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Whatever Is To DoWe were ever so worried
When we found the knotted noose
And scribbled diary entries
With tales of self abuse

Teenage tears and tantrums
Can easily be explained
But what on earth would cause these
Freshly dripped blood stains

We were ever so worried
When you locked yourself in your room
Painted the walls pitch black
And ignorantly we assumed

That this was just a phase
That it would soon come to pass
And pass it indeed did do
Far too soon and far too fast

We were ever so worried
When you dyed black your hair
No longer did we recognise
The child that was once here

Our precious little angel
Where did your shaken bones go
And
The Man Who BurnsI am too sterile and static
I can feel you walking away
Into the arms of the man who burns
But then again why would you stay

He is so young and beautiful
He lives life while I rehearse
Acting upon his desires
While I write about mine in verse

Our love was Russian roulette
Without bullets in the chamber
Passing the gun back and forth
Without any sense of danger

The fire in your heart has gone now
This cliché is not lost on me
Metaphorically I'm the water
That dampened our destiny

You said you would never leave me
But this contract was never binding
I want you to find your freedom
If there's a freedom worth finding

Bey
In Love, I RemainI hold the guitar against me
But I'm afraid it just wont do
No notes that I play could compare
To the symphony that is you

So who is the orchestrator
Of this harmonic elegance
The beauty of which sustains me
With such a lasting resonance

Angels, please sing us a chorus
And paint the clouds so silver lined
May she always dream in colour
And may I always speak in rhyme
One single whispered word from her
Always seems to eclipse my pain
With belief, hope and destiny
Forever in love, I remain

I hold the paintbrush in my hand
Until creative thoughts will cease
But no strokes could ever come close
To your beautiful masterpiece

Ea
StarcrossedWe were found in a pool of blood
Starcrossed lovers in each others arms
Suicide note in your pocket
Your hand grasped tightly in my palm

You were wearing that red dress
Under your overcoat
The rain had fallen hard that day
Distorting the words which you'd wrote:

'Dear cruel world and everyone within
I am leaving you all today
With the only boy I have ever loved
Lay silent here next to me

Nobody understands me
Or heals my wounds like he does
He feels the pain and sadness too
and I think we have suffered enough

No tears should be shed on our passing
As our souls now reside as one
Look for us in the rain dew
Look for us in the
BlindWhen I close my green eyes
If I focus I can see
People and places from my past
Etched in my memory

If a blind man closes his eyes
What can he possibly see
Without any visual images
Stored in his memory

How do I describe colour
To man who is born blind
The same way I describe my love
Within these heart felt rhymes

When I close my green eyes
I use my mind to conjure up
Dreams of the future, based on
Pages already written in my book

If a blind woman closes her eyes
What future can she see
Unable to visualise
Her fate and her destiny

How do I describe colour
To woman who is born blind
The same way I describe my love
Withi
I Was On A CloudI was the boy who remained silent
Through those weeks, months and years
Watching the tide begin to rise
From all of your fallen tears

A tide of insecurity
That in time became so deep
It would set about draining you
Of all the secrets that you keep

I was the boy who remained mute
I watched your life unfold from above
As you were shattered with pain
And given false hope with love

So many times I was tempted
To come and heal my angels pain
But up above in the blue sky
For now at least I would remain

I was the boy who stayed silent
A hush so deafeningly loud
You were never alone though
Princess, I was on a cloud

I watched as a
CryingEverywhere I go I see her face
I never got to touch her soft skin
Tell me how can I mourn the ending
When we were yet to even begin

And please don't you tell me to move on
You really think that I'm not trying?
In truth all that I want right now
Is to get through a day without crying
Writers BlockThere is a heart in a ribcage
And a brain sitting in a skull
There is a history that is void
And potential which is null

Just puddles of inspiration
Where the vast ocean once sprayed
An endless tide of moonshine
Swelled upon my parchment page

There's a brain sitting in a skull
There is a heart in a ribcage
There is ink in my fountain pen
But still no words on my page

Just embers of inspiration
Where a great fire once roared
I'll stoke it with those memories
I've been afraid of and ignored
Sharpen Your PencilSharpen your pencil
Dip your pen in the well
Show the world your vision
Through the story you tell

There's no right or wrong
So don't listen to critique
Your story alone is enough
So beautifully unique

And only you can tell it
Your version of events
Write it, sing it, paint it
Release, express and vent

Sharpen your pencil
Dip your pen in the well
And with your own wise words
Those ghosts you will repel

Please be true to yourself
No embellishment required
Every inferno was once
But a flicker of fire

So fan those fiery flames
And refuse to walk in line
As experience will grow
Through the passage of time
Beyond The HorizonWe ran out of our homes
And our dream quelling streets
Until mud under foot
Had replaced the concrete

From suburb to city
On to the countryside
We were running away
But not trying to hide

The world was still spinning
Faster than we could move
Though our hearts were breaking
Our poets' words would sooth

We left a cloud grey town
And in time reached the sea
Our home for so long
Evolution tells me

To the deepest warm blue
From the coolest pitch black
Shackles fell with each stroke
With our dreams still intact

Surrounded by fishes
Guiding us from the deep
Every league of ascent
Reinforced our belief

That it's the world,
Beneath The Ice SheetIt was a lonely cold winter's day
Not cold enough to freeze the leaves
But cold enough that as I exhale
It made visible this air that I breathe

The frozen grass around the pond
Creaks under my lead weight feet
Only fog alone will now obscure
What lies beneath the ice sheet

Are mine the only eyes to see her
Why is she still in her night clothes
Will she not be cold alone down there
Perhaps she has long since froze

And if so how does she talk to me
Knowing exactly how I think
Staring so long into her face
One day I'm sure I saw her blink

It was a lonely cold winter's day
I'd been here many times before
My parents told me to st
Free Your Mind, Lose ControlPut down all of your books
Open your troubled mind
Leave the cell-like classroom
And feel the warm sunshine

Beating down from above
On your beautiful skin
Forget all you have learnt
Let your journey begin

Breathe the air on green hills
Open eyes to blue sky
They tried to hide the truth
But with no alibi

Are you just a product
Of wistful memories
Or is there still some time
To change your destiny

Tether your torrid thoughts
Silence those languid words
That pollute your young mind
Instead choose to observe

The beauty that surrounds
Nature is your mother
Wisdom is your father
Creation your lover

The world outside your doo
Note MeThey found my love hanging
By a rope from a tree
With a note in her pocket
That was addressed to me

The stains of her tears
On the ripped out blank page
Evidence to my eyes
Of an emotional pain

The last tears she would shed
The last anguish she'd feel
The deepest cut to her heart
This time would not heal

And nor did it need to
Her earthly shackles left behind
Time now has no meaning
And meaning now has no time

Unfolding the piece of paper
Even the fresh air suffocates
Scribbled down , hurried scrawl
'if you're reading this, you are too late'

I fall to the floor frantic
Clutch the note to my face
Trying to catch my love
The Butterfly JarIn her hand was a little jar
With a butterfly shaped motif
Small enough to fit in her palm
Large enough to hold her beliefs

And all of the hopes and the dreams
And the harrowing memories
She promised one day to reveal
The contents of the jar to me

Protected by the butterfly
Her secrets remained safe and sound
Each echoing in their own space
As there was no one else around

The winged beauty remained loyal
As the days like clouds floated by
It too was once a caterpillar
That never dreamt it could fly

Now like a butterfly she'll escape
From her chrysalis-like mind
She will shed all of her sorrows
Underneath the silken sunshine
The Unread BookYou only see the outline
Please take a closer look
I am the silhouette
I am the unread book

Letters and words within me
Arranged in such a way
This narrative keeps the readers eyes fixed
To the words that I say

Evoking an array of emotions
From the first page to the last
Keep you from putting me down
Chapter to paragraph

Heroes and heroines
Acting out in fictional arenas
Facts and figures educate
And quench lifes thinkers and dreamers

The feel of my page on your fingers
The scent that lies within
They judge me on my appearance
Before the first chapter even begins

So I remain on the shelf
Slowly gathering dust
Nowadays t
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More from *Rifle1980

Note MeThey found my love hanging
By a rope from a tree
With a note in her pocket
That was addressed to me

The stains of her tears
On the ripped out blank page
Evidence to my eyes
Of an emotional pain

The last tears she would shed
The last anguish she'd feel
The deepest cut to her heart
This time would not heal

And nor did it need to
Her earthly shackles left behind
Time now has no meaning
And meaning now has no time

Unfolding the piece of paper
Even the fresh air suffocates
Scribbled down , hurried scrawl
'if you're reading this, you are too late'

I fall to the floor frantic
Clutch the note to my face
Trying to catch my love
CryingEverywhere I go I see her face
I never got to touch her soft skin
Tell me how can I mourn the ending
When we were yet to even begin

And please don't you tell me to move on
You really think that I'm not trying?
In truth all that I want right now
Is to get through a day without crying
Reality BitesReality bites
Where as he tore shreds
From the pristine pages
Of the book you once read

A promise of a Prince
And of a fairytale
On those lonely nights
Serving to regale

And offer some solace
In times of despair
When hope felt as distant
As the love you once shared

Your book was unique
Though you try to replace
The words and the images
But you still see his face

Suffocated by life
Each breath hard to find
A broken, tarnished heart
In tumultuous times

Reality bites
But with your pride still intact
Maybe now is the time
That for once you bite back
The Man Who BurnsI am too sterile and static
I can feel you walking away
Into the arms of the man who burns
But then again why would you stay

He is so young and beautiful
He lives life while I rehearse
Acting upon his desires
While I write about mine in verse

Our love was Russian roulette
Without bullets in the chamber
Passing the gun back and forth
Without any sense of danger

The fire in your heart has gone now
This cliché is not lost on me
Metaphorically I'm the water
That dampened our destiny

You said you would never leave me
But this contract was never binding
I want you to find your freedom
If there's a freedom worth finding

Bey

Featured in Groups:

:iconwritten-from-within: #written-from-within
Written From the Soul :iconwriteaway: #writeaway
Find Your Inner Voice :iconemo-club: #Emo-Club
+ Emo Love + :icondark-emotions: #Dark-Emotions
DarkART :iconbleedingheartspoetry: #BleedingHeartsPoetry
A Poetry Club :iconthepoetryofda: #ThePoetryofDA
DA Poetry Club :iconpoetry-book: #poetry-book
 :iconwriters4life: #Writers4Life
Writers Welcomed

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August 17, 2012
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Bi-Polaroid

:iconrifle1980:

Will you take a Polaroid picture
And shake it in your hand
As you wait for it to develop
Please try to understand

That my smile might as well be painted
My tears photoshopped out
I'll add a caption on the reverse
So there will be no doubt

That I swing low like a pendulum
In a grandfather clock
That I fly high as a soaring kite
With each tick and each tock

Will you take a Polaroid picture
And hold me in your hands
As you wait for me to develop
Please try to understand

There'll be days when I'm as cold as ice
I'll thaw myself for you
And those things I said with aggression
I will try to undo

You should take me in to a dark room
And shake me till its clear
The love I show you is very real
The hate just comes from fear
:iconrifle1980:
not about myself but based on a friend of a friend :)
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:iconkbeth:
~KBeth Sep 19, 2012  Student General Artist
A very clever title, I must say. =) I love the way you contrasted the highs and the lows, you really did a good job of painting the picture.
Reply
:iconrifle1980:
*Rifle1980 Sep 19, 2012   General Artist
:) thank you

sometimes i come up with a title but that is all lol on this occasion i managed to write a poem too :)
Reply
:iconmimzy-jm:
~Mimzy-JM Aug 30, 2012  Hobbyist Writer
You said it.
Reply
:iconrifle1980:
*Rifle1980 Aug 31, 2012   General Artist
:) thanks for taking time to read and comment
Reply
:iconmimzy-jm:
~Mimzy-JM Aug 31, 2012  Hobbyist Writer
Of course!
Reply
:iconemperorhadrian:
~EmperorHadrian Aug 25, 2012  Hobbyist Traditional Artist
Beautiful work. I could definitely hear this as music in my head.
Reply
:iconrifle1980:
*Rifle1980 Aug 26, 2012   General Artist
thank you :) I suppose i write all the poems in my head a little like i would do songs :)
Reply
:iconemperorhadrian:
~EmperorHadrian Aug 26, 2012  Hobbyist Traditional Artist
You're welcome. Well, a lot of songs come from poetry -- heck, they are poetry -- so that makes perfect sense. =)
Reply
:iconrifle1980:
*Rifle1980 Aug 26, 2012   General Artist
:) yeah and i love bands and musicians who put alot of effort into lyrics, so its not just about the music. Sometimes in music the words seem like nonsense written down and wouldnt work really as a poem. I like it when you can write the lyrics down and they do look like a poem :)
Reply
:iconemperorhadrian:
~EmperorHadrian Aug 26, 2012  Hobbyist Traditional Artist
Indeed. Some songs just aren't good, whether effort is put in or not. I suppose it really depends upon the audience and whether or not the message is being conveyed, because that is what art is all about: conveying/expressing some sort of message (with flair).
Reply
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