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Poets of the Night

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New Member, please vote for me! [Mar. 18th, 2007|06:42 pm]
Poets of the Night

poetsofthenight

[starbuck1980]
[Current Mood |okayokay]
[Current Music |Helena - My Chemical Romance]

In The Arms Of Jesus

Life screwed us over
It taught us,
The wrong way to live
The wrong way to love
Teaching us that wrongs are right

Who was it that made me this way?
I know...
But I fear I can not change
What is taught so young, is now a way of life
And this so called life of mine
Sufferers because of them

I doubt
I cry
I scream
I mistrust those who love me
Causing problems where it should be easy
So really, was my life so screwed from the age of seven?

Beaten
Battered
Lied
And broken
I can’t let them win
But how do I stop them
If it is not them I should blame
Then it is myself, for letting them win, for screwing me over.

It is me who pushed you away
Not them
They showed me how, gave me the tools
It is me who doubted, every one of you
Not them
But they showed me doubt, made me doubt
Taught me so very well...

I’ve hidden
I’ve tried
But nothing works
Change?
Change me?
From the demons, who eat me alive.

Who come at night, when all is quiet
And then all I hear is the screaming
So much screaming
Who is it that screams?
It is that seven year old?
Who’s waiting in terror, for the lights to go out.

I’m sorry, I tried
Tried for you all
Tried to be better
Tried to be strong
Tried to be re-taught
But patience wears thin
And lines are crossed
And words are spoken, that can’t be undone
There’s only so much you can take
And I can’t ask you to wait.

And now I’m alone
With the demons for company
My angel of mercy, no where in sight
And the scared seven year old
Screaming inside me
When will it stop?
When will it end?

When I am gone, in Jesus’ arms
Don’t cry for me
Don’t be sad for me
Don’t pity me
For I will rejoice
Because the pain now stops
And my seven year old self, sleeps at last
In the peace of Heaven...


 © starbuck1980

Sunlight fades
And colour turns to grey
Now this is all I see
Black & white images cloud my mind
The light gone from this, my world
No sunlight to filter through
Only rain pours down against my skin
Soaking me, weighing me down
My clothes cling to me.

The only colour I see
Is the red of my blood
Vibrant in the grey of this, my world
Seeping steadily from this mighty wound
Where your words pierced my heart
No mourning will I bear
As I walk alone in the greyness of this, my world
I will stand strong
I will stand proud
And not let you see me broken.



© starbuck1980Name: Emma aka starbuck1980
Gender/Age:
26
Location: UK
What is Your Favorite Poet?:
I write poetry, I don't tend to read publish poetry, I browse LJ & read poetry that way.
What is Your Favorite Poem, and Why?: Of mine? Or someone elses?
Favorite Style: Love, angst, death, suicide, heart-break, personal experience, life sucking big time!


LinkReply

Comments:
[User Picture]From: incendiary_eve
2007-03-18 09:15 pm (UTC)
To write but not read poetry is almost as peculiar in essence as someone who can write but can't read. There is so much good verse out there, just waiting to be read, that it would take more than one lifetime to read it all up to the date one starts. I'm going to suggest a few authors, I'm not going to force anyone to read them, but hopefully you may enjoy them.

Charles Baudelaire Paris Spleen trans. Varese & Les Fleurs du Mal trans. Howard, Sylvia Plath Ariel [not the revised edition], Ricardo Reis trans. Edward Honig, W. S. Merwin The Lice, Dylan Thomas Death's and Entrances, Pablo Neruda Selected Poems [ed. Nathaniel Tarn], and Arthur Rimbaud "The Drunken Boat" trans. Varese.
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[User Picture]From: starbuck1980
2007-03-18 09:34 pm (UTC)
Well its not that I'm opposed to it, I just prefer to read novels. I have read some Dylan Thomas, Spike Milligan & Tennyson to name a few. One of my favourites, that I have read many times is the Lady of Shallot also by Tennyson. Its just my preference to read novels.

I don't write poetry as a conscious thought, I write when something comes to me but I don't put conscious thought into it. I write, as a form of therapy. Whether is good or not is up to the people who I show it to, to decide.

Thanks for the recommendations, I will take it under advisement.
(Reply) (Parent) (Thread)
[User Picture]From: poxydoo
2007-03-25 08:27 am (UTC)
if i may add to your suggestions, William Butler Yeats is pretty great (i personally prefer his mythical poetry to his political stuff [i love "Fergus and the Druid"]) and Browning's "Porphyria's Lover" is classic, along with Coleridge's "Kubla Khan"
(Reply) (Parent) (Thread)
[User Picture]From: starbuck1980
2007-03-25 10:04 am (UTC)
Am I in? Or are we still debating my poetry ignorance?
(Reply) (Parent) (Thread)