Poetry Readings III

[jane]

a more creative title for this thread i was too tired to come up with.

i haven't written anything in months. its been too hard. not that i was emotionally dry, but i just found that it hurt too much to express myself. today i wrote two poems.

Forever Fruit

The darkness covered us
The light from the hall
Distant and fading over your eyes
The light lines you traced on my shoulder
Shocked me with passion
The heat of your palms
Warmed my freezing hands
While the scent of your breath
Floated in the air between us
I breathed it in, sweet and citrus
Sweet (there’s a flower in your hand)
And
Citrus (taste this love)
And
Quiet (silence never held so many words)
And
Smooth (the feel of skin on skin)


Requiem:
or Death of a Faith

I’ve got that image of you
Sitting at the table
A glass bottle before you
Wishing you were anywhere but there
Burned into my retinas
I was wishing you were anywhere but there
These are things I never wanted to know
I never wanted to see happen
These mental scars you left behind
Conflict with memories
Of the person I once knew
The one that isn’t you
Still
When I see you walking away from me
I find it hard to turn my back
But there’s nothing left to say
And all that’s left is the awkwardness
That grows like cancer
Spreading between us
Lines that won’t be crossed
And hearts that won’t be healed.

[surprisingwoman]

Jane, those are lovely poems. You have a true gift of expression. I hope that you are able to find peace. Time doesn't heal all wounds, but it does make them smaller.

You are extremely talented.

[jane]

Fallen

Angels
With strong hands and stronger hearts
Hide behind
Your delusions
My protests and pleas
Drowned out
By your self-love
Fear flows freely in my veins
A poor substitute
For thriving blood
Leaving me shaking and cold
Tell me again
There’s no one who can help me
Except me
Angels
Pull the hair out of your eyes
The shadows from your heart
Did you think I’d forget your faces?
We are strangers without secrets
And you’ve clipped your own wings





Breaking The Speed Limit

Hey boy
Haven’t you been paying attention?
The bass pounds
To the rhythm of my heartbeat
While salty rivers run down my cheeks
A waterfall over my jaw
Your voice carries over the bass
Driving faster than the sounds of the highway
Stop

Hey boy
Where’s your mind these days?
Is it in the hot air
Escaping your lips
The apathy of your actions
Or the carelessness you carry
In the pockets of your borrowed coat
Living the indestructible life

Hey boy
Haven’t talked to you lately
Can you hear the quiet words
That rise in whispers from my cavernous lungs?
It’s so hard to breathe
No one’s ever cut my words
From my tongue
With such bittersweet violence

Hey boy
I know what you’re saying
Why don’t I cry about it a little more,
Right?

[Dragonheart]

****WARNING*****

May upset some people but this is me at this time as I have been diagnosed with multiple personality disorder, if you feel offended PLEASE DO NOT READ!!!

This poem was written on the run, it may make no sense but here goes...

Fighting within myself

There is a war going one
Its not in the middle east
or of the Australian coast
there is fighting going on
not many know where it is
its inside my head
where all the splits meet

Amanda the aristocrat
prim and proper
an angel and a devil
can be nice
can be nasty
I wish she would walk away

Bob the silent one
A pimp
instructing others to see
his clientale
making money illegally

Kelly a street savvy prostitute
Bob's little angel
he protects her
gives her drugs
gives her his bed
loves her until it hurts
she screams in pain

little cindy
my inner child
she has been hurt
bawls in the corner
no-body loves her
she is all alone
crying, dirty, smelly
tatty old clothes
looks like a street kid
hungry to be loved
sick of be bullied
she wants to be nurtured
be allowed to grow

This emotional mess
Is slowly fading away
Amanda is fighting with Kelly
Bob sits back
laughsat the spectacle
that is happening in front of him
they both fall down the stairs
both dying from their injuries
the final nail has been placed in the coffin
their pain has come to an end