English poetry

As the morning light bleeds into the peaceful darkness of my room I can’t help but think, it’s been quite a while since the thought of you has crept my mind. Didn’t I always want this? Didn’t I wanted to ease myself of the pain of your remembrance? Why do I then feel this wave of gloom washing over me as you slowly become a fading memory that once was? Is this what healing feels like?  Love came and it shattered my heart to bits and it never returned. I have never felt love after you it’s almost as if you took my ability to feel love along with you. I have learnt to pretend, quite a skill to have. It helps me survive the torturous cruel life or whatever is left of it. My eyes ache for a sight of you while my heart tells me it can’t take it once more. No. At times I want to be left alone in the peaceful hum of the night while I stare into the abyss recollecting the memories of you smiling at my corny jokes. “This shall pass soon” I hear you say while you read the tales of my heart w...

 It's been quite a while since I wrote something. This is not some poetry or any artistic bullshit its just my rants so, read it if you like. I have lost some part of me that was so dear to me, the dark side of me that would constantly look into the void and see it staring back. The nothingness and void has been filled, or at least that's how i feel. Even though it is replaced by "something" i am not sure if it is all color but hey at least it is something, right? At least i feel fulfilled finally after so so long. The black is replaced by something grey and that's something to be joyful about i guess. Shit has been alright lately, things are not the worst. Nothing is as planned (if only i had a plan lol) but it's alright can't complain. Sometimes here and there i catch myself zone out for a sec either looking at the moon or towards a constellation, but i haven't had those episodes of endlessly staring at the ceiling lying on the bed. I've been hav...

What a tragedy it is Love, a sacred curse     A spell on the heart Drives a person mad Like a figurine on strings It dwells the lover into madness A madness of cravings Cravings for more  More of the beloved Their sight and odor Like an addict craving For the needle to pierce a vein I crave for you always To destroy me my love All over again and again Their touch and attention The warmth of their embrace Comfort of their company Slow yet steadily now Love feeds on it all Love happens but once A feeling that can’t replicate No matter what they offer Can’t outweigh what was The heavy load of love 

Dear love What are you? The more I think I understand you, the more you surprise me with a face I have never seen before. Are you the wave of sadness that takes over a child when he loses his favorite toy, or are you the tears of the mother who aches for the sight of her dead son? Are you the silence of the father who hugs his son to war or the cries of the 30-year-old woman who just lost her husband to cancer? Perhaps you are the late-night thoughts of a teenage boy who dreams of being noticed by this one fellow human or the diffidence of a girl to face this one boy at school who she thinks is the smartest guy in the universe. You might even be the desire of the young student who bunks his school to play cricket or the torment of his teacher who tells him not to. Sometimes, it all feels like an illusion, something that we hold on to just because of our instinctive need to be with someone, but then my heart pounds against my chest, almost breaking my ribs, reminding me of a peace it h...

I remember that first night we stayed up past 3 am and all we did is talk i remember  thinking that i could listen to you talk forever and how i've never felt that way about anyone before i remember  that night  at 3 am that was the momemt  i fell in love

 Will You (Continued...) We laughed again and talked a lot I thought we made a difference We promised for shared future shots Over the cries of vengeance We promised to see the world along We promised to get drunk at our bar We promised not to let one alone We promised to stay same despite how far Then the day of 15th july The day of grief and darkness I tried to stay all polite Failing to conquer the void or part I wanted to tell you everything A story that would bring you pain I cannot tell you no matter what The trust in your own will fade You always deserve to be happy Maybe i was an unknown thorn Am glad you threw one thron away Yet the thorn loves you in a way his own You told me to keep a diary I did and started writing The words were hard to swallow Every syllable a tale of fighting I hoped the day after that To get killed or die ASAP Although broke a bone or two You never asked… ugh! My bad I do have reasons to hate me A cut for every look in the mirror A river of tears be...

   Will You? I latched on to a broken twig To hold myself from falling      When i was pushed by a lovely fig Dreams with whom compelling                                                                                      I knew it from the first day though No matter what am not her type Not caring the heart starts jumping slow Regardless of the brains hype We met someday, a heavenly place She recognized, i felt am high I asked bout her life n friends She roasted everyone on sight The apocalypse passed in silence We never met nor shared a word Your thoughts flew without licence Like some pretty little bird Then day thee came, Finally We met again me overjoyed I spent the day looking at you From a blindspot of y...

"Deities" Our God is greater than your one my religion is right your's is just a fiction Look! they are fighting disclaiming that you hate wars homicides think killing is what makes way to seventh heaven Hands filled with gore; they shout "we are the entrepreneurs of heaven" Orisons are meaningless if your prayer contain curse for others I wish we were told to be kind instead of religious I wish we were taught to follow humanity, not a religion I wish we were directed to fetch food to hungry bellies rather than taking fasts I wish we were ordered not to break hearts instead of restricting shrine shatters Perhaps, no deity told us to do what we are doing now praying for heaven making others life worse than hell Writer: UNKNOWN

                      The Secret Heart Across the years he could recall His father one way best of all. In the stillest hour of the night The boy awakened to a light. Half in dreams, he saw his sire With his great hands full of fire. The man has struck a match to see If his son slept peacefully. But when he touched the sleepyhead His match fire left his finger red

Nocturne  Tell me all things false are true, Bitter sweet, that false are wise; I will not doubt nor question you;                                I am in a mood for lies. Tell me all things ill turn good;                    Thew and sinew will be stronger Thriving on the deadly food Life proffers for their hunger. Paint love lovely, if you will; Be crafty, sly, deceptive; Here is fertile land to till, Sun seeking, rain receptive. Hold my hand and lie to me; I will not ask you How nor Why; I see death drawing nigh to me Out of the corner of my eye. BY : Countee Cullen

Four Elms  Whoever it was that planted them A hundred years ago, Spread roots apart and tamped in earth Would now be great to know Another man, tree-comforted, Waits for their leaves to grow. So cloase they are to the house wall                    He could have had no fear That worn with winter and the weight Of every growing year They might break roof and window down Before his sleep could hear. Yet if they should destroy the house It would not be so wrong: Three generations now had heard Branch lifting and bird song. we take a chance on anything We want to keep for long. By : Paul Engle

Losers If I should pass the tomb of Jonah I would stop their and sit awhile; Because I was swallowed one time deep in the dark And came out alive after all. If I pass the birial spot of nero I shall say to the wind, "Well, well!"_ I would have fiddled in a world of fire, I who have done so many stunts not worth the doing. I am looking for the grave of Sinbad too. I want to shake his ghost-hand and say, "Neither of us died very early, did we?" And the last sleeping-place of Nebuchadnezzar When I arrive there I shall tell the wind: "You ate grass; I have eaten crow Who is better off now or next year?" Jack Cade, John Brown, Jesse James, There too I will stop and sit down for awhile. I think I could tell their headstones: "God, let me remember all good losers." I could ask people to throw ashes on their heads In the name of that sergeant at Belleau Woods, Walking into the drumfires, calling...

O What Is That Sound? O what is that sound that so thrills the ear   Down in the valley drumming, drumming? Only the scarlet soldiers, dear,   The soldiers coming. O what is that light I see flashing so clear   Over the distance brightly, brightly? Only the sun on their wepons, dear,   As they step lightly. O what are they doing with all that gear,                                What are they doing this morning, this morning? Only their usual manoeuvres, dear,   As they step lightly. O why have they left the road down there,   Why are they suddenly wheeling, wheeling? Perhaps a change in their orders, dear.   Why are you kneeling? O haven't they stopped for the doctor's care,   Haven't they reined their horses, their horses? Why, They are none of them wounded, dear,   None of these forces. O is it the parson...

The Fox And the Grapes One sunner's day a fox was passing through An orchard; faint he was and hungry, too. When suddenly his keen eye chanced to fall Upon a bunch of grapes above the wall. "Ha! Just the thing!" he said. "Who could resist it!" He eyed the purple cluster - jumped - and missed it. "Ahem!" he coughed. "I'll take more careful aim," And sprang again. Results were much more the same, Although his leaps were desperate and high. At length he paused to wipe a tearful eye, And shrug a shoulder. "I am not so dry, And lunch is bound to come within the hour ... Besides," he said, "I am sure those grapes are sour." THE MORAL IS: We somehow want the peach That always dangles just beyond our reach;                   Until we learn never to be upset With what we find too difficult to get. By:    Joseph Lauren

          Fable of the mountain and the squirrel  The mountain and the squirrel Had a quarrel, And the former called the latter "little prig"; Bun replied,  "You are doubtless very big;                            But all sorts of things and weather Must be taken in togather, To make up a year And a sphere. And I think it no disgrace To occupy my place. If I am not so large as you, You are not so small as I And no half so spry. I will not deny you make A very pretty squirrel track; Talents differ; all is well and wisely put; If i cannot carry forests on my back, Neither can you crack a nut" By ___ Ralph Waldo Emerson

Bonnie George Campbell High upon highlands,   And low upon Tay, Bonnie George Campbell   Rode out on a day; Saddled and bridled,   And gallant to see: Home came his good horse,   But home came not he. Out ran his old mother,   Wild with despair;                                                     Out ran his bonnie bride,   Tearing her hair. He rode saddled and bridled,   With boot to the knee Home came his good horse,   But never came he. "My meadow lies green,    And his corn is unshron, My barn is unbuilt,    And my babe is unborn." He rode saddled and bridled,    Careless and free: Safe home came the saddle,    But never came he. The writer of this poem is unknown...

Crystal Moment   Once or twice this side of death Things can make one hold his breath. From my boyhood I remember A crystal moment of september. A wooded island rang with sounds Of church bells in the throats of hounds. A buck leaped out and took the tide With jewels flowing past each side. With his high head like a tree He swam with in a yard of me. I saw the Forest's holiness On him like a fierce caress.                                   Fear made him lovely past belief, My heart was trembling like a leaf. He leaned towards the land and life With need upon him like a knife. In his wake the hot hounds churned, They streached their muzzles out and yearned. They bayed no more, but swam and throbbed, Hunger drove them since they sobbed. Pursued, pursuers reached the shore And vanished. I saw nothing more. So they passed, a p...

The spider With six small diamonds for his eyes He walks upon the summer skies, Drawing from his silken blousee The lasework of his dwelling house. He lays his staircase as he goes Under his eight thougtful toes And grows with the contransic flower Of his shadowless, thin bower.                        His back legs are a pair of hands, They can spindleout the strands Of a thread that is so small It stops the sunlight, not at all. He spins himself to threads of dew Which will harden soon into Lines that cut like slender knives Across the insects' airy lives. He makes no motion but is right, He spreads out his appetite Into a network, twist on twist, This little ancient scientist. He does not know he is unkind, He has a jewel for a mind And logic deadly as dry bone, This small sun of Euclid's own. By: ___ Robert P. Tristram Coffin

Concord Hymn By the rude bridge that Arched the flood,    Their flag to aprail's breeze unfurled, Here once the embattled farmers stood    And fired the shot heard around the world. The foe long since in scilence selpt;    Alike the conqueror silent sleeps; And Time the ruined bridge has swept    Down the dark stream which seaward creeps.    On this green bank, by this soft stream,    We set to-day a votive stone; That memory may their deed redeem,    When, like our sires, our sons are gone. Spirit, that made that heroes dare    To die, and leave their children free, Bid time and Nature gently spare    The shaft we raise to them and thee. By _____________ Ralph Waldo Emerson

I'm Nobody! Who Are You? I'm Nobody! Who Are You? Are you nobody, too? Then there's a pair of us_don't tell! They would banish us, you know.               How dreary to be somebody! How public like a frog. To tell your name the livelong day To an admiring bog! By__________Emily Dickinson