[x]

AstrologicalI have lost myself to
Venus & Mars,
tangled in their mismatched limbs.

Just dream dust & shattered prayers
begging for a new set of skin
(she can't remember where she orbits).

Pluck these fractured wings;
the Sun & Moon no longer ache
to see me fly in their luster.

lies, she wrotei. just a mimicry, really;
uncompromisingly
desperate to shine.

ii. counterfeit & clockwise,
tasting words on her
unworthy tongue.

iii. with a dysfunctional mind
& apocryphal dictionary,
she cannot clone it all.

iv. "say anything," the pen
whispers as she trembles
among ink-scented fraudulence.

v. but she just laughs & plays the part,
forgetting what the pages told her:
"truth is stranger than fiction."

The Pen, The SwordJust lovely
I was happy to fall asleep
in the welcoming arms of your words and
you were unaware that you held me
so close, and so carefully
from the moment I didn't hear you speak
to the taste of every sentence you spoke
I knew you were the very truth that I'd
been seeking all along
Just barely
I was loathe to fall so deep
in the sharpened edges of your words and
you were too aware that you had me
so close, and so carelessly
from the second I heard you break
to the taste of every sentence you broke
I knew you were the very truth that I'd
been avoiding all along

False EternityDisillusioned youth was less common in those days,
I assure you, the people even more set in their ways,
murderous and unforgiving, yet unaware of the lie they were living
convinced that faith is stone, they cut faces into gods, they thought
ignorant that being made rendered useless the very gods they wrought.
Shiny carvings into stone, faces, figures, blessed unknown,
Murders, slaughters, sacrifices of the weak, preaching sins and what they seek.
Forgiveness is not for all, all who do not have will now fall!
Greed consumes the mortal mind, rage is all that's left behind!
Amidst it all I rose and found the sun, disowned him for the moon
then sought the horizon, again and again warned my father that doom
would befall him if he didn't seek a better way to live and be
I wasn't willing to follow the dark and deadly rules,
trying to bring some light into the lives of these fools.
Guilds of anti-gods were formed, wars rose higher, nothing to atone!
They all represen

Death of the PoetDear poetry,
This is your challenge,
my eternal chore,
to restate the truth
like never before-
but I’m imperfect
at my very core
and hypocrisy
is what I abhor
so you may expect
my work to be poor
enough for me to
be crushed into gore
with failed attempts
to take wing and soar
when all I wanted
was something much more
than emptiness and
inherited war
and pointless details
of imagined lore
which most of us tend
to simply ignore
at the piercing sound
of a lion’s roar
or the convenience
of a nearby store…
what am I truly
writing these words for?
Let’s merely pretend
that this isn’t me
but the voice of God
or L. Ron Hubbard
or whoever you
wish for it to be
since facts remain facts
no matter the source,
no matter the cause,
since the trustworthy
are also humans
prone to failure;
so prone to a fault
that we hold dearly-
the sum of our faith
measured in dollars-
rewarded by credit
and paper money…
for some odd reason
I find this funny!
So I conclude

ArrheniusThe birds are
keeping to themselves
this evening
as the earth shifts
slightly-
ever so calmly
(for when you are
this powerful
you only have
to move).

Here and there, I
witness these
beautiful strangers
with perfect bodies
and long hair
walking down the road
in tightly knitted packs.
They are animals
like we are animals-
like we are
animals without
claws and fur,
with scratches on our
skin that yields to
fragile and
familiar hands.

The winds respond
as quiet birds rush
from telephone wires
in panic and
in beauty; she
tries to brush the hair
dancing circles in her eyes
(for when you are
this powerful
you only have to move).

False ProphetsPoems and love songs breed dead dreams,
strangled by weeds, face down in the ground
with no roses to mourn them.

Singers are poets that croon
(if you happen to lose your little heart to their tune)
and poets are false prophets -
true love will last forever
if they care to write it,
but not if you swallow the lines...

yet, they always do.

We all have a place
set for us in the shade
in our own private garden of weeds.

False eternityDisillusioned youth was less common in those days,
I assure you, the people even more set in their ways,
murderous and unforgiving, yet unaware of the lie they were living
convinced that faith is stone, they cut faces into gods, they thought
ignorant of the fact that being made rendered useless the very gods they wrought.

Shiny carvings into stone, faces, figures, blessed unknown,
Murders, slaughters, sacrifices of the weak, preaching sins and what they seek.
Forgiveness is not for all, all who do not have will now fall!
Greed consumes the mortal mind, rage is all that's left behind!

Amidst it all I rose and found the sun, disowned him for

Psychotic ramblingsI, in the eternal void rest,
Am the unwanted thirteenth guest,
Insane, deranged and psychotic,
There are people who even call me sick.

Isn't it joyful and greedy to demand
A sacrifice of strangulation at the reach of the hand?
Cure the poisoned in a prison built of mental sand.

Murder is the solution brought by the resolution.
Is this the final, one and only conclusion?
Better think again, there will be no retribution.

Death is not the liberation, just the beginning.
Is there eternal peace? The solution is sinning.
Unacceptable lies become the truth, the chaos keeps spinning.

VoicesDo you hear the moan of morning rhymes
By the people in their endless time
As the morning dew breaks the day
Back to where the city-lights once laid

The lamp-posts are filled with black starlight
As the children run in their flight
With cries of sorrow, cries of pain
The old houses creaking with disdain

Acidic puddles of blood-wet tears
Remain on the street through all these years
As the cracks have hid the crumbled dust
Within these roads of bone and rust

The melody of the birds is lost
To the screeches and screaming loss
There are people cowering in the dark
Murmuring, whispering their tortured remarks

Flames ignite the world in fire

WakefulI remain awake with dreams on my mind
and stories that wait to be knit into books.
To never find comfort until my pillows are
stuffed with thoughts instead of feathers
To never let go until I made sure that
the moon smiled back at me
Until the trees, the grass, and every night creature
has whispered good night...
And yet I'm still as wakeful as an owl
afraid that sleep would somehow
grab my neck and drag me to my grave.

Lovers and assassinsNight
walk

bad nightmy mistakes are on my head,
and the cigarettes taste like metal;
on the street curb of a suburban block,
the lights jaundiced and flickering
like drunken fireflies, your reflection
that emanates from me covers every face.

HumanDear Hypocrite,

What do you do?
Throwing insults when you're insulted.

Dear Coward,

Where went you?
To your "peaceful" sanctuary you have bolted.

Dear Liar,

What say you?
Your poison corrupts innocent ears.

Dear Human,

What are you?
A sinner trapped in endless tears.

Watercolor PainWhen you smile,
I turn colorblind.

It turns into a somersault
whenever I gain contact
with your skin,
bare back touching
bare back.

But I'm not hungry
for bedposts.

I just want to
savor each moment your arms
lock into mine,
the romanticism of
the moons in my eyes
and the skies in your words.

There's smoke
behind all those hues
of hazel and your fingers
are porcelain,
but I still love you.

Browse More Like This

Download File
TXT, 2.2 KB more ▶

More from ~apatheticFlighter

View Gallery · View Prints

Featured in Groups:

Not currently featured in any groups.

Details

Submitted: February 24
File Size: 2.2 KB

Link

Thumb

Statistics

Comments: 13
Favourites: 3 [who?]
Views: 111 (1 today)
Downloads: 1 (0 today)

[x]

Poem by a socially awkward person

by ~apatheticFlighter, Feb 24, 2013, 3:08:23 PM
Literature / Poetry / Human Nature / Free Verse

Sorry to all the people

Who think I'm just being rude

And sorry to everyone I know

That think I might be in a mood

It really is not my intention

To come off being cold as ice

I really have a hard time with people

Who just randomly act nice

The few friends that I have

I've had since I was very little

So it's easier for me to talk to them

Than the people I've met in the middle

I hardly ever talk to boys

Or people who are older

I have an even harder time

With the people I admire

My words are few and soft spoken,

And for that I apologize

Holding conversations

It's not something in which I specialize

My introverted nature

May in fact be terrible case

But I'll try as hard as I can

To talk and keep up in pace

Once you get to know me

And see what I'm all about

You almost don't notice how quiet I speak

Or the weird stuff I talk about

I'm always hoping for new friends

But just can't speak my mind

It hurts when I see a group of people

And I get left behind

Maybe it's blessing

That I mainly keep to myself

But sometimes all that I can think

Is I'd rather be someone else

So here's a little poem

Sorry I can't really rhyme

And sorry if I seem self obsessed

By the times I've written down, "I."

And thank you to the people

Who really do try their best

I'm afraid I'll never be anything more

Than a mute, undeserving pest

So when you see me all alone

Whether in a room or under the sun

Please remember kindly

That I'm a socially awkward person

Poem by a socially awkward personby ~apatheticFlighter

Literature / Poetry / Human Nature / Free Verse

So in person, I'm REALLY quiet and extremely socially awkward.
I've been homeschooled all my life, so I don't really know how to talk to people very well
I have little to no confidence in myself, and so I can't really talk to people ever |D

I wrote this for all the people I know who may not like me because of how awkward I am, and the ones who try their best to engage me in conversations.

And for all of the other socially awkward people out there, just keep in mind that although we can't socialize very well, we are the masters at dead-end conversations.

~~love 0 0~~

joy 1 1

~~wow 0 0~~

~~mad 0 0~~

~~sad 0 0~~

~~fear 0 0~~

~~neutral 0 0~~

~kelpiehunterkai Mar 4, 2013 Hobbyist Artisan Crafter

I graduated homeschooling, loved it, but people said the sme things about me. They said I was quiet and "rude" because I was homeschooled, but in reality I never spoke to anyone in public school either. I didn't dislike anyone, I simply had nothing to say, so I simply smiled. I spoke incesantly to my close friends and loved to make new ones, but they had to see through my silence first. Now im a cashier, and I have no problem talking to anyone, I smile all the time and people tell me I'm the friendliest person at the store. So don't worry. I was not self confident either, but I found strength in my friends. In time, I went to college and told myself every first class day "today I will make a friend" so I would seek out the more quiet person in class and talk to them. I ended up making some of the best friends of my life that way. And guess what, It ended up they were all homeschooled. except one. I had to let that one go, she turned out to be a pshyco... O.O but she told me that she was glad she had met me and that I had helped her. So I didn't feel bad about not returning the phonecalls - completely... In time even those who were quieter than me came out of their shells. We all fed and fed off of eachothers growing self confidence, and now we are all able to just walk up and talk to people. embrace your oddness! be unappologetically you and people will come to like you. the ones that don't, don't matter

~apatheticFlighter Mar 4, 2013 Student Digital Artist

Thank you for the comment! ^^
I really enjoyed reading it c:

~DeathRuby Feb 24, 2013 Student

Ah, this poem is so simple, yet it's meaning is very deep. I love the way you expressed your emotions in such a way it made me feel like i was delving into your mind, which was probably your intention.

Since i was little i was very energetic, making friends easily and i'd love to be around them. But there was a period in my life where i'd just stay and glare at everyone, not caring for anyone else, and people were frightened by me and always looked away when i was near them. I always sat by myself then, and the only people willing to sit next to me and join me in their games were my two best friends. They could tell that something was wrong, and when i was on the verge of crying, even though they didn't know, they'd walk up to me and just hang out with me.

I cherish them greatly~

~apatheticFlighter Feb 24, 2013 Student Digital Artist

Best friends are a blessing ^^
Thanks for commenting!

~DeathRuby Feb 25, 2013 Student

Yes they really are~
And you're very welcome, i'm happy you shared this poem with us~~

~apatheticFlighter Feb 25, 2013 Student Digital Artist

Thanks ^^

~DeathRuby Feb 25, 2013 Student

You're welcome~~

~TheMirakuloidProject Feb 24, 2013

I feel like I wrote it...QwQ
It's beautiful.

~apatheticFlighter Feb 24, 2013 Student Digital Artist

Thanks, Mira ^^

~TheMirakuloidProject Feb 24, 2013

You're welcome. OwO

More from ~apatheticFlighter

Featured in Groups:

Details

Statistics

Poem by a socially awkward person

Poem by a socially awkward personby ~apatheticFlighter

The Journal Portal

Polls

What is your preferred drawing software?

deviantART [dee·vee·un'nt·ART]

Keep in Touch!

Deviousness

Add Media

Style