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The Way It FeelsI don't write this poem to be
The typical one you'd read.
I wish for you to read it through
As strange as it may seem.

These words are all so mixed and mashed
And have no place at all.
Alone they never prosper but
As one they're not so small.

There is no meaning in this poem
So accept it in this way.
Unless you really find one
And realize what I say.

I'm sitting here at my desk;
It's english class I'm in.
I'm bored and so I start to write
And so this Poem begins:

The lamppost on the street corner
Goes dancing in the lane.
The chair is walking with 5 legs-
No, 4 legs and a cane.

The tree that lives upon the squirrel,
The l

Colorless DeathHer world is teeming with black and white shades
Colors seeming to be absent
All emotion is void and locked away
The chains are callous with a texture that is metallic and iced
She has a vacant feeling in a hole within her chilled, dainty chest
Where this hollow hole is, should that be a heart?

The only indication of any emotion that hasn't been stowed away, is her tears,
She cries alone

She begs for her life to end
Or at least for a new beginning
Her tears run down her subtle face

They fall, dripping from her eyes to imitate minuscule waterfalls,
And they cascade into many streams
Dripping
Dripping
A

Liar you say?
Why don't you explain?
I've never done anything
No wrongful deeds towards you

If you say that as such
Then I really believe
That you are the hypocrite here
Lying your beliefs away

You say that you're my companion
But then turn around only again
Directing attention toward those
That are of the more importance

Maybe I'm the only one who's prideful
Who doesn't understand
But then tell me, tell me
Do you truly comprehend?

Liar, liar set flames afire
Don't you say such misconceptions
They bring me down only to bring you up
On a pedestal of deception

The DragonFrom ancient time long past he rose,
An age man's mind no longer knows,
For pain and ruin is all he sows.
It's Death, he comes again.

With eyes of golden gleaming bright,
To horde all treasures in his sight,
His shadow cast is dark as night,
It's Death, he comes again.

With claw and fang that only maim,
A rush of wings, the heat of flame,
For wealth and life he seeks to claim.
It's Death, he comes again.

He did not come unbidden here,
Cruel heart in man made him appear,
Now arrogance has turned to fear.
It's Death, he comes again.

It's Death, he comes again.

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More from ~Octavias101

Subject of SubversionThe dangers of books
With their war torn pages
Are not just their looks
But the cost of their yearly wages

They are bought at a price
Of blood, sweat, and tears
Each crafted with an insight
But not enough to provide for years

They burn with fires of life
Yet go out with a single breathe
As they lead only to strife
And miles of brotherly death

They fight with their words
To gain a voice amongst others
Amongst the ones that cause useless stirs
And the others that simply smother

The writer has now indoctrinated
The reader is now a rebel
A war now is convoluted
By books' insoluble mettle

There is Writing upon the Bathroom WallThere is writing upon the bathroom wall.

Help me, please,
Help me in this empty misery

Look upon my faded letters
I tried to erase them, I did
But I found my voice within this stall

The knife blade is my friend
No one cares to listen, instead
It's safer to be unremembered

With me and my pen, we write
Upon these ugly green walls
Telling a story to you all

I mean, no one really cares
But maybe someone will understand
Why it is they stare

It's just a depressing mess
So I'm sorry, I'll try to hide
My writing is here but let m-"

Explosion.Dynamite blasts that burst through the air
The sounds of screaming and ripping tears
Within the Boston atmosphere, there is no sun
The city now bustling with life on the run

The shards and glass bits stay within their hearts
Their legs now crumpled, split apart
As they realize the fear that grips their soul
They have nowhere to run, nowhere to go

Boston, oh Boston, with your city lights
It is alright to complain through the night
As below these ridden, ragged streets
There are people hiding underneath

A bomb shelter becomes a home
As scares sweep the streets with a barbed wire comb
For those torn apart peoples
Who find a small hope in t

DrunkardHis lips are raw and ragged
As his cold fingers settle down
Upon this jagged glass bottle

Its poison seeps through his veins
His bloodstream is now tainted
With these alcoholic stains

An elixir, like fiery brandy
That eases him from the pain
Oh how life now feels dandy!

He's falling over and over again
Laughing, now drunk on the curb
With a broken glass bottle in his hand

The glass falls, he stands
And then realizes, as he looks upon the ground
The brutal, cold murder upon his head

I'd rather fall into shards once again...

Nuclear WarfareI feel my ashen lungs
Crumble into nothing but dust
As I breath in the smog
Of foggy death and rust

For charcoal footprints
I walked along, alone
Awaiting the gray time
Of which I find my home

Its walls crash over
The silver tainted dirt
Drifting over charred souls
As each cry out their hurt

These long forgotten ghosts
Follow me with dry smiles,
dry memories, dry tears...
All faded in single file

In these nuclear years.

World AboveThe sun arises upon the snow
Winter, now liquid, has flown
Into this soft, fluorescent sky
However hard did I hope to try

Dancing starlight years did show
And drive the flood my veins now know
Winding around, the clouds did fly
Into the sky's smooth lullaby

And slowly it will turn into...
s
h
a
t
t
e
r
e
d
bits of gold, to be removed.

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Submitted: December 4, 2012
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Charismatic

by ~Octavias101, Dec 4, 2012, 11:16:47 PM
Literature / Poetry / Human Nature / Free Verse

The tender touch of innocence
Flaunts throughout the air
Careless, all without intention

Relaxation of the mind
Allows the individual to come
Seeking what leads to be only dreams

Ignorance of the worldly costs
Soon to follow, what is lost
Now only to resurface once again

To be in such a tender sways
Emotional whirlwinds of new beginnings
Tipping the gusts against the favors

Now only charismatic to the touch
They have become unreachable
Flying higher and higher

They have disappeared into the limbs
Falling leaves have broken
Scattering them across the sky

Now once alive
Now lost forever

Charismaticby ~Octavias101

Literature / Poetry / Human Nature / Free Verse

©2012-2013 ~Octavias101

I only wish I was charismatic sometimes...

Image by *Demonflame

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!skittlehappymatt Dec 5, 2012 Hobbyist Photographer

Hmm...interesting.

Reply

Mood: Delighted

~Octavias101 Dec 5, 2012 Student Writer

thanks for the feedback.

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Mood: Joy

*HanOneSail Dec 4, 2012 Hobbyist General Artist

pretty good, have not seen a good write like this in a while.

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Mood: Affection

~Octavias101 Dec 4, 2012 Student Writer

thank you very much. it means a lot to hear that.

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