Feel the vibration, Through your toes, Push in further till your knees, Electric! The risk will burn you out, Delve further into the risk Explore the liquid, Feel the pain! Tiled and painted, The Pool is attractive, Green and smoldering,  You no longer are The risk was great, The adrenaline too, You shall never feel it again, For the pool drained you -Poem Fanatic

Languidly they lie, Creating a Sepulchral, Desolate emotion beneath them For those lives underneath,  Dusted by the dunes, They provide hope of  Temporary relief and sanity They never give way to their  Bulging stomachs, or to the Wishes of those who pray These clouds laze away For all eternity Through the summer haze -Poem Fanatic

False, is the smoothness of your face, That brushes and creams, Help you portray; Disguised, is the uniqueness, The character, of your face The confidence is temporary, The attraction fleeting, The power is a possibility, The addiction is permanent To be more confident, Various others  may use it To be more beautiful, In their own eyes

Deep wedges emerge, Surrounded by meaningless, Yet intricate carvings Whose detail is only revealed, To a caressing touch Pray, though I may to the mountain, It replies with coarse, Strangled speech that drives, My visible being to bleed. Flat though it once may have been,  Crushed and battered, It now presents itself as Simply a challenge A fear overriding the prey,  Accepts this presentation, Refusing to succumb to A similar presence But time will prove, the Scratches will stay, It is the blooms that will leave the ridges, Darkened by the Winds -Poem Fanatic

Dead you say, you want to be, Be lifeless and still, Still you won't attempt to be, For that is much harder. . Harder than the life you live, Live as though you are dead, Dead you say, you want to be Still you won't attempt it Bright you say, you want to be,  Be exuberant and energetic, Energetic you won't attempt to be, For that is much harder Harder than the life you live, Live as though you aren't bright, Bright you say, you want to be Still you won't attempt it. Smart you say, you want to be,  Be intelligent and knowing, Knowing you won't attempt to be, For that is much harder Harder than the life you live, Live as though you are dumb, Smart you say, you want to be, Still you won't attempt it -Poem Fanatic