Do you write poetry?

[Weather]

Maybe this is corny, but I've seen several people commenting on their writing and how it can help them to process; at the same time, I've seen several threads about poetry. I was just wondering if there was a intersection there and if anyone had any of their writing they would like to share. No published work, obviously, as it could be identifiable.

 

[signifying nothing]

Its not really poetry, but I like to do word association once in a while and see what comes out. My latest:

Severe. Station. Sudden. Sofa. Sentiment. Sickness. Shoulder. Door. Floor. Phase. Base. Plate. Mate. Mat. Fat. Feet. Floor. Boredom. Basin. Difficult. Aided. Made. Faded. Screwed. Booted. Footed. Fingers. Flowers. Goodness. Midnight. Food. Given. Taken. Music. Mash. Miss. Moss. Mess. Moon. Maze. Maelstrom. Tide. Trace. Truncate. Goose. Passive. Pollen. Policy. Permanent. Pressure. Peace. Out.

 

[KickFive]

Hell no. I write short stories though, for much the same effect/purpose, I think.

 

[Okami]

I mainly stick to short stories, but I have written poems before. Well, sort of. They're extremely freeform.

 

[Intheo]

Short stories and poems, yes. It's one way for me to express the pent up angst inside me. Without it, I would go crazier than I am. Freeform poetry is especially good because sometimes I can't get things out when I try to write stories. I get mentally blocked by a need to make it "good."

 

[Weather]

Alright, well, I'll share one of mine. Not my best work, but... whatever; the theme matches the forum. Anyway, I'd actually really enjoy reading any of your work (poetry, flash fiction, whatever) if you want to share.

I didn't understand why no one could see
the splintering bone swelling my skin,
stretching until finally it burst through,
slowly at first, like a grain of sand, right
in the center of my chest. I asked you
to touch it. You ran your finger between
my breasts, shrugged and turned away,
finding nothing. In the morning the sand
was a rock, and by nightfall a heavy boulder.
A few days later when I found
myself buried beneath a mountain of
my bones, one by one rough and
damaged, breaking through my skin,
I was limp, unable to move. You touched
me again, and unable to feel anything
more than my skin, asked me to stand.

 

[VivaldiBR]

I write too, mostly poetry or short texts about my feelings. It gives me a pleasure of writing art and express my emotions.
I cant share anything because i also post them.

 

[W’ren]

I have written poetry and short stories in the past but don't write much these days.

It's like the fire went out of my pen.

 

[MindFrog]

I do but my works aren't that good. I only realized now that i can finally show it to an audience (this site). I'd get bad looks if I show it elsewhere.

 

[Sherri]

No, but love to read.

 

[sufferingalways]

I do but my works aren't that good. I only realized now that i can finally show it to an audience (this site). I'd get bad looks if I show it elsewhere.

Please share. Ps the painting in your avatar is really good. The sad helpless mood is captured well.

To the OP, yes I write poetry too.

I have written poetry and short stories in the past but don't write much these days.

It's like the fire went out of my pen.

I know that feeling.

 

[Sensei]

I dabble a little in poetry, with emphasis on dabble. I mostly write haikus.



Another white pill –

A long moment of silence

A pale winter's day



O how you laughed

When we danced into the fire

Burning like amber



A forbidden song

Echoes in my tortured mind –

The call of the void

 

[signifying nothing]

I have tried to remember some of what I wrote back in my teens:

Away
For a year of my life
I went away.

The sky my only constant,
My only reasons to be:
My thoughts,
My fears,
My memories.

To feel, to live,
I went away.


Untitled
I am unhappy,
But I cannot say why exactly.
There is nothing to confess,
There is no defining moment.

I live only for the dreams the night brings
And the dreams I wish for every day.

I put on my normality
To face the reality
Beyond my door.

 

[DeathBySuicide]

I used to do a bit of poetry, used to help me release some of the pain. Here they are:


A press of the button,
The screen goes dark
Cutting off the sound
Of friends' pleas
For you not to do it
A step towards the hiding spot
You pick the cushion up
You unzip it,
Slowly, gently,
Your hands shaking,
You reach in
Grab the foxglove,
Rip off a piece,
And swallow.
You wait for death.
It never comes.


A war within your mind
Between life and death
You've fought for years
But your energy has been spent
You let go
You're dead
Hopeless
Lifeless
Gone


Is it bad
That I wish
My life was more hopeless?
I'm tired of this,
Bouncing like a ping pong ball
Back and forth
Back and forth
Between life and death
Let my life get worse
Let me have a reason to kill myself
Let me die


Sleep is the worst addiction
The only time you get to take a vacation
Away from your miserable life
But you crave more sleep
Always
You miss the numbness
The lack of feeling
The lack of thoughts
You kill yourself
And finally,
Finally,
Get to sleep
Forever


They ask me whether I'm okay
I think of the scars on my body
I lie
I say yes


I've tried
Everything
All my plans
All failed
I've lost
I'm gone
My life has been ended
By my own hands
I've finally succeeded
For once


They think I'm happy
They think I'm perfect
Little do they know
I cry myself to sleep every night
I imagine myself dying every day
I am empty and numb every moment
I'm a dead man walking
But they don't know
Appearances can be deceiving


I'm sorry
For the pain
For the burden
For the horrors
I've caused
I'm sorry


The tears come forward
Like a tsunami
As I lift the knife
Dig into my wrist
I let the tears fall
Might as well not hold back
In my last few moments


Sometimes
The ones who love you
Can hurt you the most
When trying to help


I seem to do everything on reflex
Like I'm a ghost
Watching my body move
From afar
I want to feel alive again
But I can't
I hate this feeling


I'm hopeless
I'm lifeless
I'm numb
I'm empty
I'm broken
I'm losing
I'm gone
I'm dead


I don't want to live
But I'm scared to die
I'm trapped in the middle
Between two, dark walls
I hate myself
I'm not strong enough
To improve my life
But I'm not brave enough
To end my life
I hate this
I hate everything
I want out


When a car rushes by
I run towards it
Close enough to feel the wind
As it passes
When I walk on a bridge
I lean over the edge
Far enough so that
One strong breeze
Can send me tumbling over the edge
When I open a bottle
I dump out pills
And overdose
Not enough to kill me
But still more than the dosage
Too many
When I use a knife
I cut myself
Cherish the pain
As I feel my fingers
Get sliced into bloody pieces
No more mercifully
Than the vegetables in front of me
This is my life now
Always on the brink of death
Tempting the grim reaper to come
And save me From this hellhole

 

[WhiteDespair]

For our favorite chemical...

NaNO2

Salvation! That lonely bottle aside
Medications and other wellness pills,
Stands at the ready to exert its pride
And mix into inhospitable swill.

A sweet kiss from Rappaccini's daughter,
Barely discernible upon the cheek,
Should enshackled hands prove not to falter
Mixes itself into the noxious drink.

Thus it sits like solemn raven perched
Atop the busts of many held dear
Awaiting the time for life's thirst to quench
And bring ancient enigmas to rear

Should aging find its potency decrease
It could be said that one renewed the lease

 

[signifying nothing]

Untitled updated:

I could sit and stay in one place all day,
The world passes by oblivious.
Even the distant skies avert their eyes,
I am alone.

I am unhappy,
But cannot say why exactly.
There is nothing to confess,
There is no defining moment.
I live only for the dreams the night brings
And the dreams I wish for every day.

Introspective and introverted,
I put on my normality
To face the reality
Beyond my door.

 

[sufferingalways]

I used to do a bit of poetry, used to help me release some of the pain. Here they are:


A press of the button,
The screen goes dark
Cutting off the sound
Of friends' pleas
For you not to do it
A step towards the hiding spot
You pick the cushion up
You unzip it,
Slowly, gently,
Your hands shaking,
You reach in
Grab the foxglove,
Rip off a piece,
And swallow.
You wait for death.
It never comes.


A war within your mind
Between life and death
You've fought for years
But your energy has been spent
You let go
You're dead
Hopeless
Lifeless
Gone


Is it bad
That I wish
My life was more hopeless?
I'm tired of this,
Bouncing like a ping pong ball
Back and forth
Back and forth
Between life and death
Let my life get worse
Let me have a reason to kill myself
Let me die


Sleep is the worst addiction
The only time you get to take a vacation
Away from your miserable life
But you crave more sleep
Always
You miss the numbness
The lack of feeling
The lack of thoughts
You kill yourself
And finally,
Finally,
Get to sleep
Forever


They ask me whether I'm okay
I think of the scars on my body
I lie
I say yes


I've tried
Everything
All my plans
All failed
I've lost
I'm gone
My life has been ended
By my own hands
I've finally succeeded
For once


They think I'm happy
They think I'm perfect
Little do they know
I cry myself to sleep every night
I imagine myself dying every day
I am empty and numb every moment
I'm a dead man walking
But they don't know
Appearances can be deceiving


I'm sorry
For the pain
For the burden
For the horrors
I've caused
I'm sorry


The tears come forward
Like a tsunami
As I lift the knife
Dig into my wrist
I let the tears fall
Might as well not hold back
In my last few moments


Sometimes
The ones who love you
Can hurt you the most
When trying to help


I seem to do everything on reflex
Like I'm a ghost
Watching my body move
From afar
I want to feel alive again
But I can't
I hate this feeling


I'm hopeless
I'm lifeless
I'm numb
I'm empty
I'm broken
I'm losing
I'm gone
I'm dead


I don't want to live
But I'm scared to die
I'm trapped in the middle
Between two, dark walls
I hate myself
I'm not strong enough
To improve my life
But I'm not brave enough
To end my life
I hate this
I hate everything
I want out


When a car rushes by
I run towards it
Close enough to feel the wind
As it passes
When I walk on a bridge
I lean over the edge
Far enough so that
One strong breeze
Can send me tumbling over the edge
When I open a bottle
I dump out pills
And overdose
Not enough to kill me
But still more than the dosage
Too many
When I use a knife
I cut myself
Cherish the pain
As I feel my fingers
Get sliced into bloody pieces
No more mercifully
Than the vegetables in front of me
This is my life now
Always on the brink of death
Tempting the grim reaper to come
And save me From this hellhole

I can relate to some of this.
Life feeling so pointless and being trapped by my mind too. The only escape being sleep.

 

[Deleted member 19276]

Sadly I really don't.
Rhyming things is not my field, but I do wish at times I can express like other, my inner emotions and so on into text.
Very well crafted text with metaphorical meaning behind it.

 

[Phill]

Sometimes I try something in Portuguese. I ain't that good at writing poetry, but it feels good doing so.

 

[Good4Nothing]

I wrote some rock and roll songs in the '90s.
Here's one:

Yah, I'm the world's worst son of a bitch
But I never asked to be like this
And if I could be who you think I should
Well don't you think that I would?
I'm not a self made man
I'm just a victim of circumstance
God must have wanted a tragic comic.
If you could walk a mile in my shoes
Do all the dumb things that I do
I think you'll see that I hate me
Far worse than you do
I don't always mean to do
The mean things that I do
And I'm sorry I hurt you
Sorry I hurt you.