Wicked Poetry

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Comment by Spicewolf on July 11, 2011 at 12:03am

Stay Away


Stop trying to break down my walls.
Stop trying to unlock the door
I never wanted you to make me fall.
But now I'm yours.

Please don't look at my heart,
Its not pure like yours.
Its not sweet like a fruity tart.
And I don't believe there is a cure,

That can help heal those scars.
So please don't even try.
Just..just stay away.
Please go away..I don't want you to see me cry,

Because I am broken.
So don't try to see how i feel
When I don't want you to understand
the scars that I carry, the ones that never healed..

Your pushing into my heart...


And I Can't TAKE IT ANYMORE!
STOP! Stop Trying to break down the door.
STOP Trying to heal my wounds.
Please I beg of you just leave them alone.


Please Just Stay Away From My Heart..

Comment by Komrad Wayne on July 9, 2011 at 6:37pm

Through the eyes of the dead

Life is truly seen

Walking, staggering alone, lost

No thoughts, no feelings

Empty shell

We gaze upon this creature

Looking down with noses up

ignnoring our fate, as our time stumbles near

The eyes of the dead see clearly

while the living are blind.

 

I didnt put much thought into this one, just sort of winged it off the top of my head...

Comment by Komrad Wayne on July 5, 2011 at 11:11pm

This is a poem called Elena, by Pat Mora

Elena

My Spanish isn`t good enough
I remember how I`d smile
Listening my little ones
Understanding every word they´d say,
Their jokes, their songs, their plots
Vamos a pedirle dulces a mama. Vamos.
But that was in Mexico.
Now my children go to American High Schools.
They speak English. At night they sit around the
Kitchen table, laugh with one another.
I stand at the stove and feel dumb, alone.
I bought a book to learn English.
My husband frowned, drank more beer.
My oldest said, 'Mama, he doesn´t want you to
Be smarter than he is' I´m forty,
Embarrased at mispronouncing words,
Embarrased at the laughter of my children,
The grocery, the mailman. Sometimes I take
my English book and lock myself in the bathroom,
say the thick words softly, for if I stop trying, I will be deaf
when my children need my help.

Comment by Spicewolf on July 5, 2011 at 1:55am

I write poems...a lot. I've only posted 3 on Wicked Zombie and those are on my blog..XD since i'm too lazy to post em on here please look at my blog for them..Or i might post em on here now idk >.< I'm excited to read other people's poem's and to hear wat they think of mine So thank you Komrad for making this group and inviting me :D

Comment by Komrad Wayne on July 1, 2011 at 4:03pm

Ill begin with one of my favorites by Tupac Shakur, yes he was one of the greatest rappers of all time, but he is also an outstanding poet:

 

The Rose That Grew From Concrete
Did you hear about the rose that grew
from a crack in the concrete?
Proving nature's law is wrong it
learned to walk without having feet.
Funny it seems, but by keeping it's dreams,
it learned to breathe fresh air.
Long live the rose that grew from concrete
when no one else ever cared.

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