Maidens of the Kaleidoscope
~Hakurei Shrine~ => Patchouli's Scarlet Library => Topic started by: MayKissingDoveWyks on March 11, 2011, 06:49:01 PM
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I have decided, after much thought, to put poems I have written or will write. I have written poems in the past, but I am going to put what I recently wrote for my school's literary magazine first. Then when I write more, it will go here.
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Words:
Time and a word
They mean nothing,
without having designated meaning
Conceive nothing?by themselves useless
And most certainly?
Smell nothing.
Peace is a word
A word of a beginning
Of a theme...
Of an end
The words come out of the mouth
So pure and emotional
Not posses any mind to their direction
Into the tunnels of perception
Flying:
I cannot find room in this place
Or room in any other space
Above there in a common state
Of which all does not remonstrate
Join me for a cycle
In a round trip with Michael
Upon mountains of girth
Where several clouds birth
I join up with you at the turn
For every sunbeam makes us yearn
Round-about and flying around
It feels better than on the ground
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A nonsense verse.
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Being Inspired by Lewis Carroll:
Peculiar was the prolling in the wight
For a night so doring and corooding kal
They cranced and shorveled through a flight
And forrowed into jangherd called Maorfaal
Quafflers quibbled thron the straden straights
In cordance of noxious, foracious Shinblers? feets
A placard of doran caceeded thron the weights
Upon which the warobaills could marble the cheets.
As the wight strood bright
They morted the yorrowing jight.
Them prollings foughted jandely on the turnbast
For the creaks and croacks hoffled in the foundergast
Could have thast croused the morning dest
For those chabblers and Oliffardans?
Noth! They patter in their quandaries of jest
So they beworth the skawonks that affade in jans
Surely I corfoddle one with such reffidies
Which skawonks spake pollered waquells
Upon lorwells of zioman effigies
In pester founded and dejounded godrells
Yes, these anedails of yold and gorrodan
Snorting patchoulis and cavadiering lace
Yet coffles and quaffles prose as homan
In unison for the wight?s comorsion ace
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Different Days:
I look to the sky
What do I see?
?Blue with a touch of white?
What I normally expect?
But today was a different day
Not like all the other days
?Yes? No? I?m not thinking that.?
Every day is different
In its own special way
The road always splits two paths
Left and right?
What about up and down? Diagonal?
Only you yourself on that path know
On different days
Rain, wind
Shine, or snow
Frolicking in the meadows
Flowers brimming or decaying
On different days
Music
Glistening through the air
Would it touch my eardrum?
A sound so pure and calm
On different days
Sights
The view and colors from light
Reflections touching retinas
In a visible range
On different days
On different days
Sky reigns, earth turns
Winds blow, water flows
But these different days
Make it all better?
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Waiting:
All I do
Wait, wait, and wait
Not a spot or a clue
No time moving straight
My eyes burn in anguish, a rash
The sun beats on my neck
Thus my skin gets a gash
I must be a living train wreck
I lie there awake in sound
For my mind is imploding
Feeling tendrils pull up from the ground
This earth is too foreboding
Give me a sign, from above
Without stress and haste
An olive branch with a dove
One sign that does not waste
Make me wait millennia, ages
Make me suffer on these tides
Make me the wisest of sages
Make it lasting of which confides
I never seen such atrocities
Throughout time waiting
Must I suffer these animosities?
Memory fading?
Do not make me wait
I wish it for the better light
Guide me through this fate
And let my soul take flight
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Solace:
Without solace
I?m at a crossroads
Too wide to cross
Too narrow to walk
It could be my own thoughts, or are these my thoughts?
The time ticks
The heart whirrs
But my silence?
?Is my sustenance
Have I felt too much abrasion in these somnolent times?
My energy has dissipated?
No condolences I give myself
But why should I be the one?
Who maintains me?
My consolation? Gone
If I am not consoled, I am lonely
But wasn?t I lonely before?
Vicious cycles never seem to end
And I can see no outlook either
But why am I wasting myself on travesties of my own?
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Nights:
A jolly time we have in the meadows
This Saturday when the sun shines bright
Spring, to which we enjoy ourselves in light
I have been grateful that we are widows
After the promenade, lets take it to my place
After all, it was an exhausting venture
I just hope we do not get a censure
I can?t stand to loose such a beautiful face
I linger on the couch for a careful pause
As you put on a gown in such zeal
We go on all night like it was real
That bed was so soft, nothing like gauze
The passion
The ferocity
The crooning
The moaning
But the next morning, I found you missing
I went to look out the window, no car
But on the desk?
A note, a phone number, saying you weren?t far
May you come back after I go fishing?
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My god go die
I have no use for you
Nor have I a use for anyone.
Die die die die die die
Your returns to me are a farce
The shit you spew equates
To all the crap I must take
And no more of this I want
Your dictations are full nonesuch.
The die has been cast
And I want it to end
Lies must stop now
But there is no amends.
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For what it?s worth
No morals, no life
Quietly, somberly
Would take it up?
The doldrums bang
The whistle toot
Why would my own mind
Give me the boot?
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I do not wish to share my poetry anymore.
/thread