Bow to starboard, Port to stern
I’m in this vessel, under siege
Overflowing, Taking water
Drowning with no life preservers.
I went all in, I went all out
Free of caution – and taking no damned prisoners
Blind faith was not enough.
I thought Lady Luck
Would make the sea level lower,
Help my breath last longer
And my heart beat slower
I thought Mother Nature
Would clear the waters from my path
Break the clouds and change to sun
Did I invoke her wrath?
I thought Lady Liberty
Would lift her lamp beside the golden door,
When I was yearning to breathe free
And take me safe inside
Instead,
With no one to save me;
A man overboard,
The water swept me away.
**********************
I just wrote this out, and I feel like it's almost two poems crunched into one.
Perhaps I need to seperate the two? Write one with the nautical theme and the other about the ladiesss?
Or do you think having them both is alright?
Saturday, November 14, 2009
flavour of the month
Hey this piece is unfinished, i can't figure out what i want added to it yet, but i would love to hear you suggestions.
enjoy.
No one cares
cause I'm not the flavour of the month
no one talks about me
I'm not loved
They don't advertise me
They don't care
My flavour is past its prime
and my option I will eventually die
cause someone new came in
and became the flavour of the month
I wrote this poem in a simple straight to the point way. This poem is about how our society is so fickle about infectious disease. That people stop caring about some diseases before they are cured and leave the people suffering with them high and dry.
This poem specifically talks about how No one seems to care anymore about HIV/AIDS and there are still so many people that have it.
Now people only care about cancer and finding a way of curring it. There are treatment options for both but HIV/AIDS is killing millions of people in Africa every year and no one seems to care.
PS. please refrain from commenting on spelling. thank you.
enjoy.
No one cares
cause I'm not the flavour of the month
no one talks about me
I'm not loved
They don't advertise me
They don't care
My flavour is past its prime
and my option I will eventually die
cause someone new came in
and became the flavour of the month
I wrote this poem in a simple straight to the point way. This poem is about how our society is so fickle about infectious disease. That people stop caring about some diseases before they are cured and leave the people suffering with them high and dry.
This poem specifically talks about how No one seems to care anymore about HIV/AIDS and there are still so many people that have it.
Now people only care about cancer and finding a way of curring it. There are treatment options for both but HIV/AIDS is killing millions of people in Africa every year and no one seems to care.
PS. please refrain from commenting on spelling. thank you.
I wish
I wish I was the tallest man in the whole wide world,
so then they could see all the little things I do
and hear all the little things I say.
Then they’d all have to look up to me,
And I’d look down on them all.
I wish and wish with all might,
To take away all my fright,
But I know that I’ll never change,
And I’ll always be the same.
But where there’s hope, there is chance,
And that’s where I’ll take my stance.
I wish I was the smartest man in the whole wide world.
I’d have all the answers,
And solve all the riddle.
I’d know everything,
While they knew nothing.
I wish and wish with all might,
To take away all my fright.
But I know that I’ll never change,
And I’ll always be the same.
But where there’s hope, they might be chance,
And that’s where I’ll be tonight.
I wish I was the strongest man in the whole wide world
Then I’d never have to fight
I’d sleep sound at night
And they’d all fear me
that’s the way it should be
I wish I was the happiest man in the whole wide world,
I’d never stop smiling,
I’d never stop laughing,
And I wouldn’t care about a thing,
I would just dance and sing.
I wish and wish with all might,
To take away all my fright.
But I know that I’ll never change,
And I’ll always be the same,
But where there’s hope, there is chance,
And that’s where I’ll take my stance.
I wish I wasn’t the loneliest person in the whole wide world,
I could maybe hold your hand,
And maybe I wouldn’t sleep by myself,
And wake up to someone else,
Maybe I wouldn’t die alone....
-----
This is just a poem a wrote recently, what are your Thoughts?Suggestions?Questions?
so then they could see all the little things I do
and hear all the little things I say.
Then they’d all have to look up to me,
And I’d look down on them all.
I wish and wish with all might,
To take away all my fright,
But I know that I’ll never change,
And I’ll always be the same.
But where there’s hope, there is chance,
And that’s where I’ll take my stance.
I wish I was the smartest man in the whole wide world.
I’d have all the answers,
And solve all the riddle.
I’d know everything,
While they knew nothing.
I wish and wish with all might,
To take away all my fright.
But I know that I’ll never change,
And I’ll always be the same.
But where there’s hope, they might be chance,
And that’s where I’ll be tonight.
I wish I was the strongest man in the whole wide world
Then I’d never have to fight
I’d sleep sound at night
And they’d all fear me
that’s the way it should be
I wish I was the happiest man in the whole wide world,
I’d never stop smiling,
I’d never stop laughing,
And I wouldn’t care about a thing,
I would just dance and sing.
I wish and wish with all might,
To take away all my fright.
But I know that I’ll never change,
And I’ll always be the same,
But where there’s hope, there is chance,
And that’s where I’ll take my stance.
I wish I wasn’t the loneliest person in the whole wide world,
I could maybe hold your hand,
And maybe I wouldn’t sleep by myself,
And wake up to someone else,
Maybe I wouldn’t die alone....
-----
This is just a poem a wrote recently, what are your Thoughts?Suggestions?Questions?
They Said Otherwise
This is just a poem I wrote last year.
--
These mountains I climb,
Are foothills they said.
These dreams I chase,
aren’t real they said.
These loves I pursue,
Aren’t worth it they said.
These tight ropes I walk,
Are too wide enough they said.
These open wounds,
Are healed they said.
The beasts I slay,
are mice they said.
These stars I see,
Are all in my head they said.
The beauty I see,
couldn’t be uglier they said.
The ground I break,
Has already been broken they said.
The lives I touch,
are tainted they said.
These roads I follow,
will only get me lost they said.
This ocean I swim in,
is simply a pond they said.
Everything I did,
had already been done they said;
My right is wrong
they said.
Your reality is a delusion they said,
You’re lacking they said,
You’re wrong they said,
You’re wrong, is what they said.
You’re not right they said.
These triumphs are failures they said.
The life I had lead based upon my own desires, risks taken, tasks conquered, victories and losses, was simply a joke they said.
Like a fish i swam into their judgmental jaws, as they consumed my pride, and although I tried to break free from their foaming mouths of conformity, my dignity was lost, and my self respect had been digested by their looming black eyes of disgust.
This, isn’t art they said,
And for a split second, I believed everything they said,
for a split second, I believed everything I had been told
my reality false, a figment of my imagination.
Thankfully, I was blessed with only a second of this delusion as I came to the realization
That different doesn’t equate to wrong .
That, because I don’t conform to the generalized accepted norm of society, I, as a person am not wrong, yet different.
And although the smile I wear may be faint, it still exists,
and my triumphs are my own,
and these stars I see are real to me,
these mountains I climb couldn’t be bigger,
and my right is not wrong, yet my own.
They said otherwise,
as I proudly do…otherwise.
-----
Thoughts?Comments?Suggestions?
--
These mountains I climb,
Are foothills they said.
These dreams I chase,
aren’t real they said.
These loves I pursue,
Aren’t worth it they said.
These tight ropes I walk,
Are too wide enough they said.
These open wounds,
Are healed they said.
The beasts I slay,
are mice they said.
These stars I see,
Are all in my head they said.
The beauty I see,
couldn’t be uglier they said.
The ground I break,
Has already been broken they said.
The lives I touch,
are tainted they said.
These roads I follow,
will only get me lost they said.
This ocean I swim in,
is simply a pond they said.
Everything I did,
had already been done they said;
My right is wrong
they said.
Your reality is a delusion they said,
You’re lacking they said,
You’re wrong they said,
You’re wrong, is what they said.
You’re not right they said.
These triumphs are failures they said.
The life I had lead based upon my own desires, risks taken, tasks conquered, victories and losses, was simply a joke they said.
Like a fish i swam into their judgmental jaws, as they consumed my pride, and although I tried to break free from their foaming mouths of conformity, my dignity was lost, and my self respect had been digested by their looming black eyes of disgust.
This, isn’t art they said,
And for a split second, I believed everything they said,
for a split second, I believed everything I had been told
my reality false, a figment of my imagination.
Thankfully, I was blessed with only a second of this delusion as I came to the realization
That different doesn’t equate to wrong .
That, because I don’t conform to the generalized accepted norm of society, I, as a person am not wrong, yet different.
And although the smile I wear may be faint, it still exists,
and my triumphs are my own,
and these stars I see are real to me,
these mountains I climb couldn’t be bigger,
and my right is not wrong, yet my own.
They said otherwise,
as I proudly do…otherwise.
-----
Thoughts?Comments?Suggestions?
The Cell
So, this is a poem that i wrote uhh.. for grade 11 english? we had to write a sonnet and it had to be based on a character, theme or motif within The Crucible. this is a structured shakespearean sonnet.
i admit its pretty vague... it isn't supposed to be altogether clear, but it is based on the idea of John Proctor being trapped in prison, trapped in a web of lies, betrayal and political/spiritual/governmental dispute. (and btw if the last two lines seem weird and out of place, they are supposed to be separated and reveal something different or slightly shocking.. fyi.)
uhm. yeah. so here it is; originally untitled. recently (as in 2 seconds ago) named "The Cell".
A cry, a scream; it echoes through iron,
distorting stone faces never to be,
past concrete walls of clever deception
condemned to linger and never be free.
chains rattle and thrash to hopelessly fight
against knowing eyes of the conscious mind.
the darkness taunts with merciless delight
as flickering hope becomes a rare find.
to the stars, I beg, take with thee my pride
before my heartbeat stops cold as cement.
to the stars, ‘tis you in whom I confide
to escape the knell announcing torment.
such like the pleading that came from within.
Friday, November 13, 2009
Random Words Immitating Art
So remember how we always play with fonts to emphasize words and phrases; and how one week Jordan said that the bolded words in one of the pieces could make a cool poem?
Well, I took that to the next level. I took as many of the bolded phrases as possible from all our past posts and transformed them into a poem. I tweaked it slightly (like altering tenses and removing and/or adding words). Nonetheless it is essentially your words strung together in a new and interesting way. It is not meant to make sense, so you can take any meaning out of it that you want. It was just a fun way for me to try and use as many of the phrases as possible in a manner that was (somewhat) sensible.
Enjoy.
********************************************
With bright eyes I can see:
The world’s miracles, and amazing ballads,
Overshadowed with horrors and fear.
What will it take to shatter the stupid illusions,
That shake my frame, time and time again.
I feel that I am numb; waiting transfixed,
In a world that’s awkwardly quiet
And lacking versatility.
I can’t take it anymore;
This haunting, glorious and magical freedom.
It is absurd and reckless-
A fragile harmony that rests on the ignorant.
I am outraged and disturbed as my fate waits,
In powerful hands.
I had the naïve impression,
That in a little while, I could see a perfect world:
A faith that was rediscovered and an inspiration that
Never dies.
And with curiosity coursing through my veins,
My terror evolved into disbelief;
That I can swing and I can miss,
I can crash to the floor,
I can pull, rip and tear until there is nothing left;
But that essence of a perfect world could still be
Remembered.
**********************************
Interesting, no?
I know it makes no sense whatsoever, but that's the point. So what do you think?
Well, I took that to the next level. I took as many of the bolded phrases as possible from all our past posts and transformed them into a poem. I tweaked it slightly (like altering tenses and removing and/or adding words). Nonetheless it is essentially your words strung together in a new and interesting way. It is not meant to make sense, so you can take any meaning out of it that you want. It was just a fun way for me to try and use as many of the phrases as possible in a manner that was (somewhat) sensible.
Enjoy.
********************************************
With bright eyes I can see:
The world’s miracles, and amazing ballads,
Overshadowed with horrors and fear.
What will it take to shatter the stupid illusions,
That shake my frame, time and time again.
I feel that I am numb; waiting transfixed,
In a world that’s awkwardly quiet
And lacking versatility.
I can’t take it anymore;
This haunting, glorious and magical freedom.
It is absurd and reckless-
A fragile harmony that rests on the ignorant.
I am outraged and disturbed as my fate waits,
In powerful hands.
I had the naïve impression,
That in a little while, I could see a perfect world:
A faith that was rediscovered and an inspiration that
Never dies.
And with curiosity coursing through my veins,
My terror evolved into disbelief;
That I can swing and I can miss,
I can crash to the floor,
I can pull, rip and tear until there is nothing left;
But that essence of a perfect world could still be
Remembered.
**********************************
Interesting, no?
I know it makes no sense whatsoever, but that's the point. So what do you think?
Wednesday, November 11, 2009
Together, We'll Hold On
For me…
would you hold on?
Even if it's just a second longer,
Because that one second,
Can make us stronger.
If darkness sets in,
And you lose your faith.
If your heart wears thin,
Just know I'm here for you.
Please keep pushing on,
Until the very end,
Because together, I know,
We can make it around the bend.
No matter what; I’ll be there.
I will be your shoulder to cry on,
Your soldier, your rock.
I’ll stay until the pain is gone.
And when your eyes grow tired,
With the endless tears you cried,
I will comfort you; be all you desired.
But please, would you hold on
…to me.
----------------------------------------------
I found this poem in an old journal... I'm not sure how I feel about it. I think it is lacking a central theme because the stanzas could be linked better. And I think it could possibly use a stronger ending. I made a few changes, but it still sounds wordy and I'm not sure the punctuation is correct. Either way, I like the concept. So what do you think? Likes/dislikes? Areas for improvement?
would you hold on?
Even if it's just a second longer,
Because that one second,
Can make us stronger.
If darkness sets in,
And you lose your faith.
If your heart wears thin,
Just know I'm here for you.
Please keep pushing on,
Until the very end,
Because together, I know,
We can make it around the bend.
No matter what; I’ll be there.
I will be your shoulder to cry on,
Your soldier, your rock.
I’ll stay until the pain is gone.
And when your eyes grow tired,
With the endless tears you cried,
I will comfort you; be all you desired.
But please, would you hold on
…to me.
----------------------------------------------
I found this poem in an old journal... I'm not sure how I feel about it. I think it is lacking a central theme because the stanzas could be linked better. And I think it could possibly use a stronger ending. I made a few changes, but it still sounds wordy and I'm not sure the punctuation is correct. Either way, I like the concept. So what do you think? Likes/dislikes? Areas for improvement?
Encircle me; I need to be taken down.
Most musicians I listen to can be sorted into at least one of these categories:
Female
Gay
Indie
or
Canadian
Now, what do you get when you mix all four of these things together?
You get the indie pop-rock duo Tegan and Sara!
These Vancouver-based twins have perfected the combination of catchy hooks, beautiful harmonies and quirky lyrics, reaching their musical peak in their album ‘The Con’. Their more recent album ‘Sainthood’ heads in a very different, much darker direction. Their usage of electronics and distortion is much heavier and more apparent, the expirimentation created for a moodier tone. The lyrics, however, remain the same; clever yet sorrowful songs about love, broken hearts and growing up. While I do enjoy some of the dissonance and experimentation found throughout 'Sainthood', the catchy melodies of 'The Con' play on our heartstrings for every note they pluck out on their guitars.
I must admit that when I first was introduced to Tegan and Sara by my best friend my first thought was -
'Oh my god! Why are their voices SO annoying?'
However, the more I listened the more I grew accustomed to their voices. Despite the uniqueness of their tone, the hooks of the songs began to seep into my brain. I was waking up with their songs stuck in my head! Steadfastly I began to listen to them more and more, until they nestled themselves into my top 10 and even after the catchiness of their music wore off, the sincerity and genuine emotion kept me hooked till this day.
Now, I'm sure all of you have heard OF Tegan and Sara, but they truly are the most famous band you will never hear. Despite the fact that everyone has heard of them, you will only ever hear their music on the radio once in a blue moon. But despite this fact, if you have never heard their music you should really take a listen to their interesting style of pop-rock music. These canadian sisters have only just begun their domination of the (Canadian) indie scene.
Broken Promises: The Next Generation?
When it comes to community and global involvement, I'd say it's pretty easy to get inspired. Almost too easy.
We listen to activists-turned-celebrities like Craig Kielburger fire up a crowd, and our passion to take action is instantaneous; Students of all ages - not to mention, throngs of girls who swoon at the mere off-handed remark of the heart-throb - flock to the merchandise table to pick up the latest in Me to We styles.
Don't get me wrong, I'm not saying this is necessarily a bad thing! Hey, if all it takes to encourage support of an organization is a good looking guy with a nack for motivation... Well, more power to you! What pisses me off, though, is the reason behind the purchases and the attitudes behind the words. People just don't seem to realize that the tough decision comes once the euphoria has settled and our vocal chords have been nursed back from hoarseness. We have the opportunity to choose action over inaction, experience over ignorance and understanding over intolerance; shouldn't we take some sort of first step?
"Who's going to change the world?" Craig asked in his latest appearance at the Ontario Student Leadership Conference.
There was no hesitation. Thundering cheers erupted in the crowd of 2000 students who dutifully answered:
"We are!"
But hold on - let's stop and think about this for a moment. I don't know about the rest of you, but I am certainly not won over by a crowd of over-excited, hormone-crazed teenagers. It disgusts me to say this, but I'm not convinced. And neither is the rest of the world.
I'm willing to bet that today's generation of youth-inspired change has confused a lot of people - myself, admittedly, included. But I feel justified in my criticism; I've seen too many people commit only to retreat to the safety of their bedrooms while the world waits outside of their windows.
Volunteer your time at local soup kitchens. Fundraise to provide food, clothing or even Christmas gifts to the underpriviledged. Get involved with global and commuity outlets such as Free the Children, WarChild, WorldVision and the Stephen Lewis Foundation.
Start by changing personal attitudes. Do your part to fight the inadequacies that fund 1.3 trillion dollars worth of weaponry and military spending and at the same time keep hundreds of thousands of children from an education each year.
In the words of Bill Clinton, it is up to us to establish our purpose, to "lead by the power of our example [rather] than by the example of our power."
We must choose. We must stand.
It's about time.
We listen to activists-turned-celebrities like Craig Kielburger fire up a crowd, and our passion to take action is instantaneous; Students of all ages - not to mention, throngs of girls who swoon at the mere off-handed remark of the heart-throb - flock to the merchandise table to pick up the latest in Me to We styles.
Don't get me wrong, I'm not saying this is necessarily a bad thing! Hey, if all it takes to encourage support of an organization is a good looking guy with a nack for motivation... Well, more power to you! What pisses me off, though, is the reason behind the purchases and the attitudes behind the words. People just don't seem to realize that the tough decision comes once the euphoria has settled and our vocal chords have been nursed back from hoarseness. We have the opportunity to choose action over inaction, experience over ignorance and understanding over intolerance; shouldn't we take some sort of first step?
"Who's going to change the world?" Craig asked in his latest appearance at the Ontario Student Leadership Conference.
There was no hesitation. Thundering cheers erupted in the crowd of 2000 students who dutifully answered:
"We are!"
But hold on - let's stop and think about this for a moment. I don't know about the rest of you, but I am certainly not won over by a crowd of over-excited, hormone-crazed teenagers. It disgusts me to say this, but I'm not convinced. And neither is the rest of the world.
I'm willing to bet that today's generation of youth-inspired change has confused a lot of people - myself, admittedly, included. But I feel justified in my criticism; I've seen too many people commit only to retreat to the safety of their bedrooms while the world waits outside of their windows.
Volunteer your time at local soup kitchens. Fundraise to provide food, clothing or even Christmas gifts to the underpriviledged. Get involved with global and commuity outlets such as Free the Children, WarChild, WorldVision and the Stephen Lewis Foundation.
Start by changing personal attitudes. Do your part to fight the inadequacies that fund 1.3 trillion dollars worth of weaponry and military spending and at the same time keep hundreds of thousands of children from an education each year.
In the words of Bill Clinton, it is up to us to establish our purpose, to "lead by the power of our example [rather] than by the example of our power."
We must choose. We must stand.
It's about time.
Monday, November 9, 2009
Shoot Me
Have you got 5 hours to kill?
Have you got 5 minutes to die?
Are you willing to make a change?
Are you even willing to try?
Stop staring at the computer
Their controlling
Your life
Stop pointing the gun at the
Innocent,
Point it at the ones responsible
For your
Suffering.
Stop feeling sorry for yourself
Start trying to
Fix it,
And stop pretending you're not
Listening to me.
Realize your fear
Set aside your pride
Start talking when your scared
Stop trying to hide.
Live with your faults
Survive in your guilt
And stop thinking your
The only one feeling that way.
And I know you're feeling
This way because you're
In front
Of me
Now
And I'm the one controlling
Your life And I'm the one
You're pointing the gun at.
So go ahead.
I dare you.
Shoot.
Have you got 5 minutes to die?
Are you willing to make a change?
Are you even willing to try?
Stop staring at the computer
Their controlling
Your life
Stop pointing the gun at the
Innocent,
Point it at the ones responsible
For your
Suffering.
Stop feeling sorry for yourself
Start trying to
Fix it,
And stop pretending you're not
Listening to me.
Realize your fear
Set aside your pride
Start talking when your scared
Stop trying to hide.
Live with your faults
Survive in your guilt
And stop thinking your
The only one feeling that way.
And I know you're feeling
This way because you're
In front
Of me
Now
And I'm the one controlling
Your life And I'm the one
You're pointing the gun at.
So go ahead.
I dare you.
Shoot.
To A Musician
I sit in the lonely slumber
Of my ill-informed mind,
And wonder to myself softly
If your talent will ever be mine.
The strings vibrate gently
Through the contours of my eyes;
Closed in contemplative fashion,
They make your lines alive.
You've created the perfection
That I can never hope to achieve;
I've become the very Gray I despise;
Caught the very same disease.
And with every note strung,
I fall a little more in love
With the stirrings of my heart
And the euphoria akin to drugs.
But my illusion is shattered by
The single resonance of your voice,
Filled with the pain and disgust
Of a bleeding heart, sticky and moist.
And I feverishly wish to feel
Again, that retching pain;
It must be easier to dispel than
The mental bullet lodged in my brain.
I can't tell you why they don't
Ever tell us how much love stings,
But I can tell you that pain
Is the reason your voice [and my heart] sing.
Of my ill-informed mind,
And wonder to myself softly
If your talent will ever be mine.
The strings vibrate gently
Through the contours of my eyes;
Closed in contemplative fashion,
They make your lines alive.
You've created the perfection
That I can never hope to achieve;
I've become the very Gray I despise;
Caught the very same disease.
And with every note strung,
I fall a little more in love
With the stirrings of my heart
And the euphoria akin to drugs.
But my illusion is shattered by
The single resonance of your voice,
Filled with the pain and disgust
Of a bleeding heart, sticky and moist.
And I feverishly wish to feel
Again, that retching pain;
It must be easier to dispel than
The mental bullet lodged in my brain.
I can't tell you why they don't
Ever tell us how much love stings,
But I can tell you that pain
Is the reason your voice [and my heart] sing.
Sunday, November 8, 2009
The Coast
Where lights bleed yellow, green and red,
Where the hum of cars live by night;
The road is guided by moonlight,
When the burning sun is dead.
The yellow lines point to home,
The signs tells where to go,
The railroad tracks make it so;
Silence is never alone.
Greeted by winds from the coast,
The cold air is moist and thick;
The lighthouse is a burning wick,
That illuminates the sea’s host.
These winding roads all drive us home,
And these lights tells us when to go,
But this coast is all I’ve ever known-
The only place, I’m not alone.
------
I did this one for my first portfolio, and couldn't think of anything to write so i'm sharing this with you all.
Feedback Ploxxxxxxxxxxx
Where the hum of cars live by night;
The road is guided by moonlight,
When the burning sun is dead.
The yellow lines point to home,
The signs tells where to go,
The railroad tracks make it so;
Silence is never alone.
Greeted by winds from the coast,
The cold air is moist and thick;
The lighthouse is a burning wick,
That illuminates the sea’s host.
These winding roads all drive us home,
And these lights tells us when to go,
But this coast is all I’ve ever known-
The only place, I’m not alone.
------
I did this one for my first portfolio, and couldn't think of anything to write so i'm sharing this with you all.
Feedback Ploxxxxxxxxxxx
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