Poems!

[Telephalsion]

At least one poem a night is written by me, here's a few.

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Commercial Love

You are probably the best girl in the world,
you are the best a man can get.
It can only be you.
You are the original and best,
and once you pop I can't stop,
can't stop loving you.
I need something that makes people talk.
I need to bite it and breathe free.
But maybe I should trust my instincts, be myself?
Of all the people that desire you.
I'm the most banana of them all.
For i'm hunting you, the freshmaker.
Bah, take it cool, take a smoothie.

-----------------------------------------

A broken story

We run together along the stream.
Dancing on the grass and flowers.
I'm so happy it must be a dream.
But then from the mighty towers.
Comes the sound of the drumrolls.
Our joy it comes to an early end.
As we se all the soldiers come.
Like a group of hideous trolls.
I tell you that I shall fend.
Fend for both our lives sum.
You hug me and then you run.
My eyes fill with tears as you go.
I then shun aside all of the fun.
The joy we shared not long ago.
And I draw my curved blade.
And pray you will escape.
Then the troopers arrive.
All my feelings begin to fade.
As I throw off my yellow cape.
I then a persons future deprive.
Heartlessly I move to kill.
Hoping nothing will get past.
Wishing that nobody ever will,
get to you all too fast.
Ragefully I end another life.
Why must they disturb our love?
We never wanted any strife.
Yet now you must run my dove.
Not once did I a strike miss.
Nonetheless a few got away.
In the forest you run in fear.
Still tasting my last kiss.
You run past trees and clay.
But at the river you make a halt.
The stream is rapid and so wild.
I can almost taste the salt.
I'm sweating like a frightened child.
I must reach you before the guards.
Or else I fear I'll lose you.
You look down upon the chards,
or rocks and trees, what will you do?
The soldiers they then catch up.
And you turn around in shock.
You then jump down into the cup,
that is the river with it's stock,
of sharpened stone and wood.
And if only I had been faster.
I would still see your face in your hood.
If only I had been braver.
Then I would have leapt out after you.
Then I could have saved your life.
But there was nothing I could do.
So just aswell I took my knife.
We met again on the other side.
tiill together throughout time.
My feelings I could never hide.
And so to a silent angels chime.
Once again we dance together,
upon a grassy flowerfield.
With senses one shouldn't bother.
To your feelings you must yield.


---------------------------------

Background info:
I listened to "Nightwish: nymphomaniac fantasy" while writing this, the melody made the theme of the poem.

And the first one was made from hearing jingles from products.

I'm to tired to continue writing, my poems tend to become like stories or entire songs. So I bid you goodnight untill next time.

[Telephalsion]

More poetry, yay I'm so happy

------------


Every night I write a poem.
About the desire within
The urge to feel you lips.
The wish to hold you tight.

Every night I write a poem.
About the ray of hope so thin.
The wish to squeze your hips.
The dream to with you spend a night.


-------------


I think about you,
when I wake up in the morning.
I think about you,
in the evening when I go to sleep.
I think about you,
every day and every night.
Every time that I'm awake.
And especially.
I think about you.
When I try not to.


---------------


I was thinking just now.
My thoughts raged and I realized that they had strayed too far.
Now I can't help thinking about things I don't wan't to think about.
But as I write this, I come across a funny thought:
What if every conversation had multiple paths to choose,
what if to every statement someone gave,
you would get different lines to reply with.
One kind, one rude, one dismissing and whatnot more?
What an easy existence it would be.


--------------


When I think about you,
I can never fell angry.
Just the memory of you
Sooths my open wounds.


--------------


Today a great weight was lifted,
from my weary shoulders.
I confessed to she who heeded,
thus off me fell the bouldes.
At first I felt afraid,
I dared not think of telling.
Yet somehow deep down it laid,
a trust to a friend who was heeding.
And I gave her a hint at first,
but I think she already knew.
Her guess was just the person whom I thirst,
she was right about me loving you.
I confirmed her guess with joy.
I felt releived to have set free,
the humble secrets of a boy.
But for that I didn't take a spree.
Blessings to the angel who heard,
my pleads to share my secret,
my wish to spread the word.
Today's conversation I'll never forget.


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Another sleepless night...
But unlike all the others!
THis time I'm awake with joy.
My shoulders have become so light.
I told a friend what me bothers.
For a moment I was a frightened boy.
But now I'm so at ease.
For letting out my feelings
Has eased my burdened mind
I finally remembered to sieze
A chanse to say all the things
that was hidden for all mankind.


---------
(rewrite of "Nightwish-10th man down")


Today I bathed, I was very cold.
People around me, I felt so cool.
In the lake a freezing boy.
I'd dived into to show them off.

Pick me up, dry me up, quick now.
Hurry up, I will drown, down down.
Bring the towel, end the pain, swim and swim for shore.
Hold on tight, this ain't so warm.

Deliver me from this sea.
It's so damn cold I'm dying here.
Why did I do this I'm such a fool..
Swim to shore to save yourself.

Pick me up, dry ...




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[silent_empath]

This is one of my favorites that i've written........and the shortest.


------------------
An Embrace

Let the warmth
Of my heart
Hold you, where you are
Embraced
By the cold
And sadness
Of solitude.

[silent_empath]

A Lesson In Love

Tell me of love, father
What is it of?
Can I see it with my eyes?

Is it something I touch, father?
Long for so much?
Or just a pack of lies?

Open your heart, son
For love is a part
Of every living soul

It is what you see, son
When looking at me
Your love makes me whole

Touch as you please, son
Your mind at ease
For love will touch you too

Ask what you will, son
Of this oldguy still
I'm always here for you.

This one I wrote for, and from the perspective of, my father.

[TeppicTheBloodLyn]

my friend sent me 3 more:

'Upon his breast an arrogant star'
I have been informed,

That honor, arrogance and pride

Are all deformed

Into clots of hydrogen taken as bride

By a hydrogen lord, and so betide

Carbon-heir, bequeathed a crown by sire unworn, crown formed

Of fire, light, of arrogance, of pride;

So is that why upon the breasts of great men often-most,

I have espied a grim-faced hydrogen lord, and all his crowned future’s burning host?




Knighthood



The common becomes called gold,

For blood may bleed till water fills

Sinew-basin and spirit-hold;

Blue is blood that for its honor kills.



Giving is nice, and so is fellowship

Among the peopled states

Retained despite Tumult’s whip

Whose cracks apart Earth’s peoples rip;

Such politics may shape the fates

Of all peoples, fire-death may get the slip.



But what of blood, and what of Fate?

Blue blood must kill and die for honor,

And for faith; it has obligation to the state;

Is’t wise accepting blood when fire’s the donor?



Will he lay down his life to guard the throne,

And uphold ways upheld since before yore?

If crushed between all of the world at war,

Will he stand tall, not being a true noble born?






Child of the Spring



This dawn awakes anew with Him:

Champion, wand’rer, a felon to no end;

Honor and gluttony and love serve Him.

This dawn that lights upon familiar land.



Into Winter’s pallid embrace was born a cold scream;

The hands that delivered the whelp

Feared their mistress for her eyes’ fair gleam.

And, though their caresses were as soft as steam,

That bastard in her arms would only yelp,

For far away his howls made his father proudly beam.



If Summer came, it’d bring but blasts of heat,

And morbid jungles would then sprout

All about Him and His blameless feet.

To Him, life’s bounties come at a shout.



He cursed Autumn long before the fall of leaves:

Lord of the world, yet lost, alone.

He often strode in wait of rebirth of the shivering breeze

That with him played in depths of Winter’s loving freeze.

But He was glad to be alone,

With no uncouth lesser to bother Him with pleas.



And so it came: a day, but not of Autumn grief,

Nor of the Winter’s piercing freeze,

And not of burning Summer was its sheaf.

“Pray tell”, he asked of Spring. “Which way’s release?”