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Autumn Whipple Jan 2015
is it ironic
to spew poetry
about poems?
to inscribe words about inscribing words?
well, if it is, then so be it
for poems and the air around
me, every word I write
every scene I breathe
could potentially become a poem
a lyrical transformation
of the everyday into
something never scene, written, never had
being
before
I typed it up
hands freezing on the keyboard.
waiting hopelessly for the next poem to show
on the feed
that means
so much
to me
Autumn Whipple Jan 2015
why are so many things so tempting?
why do people let their hearts rule their hands
rule their mouths
rule their minds
why do I?
I can't control my hands, my words my mind
the seduction is there
every step of the time
the rules the lines they all become blurred
and all my thoughts just whirl and stir
a cesspit of temptation
to do things I shouldn't
to do things that would hurt others but make life easier,
to disobey the rules
I've followed my entire life
don't spend too much time reading and study instead
the seduction is there
pulling along
changing my ways
making everyday a little harder
but
a little bit better
a cruel mistress with  
the best
of intentions
no notes suffice.
Autumn Whipple Jan 2015
the serpent slithered into your heart
spewing a poisonous spray
she seduced
lied
cried that you
need to know
she hurt you
when she hissed
all the secrets and non truths
of knowledge
she killed
My chances
With every word that slipped from her
Serpent tounge
A flower
an apple too tempting
But in a tree
a garden
Of sweeter fruit
A seed of desire
Sowed into a prosperous garden
Of could have beens
Of maybes
Watered
With the withering
Of a mouse's slow start
Slowly ****** clean by
A dry serpent heart
Ugh more sappy poetry sorry. Forgive me !!!
Autumn Whipple Jan 2015
the sight of soccer makes me sick
the smell of old spice makes my eyes *****
seeing a buick makes me want to curl in a ball
it always seemed like you stood so tall
above me
as i stood in your shadow
you were
are oblivious
as you chat away
every day
pretending to care
pretending
like you want me there
today you almost
read my poems
stupid
to lend you my computer
while it was up
you read one
two
three
before i freaked and pulled it away
it makes me
sick
this hopeless devotion
it curdles my stomach
this senseless inward commotion
reading like a sheakspere historian
into your every word
brush
comment
every time
our eyes meet
i fall a
little more in love
and get a little angrier
at myself
for succumbing to
this foolish
black hole
of a sickness
well, im angry at myself a) for feeling like that for a guy who wouldn't notice if i never talked to him again and b) not paying enough attention before handing a boy ive written LOADS of sappy poetry about the computer where i have one of the poems up. one of the poems about him
and he knows it was about him, but he... ugh!!!
Autumn Whipple Jan 2015
the dark is like
a cup of
youth
a nostalgic omnipresence
that never fades
always the same at the end of every day
but no walls can keep me protected
from the thoughts that the dark brings like
unwanted guests to
a pity party
we belong to the dark
born in the dark
erased in the dark
never felt so alive entrenched in black
yet so dead
because closing my eyes does nothing
to the sheet that lays over my eyes
where there is no light to hide
from
the waking world
well. i really need to stop being a teenage girl and write some non romance-y stuff and actually try to write something i wont be embarrassed to read in three years.
Autumn Whipple Feb 2018
blue and white
cast upon you
like rice at a wedding
they follow
wanting
lusting
calling
cursing
but how to ward them?
when you ache
and plead
with yourself
your empty bank account,
god
for something you find beautiful
in another
yes, the evil eyes are always watching
because
they are yours.
this was for a prompt where you didn't name the seven deadly sins, so this one can have every adjective but the word envy. I chose the evil eye, because that represents the stain jealousy casts on others.
Autumn Whipple May 2016
Release me from the present
so i can jump
full stop
into the future
even if it scares me
at least
it's better than this
unbalanced
equilibrium
Autumn Whipple Mar 2015
there is a woman
who drives
the bus I take to school in the morning
I always wonder, more often than not
why she works on a bus
it must be tedious and boring
running the same route over and over again
dealing with girls like me
who
more often than not
forgot their money
she is pretty, young
wears expensive sunglasses
but she drives the high school bus
full of loud, rude kids
instead of something
she would find more
appealing.
but maybe she likes the repetition, the change
the power of driving us each day
maybe she relishes our little lives
in her hands
which grip the steering wheel
as she navigates the streets
maybe she enjoys the challenge
of wide turns and
negotiating her way through the streets like
an overweight pedestrian
on a busy sidewalk
she boggles me. but she lets me on when I forget my money, so im not complaining
Autumn Whipple Oct 2015
i sat in the mirror
watched you all day
say the way the silver called for you to stay
to stare deep into those empty eyes
and waste away
as my narcissist
dead lover you'll stay
leaning down to the waters in quay
to press a kiss on my brow
even knowing i'll soon fade away
i love the story of echo and narcissus. what a basic, basic boy
Autumn Whipple Mar 2015
do you know the feeling
the twisted tremors
the slippery shivers
that linger in the
pit of your stomach
the feeling that something is wrong
the feeling that you
are left out
messed up
wrong
when you did nothing
and it seems that maybe
if given the chance
you could've done something
been somewhere
accomplished something
but the feeling in the pit of your stomach
only serves to remind you
of time wasted
i have this feeling right now... not my best poem but eh.
Autumn Whipple Jan 2015
in the tumbles of ice and snow
a small spark of a crystal did grow
i sprang out borne, not still
into a world of ice and chill
i loved the ice, the tumbling start
of snowflakes that cascaded through the dark
for what could hold me with such care
as the snow and ice that kissed my hair?
i held my heart in a hardened vice
of a sweetly spun smoldering ice
but i grew older
that layer of solder
quickly cracked over
my heart pounded newly awaken
in a wild flutter, i had forsaken
the quiet isolation of ice and snow
for a life i didn't know
i longed for years for a frosty companion
to lead me through the wild abandon
that people once called love

i crept, i crawled, i spit and spied
i let the hope shroud me with lies
and then one day in Holland dear
i cast about, i found the boy
playing with his small wooden toy
one look at him and i knew it was true
this boy longed to feel the cold too
all at once so far and so near
all at once my path was clear
his name was Kay
and at the break of day
i shattered the mirror
and left a shard of my love clearer
slipped into his heart and eye

but there was a girl, a wretched thing
who in winter still smelled of summer and spring
she had my king by the throat
a sappy pestilence that would revoke
my claim to my sweet one Kay
and ruin my chance for love, that wicked fae

so i came to  him on a day i loved best
and when he came close i clutched him to my chest
for now he saw the beauty seared
into my face, so ruthless and dear
i cried pure flakes as we pulled away
to my joy there was no delay

for he was on the brink of manhood
a sweet young thing that would soon leave the stage in which he stood
and grow to love me safe and sound
in my castle where he would never frown
and would tumble happily among the drifts and cold down

but i'd forgotten the girl, the awful thing
who claimed love for  my soon to be king
like the sun in autumn loves the far away spring
in my carelessness i left her to sing
a song of melancholy with a bitter ring

i took my love far away
to the brink of my frozen quay
and then i first saw him smile
he kissed my cheek and asked to stay awhile

years passed and he grew
i was mother, friend, then lover true
he was pure and sweet and warm
by me Kay would never come to harm
a man who loved the cold and snow
and the woman whom held it, all aglow
he led my frozen heart to love

but the girl crept up and tried to sway
the heart of my beloved Kay
she begged she pleaded, she did whispered and shout
but of my palace dear Kay wouldn't come out
he protested, told her a story
of a beautiful ice queen and a love of glory
but the girl did twisted and pout
she pleaded for my love to cast on me his doubt
i lied, she cried
i'd stolen Kay, so he should cast me aside

i told him once as i felt my heart crack
that if he left he could never come back
the ice and snow would be strangers forevermore
if he walked through that door
he smiled his brilliant way
and said he would never live to see that day
but as he turned to shout out go home
a single tear that that ***** had thrown
landed in his glass shard eye
and with a sigh he followed through the night
the sound of sun and cruel warmth and harsh light

i was dead, abandoned
choked
as though my dearest had cut my throat
she melted away the sight of beauty he once held dear
and his eyes for once weren't clear
the ice and snow now held no power
and he slipped farther away with every hour
until she made him forget all about me

i pledged  i would never have another
and until death came forever my lover
i would never remind him of the loss
of the world she made him toss

so years went by
and with every day he breathed and sighed
laced with crystal goodbyes
she couldn't melt the ice in his heart
and in my frozen palace there were starts
when ever he thought of a life that he quite remember

but ten years later in late December
a young man stood in the snowy weather
calling out my name
in a way so tender
the cold and snow wrapped him in its arms
and bore him away to my broken form
he kissed me once
his lips still cold
and the ice queen learned what it was to truly hold
a willing heart and love, fully thawed and smoldering
i will love this man, my Kay
until the world starts over and makes our hearts say
that a deathless death will be the right way

but until then we dance away the days
in immortal youth
with no decay
for it was a snowy world with just an ice queen
and a molten man smitten with the cold serene.
this was based in the Hans Christian Anderson story The Ice Queen. the first draft was  better but i accidentally deleted it :'(  this is supposed to be in the view of the ice queen, who i always felt bad for. the isolation of winter couldn't be a happy place, and maybe she stole Kay so she would have someone to share the beauty with. and suggestions or comments would be great!
Autumn Whipple Apr 2015
I shiver
a wind could bowl me over
I shake
with anger and mistakes
I tremor
As you return me to sender
I quake
Waiting for you to forsake
A tremor
Some how just a crack
The size of st. Andreas
Ugh the anger
Autumn Whipple Jan 2015
I went up to the hill
that Jack and Jill
once tumbled down
quickly becoming the talk of the town
a terrible reminder of youth
the scene from this hill
one fall down this grassy *****
and your life
becomes the tale of legends
of stories
of perverted wonderings
one tumble down this metaphorical hill
and you leave the land of butterflies and fairy wings
and hit your childhood crown
on the rock of adulthood
merlin this is a not as good as it sounded in my head.
Autumn Whipple Jan 2015
Tears are water falls
Slowly dripping down your face
As I look at you
Embarrassed for
You
Angry for
You
So don't cry
Because
In three days
You won't remember
You fell down
You pick yourself up
Once again
Another price
Gone to the void you
Say you love
But we both know
You
Know
That she is horrid
Embarrassing
A liar
A liar that you love
And I can't help loving you
Because
You are not afraid
To cry
My friend char requested this... Not my best but better than nothing
Autumn Whipple Jan 2015
people always name me
label me
for my season
a petty qualm
a minor annoyance
but annoying all the same
hey spring! they yell, like that makes them clever
hello winter, they crow
like I haven't heard it all before
sometimes I just want to scream
my name is Autumn
not winter
not spring
not summer
Autumn
Autumn Whipple Mar 2015
I often wonder
why
certain things seem funny
giggling in class
stupid  
juvenile jokes
scrawled across wrinkled
scraps of paper
some is offensive
i'm shocked I wrote it in review
some is raunchy
I wonder if something passed between me and you
but mostly I think it was just the thrill
because it was between you and me
wasting our days
scribbling away on torn
pieces of paper
and its even worse when my mom finds them and goes through them. like today for instance. ahhh, privacy you holy grail, discover your loyal believer that maybe you exist somewhere
Autumn Whipple Mar 2015
you chuckle and say
your welcome
when i thank you for holding open the door
you blush and say
thank you
as i ask you
if you could play me more
you shuffle and  question
if i want to go see a movie
you grin and say
for you anything
when i ask you to accompany
me on the violin
you grimace and say
of course not
when i ask you if you're angry
you smile and say
i love you
and i smile
and tell you
that your smile
is why I fell
for you
dang

— The End —