poems poems poems poems poems poems poems

These are poems I wrote in English, and yes, if this is not an indicator to my evil/sad side, I have no idea what is. Not to be gloomy or anything, its just the type of writing i almost force myself to write, although subconsciously. Anyway...lol


How it Ends

Months had widened in the summer,
My fingers drummed on the window
The muscles bulging,
The street was in turmoil,
People ran all about,
My fingers still drumming,
Touching the window over and over,
Squinting at the desk,
Illegal was on the pages,
The roof leaked, and water was pounding the ground.
Maybe for some purpose,
But I know of none.
My gaze was fixed now on the roof,
Splash, splash, splash,
The rain came down,
And in the street, it was quiet, but I heard the dimpling sound
I squinted as the light grew brighter.
All was over.


Living Art



Two hands, too graceful for one body,
Two pencils, sharp yet dull and disappearing,
Creating oneself, and each other indifferently.
These hands, a plague upon themselves,
For they, bound to create a common enemy,
And lose their mutual freedom,
Their given right
Destined, guardians of the slave master soon,
They carve, the arms they need to see,
Construct, the body, powering them now,
Shaping, legs to carry them any direction do they follow,
Continue to work, a chest soon born,
Chisel the intelligence, they feel to be,
Produce the character, to govern the body,
How they fly in direction of self deprecation,
On the eve, of completion they part,
Two minds one body, coexist can they not,
Lost in the assimilation,
Lost they are.

Chosen
Collected, still, my breath held,
I touched the page, fury pinned in my grip,
Alone, I felt from her.
My gaze, held defiantly,
loss was what i collected,
her shoulders still by the violence,
the mashed key left marks on the cross,
I gasped, my breath labored,
she hadn't been civilized,
Her fury had violently ripped the page,
our page...
She had chosen.
I spoke reassuring her,
passenger to her voice,
passenger to her choice.
I was alone.
Pulsing and breathing, her shoulders shook,
left with choice was i not,
I was left with loss,
loss staring back at me.
i was left with her.