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21 / M / Canada
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Posted 9/24/13 , edited 10/10/14
I only have a few... (*´_ゝ`)


(中文版)

凌晨三点

晨光没来了。
寒冷夜里的雾,从您的嘴唇默默吹出来
好像是您的灵魂。

看着您用您的双手摸索东西。
您迷路了吗?还是您感觉冷?

[苍白脸的忧虑]

红绿灯变了颜色, 所以我缓解我脚下的油门踏板上。
我不认识您,但还不要失去您。

在这暗黑的凌晨三点, 我回头再看一次您的脸。没有人来接您。

[苍白脸的忧虑]

晨光没来了。

(English)

"The Witching Hour [Three AM]"

Even still, the morning light has not yet arrived.
The breath of the wintry cold night pours so silently from your lips,
That it very well might be your soul.

I see your hands, fumbling with something.
Have you lost your way? Or is it that you're feeling cold?

[Pale faced anxiety]

The traffic lamp changes colour, and I ease my foot onto the accelerator.
I don't know you, but I do not want to lose you.

During this cold and very dark night, comes the witching hour, and I turn my head to look once more. No one is coming to get you.

[Pale faced anxiety]

Even still, the morning light has not yet arrived.

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

"Ouroboros"

Perpetual God,
whose deterioration is the source of it's own renewal,
in unstoppable motion, the infinite constant.

Invulnerability,sustainability of unknown origin.
There is no creature with a future any less inevitable.

Devoid of sense yet utterly omnipotent.
Possess them,
but lose them and their rewards when you die.

No more and no less pointless than he,
the serpent Ouroboros,
we chew our own tails, reborn blank.

Organic organization and nothing more.

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

The breath poured out of her like fair smoke in the cold autumn air.
She felt a tingle as a swift breeze brushed across the back of her neck

- The bus was late -

A boy walked by her and a rush of scent ran past her nose.
His apathetic expression contradicted wildly with the smell of fruits around him.





14758 cr points
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20 / F / Winding Circle
Online
Posted 9/25/13
Here's one of my favorites that I've written:

Free
Life is short
Keep moving
Never stop
Never give up
Make the most of your life
But how can I?
How can I keep going?
This doesn’t feel right
I should be free
Not stuck following
The whims of society
What I wouldn’t give
To experience life elsewhere
It doesn’t matter if I die
Or anything else happens
I just want to be free
Away from this life
Run under the stars with elves
Play with magic
Learn to fight
Be who I’m supposed to be
Not this modern person,
But someone more
Someone who is part of something
Not like me
I’m stuck trying to make money
In a society of greed
I don’t want to be here
I hate greed
Here no one cares
All they care about is themselves
I have nothing besides my family
A few friends
I’d give it all up, though
If it meant that I could be free
Experience the thrill
Of riding a dragon
The adrenaline when on the run
The despair of failing in a mission
There I’d be someone important
Here I’m not
I’m just another student,
Another face
In the crowd
Another victim
Of being a social reject
Someone who has no real talents
I try to be myself
But I’m not
I can’t be myself
While I’m here
This is not my place
Why can’t I be somewhere else?
Somewhere where all of this
Does not matter
Where there are things
That matter more
Than money and sex
Where I fully realize myself
But that’s impossible
Even if there are other worlds,
There’s no way to get there
So I have to live with it
And never give up hope
I cannot stop imagining
What it would be like
To command a pokemon
To learn magic with Harry
To become a dragon rider
To be an elf on Middle Earth
To...
But it hurts as each day passes
And I realize that it’s only
In my head
And that’s where it will stay
There will be no pokemon
Except in games
There will be no magic
Except in the books
There will be no dragons
Except in my books
There will be no elves
Except in my mind
It’s all in my mind
That’s what I should be doing
Instead of wasting away
From laziness
Suffering from depression
And migraines
Never succeeding as much
As I want to
Losing myself in my technology
How can I keep living
When I know
That I do not belong
That my soul will not rest
That all of this...
Just isn’t me.
I just want to be free
Be myself
Explore the world
And never worry
About money and other stuff.
Free... it’s a wonderful word
Means no worries
No cares
For as long as I live
Sure, I will worry about
My family and friends
But that’s not the same
As worrying about money
College, loans, jobs
All swirls in my head
Scares me
I need to be free!
Let me out of this nightmare!
I scream in frustration
No one understands
They may suffer too,
But they truly do belong
Here in this world
GET ME OUT!
I WANT TO BE FREE
Save me from drowning
I can’t live like this anymore
I pound on the wall
No one notices
I might as well be invisible
Tears run down my face
Let me out
I whisper in despair
But there’s no response
I’m left in this world
Nearly broken of any hope
Of salvation
Sure I have God,
But I feel he connects the worlds
To each other
And runs them
Surely he knows
I don’t belong
Free me...
I sob, crushing my stuffed dog
I hide from my mom
I can’t bear her questions
How can she ever understand
Let me out of this world
I need that freedom
This is not me
Not who I was meant to be
I was born to be crazy
Born to be part of something...
Better
I start pushing people away
If they prod, they’ll find out
And they won’t understand
Consign me to a mental ward
But I’m not crazy
I don’t want to hurt them
If I can’t go to another world,
Then kill me now
Why am I here
If I am so out of place.
I scream one last scream
Of frustration
Before running from
Everything
Everyone
And I keep running
And running
Pounding my feet
Into oblivion
3321 cr points
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21 / M / Canada
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Posted 9/26/13
Wonderful. First, thanks for posting in this thread. I think that most people would be able to connect with your writing. It's hard, life... sometimes the frustration of feeling like just another cog in the factory is just too much. It's good to get it out like this, even if you're not sure it'll do anything. Keep it up! 加油!
d3v3l 
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33 / M / Arizona
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Posted 9/29/13
Wrote only 1 - then stopped - but still feel like I should go back and continue. I had earlier works that won prizes back in elementary school but those works are lost.

Here is my only. It was only published once by an not so well known online publisher long ago.

http://www.netpoets.com/poems/stories/1337001.htm

The Arrival
by Jonathan Shupe


I see you standing there
waiting for your love
In the breeze you look so fair
like the sun so high above

In your eyes, too strong to weep
to see nothing's arrived
In your heart your tears did seep
from emotion that you've thrived

Of your pain met the covered sky
as rain, began to fall from sleep
There you gave your final sigh
Then for you, nature did weep

With your back to the clouds,
you started your walk
and followed your lonely road
As your foot hit the ground, you started to talk
to the person that never showed

Every word you pressed to speak
to you he did not reply
Again of him your ears do seek
no sound to hear, but a cry
A cry that could you only hear,
to you that is so near
Can only be so far away, so far away as the sky
29233 cr points
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23 / F
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Posted 10/2/13 , edited 10/10/14
Little oceans in the sky,
and stars that glisten amongst the surf,
the pinned-up waves that crash along,
of rusted purple and grey.

Quiet isles tucked away.
3321 cr points
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21 / M / Canada
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Posted 10/4/13
Wonderful! It's sad, of course, but very well written. Keep up the hard work. I can see more publishing opportunities in your future.
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22 / M / US, east side *cr...
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Posted 11/11/13
@TheSleepyFox I noticed no one has given you feedback on your own poems! You must be a patient and giving person, you continue to reply so kindly to your fellow poets. I want to acknowledge and thank you for inspiring other poets with your insightful responses. There is a lack of poets who read as much as they write (I myself am guilty..). Anyway,

I just wanted to say I adored The Witching Hour [Three AM]. It painted a clear picture for me. I started to visualize my own interpretation as I read through it. I imagined a girl in the cold, standing on the sidewalk the wee hours of the morning. It reminded me of a scene from Clannad, and I envisioned a Japanese setting. I found myself looking at her from inside a car, alongside the narrator, and sympathizing with her. Morning was still far on the horizon, and my instinctual thought of approaching her and inviting her into a warm car was real. I must say your poem was effective and influential. I think that is what I appreciate most from poetry, the ability to move others with words in such a structured and compact form.

I did appreciate your other poems, but neither of them spoke to me quite like The Witching Hour [Three AM]. Thank you for sharing
1536 cr points
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M / A Library!
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Posted 11/11/13
vengeful memories
rambling inside
rollin' hard like the bloods
living off of the lies.
i tried to move on,
but instead i left,
and now i think its best,
that i start letting go.

to be honest,
i hate the shit i have to deal with,
so i wine about my life on the forums.
i try to stay coherent,
but i can't, its too damn difficult,
and i cry cause iv'e got a problem maturing.
i go to school,
i sit in the front of the class,
teachers are worried about me,
they think i'm depressed and on the verge of
pullin' a columbine
but its cool though,
let them think that,
i don't care,
i couldn't do that
if i tried.

vengeful memories
rambling inside
rollin' hard like the bloods
living off of the lies.
i tried to move on,
but instead i left,
and now i think its best,
that i start letting go.

i give up on tryin'
to be cool.
ain't got friends there anyhow.
real life is a bitch,
ain't it?
it is for me,
but now that i'm at home,
i can ditch that shit,
lurk on 4chan and
forget that shit.

but you know what,
i'm just, not cut out for real life,
i can't go to school anymore,
i don't know what to do anymore.
i spend my time a forum,
my mom thinks its weird,
dad does to,
but i don't really see it,
i'm perfectly normal,
here in front of a screen,
where i can be feline
ride on chairs,
and make fun of shinji's
"hand cream" *lol*

vengeful memories
rambling inside
rollin' hard like the bloods
living off of the lies.
i tried to move on,
but instead i left,
and now i think its best,
that i start letting go,
right?
42 cr points
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26 / M
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Posted 11/25/13
"OmnImpotence"

I am all

______________alone.


Sorry if the presentation comes off incorrectly, I'm usually not one to post on these things (as I'm sure that point ticker will indicate) and can't quite get it to look how I desire, but there are supposed to be indentations on the last line. The idea, in some sense, is of an empty haiku. Well, that, and I intend to use these lines in a bit more extensive writing, but I hope others may see this as strong enough to be a standalone. Oh, and the spelling and capitalization of the title is intentional as well.

While it's been a while since its posting, I'd also like to commend TheSleepyFox for "The Witching Hour [Three AM]." If you don't mind my critiquing, the fluidity of the language (in English, at least -- I can't comment otherwise) is incredibly smooth and hushed by the frailty of the cold scene; despite the movements and activity, it all finds stillness in the bracketed "pale faced anxiety" that potentially looms over both the speaker and exterior subject. One thing to consider developing (if it is possible to do so without interrupting the successful flow already created) is the play of light and colors within the poem. Perhaps including the vehicle's headlights (and/or other headlights that may pass by, unless the scene is intentionally scant) in the pulling away, or the taillight's faint glow upon the other when looking back can produce an even greater affect on the "pale faced anxiety." That being said, the poem reads well just how it is, and my suggestions may desecrate the serene (tragic?) scene.
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25 / F / Georgia
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Posted 11/28/13
I like your poems, they are beautiful.


neumaus wrote:

Little oceans in the sky,
and stars that glisten amongst the surf,
the pinned-up waves that crash along,
of rusted purple and grey.

Quiet isles tucked away.


I enjoyed yours as well. I think everyone that posted has written terrific poems.
12124 cr points
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18 / M / Kansas City
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Posted 12/3/13
The time was midnight, and the bell was struck.
I looked down at my paper, and commended my luck.
How I got away with it, no-one shall know;
For I shall never again speak of that night under the Evergrow.

She was a fair lady, about 5 feet tall, though her bosom was not nearly as small.
I pulled out my chair, as a gentleman might, and bought her a drink, though she put up a fight.
She was begging to stumble, and I saw my chance, and looked her in the eye, and put her into a trance.
"Do not worry my dear, I can take you back home, my carriage will bring us round to the other rome!".

She was in such a daze, she believed what I said, and unfortunately for her, she would soon be dropping dead.
We road in my buggy, about an hour or two, and I took her to the lake, the water such a pretty hue.
I set her down by the trees, and took out my knife, though honestly, with strife.
I then walked away, her body under the greens, and walked away, as happy as I could have been.

And so my letter is done, and my benefactor, this is for you: Do not betray me again, your chances will be few.

__________________________________________________________________________________________________________

I had to write that for my AP English 4 class in 10 minutes as part of a dark themed poem project. Personally, if I had more time, I'd have made it alot longer.
Posted 12/6/13


How dare you call me sick of envy
On a mountain plenty- looking down
Thus cast me out to lonely linger
And point your finger with a frown

What is lust, if be not admiration
An inspiration to wish for better
To not be fettered by the vain
But be the same, and be together

Are we to be renounced, who feel
And will believe in so much more
If not adore, and not be thankful
For the pain enabled by our Lord

Are you the righteous, rich of bliss
So quick to charge the faintest threat
Collecting debt in punishment
To judge, and torment without regret

A plan of better good, of me so ample
Vile example, and without question
Nor direction, chose thus The maker
Our Creator, to self not host the lesson

Am I to hold my tongue from speech
To kneel beneath as not your equal
It is deceitful, not of I, but you
And your view that makes me evil



I never bothered to finish this. It remains unpolished, and untitled.
178 cr points
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28 / M / san diego, ca
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Posted 12/30/13
something i wrote awhile back:

All I hear as time slips by
is the quiet thoughts of my empty mind
a soul thats been gone for so long
and a heart that has no joyous song...
All I hear as time slips by
is the quiet whispers of another lie
a body so fatigued and weak
and a faith that will always fail me.
All I hear as time slips by
is the whisper of death's calling
a call so silent yet so sweet
and a melody to end the misery.
All I hear as time slips by
is the silence of empty pleas
to be someone i was never meant to be
and an end to this hellish dream.
Posted 12/30/13

dankuuwut wrote:



How dare you call me sick of envy
On a mountain plenty- looking down
Thus cast me out to lonely linger
And point your finger with a frown

What is lust, if be not admiration
An inspiration to wish for better
To not be fettered by the vain
But be the same, and be together

Are we to be renounced, who feel
And will believe in so much more
If not adore, and not be thankful
For the pain enabled by our Lord

Are you the righteous, rich of bliss
So quick to charge the faintest threat
Collecting debt in punishment
To judge, and torment without regret

A plan of better good, of me so ample
Vile example, and without question
Nor direction, chose thus The maker
Our Creator, to self not host the lesson

Am I to hold my tongue from speech
To kneel beneath as not your equal
It is deceitful, not of I, but you
And your view that makes me evil



I never bothered to finish this. It remains unpolished, and untitled.



even so,I loved it most
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49 / M / United States
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Posted 1/14/14 , edited 10/10/14
Here's a poem I wrote back in 1994 for my wife whom I had just met two weeks prior to writing this.

Hearts entwined in each other, embrace,
Souls united forever more.
Full of joy and grace,
Like a bird on wing, will soar.

Rising high as on a wave,
Never again should I fall.
Just a sigh, oh so naive,
Never to let it pall.

Time to laugh and shout,
Living life to the fullest.
Searching all about,
Ending hearts yearning quest.

Innocent as it seems,
Depths of passion untold.
Purest of souls gleam,
With hearts oh, so bold.

To cherish such a heart,
More precious than a dove.
Never should I part,
With such treasure as your Love.

-

We married a year later in the Fall of 1995 and are still married to this day.
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