My works - The Anthology of Seasons
-
Hi everyone, I'm new here......
I've been writing poetry since I was 15. Since I'm already 21, this means that I've been writing poetry for the past 6 years.
Do check out my blogging site..... I put up some of my works there.....
I'm not a very good poet... so just grin and bear with me....
http://spiderfudge.blogdrive.com
Meanwhile, here's one of my works:
The Man Who Knows Me
That would be me.
It can only be me
Short yet lanky
Not worth much to look at
Hardly a remarkable sight to behold
Yes, this is me.
Not too much to comment upon in the head
Far being from the smartest person around
A laughable list of physical attributes
A mockery to those who walk
In the pantheon of the warriors of the written word
Yet, this is indeed me.
The only person I can be
For I can be no other.
The story of my life is anything
But a bed of roses
Yet that is the life i want to live.
So, why should I be me?
Some may mock me for who I am
Seeing me as the lesser being
I say let them see me as such
For am I any lesser for being physically weaker
For am I any lesser for not being smarter
It's not easy to be me
Having to have to handle the shadows of times past
The baggage of a thousand memories
The underlying currents of tears
Of frustration
Of sadness
Yet.... I want to be me. -
sorry i can't resist... but is that your... "inner self" crying to be let out?Originally posted by fudgester:Yet.... I want to be me.
-
You could say that.... It's open to interpretation.....
-
Erm... I don't have any comments on this one. One night while I was on duty I was feeling really lonely. As expected, I had a lot of odd thoughts in my head. Thinking about times past and times to come.... I had an outburst of emotions.
No, seriously, I did.
To The Living
Sitting
Thinking
Things might have been
Different
From what
They currently are
Thinking
Feeling
The organ of fire
An everlasting emptiness
Burning passions
Lingering desires
Feeling
Crying
Tears
The stream of the soul
Wherever
It may wish to lead
Crying
Kneeling
Forgiveness
For weakness is
A human attribute
A flaw
Kneeling
Hoping
Granted
It shall be
To the deserving
To the living -
Reading your poems in your blogging site now. Hmm... very interesting.Originally posted by fudgester:Hi everyone, I'm new here......
I've been writing poetry since I was 15. Since I'm already 21, this means that I've been writing poetry for the past 6 years.
Do check out my blogging site..... I put up some of my works there.....
I'm not a very good poet... so just grin and bear with me....
http://spiderfudge.blogdrive.com
Meanwhile, here's one of my works:
The Man Who Knows Me
That would be me.
It can only be me
Short yet lanky
Not worth much to look at
Hardly a remarkable sight to behold
Yes, this is me.
Not too much to comment upon in the head
Far being from the smartest person around
A laughable list of physical attributes
A mockery to those who walk
In the pantheon of the warriors of the written word
Yet, this is indeed me.
The only person I can be
For I can be no other.
The story of my life is anything
But a bed of roses
Yet that is the life i want to live.
So, why should I be me?
Some may mock me for who I am
Seeing me as the lesser being
I say let them see me as such
For am I any lesser for being physically weaker
For am I any lesser for not being smarter
It's not easy to be me
Having to have to handle the shadows of times past
The baggage of a thousand memories
The underlying currents of tears
Of frustration
Of sadness
Yet.... I want to be me.
I like 'Fingers In The Earth', especially the last two senentces
'At least one thing's for sure: I still have a conscience
For this marks the return to innocence.'
Remind me of my Psychology exam. Should have read this earlier, may gain some marks for my paper on human conscience.
-
Dear poets, do take a look at 'Ghost' and 'Greener On The Other Side' too.
Enjoy. -
The grass is always greener on the other side. What I'm saying is, no matter how well your situation may turn out to be, no matter how fortunate you may be, there will always be those who turn out better than you.
One day, when I was in Kanchanaburi, Thailand on a training exercise I found some graffiti on a cupboard. It was anonymously written, of course (who on earth would ever admit to defacing SAF property?). Written in a humourous vein, it talked about the chronicles of some commandos on a training exercise at Kanchanaburi.
That got me thinking.
I don't often write about humour.
I decided to write a simplistic poem in a humorous vein.
I came up with the following:
Greener On The Other Side
We jump from planes and into the air
We rise from the swamps and hit whatever's there
We smile and stand tall as we proudly say
We are the Commandos of the red beret
We slide down ropes from hovering choppers
We slice and dice 'em from light strike rovers
We mock them commandos as we proudly say
We are the Guardsmen of the khaki beret
We walk long distances in heavy battle gear
We just do things even when orders aren't clear
We curse those guardsmen, let's throw them away
We are the Infantry of the green beret
We blast shells into the air and smack them into the ground
We annihilate whoever has the misfortune of being around
We laugh at them all; at the sight of us they run away
We are the Artillery of the blue beret
We carry pink cards and they call us 'mister'.
We have heads full of hair; there's no need for the barber
We tease those NSFs who don't have the right to say
We are the civillians with no beret.