carpediemsunshinee - Hello Poetry

The miners work day in and day out Picking their world of resource throughout Examine and dig, examine and dig Becoming a pattern as they no longer live Examine and dig, examine and dig Looking for necessities the world no longer gives Stiff and swollen their hands will ache Begging for mercy as they're verging a break Examine and dig, examine and dig Finding desolation as they no longer live Examine and dig, examine and dig Destroying the world that was once so big

0

Jan 9, 2015

Jan 9, 2015 at 11:37 PM UTC

Descriptive

The miners work day in and day out Picking their world of resource throughout Examine and dig, examine and dig Becoming a pattern as they no longer live Examine and dig, examine and dig Looking for necessities the world no longer gives Stiff and swollen their hands will ache Begging for mercy as they're verging a break Examine and dig, examine and dig Finding desolation as they no longer live Examine and dig, examine and dig Destroying the world that was once so big

12

I can't see winter as beautiful Within the winter months, the sky turns gray without any remorse. Almost as if it were being overtaken by an outside source of power. The once beautiful blue sky is no more. The sun, that usually stays consistent, is almost unwilling to peek through the damped gray curtain. Like it doesn't want to witness what is happening to the beautiful world it's created. The strongest trees grow bare. Their outstretched limbs snapping and breaking trying to exist. Instead of holding their budding beautiful leaves, they must withstand the heaviness of winter. A glaze of frost and ice cover them, and they are no longer flourishing. They're forced into a kind of remission, waiting for the beauty to return. The ground is frozen. With every step hard and dense, with an echoing crunching sound. Animals no longer scurry about, or sing in the trees. Leaving a loud stillness engulfing the once lively land. Snow will fall and soon cover what is left. Covering our eyes to what has happened. The plants are dying, and our beauty is dwindling. Forced to retreat into our fortresses and force the feeling of discomfort when we go outside. A feeling that otherwise is a feeling of excitement. I can't see winter a beautiful.

0

Dec 29, 2014

Dec 29, 2014 at 12:21 AM UTC

Winter

I can't see winter as beautiful Within the winter months, the sky turns gray without any remorse. Almost as if it were being overtaken by an outside source of power. The once beautiful blue sky is no more. The sun, that usually stays consistent, is almost unwilling to peek through the damped gray curtain. Like it doesn't want to witness what is happening to the beautiful world it's created. The strongest trees grow bare. Their outstretched limbs snapping and breaking trying to exist. Instead of holding their budding beautiful leaves, they must withstand the heaviness of winter. A glaze of frost and ice cover them, and they are no longer flourishing. They're forced into a kind of remission, waiting for the beauty to return. The ground is frozen. With every step hard and dense, with an echoing crunching sound. Animals no longer scurry about, or sing in the trees. Leaving a loud stillness engulfing the once lively land. Snow will fall and soon cover what is left. Covering our eyes to what has happened. The plants are dying, and our beauty is dwindling. Forced to retreat into our fortresses and force the feeling of discomfort when we go outside. A feeling that otherwise is a feeling of excitement. I can't see winter a beautiful.

9

It starts very slowly As slow as the snow that first falls on the top of a mountain The snow keeps falling slowly Each flake of pureness falls and becomes still sitting waiting One single speck of snow that falls on the sondering pile becomes a burden Everything breaks Silence breaks and the sounds of crashing and crackling of sticks and twigs. The trees are taken away by the still pure beauty of mother nature. The silent snow and all of it's stillness becomes a ravishing and destructive force in the matter of seconds Nothing stays still Nothing stays beautiful

0

Dec 12, 2014

Dec 12, 2014 at 8:47 PM UTC

Nothing Stays

It starts very slowly As slow as the snow that first falls on the top of a mountain The snow keeps falling slowly Each flake of pureness falls and becomes still sitting waiting One single speck of snow that falls on the sondering pile becomes a burden Everything breaks Silence breaks and the sounds of crashing and crackling of sticks and twigs. The trees are taken away by the still pure beauty of mother nature. The silent snow and all of it's stillness becomes a ravishing and destructive force in the matter of seconds Nothing stays still Nothing stays beautiful

13

My head ******* aches with all of the thoughts I meant to say bouncing around from skull to skull and bone to bone and my nerves are shot my stomach growls because it's begging for life and i am choosing to ignore everything

0

Dec 8, 2014

Dec 8, 2014 at 8:54 PM UTC

Untitled

My head ******* aches with all of the thoughts I meant to say bouncing around from skull to skull and bone to bone and my nerves are shot my stomach growls because it's begging for life and i am choosing to ignore everything

3

In the woods I trail to see, Sticks and moss and covered trees Still and silent, I hear the wind The grass doesn't move, the trees don't grin Covering where they used to shade, The leaves lay still at their grave I wander deeper and start to run, In search of warmth, a rising run Still and silent, I hear the wind The grass doesn't move, the trees don't grin Clouds roll slowly overhead, Keeping sunlight from being shed I spot a cave and start to explore, As the rain beings to pour Still and silent, I hear the wind The grass doesn't move, the trees don't grin I feel the warmth inside the cave, Protecting me from nature's rage I find the comfort to rest my wears Until I feel that I can bear Still and silent, I hear the wind With dancing grass and trees that grin Birds are perched on each little one, Singing to welcome the emerging sun

0

Dec 7, 2014

Dec 7, 2014 at 7:11 PM UTC

In the Woods

In the woods I trail to see, Sticks and moss and covered trees Still and silent, I hear the wind The grass doesn't move, the trees don't grin Covering where they used to shade, The leaves lay still at their grave I wander deeper and start to run, In search of warmth, a rising run Still and silent, I hear the wind The grass doesn't move, the trees don't grin Clouds roll slowly overhead, Keeping sunlight from being shed I spot a cave and start to explore, As the rain beings to pour Still and silent, I hear the wind The grass doesn't move, the trees don't grin I feel the warmth inside the cave, Protecting me from nature's rage I find the comfort to rest my wears Until I feel that I can bear Still and silent, I hear the wind With dancing grass and trees that grin Birds are perched on each little one, Singing to welcome the emerging sun

24

I am as dead as the first leaves that fell when the temperature started dropping I sit at the bottom of the pile under the hundreds of others that are just like me I am damp and discolored Just like everyone else Except I hold the weight of them all And noticed the least

0

Dec 7, 2014

Dec 7, 2014 at 7:05 PM UTC

Fall

I am as dead as the first leaves that fell when the temperature started dropping I sit at the bottom of the pile under the hundreds of others that are just like me I am damp and discolored Just like everyone else Except I hold the weight of them all And noticed the least

6

Everyone grabs a hold of me all at once Each hand is pulling on my bones and clawing at my skin Digging their nails deeper as I make my way in a particular direction I feel the rough texture of the hands I feel it at all times of day I feel it when I go outside I feel it when I wake up I feel it when I sleep I feel it when I eat I feel it always I'm never without the hands clawing at my existence Dragging me in all of the directions I could go but never leading me to a place I want to be Sometimes they lead me to my bedroom Decorated in all my artwork They sit me down so I have a clear view of my creativity I see the hard work and motivation I had But I never feel any spark Sometimes they lead me to my kitchen and I will look at all the food my body needs They pick out the foods that I desire the most But then I get lead into the bathroom and they kneel me on the cold tile floor with my own hands propping my head above the toilet Often they lead me to school To classes that I listen in that all have the same white walls and same tile floor and I hear all of the teachers saying the same kinds of things That we must prepare for our future You must apply for colleges We have to prepare you for college Your future is now Everything is important You need to do this Without this you won't be successful my stomach gets sick my hands shiver with anxiety I lastly will get lead into my living room To a familiar chair that has a soft feeling of home I notice a stack of pictures and polaroids slightly tanned from age of the memories I've forgotten about and I see my dad I see him smiling while he's holding my brother as an infant A grin so full of happiness that you would never think it could fade Then I get pulled to his house I see him standing there He's thin and gray and his smile has faded I don't get the soft, home feeling Because this isn't home

0

Nov 24, 2014

Nov 24, 2014 at 7:15 PM UTC

Hands

Everyone grabs a hold of me all at once Each hand is pulling on my bones and clawing at my skin Digging their nails deeper as I make my way in a particular direction I feel the rough texture of the hands I feel it at all times of day I feel it when I go outside I feel it when I wake up I feel it when I sleep I feel it when I eat I feel it always I'm never without the hands clawing at my existence Dragging me in all of the directions I could go but never leading me to a place I want to be Sometimes they lead me to my bedroom Decorated in all my artwork They sit me down so I have a clear view of my creativity I see the hard work and motivation I had But I never feel any spark Sometimes they lead me to my kitchen and I will look at all the food my body needs They pick out the foods that I desire the most But then I get lead into the bathroom and they kneel me on the cold tile floor with my own hands propping my head above the toilet Often they lead me to school To classes that I listen in that all have the same white walls and same tile floor and I hear all of the teachers saying the same kinds of things That we must prepare for our future You must apply for colleges We have to prepare you for college Your future is now Everything is important You need to do this Without this you won't be successful my stomach gets sick my hands shiver with anxiety I lastly will get lead into my living room To a familiar chair that has a soft feeling of home I notice a stack of pictures and polaroids slightly tanned from age of the memories I've forgotten about and I see my dad I see him smiling while he's holding my brother as an infant A grin so full of happiness that you would never think it could fade Then I get pulled to his house I see him standing there He's thin and gray and his smile has faded I don't get the soft, home feeling Because this isn't home

53

We all have these ideas in our mind Of things we dream and hope to find We're still and we're silent, as we ponder throughout The lives that we live, as we think we're without We always need more, or we always need less We always need something, that we cannot possess Though without dreams, there wouldn't be life A dream without action, will never suffice

0

Nov 24, 2014

Nov 24, 2014 at 6:40 PM UTC

Motivation

We all have these ideas in our mind Of things we dream and hope to find We're still and we're silent, as we ponder throughout The lives that we live, as we think we're without We always need more, or we always need less We always need something, that we cannot possess Though without dreams, there wouldn't be life A dream without action, will never suffice

8

It starts very subtle with a simple kind of rhythm Then fills the room to the very brim with passion of sound Dancing through my head with such poise and grace It tip-toes down my spine balancing on my vertebrates Makes it way to my throat without hesitation Thus curling my lips into a smile so sweet I close my eyes and drift to sleep

0

Nov 21, 2014

Nov 21, 2014 at 8:18 PM UTC

Play For Me

It starts very subtle with a simple kind of rhythm Then fills the room to the very brim with passion of sound Dancing through my head with such poise and grace It tip-toes down my spine balancing on my vertebrates Makes it way to my throat without hesitation Thus curling my lips into a smile so sweet I close my eyes and drift to sleep

7

We all get stranded out in the field with a routine of things that never yield The happiness we so deservingly seek Turns mundane and makes us weak We snip and cut at everything warm Until our bones will show what we think is the norm Tear at our flesh and rip through our lives becoming the things we all so despise We make ourselves sick with the image of love With sharp thorny roses and disease ridden doves

0

Nov 6, 2014

Nov 6, 2014 at 7:14 PM UTC

Untitled

We all get stranded out in the field with a routine of things that never yield The happiness we so deservingly seek Turns mundane and makes us weak We snip and cut at everything warm Until our bones will show what we think is the norm Tear at our flesh and rip through our lives becoming the things we all so despise We make ourselves sick with the image of love With sharp thorny roses and disease ridden doves

10