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Bb Maria Klara Jun 2015
It seems as though I no longer conceal,
the things and nothings that I feel.
I comprehend not if these be real
not if such things I can with deal.
How strange my heart was quick a steal,
and I at a loss of strength and zeal.
The blanketing warmth seems so surreal
Unserene sensations make me their meal.
I once thought my affections were steel,
but strong thick layer perfectly feel
to your way of breaking my solitude seal,
my sentiments sway, so such they kneel.
Written on the Fourth of March this year, this poem had me spitting out my emotions like a heartsick adolescent. Well, I am only 17. Basically a bunch of puppy love feels... it is my first time writing a poem with a single rhyme though.
Bb Maria Klara Apr 2015
How strange it seems for one to see
at once all that they’re meant to be.

Unlike the man who wanted flee
by death. “To be or not to be?”

Perhaps now do I ask to thee:
How is it to live and to be?

Not to the immobilized tree,
that knows of nothing how to be;

Perhaps ask not the humble bee,
A bee is all it is to be.

Oh! Our knowledge is like a flee,
which is a tiny thing to be.

Or is it like the deep blue sea,
A vast blue strange odd thing to be?

The strangest thing: the stranger’s plea,
asking on if we are to be

more than this. Is the question key
to knowing what one is to be?

Oh let it be, I say to me.
What you will be, you are to be.
I was actually informed that this was not a ghazal. It rather disturbed me, but I suppose it will pass as a flawed one? This was prompted by Shakespeare's Hamlet as it was the class study at the time (March of 2013). It has been posted on Tumblr for quite some time but I believe it deserves a share here. I hope it delivers.
Bb Maria Klara Mar 2015
Why worthy wonderer, whispers no words
About fleeting feelings falling featherlike,
Better than bickerings boasted about
Sweeter than sugary surreality.

Truly a challenge to change nonchalant
Thoughts and then think so thoroughly that
At once and all over; obviously, we ought
To learn love in life like a listening lot.

Say, sharper than a sparkling star-filled sky,
Simply, I sigh seeing sight of your eyes.
Proven so purely precious prized promise,
Marvelous mystery making me most meek.

And although all acts are always adored,
No one knows nothing nor never alone.
Really, rough loving rivets writing wrists,
Yet you, I yearn you, yes, your yearning of me.

How had my heart helplessly heed no hails,
Empty of every eager everything?
It is indescribable, indefinite, infinite.
We would be the world's wishfulwise wonder.

Come clean, conclude, close calmly this cast.
Admit all affections are ardent and awe.
Truth telling ties tongues too tight to twist--
Here, have my heart, hear hopes howling hell.
I always had the thoughts of writing a poem entitled "Amazing Alliteration" or "Annoying Assonance" or both because I was really fond of it. Now I have a sort of masterpiece for it and it isn't what I entitled. I do not know if I should. Anyhow, I cannot exactly say what this poem is about: love, perhaps, most likely. When you are in love, things are bound to be sweeter than surreality.
Bb Maria Klara Mar 2015
Love me. Praise me. Fear losing me.
Tell me, if not else, that I am all you see.
Crave me. Want me, forever and always.
Make me feel important in all your able ways.
Seek me in your sleepless hours of night
or moments of bliss or tormentous plight.
Journey the roughest or smoothest of roads
Share with me, always, all of my loads.
For sometimes, I'll be right, and seldom be wrong
But still I want to be your heart's only song.
Despite subtle danger, you must be beside
Me; stay with me, my love, wherever I hide.
Remind me so often, how much me you love
As though I'm a blessing from heaven above

*For you are my blessing from heaven above.
I'll remind you, so often, how much you I love.
I'll stay with you, my love, wherever you hide.
Despite subtle danger, I must be beside,
You, who I want, you are my heart's only song.
Though sometimes you'll be right, or seldom be wrong.
I'll share with you, always, all of your loads;
Journey the roughest and smoothest of roads.
In moments of bliss and tormentous plight,
I seek you even in my hours of night.
You are so important, I show you this way.
I crave you. I want you, forever and always.
I tell you, if not else, you are all I see.
I love you. I praise you. I so fear losing you.
I just got in touch with my inner hopeless romantic. I'm hoping this poem will be the first and last whim of it.
Bb Maria Klara Feb 2015
I met an angel in church today,
With a heavy heart I sought its eyes.
Somehow it pierced me in every way:
My shattered soul and scornful sighs.
I asked, half teary, half mad and weary,
to it's stone face, marble visage;
Why did just living need be so scary,
Life but a sorry and sober scrimmage?
I begged the angel, still wings and all,
to save me one day, if it could do.
Though I, as human, run short of gall,
Lose hope, and end up praying too.
I met an angel in church today,
Don't know if it heard what I had to say.
About time I posted a Shakespearean Sonnet. This was prompted by the cliche moment of almost crying in a church.
My best poem'll be my suicide note
the very last thing I ever wrote
a goodbye to those who don't even care
but those I love, because life's unfair.
But this ain't it it's not good enough
but I swear one day I write the right stuff
and it'll be goodbye to the whole world
and so comes the darkness, black wings unfurled
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