Poetry
The ability to write it,
A gift with words,
With meter, sometimes rhyme.
Emotions and psychology.
Images and metaphors.
What makes poetry?
If someone says it is poetry,
Does that make it true?
If a piece does not rhyme,
How can you tell?
Many ways.
Perhaps the fact
That it makes no sense,
Or is broken up,
In strange ways,
Like this is.
That it speaks of things
That never were,
Or maybe things that are,
But in a way
That you never
Could have dreamed up.
Similes, analogies, metaphors,
What is the difference?
Must the image be a flower?
Do you have to have
Sight, touch, smell, hearing,
And even taste?
Or do yo
A promise I made,
A word that I spoke,
A word I regret,
A promise I broke.
A lack of interest,
A bored action,
A failure to learn,
A superficial distraction.
A look to the past,
A glance up ahead,
A happy present,
A future without dread.
A hopeful prospect,
A word left unspoken,
A life unregretted,
A promise unbroken.
Strolling along,
I hear leaves on the trees,
Theyre peacefully blown,
By a gentle breeze.
Shielding my eyes,
Against the bright sun,
I smile at life,
Feeling no need to run.
Walking forward,
I slow to a stop,
I see a young woman,
Asleep in the crops.
Starting towards her,
She stirs her head,
Her small eyes open,
They gleam bright red.
Turning back,
I briskly go,
Across the bridge,
Of concrete stone.
Breaking into a jog,
Then into a sweat,
Eyes closed against a picture,
That I cant forget.
Tripping and stumbling,
I cant get away,
From those blood-red eyes,
In that innocent face.
Choking and retchi
The late sunlight glints off your window,
Like a flame on the darkest of nights,
Your hand is all that I see of you,
As it moves across paper and writes.
The leaves on your walk rustle faintly,
And I hear the creak of your door,
I already know your decision,
That for you here there is nothing more.
The wind blows your long hair away,
Revealing your shadow of a face,
I now see the beauty of that shadow,
That shadow that I did abase.
You lift your sad face towards the moonlight,
With your feet at the edge of the drop,
You open your eyes but dont see me,
Somehow, I cant tell you to stop.
You take a deep breath and loo
The birds are still singing,
Though the rains falling down,
And bells are now ringing,
In a once silent town,
Though the sky may look gray,
And life may seem unfair,
Just think of another day,
And find solace there.
Oh hello there. So. I moved accounts about two years ago. You can find me at paranku-mingyuan (https://www.deviantart.com/paranku-mingyuan), if you so choose. Sorry for forgetting to mention that.
So, what's up with me? Well, all of my best friends, including my sister, are leaving for college in the next few weeks, and then at the beginning of September I'll start school. Horror of horrors. I'm not really the same person I was when I used this account, but everyone changes, and I'm pretty sure they were changes for the better. I'm no longer a socially awkward middle-schooler with anger issues. That's a good thing. Okay, I don't have much else to say.
Tschuss!! :heart:
I found this on sosweetgirl (https://www.deviantart.com/sosweetgirl)'s journal. It looked like fun.
+RULIEZ+
The first 5 people that respond to this post will get something made by me. It will be about, or tailored to, those first five people to respond.
This offer does have some restrictions and limitations:
- I make no guarantees that you will like what I make.
- What I create will be just for you.
- It'll be done this year.
- You have no clue what it's going to be. It may be a mix tape. It may be fic, or a poem. (I don't know what all these things are, they're just in the rules) I may draw or paint something. I might bake you something and mail it to you. Who knows? N