A Pessimist/ And other poems.

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I look for deep weather,

To take me down away,

The light seems far gone now,

And nothing have I to say.

I struggle in the smother'ngs,

Of day's lightest morn,

Cry when I have everything,

Laugh when I have none.

The saddest hour is perfection,

Yet happy is a wrong,

I stand - unbearable - nothing found a cause.

----

I like it. That is all. xD

----


I lose my conscience when I thirst,

For innocence prolonged,

I strangle it to silence,

I drink its precious blood.

It cries as it wavers,

And soon it's all but gone,

Now there is another,

Socio all along.

----

If Satan has his hour,

And God his day,

Do I get the month, then,

Or is it all as His?

Have I grasped at straws,

'Til beaten - bruised they fall?

Or do I simply clutch at nothing,

Imagination raw?

Take my path, sweet angel,

Devils do not dare.

For as He says - so truthfully,

"The spirit is willing,

But the flesh is weak."

----

A sprint for life,

Is all I have,

A hope for happenstance.

I tremble in the corner,

Forgotten - all but lost.

They eas'ly call me hopeless,

And look down 'pon my cold.

Yet there is one more - a single hope for me.

Someone who would care.

Someone who would hold me close,

And tell me just to dare and hope,

That at last I had found a lov'ng Father,

A Mother who would say,

"I love you more then anything,

My daughter you shall stay."

----

A lasting end,

A beg'ning for the good,

A light among the darkness,

Some info for you would,

Help to melt the apathy,

The mat'rialistic sick,

That sweeps across my nation,

And binds my people tight.

I fight for rights and freedom,

For hope and life and love,

Yet no one wants to hear me,

Convenience is their all.

But somehow I still struggle,

To open up their eyes,

And tell them all is trouble,

They need to find my light.
Last edited by Sela Locke on Sun Jun 29, 2008 6:17 am, edited 1 time in total.
Well, I can't eat muffins in an agitated manner. The butter would probably get on my cuffs. One should always eat muffins quite calmly. It is the only way to eat them.

--Algernon, The Importance of Being Earnest




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Oh cool! What's it discribing because Im always oblivious to these things....
-em
We've all been broken in some way. It's just how we express it that makes us dffrent form eachother.

“This precious book of love, this unbound lover,
To beautify him only lacks a cover.”
~William Shakespeare, The Tragedy of Romeo and Juliet




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Sela Locke wrote:I just wrote this at impulse. I've never written any poems before, please try to not to be hard on me. :)

___________________________________

These claws reach ever deeper,
I don't know what to do,
These claws reach ever deeper,
And I can't believe it's true.

These claws reach ever deeper,
Oh, what do I know?

I want you, I need you,
Are you real, or fake to me?
These claws reach ever deeper,
My life blood's leaving me...


_______________________

Yes, it's stupid, and repetitive, but it kind of... speaks to me. It was inspired by my story, 'Ancient Lies' which is in Adventure/Action. But you probably didn't want to know that. xD
Just please review! :)


It's very repetive and not exactly clear of what it's about. I've split it up so it flows better.

Overall: It doesn't seem to make any sense. Plus it's quite cliche. I could say more but holding back harshness.

Good luck
VSN
We get off to the rhythm of the trigger and destruction. Fallujah to New Orleans with impunity to kill. We are the hidden fist of the free market.
We are the ink, we are the quill.
[The Ink And The Quill (Be Afraid) - Anti-Flag]




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As a poem, i think it has potential! It's interesting and the repetitive lines give it personality that other poetry lacks!
Cliche is an overused word! This poem could mean whatever you want it to mean, so go for it - if it inspired a book, then it's worth it! And if you aren't sure about it, then expand it, shrink it, build to it and play around with ideas about what the line
'these claws reach ever deeper'
might mean. Could it mean something different everytime? a repeated representation of similar subjects?
Maybe reconsider the line 'and i can't believe it's true' as, i don't know, it just doesn't seem to fit with the rest of your very mysterious and melancholy poem!

Just some thoughts i had!

I hope you will consider them! If so, i look forward to reading any re-writes or extra thoughts you might have on this poem.

best of luck with later ventures!! ^^
Those who dance are considered insane by those who cannot hear the music.
-- George Carlin




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It's an interesting poem, but it doesn't really tell what it's about clearly. I get that it's about someone going away and you don't want that to happen and sort of angery at that person for leaving. I maybe completely wrong, but that's my guess. It is sort of repetitive, but I think it ties the poem together and if it inspired you to write a book than it was definetly worth writting.
War doesn't determin whoes right
War determins who's left



Every first draft is perfect, because all a first draft has to do is exist.
— Jane Smiley