I used to write poetry frequently but haven't...

[Lost in the Oilfield]

I used to write poetry frequently but haven't for some time. I never threw the poems away though. I wrote them at a difficult time in my life and I like to look back on them to remind me that I can make it through anything as long as I remember where I came from and what I've made it through already. I didn't do all that great in English classes, and I haven't really shown anybody my poems so I don't expect rave reviews, but here they are all the same:

-A Smile

A smile,
Such a simple thing
What joy,
Can this beauty bring
A second,
Where my soul is free
What power,
Comes so easily?

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

-Can It Be?

This life of worries cast in fluid
Pondering questions thoroughly
Through it
Wondering what this life could mean
Wondering what is as it seems
Could there be a simple way
A single way, a solid way
To see how we may
Make the best of each day
To reveal the answers
Locked deep in the essence
To unveil the truths
Within such deep lies
To fight against ourselves and all we despise
And in the end see all made right
See justice put to light
Honor born to flight
Innocence in it's might
I hope and pray this'll be the way.

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

Procrastinator

Indecision crouches low
To deal at last to me its blow
I've nowhere left to which to turn
Within my mind my pyre burns

I've waited oh so waited long
Stood still and pondered through its song
And in so doing I waste myself
Another failure on the shelf
Procrastination, my only wealth

So fails my spirit, and with it, my health

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

Three Realms

Heaven shines divine
Hell a well of souls
No holds barred
The space between so far
And Earth spans the great divide
The souls here are the prize.

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

Nothing Special

I am not special, nothing proud.
My single voice, is not so loud.
My words, whether true, bear no great weight.
I singe my nerves,
while awake so late.

I wish I could figure, what life means
but I have no place, or so it seems.
I once believed, I would be great
but I grow tired, and the night grows late.

Hold strong and close, all that's dear
and never, ever succumb to fear
for the dawn of a new day is near.

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

Dreamer

A slave to impossibility
Never succumb to reality
Thrive only upon what can be

Never held
by what I can see
Within this world
I can never be free
For I live
within a dream

 

[jales]

you real modest jed..those were amazing

 

[diamond-dancer]

I find I can only write when I am overwhelmed with extreme emotion. Any mood in between and I just can't find the inspiration.

'Three Realms 'is my favourite. I like the heaven and hell imagery it evokes.

I also like 'Nothing Special' and suspect you wrote it late at night.

I'm glad you shared these.

 

[Lost in the Oilfield]

Thanks Jales, you're too kind

Diamond-dancer-
Three Realms I like for it's simplicity.

Nothing Special I wrote one night after staying up all night preparing for a speech I was going to do the next day in college. I chose a topic that was waaaaay to deep. Even after a month working on it I felt I had just barely touched on the subject. I felt like such an idiot the next day when everyone had speechs about their hobbies, or working out, one girl even came without a speech prepared... she just stood in front of the class and talked about how excited she was that she was quitting college that week to go backpacking across Europe with her friends. I wrote that poem frustrated and exhuasted at about 4-5am... the sun was just starting to come up anyway. That was about seven years ago. I still remember how I felt that morning though... defeated.

 

[Lost in the Oilfield]

Oh, almost forgot the first part.
I also find I need raw emotion to put together a poem that has any meaning.
I even wrote a poem about that one time when I was frustrated because I couldn't make a good poem... didn't include it before because I don't really like it, but I will now since it is an example of what happens when I try to force a poem:

-Rum and Charcoal-
(I was drinking rum on a park bench because I was upset that I hadn't been writing anything lately, think it was 2002. I picked up a stick and burned the end with my lighter to make a pencil, and wrote the following poem on the paper bag the rum had come in while watching the sun set over the city)

The sun sets in a new way
Nothing new gained today
Wish I could fly away
All of the trouble I'd save
Of having to dig a new grave
What worth has this body to earth?

I see what joy can be
But what is joy to me?

My sorrows lay in the dust
For my loneliness is a must
To fuel my burning desire
To take my art ever higher

My solitude is my passions brood

 

[diamond-dancer]

Oh, almost forgot the first part.
I also find I need raw emotion to put together a poem that has any meaning.
I even wrote a poem about that one time when I was frustrated because I couldn't make a good poem... didn't include it before because I don't really like it, but I will now since it is an example of what happens when I try to force a poem:

-Rum and Charcoal-
(I was drinking rum on a park bench because I was upset that I hadn't been writing anything lately, think it was 2002. I picked up a stick and burned the end with my lighter to make a pencil, and wrote the following poem on the paper bag the rum had come in while watching the sun set over the city)

The sun sets in a new way
Nothing new gained today
Wish I could fly away
All of the trouble I'd save
Of having to dig a new grave
What worth has this body to earth?

I see what joy can be
But what is joy to me?

My sorrows lay in the dust
For my loneliness is a must
To fuel my burning desire
To take my art ever higher

My solitude is my passions brood

I love the story of how this poem came about....used a stick as a pencil! Hah! It seems rushed though....like you were just trying to get it over with.

During my lunch break I decided to see if I could write anything of any substance. Imagine the worst parts of all the bad teenage poetry that's been written, and you'll have an idea of what I was able to come up with. It's decided, - passion required!

 

[Lost in the Oilfield]

Lol, I agree passion required.

Though over the years I've found that even that can sometimes leave a poem lacking in substance... I think it's sort of a measure of passion, form, and practice...

Taking raw emotions and putting them into words that can be understood by another or adapted to the life of another requires skills that I'm afraid I don't have enough discipline to fully develop... though I'll probably keep writing from time to time, cause if nothing else, I like to rhyme.

 

[Eyael]

Great! I really hope you keep writing poetry, I really liked your poems, specially ''Dreamer''...

Thank you for your poems, they're really great

 

[diamond-dancer]

though I'll probably keep writing from time to time, cause if nothing else, I like to rhyme.

You'll be set if the world around you suddenly bursts into song and dance like in the movies. =)

 

[Lost in the Oilfield]

Eyael thanks for the encouragement, I'll have to make an effort to pick up the pen and write once again.

Dancer... I'll take care of the songs and you can cover the dancing k?

Though I think those movies that do that are some of the greatest comedies ever...

West Side Story, Grease, etc. make me laugh better than most comedians can.

I watched Grease many, many years ago at my exgirlfriends insistence (she loved the movie). The second John Travolta burst into song... something about the the look on his face made me explode with laughter... by the end of the movie I was still laughing constantly... I had tears running down my face and my gut hurt. Ah... what a great laugh that was, I'll have to watch it again sometime.

What a wonderful world it'd be if it really were like that! People dancing around and singing... people like me rolling around on the ground in hysterics, so much fun!

 

[Lost in the Oilfield]

Well I put together another poem... I suppose it was sort of inspired by recently getting in touch with a number of people that I haven't really seen or spoken with for many years. I'm thinking it's almost like waking from a dream... a decade long dream... maybe more of a social coma. Well, anyway, it means I'm making changes I never had the strength to make before. Perhaps this would go better under the Success section... but it's only a partial success... besides, it's a poem so I'll put it with the other poems... enough ranting:

(no title yet)

I sat amidst crimson cliffs
Below far stretched the shore
Absorbing all around me,
natures beauty I adore

Great orange sun arises
as if freed from the sea
Casting light across the land
I bask in its glory

I wish sometimes as I sit there
The waves could turn back time
Wash away my doubts and fears
Turned back to a small boy

I know that time just carries on
Like seagulls on the breeze
There's times when life can be so cruel
And bring me to my knees

I can't recall when it was
Where it was I lost my way
But I try to keep my chin up high
and cherish better days

Some day soon I know for sure
That all my days will pass by
I can only hope that in that time
I'll have always thought to try

I hope that as the grains of sand
spread across the shore
I'll be able to look back
To all the good times had before

Remembering in the fading dusk
In the twilight of my days
How much I have been loved
And gave love in my own way

 

[diamond-dancer]

Well I put together another poem... I suppose it was sort of inspired by recently getting in touch with a number of people that I haven't really seen or spoken with for many years. I'm thinking it's almost like waking from a dream... a decade long dream... maybe more of a social coma. Well, anyway, it means I'm making changes I never had the strength to make before. Perhaps this would go better under the Success section... but it's only a partial success... besides, it's a poem so I'll put it with the other poems... enough ranting:

(no title yet)

I sat amidst crimson cliffs
Below far stretched the shore
Absorbing all around me,
natures beauty I adore

The great orange sun rises
as if freed out from the sea
Casting light across the land
I bask in its glory

I wish sometimes as I sit there
The waves could turn back time
Wash away my doubts and fears
Turn me back to a small boy

I know that time just carries on
Like the seagulls on the breeze
There's times when life can be so cruel
And bring me to my knees

I can't recall when it was
Where it was I lost my way
But I try to keep my chin up high
and cherish better days

Some day soon I know for sure
That all my days will pass by
I can only hope that in that time
I'll have always thought to try

I hope that as the grains of sand
spread across the shore
I'll be able to look back
To all the good times had before

Remembering in the fading dusk
In the twilight of my days
How much I have been loved
And gave love in my own way

I like that final stanza. It's easy to forget the good things that have happened in your life when things around you take a turn for the worst.

Anyway, good luck going back to work! Hope we get to hear from you every so often. =)

 

[Lost in the Oilfield]

Thanks Diamond,
I'm glad to be back in touch with so many people and hear about how their lives are going... hey thanks for sending me a friend request btw.

I'm in hotel that has wireless again, yahooooo, and think I'll be here for a few couple months... only have a few hours after work each day to go online, but I'll try to keep checking in when I can.

ooooh 5:30am comes so early
Well, I should sleep some... g'night!

 

[Lost in the Oilfield]

To A Friend

As day rise to pay thee well
Fine rays of sun upon thee fell
The soft caress to carry you through
The day tumultuous to be true

But know when day comes to an end
You'll have a message that I sent
A message that should bid thee well
A message short, sent from a friend

 

[Lost in the Oilfield]

To A Friend Again

With the last rhyme made I to you
I was most pleased pleasure ensued,
that with a thought or two, or three,
I pen another poem to thee.

With simple rhyming lines of poem
mayhap some jesting undertone
I hope that I may light your day
With senseless comic words I say

The days are numbered as they pass
Before you now few left to last
Till soon you may enjoy your peace
And rest thee soon with holiday's release

 

[Qui]

You're too complex, I can't perceive
The way you think or how you breathe
I'm drowning in the words you say
And in the silence I fade away

(not trying to steal the spotlight, just didn't want to start a new thread just to post 4 lines of teen poetry, seemed fairly wasteful to me)

 

[Lost in the Oilfield]

Lol, no worries Qui I was considering throwing in some famous poems I like, but never got around to it... wonderful poem by the way!
Is that yours?

I've seen some of the poetry on your journal site... also excellent work I might add.

 

[diamond-dancer]

To A Friend

As day rise to pay thee well
Fine rays of sun upon thee fell
The soft caress to carry you through
The day tumultuous to be true

But know when day comes to an end
You'll have a message that I sent
A message that should bid the well
A message short, sent from a friend

Oh... you meant THAT poem!

 

[diamond-dancer]

You're too complex, I can't perceive
The way you think or how you breathe
I'm drowning in the words you say
And in the silence I fade away

(not trying to steal the spotlight, just didn't want to start a new thread just to post 4 lines of teen poetry, seemed fairly wasteful to me)

Qui,

Your teenage poetry is a lot better than other teenage poetry... It's like the Rolls-Royce of teenage poetry...or the white chocolate and raspberry ice cream of teenage poetry....Mmm... ice cream. Seriously... bad teenage poetry is a global problem.

 

[Qui]

Lol, no worries Qui I was considering throwing in some famous poems I like, but never got around to it... wonderful poem by the way!
Is that yours?

I've seen some of the poetry on your journal site... also excellent work I might add.

oh yeah, that's mine. :shy: thank you, really it isn't much.

Qui,

Your teenage poetry is a lot better than other teenage poetry... It's like the Rolls-Royce of teenage poetry...or the white chocolate and raspberry ice cream of teenage poetry....Mmm... ice cream. Seriously... bad teenage poetry is a global problem.

well thank you but you're right about crap teen poetry... it's epidemic