Archive for the ‘Old Creative Writing’ Category

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Contradictions

May 15, 2009

I am saving my poems and other writing from an old Geocities website as they are about to shut down Geocities. I don’t have dates of when I wrote these, but 1995-1998 sounds about right. So please don’t just the immaturity of these to be who I am now.

Dark day, bright night
Swirling colors dancing
Shapes entwining
Emotions bubbling,
ready to burst

White fire, red heart
love above anger
Confusion meeting
felt feelings torn apart

Passion raging
Heart melting
Fear curdling
Anger rising

Questions asked
left unanswered
curiosity piqued
things left unsaid

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You & Me

May 15, 2009

I am saving my poems and other writing from an old Geocities website as they are about to shut down Geocities. I don’t have dates of when I wrote these, but 1995-1998 sounds about right. So please don’t just the immaturity of these to be who I am now.

Colors are flying
every which way
I don’t know what to do
I don’t know what to say

I want to say this
but I end up saying that
I want you to think this
but you always think that

I’m sorry I’m not perfect
I’m sorry I’m not her
But I am me
And you have to accept that

I know you still love her
I know you always will
But that was yesterday
And you can’t change the past

I can’t be her
As much as I’d like to be
Why can’t you see me for who I am
Not who you’d like to see?

I’ve loved and I’ve lost
I know you hurt too
But you have to accept
me as me

Friends before lovers
Lovers it won’t be
So, can we leave it as friends
Just you and me?

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The Walrus and The Carpenter

May 15, 2009

Lewis Carroll
from Through the Looking-Glass

The sun was shining on the sea
Shining with all his might:
He did his very best to make
The billows smooth and bright –
And this was odd because it was
The middle of the night.

The moon was shining sulkily,
Because she thought the sun
Had got no business to be there
After the day was done –
“It’s very rude of him,” she said,
“To come and spoil the fun.”

The sea was wet as wet could be,
The sands were dry as dry.
You could not see a cloud, because
No cloud was in the sky:
No birds were flying overhead –
There were no birds to fly.

The Walrus and the Carpenter
Were walking close at hand:
They wept like anything to see
Such a quantity of san:
“If this were only cleared away,”
They said, “It would be grand!”

“If seven maids with seven mops
Swept for half a year,
Do you suppose, “the Walrus said,
“That they could get it clear?”
“I doubt it,” said the Carpenter,
And shed a bitter tear.

“O Oysters, come and walk with us!”
The Walrus did beseech.
“A pleasant walk, a pleasant talk,
Along the briny beach:
We cannot do with more than four,
To give a hand to each.”

The eldest Oyster looked at him,
But never a word he said:
The eldest Oyster winked his eye,
And shook his heavy head –
Meaning to say he did not choose
To leave the oyster bed.

But four young Oysters hurried up,
All eager for the treat:
The coats were brused, their faces washed,
Their shoes were clean and neat –
And this was odd, because, you know,
They hadn’t any feet!

Four other Oysters followed them,
And yet another four;
And thick and fast they came at last,
And more, and more, and more –
All hopping through the frothy waves,
And scrambling to the shore.

The Walrus and the Carpenter
Walked on for a mile or so,
And then they rested on a rock
Conveniently low:
And all the littlw Oysters stood
And waited in a row.

“The time has come,” the Walrus said,
“To talk of many things:
Of shoes – and ships – and sealing wax –
Of cabbages – and kings –
And why the sea is boiling hot –
And whether pigs have wings.”

“But wait a bit,” the Oysters cried,
“Before we have our chat;
For some of us are out of breath,
And all of us are fat!”
“No hurry!” said the Carpenter.
They thanked him much for that.

“A loaf of bread,” the Walrus said,
“Is what we chiefly need:
Pepper and vinegar besides
Are very good indeed –
“Now, if you’re ready Oysters dear,
We can begin to feed.”

“But not on us!” the Oysters cried,
Turning a little blue.
“After such kindness, that would be
A dismal thing to do!”
“The night is fine,” the Walrus said.
“Do you admire the view?”

“It was kind of you to come!
And you are very nice!”
The Carpenter said nothing but
“Cut us another slice.
I wish you were not quite so deaf –
I’ve had to ask you twice!”

“It seems a shame,” the Walrus said,
“To play them such a trick,
After we brought them out so far,
And made them trot so quick!”
The Carpenter said nothing but
“The butter’s spread too thick!”

“I weep for you,” the Walrus said:
I deeply sympathize.”
With sobs and tears he sorted out
Those of the largest size,
Holding his pocket handkerchief
Before his streaming eyes.

“O Oysters,” said the Carpenter,
“You’ve had a pleasant run!
Shall we be trotting home again?”
But answer came there none –
And this was scarcely odd, because
They’d eaten every one.

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True To Yourself

May 15, 2009

I am saving my poems and other writing from an old Geocities website as they are about to shut down Geocities. I don’t have dates of when I wrote these, but 1995-1998 sounds about right. So please don’t just the immaturity of these to be who I am now.

The hidden faith
inside of you
my boy
can make me cry

The tears would flow
but they’re frozen
Not enough time in my life
to waste them on you

Oh, yeah, it hurts
and there’s anger too
But the emotion on top
is hatred

Truth is something
deep inside
If you don’t trust
you’re lying to yourself

It hurts to be told
I’m a liar
But more than that
I hate you for it

I try so hard to
be loved and wanted
Truth and honesty
are vital keys

If you can’t promise either
you’ve damned yourself
I’ll carry this hatred
till the day I die

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Trapped Heart

May 15, 2009

I am saving my poems and other writing from an old Geocities website as they are about to shut down Geocities. I don’t have dates of when I wrote these, but 1995-1998 sounds about right. So please don’t just the immaturity of these to be who I am now.

A heart has been broken
It’ll never love again
It’s out of reach now
And to no one this heart they’ll gain

It belongs to one
A person with rare intelligence
Yet, is trapped in the soul
Of he who be dense

He who is loved
Without loving back
Will not know the joy
Of a child’s love track
He knows the heart’s trapped
Yet, he can’t find it in his heart
To release the unwavering cry
For the love of Cupid’s Dart

The love will live without end
Until the unresponsive loving
Is released and unhindered
To love without thinking

First poem I ever wrote, at age 14. Sadly, I still remember exactly who it was written about (G.H., my girlfriend’s older brother)

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Thank You

May 15, 2009

I am saving my poems and other writing from an old Geocities website as they are about to shut down Geocities. I don’t have dates of when I wrote these, but 1995-1998 sounds about right. So please don’t just the immaturity of these to be who I am now.

My heart pounds when you walk through that door
You look right through me and the tears start to pour

I’ve had enough of these lies, enough of the games
You’ll never be a true man in my eyes

I’ve had enough runs around the Mulberry Bush
To know that I’ll never get my wish

But that’s OK, that’s fine by me
The realization has set me free

The confusion and anguish your teasing caused
Sits at the back of my mind, forever on pause

The day has come when I can look at you and say
Today is the last day you’ll get in my way

I lived in a fantasy world, saw you in my dreams
I hoped one day they’d come true

But the “what ifs” loomed, the “if onlys” rose
An obstacle larger than life itself

With absolutely no way around, other than to push
For a decision that should never have to be made

I rose to the challenge, but I fall away defeated
I’m not hurt or ashamed, I didn’t fail

Someone once said “to err is humam”
I’ve learned from my mistakes

I walk away with pridem a better person for it all
The guilt and fear, jealousy and hate are gone

Life leads you down the path, you choose this branch or that
The outcome is something you have to live with

You can’t go back, can’t rewind
And make the decision again

I’ve learned this and it allows me to leave you behind
No regrets or anguish over lost opportunities
That may have led to pain and anger anywy

Regardless of the results
I’m glad I made the choices I did

The lost chances have left me with
A newfound respect for myself

Nothing in my life, especially no man
Will ever take that away, not you, not anyone

If the only thing I can do is thank you, I must

I am grateful for all you have led me through
The struggles and confusion, the pleasure and the pain

Thank you for another chance to step up to bat
To step up to the new challenges laid before me

I can make those choices with strength and courage
With wisdom and now, and forever with self-conviction and belief

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Stars & Love

May 15, 2009

I am saving my poems and other writing from an old Geocities website as they are about to shut down Geocities. I don’t have dates of when I wrote these, but 1995-1998 sounds about right. So please don’t just the immaturity of these to be who I am now.

You see the similarity
Of star’s and love’s ability?

See the bright stars high above
Mimicking our lasting love

They shine radiant day and night
And our love feels oh, so right

When they’re near, all troubles perish
Contrary to your love I cherish

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Someone

May 15, 2009

I am saving my poems and other writing from an old Geocities website as they are about to shut down Geocities. I don’t have dates of when I wrote these, but 1995-1998 sounds about right. So please don’t just the immaturity of these to be who I am now.

One day love will surround me
It may take a day, or it may take a lifetime
Until then, all I can do is wait
Oh, I can dream, I can fantasize
I can hope and I can pray
That one day it will come true

Love is an image shimmering in my heart
Everywhere I turn, I see love all around
Couples getting married, children being born
I long for the feelings I once thought were there
Until I awoke from my dreams
And saw the mirage for what it really was

I long for the passion in my life
That you only see in movies
Gazing at my lover with eternal love in my eyes
Conveying every wish and dream,
Knowing he’ll make them come true
I long for someone who truly knows me better than I know myself
Someone who honestly says, “I love you” with truth and sincerity
Someone to treasure me for the prize that I am
Someone who respects me as their superior, their equal and their friend
Someone who doesn’t play games and doesn’t play me for a fool
Someone who can kiss me with the tenderness a mother shows her newborn
Someone who can set my world on fire just by looking at me
with that special look in their eyes
Someone who can touch me with the softest fingertips
And leave me wondering if the truly touched me at all

I long for someone in my life who listens to what I say
Someone who can hug me, and say it’s all ok
Everywhere I turn I see possibilities
Nothing matters to me except who that person is
It’s a form of saying I’m not racist
We’re all people; we all love the same
Just because you’re tall doesn’t mean you’ll love me more
than the shortest man at my side

I’ll take love any way I can get it
But I only want your love if you give it selflessly and unconditionally
Honest and true
I promise to love you back,
As unrelentlessly as the most unintentional blink that comes every few seconds

I feel sorry for those who had their chance
I gave them a shot
Maybe they didn’t want it as much as I did

I’m scared to love someone now
There’s always the fear of having them turn their back on me
Or thinking I’m not good enough

Well, let me tell you, you ignorant pigs!
I’m just as good as the next one
I’m good enough for any prince or king, or any common man like you
I love the same as the next girl, probably more passionately and truly
And I’ll always be there for you
But maybe that thought scares you
The thought of having someone there, always by your side
It’s called commitment, baby!
Get used to it.
Someone will always be there for you
It’s up to you whether it’s your own mother or someone like me
Someone who will love you like there is no tomorrow
Someone who expects nothing in return but living and loving

So the choice is up to you.
C’mon! I don’t have my whole life
To wait for a man who is more indecisive than a woman is
I can find love anywhere
It may not be perfect
But it will be love
And in the end, that’s all I want

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Raindrops

May 15, 2009

I am saving my poems and other writing from an old Geocities website as they are about to shut down Geocities. I don’t have dates of when I wrote these, but 1995-1998 sounds about right. So please don’t just the immaturity of these to be who I am now.

Thunder rolls, warning of…
of what?
Raindrops pouring down
like my tears?
Puddle pooling at my feet
Drop to my knees
Lament to the rain
of past wrongs

Life is different
never the same
One wrong decision
must face the shame
Life’s perverted plesures
of uncertainty
Forever causing distress
and confusion.

unfinished

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Paintbrush

May 15, 2009

Bettie B. Youngs

I keep my paintbrush with me
Wherever I may go,
In case I need to cover up
So the real me doesn’t show.
I’m so afraid to show you me,
Afraid of what you’ll do-that
You might laugh or say mean things.
I’m afraid I might lose you.

I’d like to remove all my paint coats
To show you the real, true me,
But I want you to try and understand,
I need you to accept what you see.
So if you’ll be patient and close your eyes,
I’ll strip off all my coats real slow.
Please understand how much it hurts
To let the real me show.

Now my coats are all stripped off.
I feel naked, bare and cold,
And if you still love me with all that you see,
You are my friend pure as gold.
I need to save my paintbrush, though,
And hold it in my hand,
I want to keep it handy
In case somebody doesn’t understand.
So please protect me, my dear friend
And thanks for loving me true,
But please let me keep my paintbrush with me
Until I love me, too.
I am saving poems and other writing from an old Geocities website as they are about to shut down Geocities. I don’t have dates of when I wrote these, but 1995-1998 sounds about right. So please don’t just the immaturity of these to be who I am now. A few, like this one, are someone else’s poems but meant something to me at the time.