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poetry_club
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Name: People who think they lik
Interests: Do whatever you do best to express yourself. Feel proud of what you do and share it. We'll be nice. We promise!
Expertise: What ever rocks your boat, music or rap, prose or verse, art or words. Just be creative
Message: message me
Member Since:
9/7/2003
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| At Some Time This May Be/Have Been TrueI Love You.
I LOVE YOU. YOU. YOU.YOU.YOUYOU
I want to love you.
(But I never will. it's not my fault though)
No. I truly fucking do love you.
Without pause. Without conviction. No evidence to support the accusation. But some part of my union earnestly feels it to be true.
I'd cut my self for you. Chop off every protrusion but one in waiting for the right time (night time). No limbs, no nose, no ears, only one hose. Destroyed my physical state in effort to go beyond obvious limitations. And it does not work. Yet in my disfigurement- I realize. Even in the future, my destruction will have been meaningless as the concepts of physics because something "devine" consumes my mind. And only a trunk with a head and a stub gets left behind.
(my shell)
i love me shell
--by Napolion | | |
| Meaningless Comment and No PropsThe time's been passing
In hasting fashion's lasting.
Your pain endlessly building.
I can relate.
What disconnect is present
in needless words to be spoken.
The day's crudely shapen.
I can relate.
But in exception.
Without hate.
Nor sorrow.
And never desire, for
tomorrow the day breaks.
Never refuse to write another line another day
and know that blood is truly ubiquitous
my brothers and sisters.
Because I can relate.
--by Napolion | | |
| Asleep under the assumption that It would be
without payment
except for my eventual demise.
It, the sun.
He awoke again.
The effort of his subconscious despair
had to be recorded to deny disbelief.
The common-man was suffering in his sleep.
Before he would rise,
he would scream
all the diffused gas that streamed
by his wobbly strings.
Sinew like.
Kept up like the puppet
he most definitely denied to be. But,
I managed to keep him at bay.
I, the son.
Father ran a course to secure his stay.
In bed I'd stay, him away.
The common-man held me back, but when I first stand each morn in the gentle light, alongside my mate, I grow ever more.
She's moved without recognition
of my terror, of the disbelief...
to pay, we've had to run away from our ways.
Ran so far, as far as the sun projects his rays.
As long as i could be with she.
She, The One
by Napolion
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| i fucked up today. i feel like shit. what do you do when there's nothing else to do? just sitting. and waiting. for what? for something to happen. for things to get better. but will they? the cycle of life. endless, miserable, pathetic cycle. loser. that's my. i fucked up today. and tomorrow's not looking much better.
sitting and hoping. but what's there to hope for? nothing. i'm falling deeper into despair. help me please. | | |
| Almost Yale
So here I am. I’ve waited so long.
Expecting so much, hoping, dreaming
Of what?
Not quite what I expected
And yet I feel so alone
I’m not perfect anymore
Scared that I’ll screw up
Scared that I’m no good here
They all know what they’re doing
His confident swagger,
Smiling gently, friendly, inviting eyes
She talks about her experience
What do I have to offer?
I don’t quite belong here
A midget among intellectual giants
I want to go home
I want to go back to my home full of small people
Where I’ll once again shine and be my giant
By: Mychell | | |
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