An uneventful day in which I just passed through pages and pages of my own memories. I am still working on the poem I started couple of days ago, It is growing by every hour. Now 55 lines long but I am still not happy with the starting. I am moving my poetry forum http://www.lonelypoet.org to a new server but the hosting company said it will take about 48 hours for them to finish the transfer of domain and setup. Once they are done then I have a lot to do to move my handful of members and their posts into the new sever. That will be fun, I know that, as I have gone through that drill before.
This is a poem I wrote on a day like this as every time I look back in my memories I only have one event and everything that happend around it to think about and talk about. I left this poem in my hard drive as an unfinished one, but I don’t think there is a lot to finish in it anymore. If it is not going to make any sense to someone please let me know what did not made sense.
Gathering Events.
The twist and turns of these tiring days,
That tires even the bravest minds,
Give the thought that nothing outlasts,
The mockery of time with life.
Darkness and light no longer fights,
Days are not long anymore,
Nights are darker with sleeping stars,
Every bit of life in every corner of the universe,
Fed up with the bravery of the idiots,
Who all fight with tooth and nail,
For a bit of time that fits every living, in.
Some time even time will feel shy and laugh,
When spiritual and material life is defined,
Nothing is material is the fact,
None cared when defined life,
To control this unknown passage,
Which grandma called ‘Fate’.
There are those who believe,
They are in between material and spiritual life,
The unknown fact for them is,
They live a dual life, one in dream,
Another, a dream about dreams.
Oh’ my life hit the dead end,
Where the dual lives parted ways,
As to a passion lost,
The ways to bind two lives together,
And dreams and the dream about dreams,
Way back in my past days.
The calendar smiles with a new number,
Time, like a monster goes around then come around,
The twists and turns burns down to mere events,
Passing by with little impact upon time,
And time chases like an avenging warrior;
And dug up from the grave of dreams,
That old passion and up in the horizon left,
And that passion lingers like a thunder cloud,
Covering every other feeling away,
Life in simplicity,
Gathering events for a sad memoir.
Thanks… however, i *did* write well.. i think i’ve lost my touch, with all these emotions i’ve been having..once i’m on track i’m sure it’ll get better. but i’ll try and keep it in mind, and write more 🙂
As i forgot to say, that poem up there is beautiful
hey thanx 4 droppin by my site…and for the comments 2…nice poetry…one of the greatest gifts someone can have is the gift to effectively portray emotions through words…sumtimes it is such a release…
thanks for the props. if u want, i can type up a prologue and send it to ya lol. i’ve kinda been meanin to do that anyway. by tha way, i absolutely loved ur poem. it reminds me of exactly how my life is sometimes… lost, meaningless. yet, ur sometimes unexpectedly reminded of sweet or nostalgic times in ur life when people were and weren’t there when you needed them most. i really thought it was beautiful. i mean, memories are the best things in life…they’re the lightest souviners.
Hey um where did u get my xanga from? And why do u care about my font? lol jw not trying to be like….GGRRR ya know!? lol
Lotx Of Luv,
..:*Katie:*:..
Thank you for saying hi! Your comment made my day 🙂 I write poetry also but it is not as grand as yours. Amazing, thanks for sharing! You are very talented.
~Meg
Hello, I have no idea who you are, but I have no problem with you dropping by my blog again. Your poetry is absolutely beautiful. It’s so hard to find people who will show so much emotion in the simplest of ways. It’s funny how words can express so much feeling, so much depth. I’m in high school and am surrounded 24/7 by complete morons.
It’s hard for me to act like myself around them. If I DID act like my true self, I doubt that I’d have many friends at all. As it is, I only have about six. I guess in a way, I’m just as moronic as them in the sense of trying to “fit in.” I’m not looking for sympathy, by the way. It’s just, you seem to know what you’re talking about. Would you mind leaving me another comment?
I write stories, poetry, and songs, you know. Would you like me to send you a sample? If you don’t leave me another comment, then I’ll know you won’t. Well, again, thank you for the comment. Good bye.
wat song?
Wow……that was deep. I’ve always had trouble understanding poetry. I have often thought I just wasn’t wise enough to get it. You put words together beautifuly. I have to be honest though and tell you that it might take me a few times reading it to understand the true meaning. I also wanted to thank you for leaving me a comment after my ramblings. It means a lot to me. I have never really had anything special to say, and I wouldn’t think anyone would be willing to give up thier time reading what I write. Thank You!
ahm,,,ok,,,y??u like dat song???hmmp…how do u knw my syt??
Hi, it’s me, spygurlrouge, again. Thanks for being so kind; I’ll post my work sometime soon, somehow…So, humor me here, Mr. Poet.
Okay, no one who’s left you comments knows who you are. They all seem to write poetry and songs, but not a one of them knows how you got to their site. What’s you’re game? You seem really nice…so do you just go around, looking at random sites, or is this about something else?
Sorry if I’m sounding rude here. I’m just an EXTREMEMLY curious person, is all. I like observing things. Well, like I said, I’ll post one of my prologues as soon as I can. By the way, just how old are you? I turned bitter sixteen on March fourteenth. (Happy April Fool’s Day, by the way!) I’d forgotten earlier this morning!
the quiz that i have is wicked awesome. you should take it. you probably already have. maybe or not. 🙂 april fools?
Thanks for coming to my site your poetry really is good. It’s rare tghat u see a male express his poetry so I take it as a pleasure.
Hi. Thanks for your comment on my Xanga. I’m not sure yet about the type of film I’m gonna make. I like your poetry. You seem like an artistic person. Got any film ideas?
Thats so true. There are so many things people do, even christians, and they don’t even know the purpose of it. Like hallow prayers and the actions they choose all affect their lives and they don’t even see it. Its ignorance that kills, and its probably the reason most people go to hell. Cause if we all new that heaven was real, why would we choose anything else? What would be the point of living with freewill if we knew for a fact all we had to do was follow a set of rules and we would go to heaven. Its the essence of believe in God and living for Him through Jesus that people can’t seem to understand. Or maybe its the fact that they choose not to even look into it. Most people hardly even know who God is. Its not church or reading your bible or praying for things. Its beyond that. Those are all important things and will be revealed in due time once you dive in. But no one ever want to try. Its way easier to live in the moment and do what feels good. Its funny how everything thats bad lives off everything thats good. Love, Money, Power, Sex are all good things. Its just when we go about them the wrong way or want too much is where we go wrong. Its that voice whispering telling us that it feels good and its what we want. Its what we want at the time because we can’t see past the mascarade and into what we are effecting. We hurt other when we only try to live on our own. Its the very path of “I can do what I want as long as I don’t hurt anyone else…” that kills us all. That is a cowards answer to so many problems. I wish we would all take responsibilty. Thats another thing, we are obsessed with blame. Who’s at fault and the reasons to why we did it. Like was it Adam or was it Eve, and whose really the one that damned us all. Thanks Jesus… If we all came to terms with what we try so desperately to hide the world would be inb a far better place. People forget there is a devil and he is doing everything he cam to hurt us and make is look anywhere but ourselves for blame. After all we are in control of our lives and we have freewill, so its got to be someone elses fault. Anyways, sorry to bore you, its kind of just poured out. God bless, I hope this finds you well.
yup its a comment in malay..
a song actually…
first thought when i see ur page, ‘eh ayam ‘
that chicken is really an eye catcher : )
nice poem.hope to see more.
Hello. Thanks for subscribing.
I also live in Wisconsin, but nearer to Madison.
Hi, it’s me, spygurlrouge. Here’s a prologue to one of the stories I’m writing at the moment. It’s so short, I figured I’d just post it on your comments page. You don’t mind, do you? If it does bother you, just let me know. Thanks, bye!
If one ever finds oneself wandering aimlessly about, then one very well might come along the small meandering road called Dewberry Lane. Dewberry Lane is only the beginning of a network of tiny roads, many of which no one even knows exist.
It is said, that only a lost soul can find these roads. One minute a person can be walking along the street of a bustling town, and then the next, find themself somewhere completely different altogether.
Very few people have ever come back from their journey to these roads. No one’s quite sure why. When asked about their trek, the person only smiles and turns away as if holding a secret only they know. Perhaps they feel special by keeping that secret. Or perhaps…there is no way to explain what they’ve experienced, what they’ve seen.
But what becomes of the people who stay? Do they simply live happily ever after, or do they never end up finding what their looking for? That’s the question, isn’t it?
Some people of course, deny the roads of their existence. These are the people who have never known uncertainty. These are the people that go through life, never giving anything a passing glance.
Business meetings are more important than sunlit walks through parks. Bars are more entertaining, than simply going home and wishing upon the first star of the night. And alcohol is more satisfying than the sweet nectar of a honey suckle blossom picked straight from the vine.
Yes, it’s very sad, isn’t it? Why do people deny themselves the simplest of pleasures? Do they not know the sweet innocence of thought? The need for a day dream at least once a day? Or even the beauty of a raindrop, a perfect prism, a fleeting reflection of heaven whence it came.
No, they are too busy hiding their fears in their closets and attics. Too worried about what others might think of them if they were to break out in song while walking to work.
But some people…change. It’s not common, mind you, but it has happened. They figure out that something is missing in their life. Yes, they begin to think. That’s what sets them apart from the other billions of people working every day, every night.
The feeling of being incomplete, is one of the worst feelings anyone can experience. The sensation of being sucked into oblivion, and no way out. But of course, that’s what Dewberry Lane is for.
It’s always waiting for the next person to begin their journey, anticipating the next set of footprints signing it’s soil. Once one starts walking, there is no going back. The only option is to finish what begins, let go of the past, and reach out for the future.
And now if you will bear with me to the next page, our story will begin.
Sorry the prologue’s so long! I didn’t realize it would take up that much space. It won’t happen again. Sorry!