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hi, i post originally-created poetry! just for fun ^_^

[meilire]

Endings

There are earwigs in our basement.

Their carcasses line the hallway.

They’re small, brown and cold.

I see dead people.

--

a pretty old poem of mine. i’m not quite sure how satisfied i am with the ending, but i really like the first three lines.

[meilire]

Toothless Joe

Toothless Joe.

Man, is he happy!

Holey vampire: bloodied.

But man, is he happy!

I am not bloodied,

(Man, am I happy!)

But what I wouldn’t give...

Man, to be happy.

[meilire]

respirez

Parfois,

Quand je monte

Les écailles de l'école,

Et je parvenis à

Le troisième étage,

Je vois

Un autre

Escalier.

Ça monte à

Les fenêtres.

L’air et

Le verre et

Le lumiere,

Et je voulais

Dormis. 

--

a poem i wrote in french. i am not fluent in french, so it’s not very good but i did my best to write it without help. my french teacher thought the ending was very funny, which was not quite the vibe i was going for, but that’s okay. at least she liked it.

[meilire]

Optative Mood

Shall I lie here until I die?

What would it be

To watch the snow alight on tall grass?

They would have to mow around me.

Lord, bear me strength.

I have homework due.

--

this is probably the best poem i’ve written. i wrote it lying in the grass, thinking about all the homework i had to do that i very much wasn’t doing.

[meilire]

sparks?

Hard is always harder

In the present than in the future.

Nothing is as sweet

As relief right after pain.

One time, I didn’t notice

Until after it had passed,

And it didn’t seem fair -

I had to suffer once again.

People tell you to use suffering

To rise up even higher,

But I’m so tired all the time.

At least I drink a lot of water.

--

a criticism on platitudes, i wrote this poem to try and express the inescapability of pain. i feel like people often talk about strength and suffering without understanding the magnitude of each feeling.

[meilire]

a rondeau

In one man’s mind, the whole world grows -

Whether in piles or in neat rows.

Whether he cares or not, it’s there

Interpreting the empty air,

Bringing sorrow, pain and strife.

It might not mean a thing, he knows.

But he can’t help but love, and shows

The things he feels and might beware

In one man’s mind.

Sometimes it rains, and he slows.

Sometimes the sun harshly glows.

He doesn’t cry but still despairs

And through the universe he tears

Thought and fear and always one life

In one man’s mind.

--

i wrote this poem back in ninth grade, and it is one of the few poems i’ve written that isn’t freestyle. i’m still rather proud of it.

[meilire]

last friday

He said it was his first time

Crying himself to sleep:

When he had trouble singing

The baritone part.

I wonder if last Friday

Was his second time.

I hope last Friday

Was his second time.

--

this was written after i broke up with my first boyfriend. it was a very naive relationship: we were barely out of middle school, non-compatible, and not knowing what a real relationship was. i decided to end it after seven months, but i am still grateful for what i learned and he and i are still good friends.

[meilire]

not all those who are lost, wander

The man at the gelato shop gave us two macarons for free

One that was broken and

One that didn’t sell well

We promised to come back when we were rich,

Which made him laugh

They were two different kinds of delicious

The man on the bus gave up his seat so we could sit together

He had glasses and

A long nose

We sketched him on a piece of paper so we’d never forget

Those melancholic eyes

His bag said, “Not all those who wander are lost”

--

this poem was written after my friend and i went to downtown provo. we always go in the morning to get kolaches, and then we go to the used bookshop, the record store, the antique shop and the dozens of other small restaurants and boutiques. it’s one of my favorite places to be.