Sonnets and Sestinas

Why must you plague me with your existence?
I never did anything to you.
Yet upon my teachers insistence,
I have to write one of each of you.

I have no quarrel with your limerick brothers,
your free verse uncles or your cousins the haikus.
Your lyrical sisters and your ballad mothers,
never had me singing the blues.

When I think of you I begin to pull my hair out,
starting to feel like a fool.
And as I began to scream and shout,
I know it's because of your many a rule.

Oh, it is the rules that I hate!
This is not the writer's goal.
They compress and constrict, and put up gates
That cage the writers soul.

There is nothing that is worth so much stress,
No truth could be closer on.
But I will not be told how I'm allowed to express,
since that's an oxymoron.

So please do not think any less of me,
because of my little protest.
But I'll never write you, you see,
For it is you I truly detest.

Manifesto

It's not in a poem guys, so try not to be too bored xD


I think poetry needs to come from the poet’s heart. It needs to be unique to the writer and not sound like someone else’s words. Each poem, good or bad, needs to mean something to the poet. Poetry should be able to make connections with people. It should make the reader feel something in themselves and provoke a response in them. For example, the reader could read a poem and feel the poet was trying to speak about human greed. This could cause the reader to try to be less greedy in their life. Even if that wasn’t the poet’s message, the poem still had an impact. The poet’s own message is also important, however, and when expressed well should become clear to the reader and make an impact. The poem should paint a picture in their minds that acts like an optical illusion, always moving and changing, despite technically being only one shape. When the reader looks at this picture in full, they are overwhelmed. When a writer writes a poem, they should be proud, but not so much that they don’t see room for improvement. Poetry should not be confined to a specific form. A writer needs to write what he sees in his mind how he sees it, and not worry about any rules. This is the main problem I have with Sestinas; I’m not saying that they’re bad altogether if that’s how a writer wants to write, but I find their rules to be too confining to write properly. I do believe there should be some basic structure, such as stanzas and form that allows the words to flow well, but not so much that it forces the writer to write a certain way, like the way Sestinas do with stresses on specific syllables or certain words the lines need to end in.

Dancing Girl

In my dreams I see a girl dancing;
When she starts spinning my heart starts prancing,
And I find myself always at her glancing.
It is her I wish to be romancing,
And I can only hope she accepts my advancing.

Her face is different every time,
Sometimes turning on a dime.
The mere sight of her is so sublime.
A flower amongst the common slime,
Her face gives reason to my rhyme.

Eyes on eachother, we long to touch.
Linking our hands, we embrace in a clutch,
and lean against one another as a mutual crutch.
The other dancers dance on, as is such,
But when we're together life is never too much.

I know now I'll never be the same,
As we dance back and forth in a cute kind of game.
She disappears in the morning and I feel such a shame,
Because when I wake I slowly go insane,
At the idea that I still don't know her name.
　
Pretty women come and go
But the one girl I’ll always know
Is forever fixed in my heart, so
I may lose this sense of constant woe,
And my dancing girl will never go.

Clown Face

Why is there a Clown Mask on the wall?
Who put it there? Where did it come from?
Oh, you stapled it to the wall, did you?
Nice move, smart guy!
Just leave it there for a serial killer to find and take a shine to!

Honestlly, I can picture it now:
Interior, high school, midnight.
Man dressed in black wearing large boots trudges down the hall,
his face hidden in shadows.
He bursts into the classroom and looks around.

He spots the Clown Mask and tilts his head in interest.
With surprising grace for such a behemoth,
he removes the mask from the wall and places it on his face.
He spots a student's lost vanity mirror on a desk, takes in his new appearance,
and walks towards the door.

He stops in the frame and seems to be lost in thought.
Slowly lifting his head, he seems to stare directly into the camera;
Breaking the silence, he lets out a maddening, blood-curdling cackle
that echoes through the empty school.
...............I just got chills. Well I'm not going to sleep tonight.

Ramblings of a Drunk Gravekeeper(spiral prompt)

Girth forms many mental limits.

The hounds found a solid show ground upon which fears you chase,

Soon they'll matter then through heart your self smiles.

Sometimes of the warm miracle all find the things you deserve,

Where grey frowns through warm word.

Where great smiles some true warm deserve.

Space

Hello again my little friend,
How are you today?

Looking up again I see.
How can I help but envy you?

For someone so small you dream so big,
And never let anyone say 'you can't'.

You just prattle on with vibrant tenacity,
And reach for the stars.

I only wish I had a shred of your vigor
or your endless optimism.

But for now all I can do is listen on
to you scream for joy as you attain everything you ever wanted.

Silence/Love

Silence is golden.
Gold is number one­.
Number one is someone else`s number two.
Number two is smelly.
Smelly is my breath in the morning.
My breath in the morning is annoying.
Annoying is what Charlie Sheen is getting.
Charlie Sheen is winning.
Winning is doing better than other people.
Other people is what confuses me.
What confuses me are magnets.
Magnets are miracles.
Miracles are found in nature.
Nature is being destroyed by man.
Man is not very super.
Very super is getting out of bed in the morning with a smile.
A smile is a wonderful thing.
A wonderful thing is love.

Love is a bitch.
Deal with it.