Day 76 - Self Reference

Love Poems
Sometimes words can reach too far
and stretch beyond what lives

Sometimes words describe perfection
which reality doesn't give.

Sometimes words seek to present
deepest devotions and easiest embraces,
keenest kisses and courtliest caresses.

But sometimes words fall short.

When devotions are degraded
and embraces are embittered.
when kisses are kindless;
and caresses are crass:

the poet's ink is never out
his pen is never dry.
For in the world on the page
lives loves perfectious dream,
where all of us can aspire and escape.

Day 75 - These Hands

The title is stolen from an INCREDIBLE poem written by the uncle of a friend of mine. I was going to write something similar (and probably still will at some point), but this isn't it, because it was a war poem, and this is anything but.

These Hands
These hands can hold a pen
These hands can lift a beatiful little girl
These hands can hug a friend
These hands can caress a soft lover's cheek

These feet can run away
These feet can stand as still as someone's rock
These feet can slip and introduce my ass to the ground

This face can smile wide
This face can drain my tears
This face shriek and scream
This face can kiss a head

This heart can beat and pump
This heart can block and stop
or this heart can open wide
and this heart can burst from love 

Day 74 - Why

Why
Why can't I stay here?
Why are nights so short?
Why are we so far apart?
Why won't time just stop?
Why isn't Love enough?

Day 73 - Thieves

Thieves
There are thieves about tonight
one has stolen your happiness
another has taken my aid
one has robbed us of our time
another of our life together

Now one thief has all that was ours
and the other has all that could have been

Day 71-72 - Distance

Distance
10 000 leagues to the bottom of the sea
80 days around the world

if words could carry me to you
i'd fly to your side in an instant

if i could swim a tear to reach you
i'd sail away right now

if a wish was enough...
i'd leave in a moment and be there right now

10 000 leagues to the bottom of the sea
but still i can't descend even to your arms

80 days around the world
but still i can't encircle you with comfort

Distance
I reach across the sky toward the brightest star
I hold the moon in my tender arms
I dive and swim down to the ocean's bed to sleep in silent serenity
I pray for the other side of this life so I can find peace
I caress the face of God

but it's not the same
it's not a comfort, or an accomplishment
not when you are so much farther away

Day 65-70 - I'm back (hopefully to stay this time)

1. This first one is entirely fictional. I wrote it a while ago based on something that I don't remember.

The Shift
The touch of fingers on my skin like sharpened sparks of fire
A single kiss can speak a life's whole worth of simple words
Best smiles, those that glitter eyes of Med'terra'nan blue
I hear the voice of God when laughter chimes in your sweet voice

But how to stop the burn when sparks ignite engulfing flames
And what to do when words run out and kisses with them too
When happiness is drowned in oceans spilled from those blue eyes
And how to block demonic shrieks denouncing all of love.

2. And here's another French poem. Because French is awesome.

Delynn
Ce n'est pas le sang,
ce n'est pas les liens.

C'est  l’âme et l'amour,
c'est l'effet à mon coeur.

C'est la beauté d'une petite fille,
c'est la joie quand elle rit.
c'est vrai qu'elle est ma propre famille.

3. I picked an object and wrote a poem. Deal with it.

Chalkboard
A powd'ry cough of tough white smoke
Smooth green slate with whitened streaks
White powder makes the words that form my poem

4. Another Sugarland poem

Stand Up
Voice crashes out
like drums of thunder

Words flow from a tongue;
the lyrics to a dream.

The crowd cheers
as a million cymbols roar.

Rumbling applause,
rapid piano chords.


5. I was going to add more to this (and may do so in the future) but I'm on a roll so I'm posting a bunch of half finished poems and calling them done.

Every Girl Like Me (BTW this is a Sugarland poem)
we fight till the end of the night then we hug and make up and we kiss and make love
this is real Love.

6. I think I have one more in me

It's time to go to bed
Before my eyes go red
I need to sleep
So sane I'll keep
'Tis probably all but dead

Day 64 - Dear God I'm Tired

At times like this, I can't help but think of the lyrics of the late great Panic! at the Disco:
♫ Oh how it's been so long/We're so sorry we've been gone/we were busy writing songs for you ♫

Replace the word songs with poems and that pretty much sums it up.
I'm really starting to regret taking on this project in Grade 12. As if this year wasn't going to be hard enough. BUT I DID take it on this year, and I'll be damned if I'm not going to see it through. For those of you out there in cyberland who are ACTUALLY still checking up on this, I desperately hope you won't give up on me. I really do need you in order to keep doing this. But enough about me, how about a poem.

More
I can offer you this hand
Bare, empty
but firm and open for a steady grip.

I can offer you this tear.
A single drop of salt;
an ocean of regret

I can offer you this smile
Though sometimes with my mouth and not my soul,
sometimes on a cliff over sorrow

I can offer you these words.
I hope they pour warm down your throat,
as yours do me

Day 63- NOT My Finest Hour

This poem is similar to "thus, with a kiss, I live"... except that this one sucks. Oh well. I said at the beginning of this that not all of the poems would be good. Some of them have been and will be (and, in this case, ARE) utterly, excruciatingly dreadful. But that, I suppose, is the rub.

A Poem
A poem, a poem, my kingdom for a poem.

PS. Expect to see more of these in the next few days. But don't worry, I promise to put a bit of actual creative thought and energy into at least SOME of them.