Hey folks! Got a poem here that I thought might be OK for this thread. It's not positive nor is it really negative, hope you don't mind.
Each day you fade more and more from my mind.
Each day you are one more step further away from me.
Each day your image becomes more and more hazy in my mind.
Each day you become a gloomy shadow of how much you used to mean to me.
Every night you bring loneliness to my dreams.
Every night your memory subconsciously rips at my heart.
Every night you are but a mere ghost painfully haunting my dreams.
Every night you keep me awake as I try and bring you back to my heart.
My life is so empty without you.
I canít even remember who you really are
And what you mean to me.
But I do know that we shared some good times together.
Those memories are growing rusty in my mind.
I remember that you were always there for me
I could always open my heart to you
And youíd always come through for me.
Now I donít know if I can confide in a memory.
Strings caught tight from head to foot
Catch the music in the air
Strings vibrating under my touch
Send dancers twirling without care
Strings, such simple things
Although I know it aint much
Strings evoke these pleasurable thoughts
Can you play the strings on my heart?
I 'll whisper in your ear
As you draw near
I'll kiss you slow
I'll kiss you soft
sending your heart aloft
I'll nuzzle your chin
As you begin
To let me in.
I'll play the strings on your heart.
I was listening to some guitar music and wanted to write something down. I was trying to go for a two part poem but it seems to be two separate ones. What do you guys think. One or Two. Makes some changes for a cleaner fit or work on each one as their own?
I am back from my winter's sleep once more and will post some more glass half full kind of stuff that you find in your oreo treats like the time you had just the right saturation of milk in the cookie and always wished to perfect that moment once more.
__________________ Full fathom five thy father lies;
Of his bones are coral made;
Those are pearls that were his eyes:
Nothing of him that doth fade
But doth suffer a sea-change
Into something rich and strange.
Wow I took almost a whole year to follow up on this and on my other post I haven't been on for over three years. So may be I can find something here to throw out. Perhaps a look at my random meanderings.
Something appropriate for this theme.
Okay. Here we go.
Sometimes the urge moves you
towards a desperate search for pen and paper.
Fearful of losing a concise thought
down the stairs
or the hallway
Rifle viciously through drawers
Unaware of labored breaths
Expelling from your heaving chest.
Breaths of desire
Breaths of anticipation
Breaths of need
For once you claim your piece of paper
By planting your pen upon its fertile soil
Your thoughts shoot out
Like lightening marking a path
Upon this earth .
And at the end you look over what you have done
All in one.