O Apollo, Why must you confuse me for a nymph? You chase after me, Lust in your eyes, But you turn into a narcissus flower when I cut my hair. I'm only a reflection in the pond that you chase after. You're pride. You're vanity. Even Artemis was better at the hunt and knew better than to let love in. What must I do so you don't drown? Must I disappear? Must I show you that it's your reflection? Stop the chase. I'll never cave and break the glass. O Apollo, See me not as a nymph But as a nymph and satyr.
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O Venus
O Venus, As the somber drums echo my heavy feet During the plight of wilted roses To which gray fog lingers against my skin, I pray to you, O Venus, Let your red arrows strike Softer than lightning; Let the silky white doves fly High in the blue heavens. O Venus, I wither away from gaiety; Into moiety, I become. As petals crumble, And the thunder rolls, O Venus, I know not what might come, For the clouds defeat the sun, The night eats the moon, And the waters rise before noon. O Venus, Take pity on me. I may not all be the Helen of Troy, But grant solace on me, a Hestia, A quiet voice and not by choice, O Venus.
Again
There’s a tide in your eyes, and several hundred reasons why
I should simply say goodbye as I look into the tide in your eyes.
But there’s in the tide in your eyes that I can never deny,
so I give it a try …
Again.
I’m falling
Again.
Catch me,
I’m falling.
Again.
There’s a song from your lips, romantic like a kiss.
I know ignorance is bliss, so I don’t let you miss
the song on my lips, calling for your kiss,
filling me with bliss.
Again.
I’m falling.
Again.
Catch me,
I’m falling.
Again.
I think I’m on cloud nine, ’cause this is so divine,
something so sublime, I can hear the bells chime.
There’s a tide in your eyes, and several hundred reasons why
I should simply say goodbye as I look into the tide in your eyes.
But there’s in the tide in your eyes that I can never deny,
so I give it a try …
Again.
I give it a try.
Again.
So, catch me,
I’m falling
Again.
I’m falling.
Again.
Again.
Again.
I think I’m in love with you again.
Shadow
Light fades through the room, drones out the sound, uncertainty looms to the past to which we’re bound.
I can’t feel your heart, but I know that it’s slow, unable to grow, lost in the wind that blow, so …
You fade into a shadow.
You don’t recognize the tears on my face.
Everything we had will
fade away into the empty black space.
I don’t wanna be a shadow,
But you don’t a choice if you do.
I try, and I try. All do is try.
I try to get you as a shadow out of my mind.
I don’t even know why, yeah, even why,
why the end was nigh.
My thoughts intertwine, and the music gets too loud.
I stumble in line, and I fear you’re not proud.
And it’s like,
You fade into a shadow.
You don’t recognize the tears on my face.
Everything we had will
fade away into the empty black space.
I don’t wanna be a shadow,
But you don’t a choice if you do.
Bad News
Don’t bother to get too close.
I won’t be your ideal host.
I’m the fire, the burn, the ember, the spark, the flame, the smoke that’s making you nervous.
You see me around, watching me drown, gray in the frown, walking in town, like I ain’t worth it.
But you’ve heard it.
I’m bad news.
I’m just a rouse
In a game you’re gonna lose.
Yeah, I’m bad news.
I’m the ghost that’s lurking around, don’t make a sound, lost and not found, so aren’t you proud?
I’m the poison inside, escaping my mind, so out of time, small as a dime, claiming what’s mine.
But it’s time you know:
I’m bad news.
I’m just a rouse
In a game you’re gonna lose.
Yeah, I’m bad news.
patchwork
Look at the stitches across my skin.
Each is one a different pattern:
The teddy bears of infancy and innocence;
The bubbles of childhood and optimism;
The clouds of adolescent darkness;
And the wind of the future.
Look at me.
Am I not proud?
melancholy
Where the water is dry,
Where the fire is wet,
A river of tears stream from my eyes.
Where the sun is dark and gray,
and the sky is mucky blue,
I wander with no place to stay.
Where lips curl downwards,
where the only noise is a spark of hatred,
I climb outwards.
To the west of despair,
To the east of endless flares,
To the south of gloom,
To the north of wilted instead of bloomed.
Tides
Why does the sea call me like the rolling tide that pulls me in? Why does the tide need me like thunder needs lightning to create the perfect storm? Why does the storm intrigue me like a million little dots in a collage of abstract art? I am the sea. I am the tide. I am the thunder. I am the lightning. I am the perfect storm. And I am a piece of abstract art.
Legacy
When we fade into the darkness, who remembers us?
Are we nothing more than the dust we return to when our time is up?
I remember when I was young, I dreamed about fame.
I always wanted the whole world to know my name.
Now, my dreams, my visions, my colors are tame.
I think about a legacy, and these words come to mind:
"Legacy. What is a legacy?
It's planting seeds in a garden you never get to see."
If this is all I am,
If I'm meant to be a lamb among wolves,
then I shall turn these wolves into sheep.
This poem is inspired by Hamilton, specifically this quote.
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Abnegation
Abnegation,
Divergent by Veronica Ross
"Lose yourself in the art of selflessness," they say. Lose yourself in the art of forgetting yourself by dedicating your heart to the meek, the poor, the hungry, the homeless, the thirsty, the naked, and the oppressed, for what is better than a life of poverty and self-service? No personality. No flavor. Just gray. Selfless, abnegation gray.
Shakespearian1 