Humble Pie..... a la mode

[annaswirls]

Okay here is the idea, I am sure it has been done before, but maybe you could humor me....in the spirit of welcoming new poets...


Go back into your diaries
your printouts from your VIC-20
the borders of your binders...
Ink scratched on rolling papers, I dont know


find a poem you wrote when you were young (okay youngER)
something completely awful

let's all share some pie....

Anyone want to come out and play?




btw- If you were one of those child prodigys, keep it to your damn self.

lol just kidding, please post good ones too, but something that shows the braces,
perhaps a squeek in a changing voice...
pathetically love sick college days,
hmm what did those certain lovelies on this board
write about before they grew such hmmmm "avatar worthy" breasts.....



Anna didn't always Swirl
Mostly, she just Sucked....

 

[annaswirls]

As a sad sad heartbroken college freshman...boo hoo hoo
I have to get the old flowered journals from under my bed to get stuff that really really Really sucks...


cajun


it rained this morning
all day
i didnt notice
my phone didnt ring
while it rained
and i noticed


i felt you steal my body
i felt you
possess my mind
when did you take my heart?
i didnt notice


Wahhwaahhhh

 

[Icingsugar]

This will take a while. The worst ones are in Swedish. I'll have to translate first...

Here's one from high school English class:

upon a worn down table
an empty bottle stood
some writing on a napkin -
     Believe it or not,
     I feel good!

 

[Maria2394]

wow Anna, what a great idea...I immedietly went ta lookin' and am shocked..found some weird stuff..like this, havent seen it in about 25 years or so.. wi as 14 when I wrote this and I dont thinks its a poem, but it has a grade on it but mostly i have short stories




******
when in the course of human events, it becomes necessary to, to to, respect oneself, and repeat and repeat and live each day only to die, a man must choose between freedom and bondage, but not by choice must he die, nor how, but he knows that when,
in the course of human events it becomes necessary to kill or be killed, man learns to fight...
Come in here dear boy, have you heard the news? The world has ended, an eon ago and thou doth not exist, exceppt for a mere memory retrieved by the vacuum of the universe, and we shall all be regurgitaed from the epitome of the universe at one time or another, and when the phenomenon of civilization does occur, there will be no life that is new...
nor any form of knowledge that has not already been gained...now my boy tell me, what did you think of the MIami Dolphins last week?

 

[WickedEve]

There's a book on my shelf, lovely unicorn on the front of it. Don't all teen girls like unicorns? Anyway, this poetry is from the early 80s.

A Place In My Mind

excerpt:
"A place where unicorns romp
merrily in fields of gold.
A place where ancient mazes
continue to lure then
capture man forever so unaware."

blah, blah, blah mermaids
castles, doves, rainbows
and about 4 pages of this.

----------

"The time before is a shadow
A shadow is behind
The past is behind
Past time is a shadow
Leave your shadows behind
Leave the past in the shadow of time"

hmmm...

---------

Poet's Pen

(why is my handwriting so f***ing fabulous? I write like a chicken now)

"The pen cries a verse across
a lonely page,
With no comfort to write
for one solitude line.
One lone verse waiting for
many an age,
Longing deep for its eternal
rhyme.
The pen weeps..."

This goes on until:

"The pen must now die,
The ink well is dry."

-----------

There's a poem about Love's Tragedy. It has the words bleeding and heart side by side.

---------

Another Love has shattering and crushing.

---------

Ah, here's some death! 1982 -- a year before I graduated H.S.

Death Persistent

"Fade away - presense lingers;
Still feel the icy fingers.
Death suffocating in the air.
Reaching hands clawingly tare;
Grasping at life,
So full of strife.
The dead gone, yet a feeling,
Another soul somewhere stealing.
Death summons, not one deny;
Tis time to die."

The death continues down to ancient Circe and then there is more death.

----------

Let's see... black dreary night, creeping and blackness... more death.

---------

An Everlasting Friend starts with "You should be gay, instead you weep."

----------

The Lonely Rome (it's suppose to be room)

"Into a room of loneliness,
I went and locked myself away."

and so on...
I guess I wrote sad poetry in that room. Jeez, this one is from '79

Hey! I was a happy teen!

Now I need to find the little notebook from my preteen years. It has Jesus poems!

 

[Maria2394]

Eve!! OMG!!
I cant believe the stuff you wrote all that death...hehe, all my shiot is about death, serial killers and world war 2....and I thought is was just me and was too embarrassed to post one of those...

however, your poets pen shows the budding young poet in your soul

with a slightly morbid side

 

[WickedEve]

Yeah, the death is a bit disturbing. But not as sick as all the unicorn and mermaid crap.

 

[annaswirls]

I love it!! Maria and Eve!

Will you sign my yearbook?
You all were born poetesses I supposesses
Thanks for sharing! Fun!

Icing, we will wait for the translation, that one was not bad enough. Ha!


here is one I have memorized from my sophmore yr in HS because it just cracks me up. Can you believe I used to try to rhyme???? me in black, sex pistols, pretending



the smoke blurs my eyes
but clears my head
I once was suicidal
Now just wish I were dead



lol



From 7th grade

I think quietly in the night
is it me or the world that's right?
Life will follow a pattern it seems
But I will try to follow my dreams
Until I find them.



(See rebelled against form even then, a little bit... dang lol)




Never with the unicorns though
unless to maybe have them pushed off a cliff
dying and dying and dying
or eaten by a wolf......

 

[The_Fool]

Absolute Shit

Yeah, most of it is shit.

* * * * * *

Day to day worries and
Everyday moods of
depression and frustration cause
blindness of the soul
to the happiness of life and
the joys of just living

Misery of monotony
keep us from quiet thoughts of living


The easy way is the wrong way
when the easy way is not thinking and
not living to the fullest that
a person can.

blah blah blah

* * * * * *

SCENES OF FALL AND WINTER TO BE

WIth foggy breath
and red tinged cheeks
bundles of wool
and fur
rush to meet
their destiny
ignoring the scenes
of life
along the way

Leaves burn
and blow away
as ashes
leaving behind
the starkness
and darkness
soon to be

Moonbeams play
in the frosted night
until both
melt away
in the morning
light

Cold winds moan
and groan
and batter themselves
against windowpanes
bringing to all
they touch
the coldness
and loneliness
of death


* * * * * *

A barren patch of ground
is wasted space and worthless
Like a friendless life.

* * * * * *

I must have been talking about "What is Poetry?" for this one...

Who am I to say what is right and what is wrong
It is as to say what is too short or too long
It is a matter of perspective
of which one must be selective
But remember the choice you make
May not be what another will take
Life is not just black and white
Colors look different in a different light

* * * * * *

Okay Ange, don't go freaking out on me...


Thoughts of Summer

The sound of waves pounds gently on my ears.
The warmth of sunlight beats upon my face.
The ocean waters wash away my fears
when waves around my ankles quickly race.
The rhythm of the waves that makes me sleep
Awakes me in the ebony of night.
I build a fire in which I look so deep.
The peace I feel is great, the sorrow slight.
As warmth of summer permeates the air,
The cold of winter readily abates.
Into the depths of space I often stare
And think of what at winter's end awaits.
As darkness deep of winter closes in.
The thoughts of summer take us where we've been.

* * * * * *

A rose
cut from the stem
leads a very short life
But in its brief moment
it lends a beauty
to the world
unlike any other

And even after
the bloom wilts
the scent lingers
a reminder
of its unmatched
perfection

* * * * * *

I may never post in here again....

Fool

 

[Rybka]

Let Me See. . .

I must Have been all of about fifteen. . .

(dissolve to faded teenage angst)


Oh forever Eleanor
One scarlet kiss and then I swore
Eternal love for evermore
. . .

The rest I have oh so mercifully repressed.

(I'm gonna. . .
Smother that girl in chocolate syrup
And strap her on again
She’s my teen-age baby
And she turns me on
I’d like to make her do a nasty
On the white house lawn
Gonna smother that girl in chocolate syrup
And boogie ’til the cows come home
. . . only 14 and she knew how to nasty. . . )

 

[Cordelia]

I can't believe I'm doing this...

Here's one I wrote while I was studying mathematics in graduate school. I wrote a lot as a pre-teen, but didn't go back to writing poetry until my early 20s, after I'd graduated from college. I was in a class studying crystallography and we were discussing symmetry. I know this is when I decided to start trying forms. This is the palindrome I wrote.

note: this was supposed to be centered. It's not a good enough poem to take the effort to center it here.

perspective

we live
in our dreams
but it is only in reality
we think we go clearly
in the obvious direction
automatically
where are we going?
with no perspective
through time
we just move
but we fail to understand
our thinking
in the order of
meanings
we put the
implication
sideways
with a
foreward
that could be read
backwards
I just wanted to write a poem
backwards
that could be read
forward
with a
sideways
implication
we put the
meanings
in the order of
our thinking
but we fail to understand
we just move
through time
with no perspective
where are we going?
automatically
in the obvious direction
we think we go clearly
but it is only in reality
we write poems
in our dreams
we live


Mona, 1987

~~~~~~~

And this one. It's one of the few I could dig up...

A Letter to Clay After Hanging Up

Dear Clay,

Well, I've waited for over a year now,
and you still haven't given me the break
you promised --
          or have you?

Seafood doesn't taste as good as it used to.
And I still crave pizza on Thursday nights.
I rode the tidal wave again,
          only this time, you were there.
But, of course, it was only a dream.
You have separated us by more than miles.

So I told you the latest gossip,
and the weather goes on forever --
and we sense the subtle differences,
but we let it pass,
and we fade
into shallow conversations
where we both hope
to feel comfortable.

I went to light a rose in your memory,
but the batteries were dead.
Now how am I supposed to explain myself?
Roses grow.
Roses glow.
Roses go.
And pebbles only get smoother with abrasion.

Don't let seriousness overtake your dreams.

Love,
Mona

~~~~~~~

Man... I haven't read this crap in years. Does this mean we're getting old?


Cordelia

 

[Angeline]

Ok. heeeere we go.

Written at age 11:

Ugh. Ugh. Ugh.
Boom. Boom. Boom.
Fight. Fight. Fight.
No more wars.
It's not right. (consistent, aren't I)

 

[Maria2394]

okay anna, I will share my sappy stuff too

Swift Eagle and Fawn Child

His horse gallops on and a tear runs down my cheek,
but a fawn licks away my tears
and I am happy ( groan)

Three moons have past and I am sad again,
but the sun rises as I await my brave
When the fourth moon is gone, I carry a smile-
When morning arrives, his horse returns
his body limp upon that animal's back

I do not weep, it was foretold
Many years ago in tribal legends
It must be accepted as fate, but
I loved my Swift Eagle, brave hunter

To the ceremonial pit I go,
With his sheathed daggar in hand.
I stand beneath his grave and
plunge the dagger into my heart.

I, Fawn Child, now am with Swift Eagle
Where sky and earth meet
and all brave souls abide

( this one was rejected from the student Literary magazine..I wonder why?)

me-age 13 always wanting to be a lil Cherokee

I feel absolutely sick!!! lol

 

[eagleyez]

Ok. heeeere we go.

Written at age 11:

Ugh. Ugh. Ugh.
Boom. Boom. Boom.
Fight. Fight. Fight.
No more wars.
It's not right. (consistent, aren't I)

war is over if you want it

 

[Angeline]

Real humility

is reading my pathetic 11-year-old effort and then reading this--dictated to me by my son when he was 8.

King Umaru

King Umaru wears a solar compactor
and a storer cape

He has wings and feather hair
stubby legs and one eye

King Umaru commands the
Knights of the Square Table

he can outrank any emperor
he can dance to Irish music

he can heal himself with solar cubes

King Umaru eats
Klonks (a type of fish)

when he is sick
he eats solar circles

he is also a carnivore
he eats submeat

(artificial meat)

King Umaru lives on Ekroh Celyah
he lives in Olohala town

he controls it

Olohala town is backwards

if another town were inventing
computers

they would invent armor.

 

[Angeline]

war is over if you want it

http://www.instantkarma.com/images/warisover98.jpg

yes. i do.

 

[eagleyez]

http://www.instantkarma.com/images/warisover98.jpg

yes. i do.

the word is YES.

 

[perks]

I'm living in a box that's nine by nine
sometimes I hate it, right now, it's just fine
it has brown walls, and a little green floor
a wild bedspread, and a wooden door
it contains a lot of character, I'm talking about me
and creativity, as you can see
what else can you do, while living in a box?

~melba age 15, sophomore

 

[Lauren Hynde]

Found this on the margins of my 10th grade philosophy school-book. Judging from the page where it is, I must have written it during a class about Nietzsche:


Murder your elect god
if your god
extinguishes the sun of your children
and create a new one
in the image of your utopia
and shed the blood of your children
as a tribute to the wrath
you expect from him.


- Ana

14¾ years old, listening to way too much Nick Cave and the Bad Seeds

 

[WickedEve]

Ok. heeeere we go.

Written at age 11:

Ugh. Ugh. Ugh.
Boom. Boom. Boom.
Fight. Fight. Fight.
No more wars.
It's not right. (consistent, aren't I)

This makes me feel better.

 

[Angeline]

This makes me feel better.

I think it has a certain inarticulate je ne sais quois. If I find this other file folder today, I'll treat you to some of my teenaged-angst ridden love poetry. Think you feel better now? You ain't seen nothin yet, lol.

 

[Icingsugar]

13 yrs old

Spiritual Nonens
(straight up translation, it used to rhyme)

If I could I think I would
but if I would I wouldn't wonder.
If I could, I wouldn't write this,
indesicion fuels my pen.

If I could I would believe in
all the crazy things they say,
weirdo fables of creation,
fairytales of miracles.

If I could I would be kneeling,
lock my hands and bow my head,
dance a rain dance, turn to Mecca,
or however it is done.

If I could I think I would.
It seems such an easy route.
But me? I haven't got a clue,
and it's such a long way down.

But at least I have my pen,
so instead I write this down.
I'll figure things out later,
God is patient, if he's there.

 

[cerulean_ink]

Oh geez, pick a notebook and I've got page after page of angsty stuff:

Eye of Chaos

Buildings crumble, cities fall,
Humanity struggles through it all.
Walking blindly towards the light,
Stumbling through the darkest night.
Throughout this chaos, calmness reigns,
Lucid thoughts amongst the pain.
Humanity is just a word,
But though our actions can be heard.
Many voices joining in,
Chaos drowned out by the din.
Humanity is not just one,
If we work together, it can be done.

That Sound You Hear

Soft sounds abound beneath the low hum of silence,
The stillness and I have an uneasy alliance.
So quiet it scares me at times, I call out for you,
And the silent hum climbs.
The silence it seems is the end of this game,
The outcome is static, it's always the same.
No winners are chosen, no finish lines crossed,
A piece of myself is all that I've lost.
The only sound heard save the hum of the silence,
Is my heart waiting on a stupid reliance
Relying on you to return my cries,
Alone again, what a surprise.

and of course, the obligatory valentine's day poem:

No Flowers

The air full of love
or is it despair?
A melancholy feeling
thickens the air.

A smell of carnations
darkens the mood,
again left alone
only to brood.

A sweet scent of chocolate
fills up the room,
I seem to be left
only in gloom.

A drama queen passes
completing the scene,
look at those flowers
watch the girls preen.

The air full of love
or is it despair?
February 14th,
what do I care?

 

[Icingsugar]

Some teenage angst

when it all is over
and the last straw snaps
the camel's back

when the final drop
of clean water merges
with a soot stained ocean

when nobody cares
to love new generations
to life

will we still be there,
knee deep in our own self pity,
shifting blame?


(Hmm, not as sucky as I wanna be. I have to dig deeper.)

 

[echoes_s]

Ewww, age of teens

Desolation

Lost
Desolation
The world
is crumbling
to dust,
slipping through
your fingers.
You can't stop it,
you have no control.
Like an earthquake
everything is falling to peices,
tumbling around you.
Yet it is not the earth that is quaking
just your heart.

Fallen Tears

The tune of the waves,
softly lulled the sand to sleep.
The foam
enclosed shells like a protective sheet.
Cries of gulls
and distant chirps of grasshoppers ceased.
A dark velvet blanket covered the beach.
Shining eyes
opened two by two, through holes
as a shimmering silver coin
reached it's highest peak.
Glistening like a lone teardrop,
falling where no one could see.

Eternal Wastefulness

The faint chalky mist wearily kisses your body.
The somber dusk softly steals all around.
Husky murmurs of the gentle breeze
tenderly rustles clinging leaves,
whispering to you as your empty soul
silently walks down this echoing road.
Your wistful footsteps yearn softly
for a repeated version.
Waiting with aching breathlessness
only to be expelled again and again
with gloomy disappointment
while the silence hangs heavy
with eternal wastefulness.

The Night has Died

The night has died so young
drowned within torrential rains
cascading as razors against the heart
stripped bare, left quivering in pain.
Gentle and soft were her kisses,
A mother with love to share,
but she has gone, now left alone...
but a dream, no reality there

Alone

Wandering through the dusty fields
scraping feet upon the stones
grazing legs against the reeds
feeling lost and so forlorn
wailing like a newborn babe
who's lost and all alone

walking o'er barren land
burning from the blazing sun
stooping from life's heavy load
feeling lost where'er I run
echoing like this empty life
so lost and all alone

Kneeling down into the waves
grasping air and foam and sand
imitating manmade graves
imitating this vast land
crying now but to myself
kneeling all alone

Broken Spirit

I am a river who is running
but a stream, trickling weak
there is a torrent of emotions
dripping tears, staining cheeks.
I am the wind who is moaning,
but a gale screaming pain,
there's a hurricane of emotions
breaking hearts with every rain.
I'm the moon glistening sadly,
hailing stars upon this earth.
There is nothing left to live for
There is nothing felt but hurt.
I'm the rose crushed beneath you,
I'm the love held within.
I have no reason left to live
No reason to begin.

Broken in Spirit

Tattered and torn, broken in spirit
the pain so harsh, screaming, can you hear it?
Grating against the walls of your soul
will you ever again be one that is whole?

ugh