15cman's Poetry (Full Version)

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15cman -> 15cman's Poetry (12/26/2008 22:40:28)

Hello, reader, and I welcome you to my poetry thread.A Comments and Criticism thread is here and I hope you enjoy all I have to offer.*Ahem* OK formalities over, I will be adding to this of course,maybe everyday or just once a week(depending on how much I squeezed out on my creativity gland that week).


Life

It is here, and it is not,
ever changing, always moving,
people ask 'Why are we here?',
and I say 'To change the world'
then they ask 'How do we change the world?'
and I say 'I don't know.'

Life,
full of joy and happiness,
full of sorrow and pain,
if we can cope with what happens today,
will we be prepared for tomorrow?

Life,
a candle in the wind,
a star among the sky,
it's just there.

Life,
it raises tough questions,
like what about time?
When yesterday went by,how will I know about tomorrow,
ever coming,ever going.

Life,
when it's hard to be up on top,
you can easily fall down.

Life,
it is a river,
it bends and flows.
It spews out to the great unknown.





Endless

Looking up at a vast sky,
full of wonders,
full of unknown things to man.

Staring down a an endless sea,
unforgiving,endless,
who are we to challenge something beyond us?

Endless things,
we dare try,
we wish to know.

Ignorance is bliss,
so why do people want to know?

Sea and sky,
two different things,
but with one thing in common,
they are endless.




Stranded

Lost for words,
knowing that I cannot be heard.
Scanning the sky above,
knowing that I won't find you.

I walked on,
trying to know what I've done,
the reason I lost it all never dawned on me.

I was stubborn, foolish, naive,
when I left you for all the world had to offer.
All went wrong and I lost it all,
you were right and I was wrong all along.

I was stranded,
torn apart, left for dead,
stranded.



Poetry

Poetry,
it is not just writing,
it is not just something to toss aside,
it must be more.

When you create poetry,
what do you think?
Do you use the easy way out,
and write just a few lines and say "I'm done"?

Poetry,
it is soul,expression,
a way of life,
a sanctuary.

When you create poetry,
do you go the extra mile?

I feel this uncontrollable need,
to write this way of life,
to build this sanctuary, brick by brick.

Do you feel it too?
I hope you do.




Masquerade


Life is like a masquerade,
what is on the outside may not be the same on the inside.

Someone in disguise,
waiting,watching,
he shows his true colors.

The hero is a villain,
an understudy the star.

Watch out,things might not always be what they seen,
you never know,
there is a different side to them.

But not everyone.

Some people are who they are,
they don't live in this masquerade.



Wait

Hold on,
slow down,
stop.

Don't let life pass you by,
make the most of it,
otherwise you'll wake up and say "What happened?"

Hey,
hit the brake,
wait.

Life is too fleeting to waste,
but don't sell it short,
it is full of love,happiness, and peace.

Sure there are bad times,
those can be forgotten,
but the loved times,
never.

So just wait,
enjoy what you have,
you will love it.

Wait.
For the rest is yet to come




15cman -> RE: 15cman's Poetry (12/28/2008 14:05:24)

Schedule

In the morning,
I wake up,
at 6:00.

Almost everyday,
like clockwork,
I get up and prepare.

I get dressed,
eat breakfast,
and plan my day.

Working on forgotten homework 1rst period,
deciding if I should skip band to work on that project,
is usually my plan.

But I stay cool,
because it all goes according to plan.
My schedule.







15cman -> RE: 15cman's Poetry (12/29/2008 11:41:01)

Freedom


Freedom!
Sweet freedom,
from this tyrannical force.

I worked and worked all week,
but now I have my just relief.

Who cares about the next week,
when I have this time now to relax?
No more to being bossed around!

And then Sunday afternoon comes...

I don't want to lose this freedom,
really I don't.

I have to do the work assigned to me from 2 days before,
in only a few hours!
One half of me says "Go on do it and be done!"

The other half,however, says "Blast this work, you can bluff your way out."
I make my decision to work, and I work all night into the morning,
but then I found out...

I'm on vacation.




15cman -> RE: 15cman's Poetry (12/31/2008 16:33:41)

Poker

He dealt the cards,
and I looked...
oh what luck!

A Jack and a Queen,
was what I got,
and I bet all I had.

Nothing can stop me,I though.
But my victory was short lived,
as my opponent had something more...

2 Aces!
I couldn't believe my eyes,
I was broke then,
and I lost everything.

All my money,
my year's wages,
all gone.

My stupidity was immense,
to bet that much,
I couldn't go home and say "He cheated",
since I knew it was a fair game.

I had nothing,
except the cloths on my back,
and some life insurance.

But the game couldn't end,
not this way,
not now.

So I gathered up all my strength,
I got a piece of paper and a pencil.
I said "Let's continue."

So he dealt again,
and I was even luckier than before!

Four of a kind!
All that money would be mine,
so I put down what I bet on my I.O.U,
and I made it a subtle bet.

This time,
victory will be mine.

We showed our cards and I hoped,
I prayed with all my might...

And I lost,
he had a full house.

Even more in debt than before,
I said "I quit".
And stormed out of the bar.

I would have to pay eventually,
or have to live side-by-side,
with some years in jail.

But I couldn't,
the loss was too great.
I started up my car.

And I headed for Mexico.





15cman -> RE: 15cman's Poetry (1/3/2009 0:02:04)

Night

Peace,
goodwill to men,
all that good stuff.

Every year, same thing.
Oil crisis, poison led toys,
every year there is a new evil.

No surprise to me,
all though there is a time,
when there is actually peace.

It's night.
When you sleep,
no worries about tomorrow,
if there is a tomorrow,that is.

No troubles of the world,
no crazy consumerism,
no more anything.

Everything is left behind you,
at night when you sleep,
whether you dream or not.

Sure there are nightmares,
but those are over soon.

All these things give me peace,
at night.




15cman -> RE: 15cman's Poetry (1/4/2009 19:06:06)

Setting a Pace


I like to go fast,
very fast,
sometimes it may be too fast.

I should slow down I know,
just to check if I messed anything up,
just to see if I can fix it,
and learn something from it.

My mistakes are pretty simple,
common errors really,
since the real problem is I don't set a pace.

Setting a pace for myself,
having to slow down.
Fixing things,
revising,
never speeding up.

I set a pace for myself today,
and wow did it open up my eyes.

I never knew things before I set this pace,
I found out stuff now that I listened.
Like how different the world is from me.

Strange how I found all this out,
by setting a pace.





15cman -> RE: 15cman's Poetry (1/7/2009 19:56:21)

The following is something I did with my friend, the italic is what he says and the regular font is what I say.Note:In the poem, he and I are in different parts of the world, he is hunting me down and I am running away.


Vengeance

I want my revenge,
my vendetta,
against you.


For what I did to you was monstrous,
and thus,
I have created a monster.

My lust for blood shall not be sated,
unless I destroy you or take back what was,
and still is,
mine.


It was a petty item I stole,
of no importance to me,
I never knew it was his,
till' I looked on the back.

It's not only a picture,
it's my life!
The very thing that keeps me going.


The picture,
his favorite.
I never knew.
Now I'm on the run,
always until he catches me,
or one of us dies.

It's not the only thing that now keeps me going...
it's my revenge...

I and I alone,
shall have,
my vengeance.



~This poem was created to let the reader know that some small things can drive a man mad.




15cman -> RE: 15cman's Poetry (1/10/2009 13:07:05)

Regrets?



When people say they don't have regrets,
I really don't understand.
My blunders are the things I regret,
don't they mess up too?

Sure, old people say they had a great life,
but they can't really remember all the bad times.

My regrets,
my mistakes,
my failures.

There are good things among the bad,
of course,
but that hardly out-weighs my mistakes.

I do have regrets,
even though I'm young.
I won't say I regret something silly,
like "I regret I wasn't born with opposable toes",
since I had no say in the matter.

My regrets are few,
but they are great,
at least,
to a kid's mind.




15cman -> RE: 15cman's Poetry (1/11/2009 13:40:31)

Ok so I am going to try out some shape poetry since my other poems just have 3-4 lines each stanza, so I think this will be fun!This was taken from a conversation I had with a friend at lunch.Note:When I say excuse me, I was burping during the poem and the other person thought that was funny.



Laugh


__________________Hey,
________________hey you,
_____________why so serious?
_____________You really need
________________to laugh,
_________________more.


__________Why don't you,
______________when there are alot of
__________________things in life worth laughing about.
___________________________Think of something ridiculous,
________________________________something funny that has happened to you.

____________Oh,
________ excuse me!
______See?I told you that,
____there is always something
__funny to laugh at everyday always.




15cman -> RE: 15cman's Poetry (1/19/2009 16:42:31)



Music in our souls



Music for the soul,
my heart sings for.
For new life, for grace,
for mercy, for all.

The music is for my soul,
for all souls,
it shall fill our hearts,
with joy I hope.

All around us,
music is there.

Ding dong ding dong,
it goes on and on,
I have a feeling,
that the music,
is in your soul,
too.

Hard to describe the feeling,
whether it be joy,
or comfort,
or anger,
or something in between.

Music in our souls,
our hearts,
our minds.

I feel,
so therefore I listen,
and learn about the music in my soul.





15cman -> RE: 15cman's Poetry (1/21/2009 15:44:18)

A short poem, made by yours truly.



Next Generation


Starting anew,
fresh and clean,
the next generation is here.


Bringing new poetry to paper,
thrilling stories of all kinds,
it is interesting to see what they think up,
what they want to know,
and more.


Although I'm relatively young,
I feel age creeping up on me,
I see so many new faces,
in this new generation.


Strange isn't it?
Still, I do what I can to help,
to teach and tutor,
even if I myself am still learning.




15cman -> RE: 15cman's Poetry (1/23/2009 17:25:15)

Either inspiration hit me, or I just thought of this.I guess what this poem is about is the end of...anything.You build something that is really cool, but it eventually is blown into the wind and gone.


One Day


One day,
one day is all it takes,
for everything to come crashing down.

Everything is fine,
you avoid things for so long,
one day you forget,
and all we worked for is gone.

A life time of work,
to ensure our safety,
our peace of mind,
and all that work is for nothing,
because of that one mistake,
that one day.

We avoid it,
since we know it will come to pass.
So we do everything to prevent that.

All of it ruined,
by one day.




15cman -> RE: 15cman's Poetry (1/24/2009 10:09:22)


The right note


Going through this sheet,
playing the music set out.
I am trying with my all my might,
to hit the right notes.


It relates to a lot of life,
we go through it,
playing our own song.


Trying all the time,
to remember what's right.

We have our beginnings and our ends,
as does this song.
Nothing lasts forever,
but we make it the best we can.

"It's not how long the song is,
it's what is in it that counts."
Phrases like those drive me insane,
for all fall short of the glory of God.

We live our lives,
our songs,
and then it ends.

All the time we play,
some of us just beginning,
in the middle,
or nearing the end.






15cman -> RE: 15cman's Poetry (1/25/2009 19:21:30)

Cliche



A lot of things I write are cliche,
the same old thing,
every time.

My poems have hardly any feeling.
I can't seem to break from this repressing force,
that blocks me from my potential.

Even this poem isn't unique,
I've seen many others like this.
Nothing much to say.
It's all cliche.

Writing something that I don't feel,
fake emotions,
fake drive for success.

Giving up isn't my style,
so I grab onto any idea I have.
I put it into words and viola!

Another cliche poem.

A barrier in my mind,
I can't put my finger on it.
Is it because my vocabulary might not be the best?
Maybe it's not suited for a poem maker.

Or is it what I read?
Is everything the same,mundane, boring thing?
With something thrilling to cover it up?

I don't,
and probably won't know,
so a lot of the things I write is cliche.




15cman -> RE: 15cman's Poetry (1/30/2009 16:31:05)

______




An unknown poem.
something should fit.

Describing a feeling,
nothing generic,
nothing the same.

Thoughts in my head,
pop up.
Take form,
and live.
Whether it be by pen,
or sound.

This unknown poem.
It does not have a name.
It's topic,
should it be about an unknown poem,
and whatever poems pop into my head?

No.
Things like this aren't always the same,
not sticking to one topic to show anything.

Always changing,
always moving.

Describing one thing,
and switching just as fast.

The world around me,
I don't know.
I am blissfully ignorant,
of anything or anyone farther than my town.

This poem speaks my mind,
and I think it is good.

Anything can happen,
with this unknown poem,
that is now a poem that is known.

Now my thoughts are gone,
I put down my pen,
and I rest.




15cman -> RE: 15cman's Poetry (1/30/2009 19:13:57)

Right and Wrong


Things are simple to know and follow,
like right and wrong.

A simple path is laid before us,
right and wrong,
good and bad,
do this not that.

Something so easy to follow,
yet not so.
I and most others follow a different path in our lives,
mostly in the wrong,
and not in the right.

Sometimes my path changes to be in between,
a weird version of limbo,
or sometimes my path is always changing.

I find the right side,
but am led into temptation.

Right and wrong things,
rules,
so easy,
but yet so hard to follow.





15cman -> RE: 15cman's Poetry (2/1/2009 18:56:17)

Superbowl Sunday


I wake up,
in anticipation,
The day ahead,
filled with excitement,
although I hardly know who is facing who.

I pick one team,
and I root for them.
No matter what the outcome,
or any sort of foul play in between.

Bring out the shrimp,
the pizza,
the customary Superbowl Doritos!

This day,
it is one to be remembered.

That last play,
it was so close!
My mind racing,
my heart pounding,
I wait for the call.

It's a touchdown!
The room is filled with only one cheer.
My own.

The others are not excited,
since they chose the opposing team.
They'll learn though,
not to mess with the Steelers.

The final moments,
I'm so excited.

24 more seconds,
I hope, I pray.
Only 12 more seconds!

3...2...1...We win!
I run around the room in a victory lap,
screaming like a mad man to the heavens.

My favorite Superbowl,
it is that day,
but the next year,
I start it all over again.





15cman -> RE: 15cman's Poetry (2/2/2009 20:07:20)

3

Hope that outlasts empires,
poverty, fear, and more.

Hope that can make us stand our ground,
against anything.
Some have this gift,
their hope brings others to faith.

Faith...
it can move mountains,
it is the thing that bonds us together.

And from faith, there is a community,
and in which there is love.

Love cares,
it gives it's time to others.
It is not proud, and nor does it boast,
but it only boasts in the Lord.

These three things,
they are like a trilogy.
But the best is saved for last.

Love.







15cman -> RE: 15cman's Poetry (2/19/2009 20:58:26)

Curious


As each day grows,
I ponder questions,
not meant for my own.

We live,
we die,
and then what?

That is one of the questions I ask myself most,
it's curious how people don't see that there has to be something.
Something out there,
that created us all.

People want proof,
and it's curious how they just avoid the real question.

They want proof when no proof can be given,
except in the form of a small book.
"What can this book proove?"
They ask,
and I say everything and everything.

If we throw in religion,
all scientific equations made about the universe,
they are obselete.

It's curious how people just don't care,
or deny with small excuses.
They use their complex numbers,
to justify everything else...

When nothing is justifity.

Why do we deny?
Why do we run away?

It's curious,
even if I've found the answer,
it still is.

It's because we are afraid.




15cman -> RE: 15cman's Poetry (3/9/2009 19:50:59)

Farewell


As we age,
we say good bye to all we knew.

We leave friends behind,
pets alone,
and when it comes down to it,
all we have is family,
at best.

You'd think with all the sacrifices,
all the things we lose,
that everywhere we look,
people would be morning our losses.

Of course with time,
we forget,
so we do not say "farewell",
but we rather go on as we used to.

It's sad.
We have these great memories,
but we leave them behind,
we start our search anew.

I don't understand,
but with time I will,
why we do say good bye,
and just forget.




15cman -> RE: 15cman's Poetry (3/15/2009 16:51:08)

This is a short poem dedicated, in part, to my story called Encrypted.Warning:There are possible spoilers, but they are very vauge, if I do say so myself.



Encrypted

Our secret safe,
no one will know.

I, and I alone,
can access this,
and can keep it away from other eyes.

You make think,
that we do wrong,
with all our secrets held away.
But we do it only for the public good,
until we deem it worthy.

You see,
he is a masterpiece,
our soon-to-be prodigy.

But he holds the secrets,
secrets to things we do not,
and should not,
know.

So we've encrypted it.
An eternity code should do it.
Nothing can relate,
not being traced,
no way to find out except through me.





15cman -> RE: 15cman's Poetry (3/17/2009 20:54:03)

Call

We find ourselves lost,
but not really lost in our sight.
We gain the world,
but we lose our most important thing.

He calls us home,
no matter where we are.
We are bound by him,
but not with chains.
We are free,
but we belong.

He gives us our calling,
it's like a ringing phone.
We want to pick it up,
but we don't have caller ID.

Metaphorically.





15cman -> RE: 15cman's Poetry (3/28/2009 10:06:57)

Majesty


Swinging softly,
at peace,
I listen.

The sounds all around,
caressing over me.
In the distance I hear a bird.

I run to it,
faster and faster I go,
until I'm falling,
I'm going under.
Bathed in a sea of light and life.

Perfect peace,
just resting.

The sun comes up,
over the horizon.
I stop and stare,
gazing at it,
listening to the wind.

It's perfect,
this day,
this hour,
this second.

The majesty of the world,
it's around me.
Right here at home

It's not euphoria I feel,
nor sadness,
just calm.

Being calm from every day,
forgetting.
Stopping for once in my life,
just doing nothing.






15cman -> RE: 15cman's Poetry (3/30/2009 17:08:36)

Due to the fact that I couldn't continue with Encrypted due to lack of time, I decided to post the ending in a poem.If you can figure it out.I doubt you could, since I only made about 2 chapters and 1 prologue.I still have no clue as to what Jacob could have been used for...


Revealed

The end is near,
our story almost read.
We couldn't pull through,
we are too weak.

The time taken,
our freedom gone,
the plot of our schemes revealed.

I sit here,
behind cold iron bars,
caged inside and out.
No escape.

They know as well as I,
the tale that was spread.

It was a fake,
a waiting time bomb.
The hopes and dreams of millions,
crushed by a riddle.

Too late,
it's gone.
Now everyone knows.




15cman -> RE: 15cman's Poetry (4/25/2009 15:23:50)

Fail


I will not compromise.
I will not stand down,
to be swept aside.

My principles shall not be changed,
since they don't have the slightest bearing on me anyways.

Stubborn is my middle name,
Ignorance is my game.
Slithering around each obstacle,
making excuses,
but a bright side.

Unused to this new me,
people retaliate.
They shun me,
and I want to go back.

I do, for a time.
But I find that I know it's wrong,
and so I,
grudgingly,
return to light.

I stay there,
halfway,
between good and bad.
Right and wrong.
Light and darkness.

Then I stick 3/4
out there.
I cannot go further.




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