I'm on a roll and I can't stop it.


Caring feelings
I'm sick with my own (dis)pleasure
smothered by the disillusions
come crashing down on me
see if I care
see if I care
A horrible lump has grown in my throat
I choke on it to show a smile
But it can't be faked through the tears in my eyes
see if I care
Maybe it's beign self-destructive
not to let the tears be cried
It'll turn into fury
Oh I hope not
see if I care
what do I care?
so maybe I'm shaking
so maybe I'm breaking
doesn't matter, doesn't matter
what do I care?
I can't change it
I'm feeling lonely again
brought down from inexplicable high
what do I care?
I guess I care.

That's more like you!! You're really good at this!

Wow thank you! And I really mean it. I'm sort of in a manic-depressive way right now...like I'll have extreme highs and lows...rather scary...but the transitions tend to produce some worthy creations. So it's nice to hear appreciation.

I'm sort of in a manic-depressive way right now...like I'll have extreme highs and lowslol I'm like that all the time but nothin good seems to come out of it for me *tear*


that last one rules btw!!

F.O.D. but you still have to feed me
To do what you want is
forget what I want and to commit spiritual suicide; to lose
To do what I want is to
be reprimanded and scorned; to lose
To do either is to lose
but somehow I get lost in translation
and satisfy no one
not even myself
and remain without gratification
so here I am standing
back at square one
worse off than when I started
so I chose to rebel
and was left with no guilt
but the sound of hatred in your voice
**** you is the sound
of the voice in my head
but my mouth says nothing
and you hear that loud and clear
funny; when I'm saying things
you never seem to notice
or maybe you just don't care enough
to even pretend
what is it that makes you tick?
because you do a great job to tick me off
sometimes you know I just don't want to hear
how much you want me to succeed
because it makes me so much angrier
I know it doesn't make much sense
but I like to decide things for myself
thank you very much
I don't think you can appreciate that
or at least you don't seem to show it
maybe you care
so you tell me, it's true
but how many times must I listen to you?
if you maybe just let me make my own mistakes
I would learn it a million times better and know
that it was my own doing and that no one else
can take that away from me
but you would rather be my failure
be the one holding me up so high
that when I do fall
it is so much more difficult
to take myself to my feet
to "help" me is to hurt me
and I know that you know it
but you just can't resist
I know that it's because you care
but I can't let you know that I do as well
because giving in
is giving up
and everyone likes to do things on their own

I'm a big kid now
so shut up and let me grow up
by myself




Wow. What a load off my back. I know that kind of doesn't make sense because I just sort of was venting my anger but if you couldn't tell it was about my parents and if the poem seems a bit confused it's because I'm confused and don't know what I'm saying or what to say and this is the worst run-on sentence crime I have ever commited so I shall now take me leave and my breath.

that ones awesome, i feel the same way sometimes. woo!

I really really like it Kori. It's like when you want to make your own mistakes, 'cause you know that you can learn by yourself but plp is always trying to tell you what's wrong and what isn't. You want them to shut up 'cause you're big and you know what to do.
(well, that's what i think you want to say )

My favorite part is the title, for obvious reasons. Well, obvious for me anyway.

when i was reading it, i'm thinking... 'hhmm... it's her parents...' then after reading, you said it is for your parents. so i think the message and the subject is pretty clear.

Well, that's always nice to know: even when my mind is in a fog the poetry can be clear as day. Lol. Of course, so much angst could only have one source, so it's not hard to pinpoint...lol.

How do I manage to pass the days
not writing anything down?
It's like every time I think of something
there's something to keep it at bay
be it music, or parents, or, worst of all,
lack of motivation to foil my plans
or perhaps I've been overwhelmed
bombarded by my thoughts
which happens far too often
to be true.
I'll get overwhelmed,
surrender and go to sleep
ideals running through my head
coursing through my very veins
my blood is faught with inspiration
only to fall very short
you see, poetry is not
my medium
it's the only thing I've been
capable of lately
and poorly done, at that
I've just been so disracted
from the murder that is life
and yet have not found the
quiet to let my mind go
full astray
full away
oh dear I'm really a mess now
so it seems I should take my leave




Something I found on this little board that I was using to write on. A bit mundane, really don't know when or why I wrote it but it's quite intriguing...:

Bleeding water that is red
I'm falling down inside my head
I just don't know
what's happening
in the world outside lately


it really hits a nerve and it'd be nice if I could elaborate on it.

love it!! *claps* so true!! i feel that way sometimes. words fill my head, usually before i sleep, but no paper or pen or pencil within reach, and im too lazy to get up, so i just let the words kinda take over... *feels a poem coming up... watch my thread...*

Hey that's how it was for J.K. when she thought of Harry Potter lol so I guess I'm on the right track...

*clap* they're fantabulous!

Thanks Danz! Ha ha fantabulous. Such a lovely not-quite-real word.

My Coming-of-Age is Yet-to-Come
Every time I watch a movie
read a story or a book
inspiration for another
something comes to mind
doubtless it'll be forgotten
by tomorrow's light
but somewhere in my mind
I think I'm waiting
until it's exactly right
before I go out and
expose myself fully
I have to make sure
that it will be accepted
at least by me, right?
So here I am
looking at the screen
something about this person
makes me want to
scrape it down
out pour the
corny monologues
or character descriptions
too bad that I am lacking in
the instruments to capture it
without disturbing its nature
oh dear
it's not verse I want, Godd*mnit
it's just another
coming-of-age rebellion story

edit: on a different note, last night (or this morning) at 4ish, I was watching The-N, and there was a music video on it, this Sarah McLaughlin-type chick comes on and starts singing. The song was called "Breathe 2 am" or something...and she was saying "it's 2 am and I'm still awake .... song in my head ... waiting to get out on paper so that it's not bothering me anymore ..." something like that and I was like "yeah. that's it." Or something. Just thought that was interesting. At 4ish in the morning, simple things are interesting.

You are so very clever , and brutely honest lol give us more!

My, thank you. Ha ha um "brutally honest?" sure. I mean, I just say what is. Feelings, are brutal, so the words attempt to capture them. Really, I'm just being angsty and cliché...but thanks.

again, fantabulous {i stole that word from spongebob}

I'm trying to understand your poem right now, but I'm brain dead at the moment. Woke up too early this morning, and nothing is absorbing. Will read it again later, when my brain wakes up, then I'll comment... Right now, I do feel the angst!

sorry for taking so long... i still kinda don't get it. too deep. are you talking about ideas and stuff you get from different things for your poems?? this one does kinda confuse me...

Really? Wow I totally thought this one was more straightforward and schtuff. Ha ha guess not. "Too deep?". I don't think that's ever been a criticism of my poetry... Yeah basically it's just like every time I watch a movie or read a book or anything like that I get ideas for stories and characters. Most of which never even get written down and are forgotten within a bit of time. It makes me upset and basically I feel I go a little bit crazy, like frenzied or something when I finally do get the motivation to write something down, trying to catch it, and it ends up sounding corny or something. But the thing is, all this time I'm trying to do this, all I ever end up getting from it is a poem. Which really isn't what I want. I'm not a poet, but my overactive mind begs to differ.

You know what I think about your poems....I'm not saying it again 'cause that'd be annoying. =)

Alright, Luna. You're right; I do know. Thank you. And well there's no amount of modesty that one person could acquire without still being at least a little bit proud and of course, I have to like it to be able to show it to others. Therein lies the creative perfectionism I possess. And now, on with the show.

As you know (or may not), I just had my birthday yesterday (scarcely yesterday; for me it's only 50 minutes behind me). I turned 15, for those whom it concerns. But besides that, the US holiday celebrating independence and the ultimate excuse to be a faux-patriot-for-a-day (though I do love my country just not in the way that loving one's country is represented by some people i.e. George Bush which to me really isn't loving ...) anyway is coming up this Monday, July 4th, and I just thought of writing a poem called independence day in line with those two events. So here is this poem, 4 days early...

[u]Independence Day[/i]
Today's the day
Independence Day
just like yesterday
when I break out of
this hardened shell
it's grown thicker
every day of my life
from this day
those few years ago
when the seed was sprouted
but I'm still a nut
and instead of growing up and out
I'm growing down and in
so when I finally do get out
I'll choke and stagger
in my new arena
so I'm not there yet
but I'm one step closer
to stepping out
to stepping up
to stepping in
to my own skin
the pushes and pulls
the hits and the breaks
it's endured for me
to finally live in it
in my own way
on my own day
my Independence Day


it's ironic though because well it's not just my day, but my sister's as well. I don't truly have my own rightful day all to myself. Not that it's bothered me for the last 14 years....I've been sort of lazy lately about my poetry, and a bit distracted with school now. Not just school. 5 long hours of math in a too-airconditioned (yes it is possible) classroom, soaking up all my brain power and energy. Not to mention the screwy hours. I still stay up because I just can't get to sleep any earlier but I'm having to wake up at 6:00 ... anyway enough of my life if you wanted that you'd be reading my LJ ... so my point is, I've been too drained and lazy to write anything for real. My apologies. Adieu.

Okay so I was scribbling idle words during that ungodly five hours of math (I don't know how they expect someone like me to survive that, seriously), mostly lyrics from Warning (album), then suddenly I started writing something that I'd never heard before. And this one, this one was special, this one came in cursive. BTW if you didn't know the title comes from the Beatles' Strawberry Fields just because it seemed to fit

Living is Easy with Eyes Closed
Sometimes I can't tell
I'm alive anymore
just a shadow of something once human
moving mechanically from day to day
with only my blood to remind me to breathe
It's quite scary
but it is a self-curing fear
that proves to me I am still feeling
shallow and thoughtless,
as ghostly as it seems,
I haven't yet drawn final breath of life
Sometimes I feel like,
just to prove my existance
I have to step back from my life
and close my eyes and hold my breath
when I open them
I am blinded by color
as opposed to the steel grey death
that just filled them
the colors, soon,
will fade to ruin,
their lustre will be gone
and I shall have to breathe again
but now, now I'm alive
with my eyes open

ooh, i love both of those. i can't say i can totally relate to them now, but at one point in my life, i did feel those. now, i'm like cheery and annoyingly perky, but i love those poems anyway!

wow those two are awesome, especially the first one *claps*