truman-brislin-miller
American
Writing has been my passion for about as long as I can remember. I started when I wrote comics and short (very short) stories in grade school, and have kept writing as a pastime ever since. / / I tend to think a whole lot, and that has always found it's way into my writing. Although poetry isn't my strongest suit, it is a work in progress and I'm trying to get better. So please give me some feedback! Writing is the only way to get better, and comments help a lot. I hope some of you enjoy my work.
I'm losing you
Love lost in the fade of night
Darkness once so glorified
With the curves of snow on a body once held
Pale and glistening in the night
Off the eerie light's wooden crown
I can't seem to find you anymore
Encapsulated in the feelings which I once felt
I'm losing you to time
To the mesh in which we live
And I can't seem to recapture you
Your lips
Your *******
Your hands
Your hips
They're gone
With the wind of time and space
Apr 1, 2012
Apr 1, 2012 at 5:57 PM UTC
Cut grass on the lawn
A smell so sweet
Motors trying to clear their throat
So their grumbles may be clear
The sound of birds at dawn
Chirping ever clear
I can hear them say
Summertime is near
Mar 25, 2012
Mar 25, 2012 at 8:03 PM UTC
What is poetry
To a fellow in need?
Simply an outlet
To any man that grieves
What is a song
To a man of passion?
Simply a language
Of feelings and emotion
I can't explain
What dwells inside
Inside the walls
Behind which I hide
From the outer world
So harsh is the sight
I keep well away
As far as I might
It's the language of prose
Of time and rhyme
That I encrypt these messages
Of what's deep inside
Inside the walls
Behind which I hide
Until a better day
When all my fears will subside
Feb 26, 2012
Feb 26, 2012 at 2:52 PM UTC
How often do you wonder
What am I gaining out of living
When there's no plunder?
No happiness at this rate
No lovers entangled in fate
No final realizations
On the meaning to life
Just solitary thoughts
Yours alone to share
Have you given up yet?
Have you given up your share?
Of life you were given
As a baby so small
Inside the womb of a loving lady
Who would care for you to the tomb
And beyond
Or so she thought
She needed hope
In a life so fleetingly passing
A life full of hatred
Malice and pain
She needed hope
The kind you have not
Feb 8, 2012
Feb 8, 2012 at 10:52 PM UTC
I love the pen and pad
But I don't think I can use it
It really makes me quite sad
That I can't seem to work it
You see, it's my confession to make
That I love to write
But it's sort of fake
What I really feel
Doesn't rhyme
So I change it's form
So it can fit the time
The pen and pad
So beautiful it feels
The sign of an intellect
Of a writer to be feared
J can't explain the reverance
For the pen and pad I posess
But surely it isn't natural
To find a workman's tool
My mind's only nest
I have found that there is a problem
The dilemma is this:
I can't really use these tools
Even though they're my mind's nest
I can't truly navigate them
With the words great writers heft
I can't form them
Into works of art
Like all the artists I envy
With words nor picture
Not short nor lengthy
You see, it's quite clear
The pen and pad
The paper and ink
They work so well together
It makes my heart sink
They inspire joy
From my hollowed throat
They are too beautiful
For words to provoke
But still I try my hand
At writing with paper and ink
Because all I can do
Is think
But all I write
Feels fake
Feb 2, 2012
Feb 2, 2012 at 8:19 PM UTC
I'm sure you've heard the phrase
Once you're born, you start dying
But I'd like to clear the haze
Are you born at conception
Or when your head peeks out the womb?
Were you alive, in halves
Before egg met *****
If this is true
You existed before these cells were made
And if my words are correct
You were once a tiny speck
Of dust on the floor
Or perhaps on the shore
Of an ocean, ever swaying
But maybe your speck
Was once part of the ocean
And part of that ocean
Was once in space
Once a flash of energy
Before matter was made
And the universe's foundation was laid
In stone
Or rather
In foam
So easy to spray
But so easily disappearing
Into thin air
That was once nothing
But if we existed before we thought
Because we used to have no thought
Then it'd only be plausible
That we will exist after we lose thought
But maybe in two
Maybe we can think for eternity on end
Or maybe I'm a fool
We can only find out
If we take the dive into the pool
Of life's slow compromise
But the sad truth is clear
You and me, dear
We are something
Something, that came out of nothing
But nothing, dear, must have a big belly
If it were to shell out something that's this heavy
But if all we knew
That we're truly nothing
We'd be quite sad
But really, we already are
So let's hold hands
And look to the sea
I'll look at you
And you, at me
We can think ourselves away
Until we find reason to be gay
But we'll have nothing left to say
For our only legacy is what's up there
Upstairs
Hidden in our squishy brains
Where you and me
Can think of eachother
And wonder
Why is it us
That think of this stuff
Maybe it's just better
That the rest of the world has other thoughts on their mind
And they don't mind the bigger stuff
They feel content, just leaving it
To
Us
Jan 23, 2012
Jan 23, 2012 at 11:13 PM UTC
I often like to say
That I love to write
That it makes me gay
But what I scarcely say
Is how horrible I am at this trade
And how awful it is to say
All that I have to think
On paper, with ink
You see,
It's quite easy for me to see
But I'm sure you saw it first
Written in ink
On this paper
It stinks
Awful badly
And sadly
I continue to write
Until my thoughts are out of sight
Horribly mangled
Onto this paper
That has been strangled
By these words I try to write
But never without spite
For I envy all those men
Who can spin words with their pen
So easily and care free
They make me quite angry
Yet inspired by their being
This is why I should stop
It's really quite a sin
That I continue to try
To write with this pen
Jan 20, 2012
Jan 20, 2012 at 9:37 PM UTC
Dusk is the colour of my life
Loneliness, the flag of my strife
Thoughtfulness, my only wife
But happiness
Is that I can't attain
So forever I will refrain
From life in all it's usuallness
Simple and plain
And I'll keep on thinking
Of better ways to reign
These thoughts of life
That have become my name
Jan 20, 2012
Jan 20, 2012 at 9:22 PM UTC
Hidden withdrawal
Into the chamber of dusk
Into the dwelling of dust
Under lampshades and blinds
Dusky and dull
Lie the soul
Lost
In the heart of a man
Without purpose nor life
Lie the words
Screaming to come fourth
But hopelessly sunk
In the abyss of his soul
Lost
Are the words he once found
The sentences once bound
To his life
Former to his strife
And to his pain
Now he dwells
Among all forgotten shells
Of past fate
Lost
Wandering thoughts
Dulling into dust
He wonders how
He ever came
To be lost
Jan 16, 2012
Jan 16, 2012 at 9:40 PM UTC
I'd paint you a picture
But my image I may not convert
I'd write you a song
But my words can not be learnt
I'd clasp to your words
But they slide away like sand
I'd fall into your hands
But they move away, just a tad
For you and me
Will never quite see
What it is in each other
What we want to be
We're both in a trap
Like the rest of our friends
We need to break free
But only in the end
It's really not hard to see
Once you look at it simplistically
We're all in a trap
Encaged by this world
A sense of self
The impairment of our sight
Is our real plight
What we call "I"
We should really call "us"
It's the blinder to our lives
The captor of our freedom
The separation of each other
Is what makes society shudder
But fear not, dear
It's not but an outgrown husk
At the end of your life
At the end of our years
When unity reappears
Jan 16, 2012
Jan 16, 2012 at 9:22 PM UTC