Traverse

This is one of my favourite poems. For no particular reason. It also nearly got published twice. The first time I procrastinated with the authors release form until it was too late. The second time I decided I didn't want to get it published in the particular publication that was interested, so I didn't send in the authors release on purpose. (Edit: Well balls to that apparently they decided they would publish it anyway. I'm very disappointed. I really didn't want to be associated with that particular publication.)

Has anyone heard of Mat Kearney, if not check out his song "Girl America", I don't know what genre to call him, acoustic rap? Tyron and Ross will definitely say pop.

Traverse

I have been done and dusted,
Cold in my heart where I have trusted.
Throw up my hands it's hardly fair,
Call out for help shoot off a flare.
Thunder in dark skies and thunder in my heart,
Fall on gravel roads; I began with a hard start.
Clawing my way to this mountain top,
Hardened hands from struggling, hardened heart when I stop.
Crying at a difference in equality,
Dieing in deep pool of iniquity.
Falling down, discarding crowns, but you never let me drown.
Through the depths I wade, through the depths I've made, too fast I fade,
Thank God, you save.
Bound in misery, I forget about destiny, I create a new history.
Fists on distant shores, fists in church halls, fists make new bruises on old sores.
Love expiring, love in the line they're firing, love they're no longer buying.
Built up on selfishness, fed on desire,
They build their little towers, they try to get higher.
I am no longer in that contest, no longer in conquest,
No longer in pursuit, searching out for a silver lining, a lifestyle of whining and dining.
No longer do I crave what is not yet dust, what has not yet fallen away,
I don’t want what will never remain, I want it your way, I live for your day.
On a bended heart on bended knees, I struggle against apathy,
It is my own personal hypocrisy, but this is the trophy snapshot I've taken,
I stand one foot on top of me, pose for the flash I’ve got victory.

A Thought for Food

Sheesh! The netty netty is slow today. Damn you rain for interfering with my signal. Sorry so late my beloved readers. Today is the second of the only two light hearted poems I ever wrote. Again all blame lies at the feet of Douglas Adams. Stay tuned though thursday I will post up one of my favourite poems.

A Thought for Food

My food looked up at me from my plate,
It SCREAMED for mercy,
Trying to avoid its fate.
But I couldn't hear it scream:
"Dont eat me please!",
Because I couldn't understand foodenese.

Next time you have supper, breakfast or lunch,
Consider the pain of your food as you munch.

Do they want to be eaten?
Do they want to freeze?
Do they want to be put in an oven?
To bake at 200 degrees.

Why should we not let them grow old,
mouldy, green and white,
You would not like to be eaten alive,
Stopped, from living out the whole of your life.

So next time you have a meal,
Be it fruit, veggies or meat,
How about a moments silence or prayer,
To be thankful and honour the food that you eat.

Forecast of Pain

Hello mense. Sorry to my masses and masses of readers for the late update. This is from my much darker days, when I struggled with depression. It's kinda raw, and it's one of my earlier poems so its kinda unpolished. But at least it's honest. Man depression sucks to your asma.

Forecast of Pain

Thunder
So very loud
Then it begins to rain,
And another gloomy day
Washes in
With all its pain,
My mood
It sinks ever lower
And I begin to think my life
Is nearly over.

And it wasn't you
Who said I couldn't make it,
But it was you
Who tried to fake it.
And this friendship turned thorny weed
Grows even stronger
When I bleed,
Especially on those rainy days
When all my hopes and dreams
Wash away.

And just when things couldn't get more bleak
They forecast rain
Everyday of the week.

Old-fashioned Western Gunfight

Monday back to the grind for some. I work weekends so I don't know about your blessed lives. I thought I would put something lighthearted up. Why did I write a meaningless poem such as this I don't know, blame Douglas Adams. Also don't be afraid to leave negative (but polite) commentary about my poems. I'm not just posting here for headgrow purposes. I want to get better; for that I need critics.

Ps.Tyron, I'm working on the zombies, but for now here is cowboys.

Old-fashioned Western Gunfight

The leaves fall in Autumn,
The flowers bloom in spring,
I wonder what villains this summer will bring.

As the clouds part
To reveal the sun,
And the brilliant white light, reflects off his gun.

This man of the law,
The sheriff of his town,
All his enemies lay buried, six-feet underground.

As long as his gun
Is right by his side,
He has no fear, no doubt in his mind.
That there is no villian,
Too fast, or too smart,
He'll never miss, as he aims for the heart.

When winter encroaches,
And snow begins to fall,
All the enemies of our town will leave once more.

Until next year,

Around the same time,
They'll crawl back with one thing on their mind,
To challenge our sherrif
On a dry hot summers day,
In that old-fashioned,
western,
gunslingers way.

Broken Man

So I've decided to not post up any sketches here for the mo. I've just joined the Sketchbook Project(click on the link, it is good to do so). So I want to concentrate on that before I start posting drawings up here. Also I've changed the new poetry days to Monday and Thursday. The reason for suc a gap is so that peeps can digest it or something. Oh who am I kidding, it's to give me a break. Seriously though I want this blog to run for a while so I cant post up poems more frequently than that. I'm still struggling to figure out what poetry I want on the site, today's one is a bit darker with a little hope sprinkled in.

Broken Man

Broken man builds a glass house,
Broken man hears rumours of love,
Broken man with an open heart.

Broken man has a hope,
Cut from paper thin love,
Broken man feels the sting.

Broken man puts on his happy mask,
No ones fooled, they just pretend,
Broken man sees a happy mask on all of them.

Broken man fears only one thing,
Words built from nothing,
Broken man with a broken spirit.

Broken Man is very brave,
Broken Man looks at the stars,
Standing on his own grave,
Broken Man’s hope stretches far.

Broken Man with nothing more to give,
Broken Man needs to be on his knees,
Standing on a promise to live,
Broken Man gives love for free.

Broken Man in an alien land,
Broken Man doesn’t accept defeat,
Standing on a new design,
Broken Man needs to be complete.

Broken Man is unafraid of death,
Broken Man is burning inside,
Standing with nothing left,
Broken Man knows no place like home.