#33

Anne's Truest Confession

I smiled and told them,
"Think of all the beauty still left
around you and be happy."
Inside of myself, I was shuddering
from the cold that I felt, within my heart.
I never spilled the black ink
that resides within my veins, instead
I tiptoed them blue, in the hushed
thoughts of concentration.
Captured within those small
walls, I begged for them not
to take me, not to peel the
flesh from my bones.
I allowed Typhus to rape my body,
so that I could thrive in my
eternal home.

This was my attempt at confessional poetry. I like some of it, but I feel that it needs to be developed more. Does anyone have suggestions on how I could do this?

#32

I Crave Your Mouth, Your Voice, Your Hair

I crave your mouth, your voice, your hair.
Silent and starving, I prowl through the streets.
Bread does not nourish me, dawn disrupts me, all day
I hunt for the liquid measure of your steps.

I hunger for your sleek laugh,
your hands the color of a savage harvest,
hunger for the pale stones of your fingernails,
I want to eat your skin like a whole almond.

I want to eat the sunbeam flaring in your lovely body,
the sovereign nose of your arrogant face,
I want to eat the fleeting shade of your lashes,

and I pace around hungry, sniffing the twilight,
hunting for you, for your hot heart,
like a puma in the barrens of Quitratue.

~Pablo Neruda

Seriously, this guy was amazing. I could post his poems all day. It's somewhat strange but I find myself comparing this piece with those of Sylvia Plath's. It has that haunting quality to it. It stays with the reader long after it has been read, whispering strange whispers into their minds.

#31

Where the Sidewalk Ends by Shel Silverstein

There is a place where the sidewalk ends
And before the street begins,
And there the grass grows soft and white,
And there the sun burns crimson bright,
And there the moon-bird rests from his flight
To cool in the peppermint wind.

Let us leave this place where the smoke blows black
And the dark street winds and bends.
Past the pits where the asphalt flowers grow
We shall walk with a walk that is measured and slow,
And watch where the chalk-white arrows go
To the place where the sidewalk ends.

Yes we'll walk with a walk that is measured and slow,
And we'll go where the chalk-white arrows go,
For the children, they mark, and the children, they know
The place where the sidewalk ends.

I was thinking about changing one of my poems because I was so inspired by this one. I really appreciate the way she uses color to create imagery and hope to accomplish this in my own work.

#30

In a box

Their leathery skin
worn, abused,
with deep gashes
caked in mud

cold and alone
abandoned
left to rot in darkness
Their souls corroded

~ Author Unknown

Love, love, love this! This poem exhibits extraordinary attention to detail. I think we could all learn something from this piece. Comment and tell me what you think about it.

#29

May

by Sara Teasdale

The wind is tossing the lilacs,
The new leaves laugh in the sun,
And the petals fall on the orchard wall,
But for me the spring is done.

Beneath the apple blossoms
I go a wintry way,
For love that smiled in April
Is false to me in May.

Ready for the weather of spring. I'm sad that spring break will soon come to an end but at least
I'm able to post this poem in which I love so much.

#28

To the tune of Gloria Gaynor's - 'I Will Survive'....

First I was afraid, I was petrified
I could feel a strange commotion deep in my backside
I had spent so many nights trying to contain the pong
But I grew strong
And my arse burst into song
And so my gas
Had come to pass
As long as I know how to fart the world can kiss my ass
I got all my life to live
I got all my wind to give
It's fun to fart
It's fun to fart

~Katy

It's spring break! Just having a bit of fun.

#25

Just Remember

When everything is over and gone, remember me.
When our hearts are left without a song, remember me.

I wish you well for all of your days, whether we're together
or apart you will always belong in my memories, remember me.

No matter how frail our minds might become
my love for you wills always be strong, remember me.

I hope our friendship last throughout our life's time
but if it does not I long for you to please, remember me.

If you and I age quickly and our minds begin to waver
in and out of reality, prolong forgetting, remember me.

When you can no longer withstand losing memories,
losing us, I will be there chanting on, remember me?

My attempt at a ghazal stinks. Help anyone.