skaldun
A poet, just a simple poet. I write more traditional, rhyming poetry. I don't do free form. / / Now for the more elaborate version, I started writing poetry because it was an outlet for my emotions. For many years I just wrote free form poetry that mostly makes me cringe nowadays, alas a few years back I met someone who used to write rap lyrics who basically beat some sense into me and got me more into classical/rhyming poetry. And from there I've developed into that kind.
White birch sprawled with scars and cracks
roots barely piercing through the ground frozen rock solid
drifts of white powdery snow laying meters thick in stacks
naked twisted branches standing quite squalid
dead to the surface but holding so much potential
come warmth and the sun everything quickly changes
it looks barren but like all things it is sequential
dead frozen husks always has many unread pages
attention rarely payed to that which seems lifeless
fruits not plucked when they're deemed not mature or spoiled
no one spends time waiting for the shade when it's leafless
care shan't be given when it's crooked and coiled
flocking comes birds and those who fruits want to pluck
when rays causes everything to come oh so quickly to life
fall and winter come no one stays to test their luck
who wants to stay when there are times of strife
but perhaps it is suppose to be a cruel theatre
no one wants to stand on the stage of life when there are no light on up there
May 1, 2017
May 1, 2017 at 4:25 AM UTC
The flames throws sparks
it causes the flakes to go up in steam
the air over it slowly arcs
shedding a bright beam
The air crystallize my breath
it's almost so I can see them sparkle
my gaze trails to the ancestors dance of death
the green shimmering light so patriarchal
I sometime wonder how much further it will be
how long I will wander in this land
if my destiny continue to flee
but in the end who's life isn't bland
But at least I know out here I'm free
that there is nothing that can hinder me
like it's a summers day and I'm a buzzing bee
no one to command me or to me plea
Nov 8, 2016
Nov 8, 2016 at 1:03 PM UTC
The cape of autumn sweeps over once more
rain and the cold through our bodies bore
Come and warm your bones with me once more
draw circles on my skin while we listen to it pour
I just want to see your chest heave up and down once more
you were the only one that put up with the snore
Just sit down and talk to me at least once more
can you at least try to not make my heart less sore
Can't you try again and fall in love with me once more
because you were the only one that I will really adore
Nov 3, 2016
Nov 3, 2016 at 1:31 PM UTC
I wasn't the one who ****** up, right?
I wasn't the one who was the blight
Listen, for a short while you shook my hand
But in honesty the memories are just bland
And I'm not the one who was the fool
You were the one who changed out of the blue
I won't trust you again I'll get better at choosing
So I don't have to leave my heart with bruising
You're not the tenant here anymore
I think I have put you on permanent ignore
And believe me I won't hold a grudge
So don't go around telling the next one I was the one to budge
Please don't call, don't write, don't visit
Go on with your life but don't twist it, into something it isn't
Don't even ask in ten years how I've been
Because this is the final ******* fin
Jun 12, 2016
Jun 12, 2016 at 7:28 PM UTC
It's quite funny because time so fast have elapsed,
yet you seemed to crawl under my skin and to my spine attach,
it's like watching a fixed dog fight so it costs a life,
but now I'm to old to cut the pain away with a knife,
I just want to end up on some warm tropical beach,
where I don't have to handle this beef,
wedged under my ribs something is frozen,
because I really thought you were the chosen.
Jun 8, 2016
Jun 8, 2016 at 8:12 AM UTC
Just the other day I was out in the woods where I used to play around as a kid, the rocks and small mounts where I would on wet and slippery moss skid, but that was years ago by now all the trees had gotten rid, laying about in masses and twigs and branches just spread out like a battlefield, god forbid.
The old pond where when there were rough winters and the ice were thick enough we would compete who furthest slid, where thick brush and large tree trunks we could see who best hid, to think that all that glee and all that childish joy I just put a lid, worrying now over how my credit balance does on the grid, how much on the dream house I should bid.
It's a strange feeling growing up and wishing you were older and when you get old you wish that you were young and still had that chip on your shoulder, now carrying doubts and fears on your shoulders like a boulder, wishing that you were not the one being the stakeholder, but I suppose it's all in the eternal eyes of the beholder, but god I wish I never got older.
Jun 5, 2016
Jun 5, 2016 at 3:49 PM UTC
I'm waiting by my log fire while the hours fly by,
while the stars during countless nights fly in a spry,
I'm waiting for a woman from routes afar -
the one putting my doubts and fears on par.
I imagined a wandering snowy flower
and dreamed of a tremulous, mocking laughter,
I hoped I would see my beloved come this hour,
through woods, across moors a snowy night so sought after.
Happily, I wanted my dream to hands bear
through the brush over there where my cabin stands mere;
and raising a joyful shout to the lady:
Welcome you, without you, everything has been so hazy!
I'm waiting by my kiln hours while suffering
while the woods singing and the skies go.
I'm waiting for a wanderer from routes far to show -
my beloved, the love who about I am stuttering.
Jun 1, 2016
Jun 1, 2016 at 4:55 PM UTC
It's funny how I've always written about hardships and love,
yet only one really fit me like a glove,
Both always take more from me than I take and always end up with hurt,
yet I always throw myself into both like a spurt,
I don't know what wicked god always seem to bless and ****
perhaps it's my destiny just to go out in a bam,
For once control over my destiny I want to assert,
my trigger finger is always alert,
May 31, 2016
May 31, 2016 at 3:00 PM UTC
I have this watch that every hour produces a beep,
making me count every hour I'm losing sleep,
Because no matter how hard no rest i can reap,
not knowing how you are or hearing from you make my skin creep,
No matter what because you've manage to every pore seep,
utterly from under me my very being you sweep,
And I know my words by now seem very cheap,
but they along my being are yours to keep.
May 30, 2016
May 30, 2016 at 5:33 PM UTC
Like a gentle and beautiful rose sprung out of the soil
pure and innocent like the first snow nothing it can spoil
but yet jagged and thorned defensively, a true nature's toil
Spreading up towards the sky for the feeble sunlight
closing up every night when the cold comes oh so tight
but seems so untouched and pure like without plight
Love is like a rose having it's thorns but yet it's temptation
many fall fools to the beautiful and pure creation
but few are willing to withstand when it brings damnation
Love isn't just beautiful pedals or ever so green thorns
false love you fall a fool for and can't handle to grab the horns
true love is when you with pride wear that crown of thorns
True love is when you're not afraid of petty thorns, you grab them and hold on until you bleed out and prove that you are worth feeling love.
May 29, 2016
May 29, 2016 at 4:23 PM UTC