Must look up this poetry book- I Just Hope Its Lethal: Poems of Sadness, Madness, and Joy

Has this poem in it:

Razors pain you; rivers are damp; acids stain you; and drugs cause cramp. Guns aren't lawful; nooses give; gas smells awful; you might as well live. Dorothy Parker

http://www.amazon.com/Just-Hope-Its-Lethal-Sadness/dp/0618564527/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1339127379&sr=8-1



Anyway.............


I think all the poetry here is beautiful. Even raw poetry has its own beauty...

Sorry about the break-up darkened, love the icon though...don't get sad, get mad for now!

Tommy, funny poem.

Wow, I wish I was as creative as all of you.

True talent on this board!!

Darkempress, you've been in some scary places (((Hugs)))

I dare you Dancer, get a pen, or open a word doc and just start writing! You'll be surprised with what comes out!

Dancer, yea, I guess I have but I don't even think about it. Growing up autistic/bipolar and with most against you you just are used to it.

And I too dare you to write. You might be surprised. I never thought I would be able to write and yet, I write this stuff without much thought before cleaning them up!

Just let yourself go and think lol!!

I'll try it one day Shlay. I'm no poet and I know it!

I have a tough time writing hugs!! LOL

Writing is my life. I can not imagine doing anything else with my life. That's why I'm going to college for journalism, or an Eng Prof... Haven't quite decided yet.

Kudos to you Shlay!! You will be great at whichever you decide.

Thanks Dancer! It's time for me to hit the hay. Keep the thread going! See ya'll tomorrow!

Shlay: cool :) I went to college as long as I could for English LIterature....I wanted to work in a library so badly since I was a young kid :)!
It was fun while it lasted though!

There are some amazing poets here on the board. I read all of this post with great enjoyment.

I would encourage anyone who reads and enjoys to write. Writers write. Just do it. Let if flow.

Here is some sage advice from Ray Bradbury: "Don't think. Thinking is the enemy of creativity. It's self-conscious, and anything self-conscious is lousy. You can't try to do things. You simply must do things."

my dancing shoes

i wade into controversy
with glass slippers on my toes
delicate shoes for wading neck deep
the world covered in flood again
exposing the rawest elements
fire and brimstone
fear, pain, hate
insentient, unwanted poisons
torrents of mud thick
with sticks and rocks
shredding bare legs
tearing at my nakedness
exposing me completely
yet these crystalline shoes remain
sure-footed cats paws
holding fast
gripping slippery ground
emitting heavenly phos
moving my feet forward
upward and down too
through matters of heart and soul
heaven and hell they say
but these Waterford boots
will not, no cannot
be dislodged by a bullet
minefields are my dance floor
leaden appendages light as air
there are no missteps here
exploding black and white pages
--a personal crystalnach--
but my world wont be destroyed
and the riot wont consume
my shoes hold me up
waltzing lightly
from beginning to the end

____________________________

did you ever have a friend as beautiful as the night sky?

dark velvety smooth
with jagged edges
a shimmering milky way of madness
a black hole pulling at
deep buried sadness

never ending but not empty
then heavens declare
glories and praises
comfort and care

the morgue cold earth
a cradle for my back
not for death but for birth
blinking alive in the black

the universe a blanket
woven from a single thread
a swaddling of starlight
and pillow for my head

alone but not lonely
listening to nothing at all
no ghetto birds buzzing
no throbbing city noise

the theory of silly string
now amusingly real
in silence and darkness
Im learning to feel

river blinded eyes
found the power of sight
riveted by stardust
breadcrumbs of light
tossed across high above
a sure highway home
walking in faith
educated in love

Does the hallucinating begin under intense stress?
Afraid of being hurt I'd rather not reveal my current hurdle to those that don't know
Although my plate is full the fact is I think that this is probably my fault for not letting the anger go
Feelings of being provoked and intimidated still reside si I test my level of trust
My intention is to see how to remain stable through all these situations
Do I tell the people held up in my head that now isn't a good time and hope that they leave?
Or, do I let my family know what is occuring?
Do I continue to let them tell me that death comes when no one listens?
Did they return from my lack of sleep?
Did they return from the daily stresses I put myself through trying to heal?
Either way they are not allowed to stay, they have to go
I know that having to sufferwith nightmares and flashbacks, anxiety and anger, fear and everyday stresses I can't handle the voices also
Bound in a world that never agrees with what I want, which is continuous peace of mind

Its back

I know



this whole

damned

crazy show



the stage it is mine

I take lead part



the script is damning

the actors are few



oh to roll back the credits

start all anew



words spew from my lips

of wounds held, untold



my story, my life

slowly begins to unfold


they all sit and they watch

as my judge and my jury


why must I always explain

my own inner fury


yes the stage it is mine

and I do take lead part



what IS my role

but to surrender my soul

I use up the night like a consumable thing.
Drawing out every drop, every taste, every lick.
Consuming the night leaves me tired in the day,
but not so tired that I can sleep.
So I nap. after all.... I have another night to devour.

Bad one but hadn't slept for a few nights...


Its three in the morning and I cant sleep
The clock on the wall just seems to be telling me time is slipping away
With thoughts racing through my mind
Im tired but I cant sit still
Lying on the bed just seems to makes it worse
But its peaceful at this time the world seems so still
No movement in air, just the street light for company
But this the time for rest and I cant sleep
As the clock hits four
Im frustrated even more
Its time to take my feet out the door
I walk for awhile worried the police maybe called
A crazy guys walking around while where all trying to sleep
Because house owners dogs seem to go completely mental at any strangers at this time of day
My head been cleared as I start to make it back to the door
Its five in the morning the birds start to sing
That damn kookaburras laugh still seems to echo through my head
I know its late, I need some sleep
Just a little to get me through the day
Just as my head hits the pillow my eyes too tired to stay open
I hear the next door neighbours complaining the guy next doors had his lights on all night again.
This wakes me up as they talk in the drive
Oh well, Im up now, theres coffee to be had
As I sit and drink my fill, I think to myself
Tomorrow night, if nothing else I can go through all this all again

I can rhyme words.
But I can't write poetry.

There's a difference.

I can't write poetry.
But I can inspire it.

This is a poem that was written for me.


Cyber Muses

To Carla


You appear in a box on the screen,
Tiny but perfectly you,
My hearts desire, echo of my heart, mirror of my soul,
Drawn to me across a web of nothingness

I click to full screen,
You are there full blown and lovely,
I hear your voice across the Ethernet,
So musical, the cadence, the rhythm, the beat.

You talk, we laugh,
We banter back and forth,
I trace the outline of your face,
The line of your lips.

You giggle and dimples show,
Your teeth flash in a diamond smile,
Then your eyes meet mine,
Ah those eyes that stare across the void.

I know I should look at the Cam,
But they draw me so powerfully,
Like metal to a magnet,
Like a plant to sunlight.

I stroke your hair,
Oh if this screen could melt,
If I could but reach inside,
To hold you, touch you.

To take my hand beneath your hair,
To pull you to me and to hold,
To kiss your mouth,
To feel you close on me.

Its late you say,
Yes my love its late,
But still time, still time,
And so we close.

For a moment a brief instant you are frozen,
My love, my heart, my very soul leaps with joy,
Then you are gone,
Yet you remain in my mind forever.