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Carl Rose Jan 2014
Thou shadow shaped ice,
freezing to eternal winter.
Thou ******* more brutish and cloddish
Soft snow does settle after stormy seasons
But winter’s bite too fierce, too drawn.
Ice formed sharp edges deep within
Lovely flowers lie
Surrendering to the storm
Oh sadness thou savor!
Branches break beneath thunder’s bark.
Could one be saved by sun’s kiss?
Gentle touch tint tough skin
Melt thou’s burn, spring daphnes belle.
This may be hard to understand at first glance, you may need to analyze. It's basically talking about a woman. The first two lines are saying "One's shadow has grown cold and seems to becoming an ice age." Shadow meaning the person's child, the poem then talks about the behavior of the child and how beauty may shine through by a simple love. I wrote this sonnet for my English Honors class, I hope y'all like it!
Carl Rose Aug 2013
What is Peace?
If not love, and happiness.
Is it that absence of anger,
To not deal with the rage thundering through the walls of our homes and cities?
Is it the lack of drama,
to not have to deal with the stress that our lives throw at us?
To not feel pain, as our lives and maybe loved ones create over time... emotionally, or physically?
What is it you think of, when you imagine peace?
A calm life, filled with laughter, smiles, and tears of joy?
Do you imagine those things in life you've wanted most surrounding you?
No bills, no pills, no kills.
Sharing, love, and care?
Carl Rose Apr 2013
A pretty new dress
My pretty blue dress
I laugh, she smiles
I tease, she plays

“Let’s wrestle” she says
And jumps onto me
I scream, I struggle
Relentless, she seems

Wrists pinned above my head
My waste suppressed to the ground
I wriggle out, I push her off
She throws me down

No, no please no
As I climb away
I strive for distance
I battle for safety

My best friend reaches for a pencil
As she collapses over me, and jabs it inside
Her hand grabs for my dress, my pretty blue dress
And yanks it, burning my skin with its new thread

Crying out, I hit her
She laughs, she smiles
I scream for help, calling to her father
With no response

Breaking free, I lunge for the door
Only to trip, falling to the floor
Straddled, she laughs
She’s winning this match

My buttons tear, uncovering my *******
My camera in her hand
“Let’s show your boyfriend”
She toys

Suffocating under her obesity
I haven’t the air to scream
Tears leak from my eyes
Lips quiver in shame

Bored, she bounces, she thrusts
Nearly cracking my hips
My ribs crunch, my guts ache
And I gasp for air

My best friend grabs a marker
She writes on my face
As she bounces
She writes on my face

Asthma consumes me
As I struggle for consciousness
My mind fuzzes, and vision darkens
I think to myself, “This is how I end”

I never wore my blue dress again
I never told of what she did
I never spoke to her again
I never
I never
I never
My best friend.
I know this poem is more of 'telling' a story, rather than putting you there or going by 'feel'. My English teacher would hate this. But this poem means a lot to me, and it took many months to finally get out. Maybe someday in the future I will re-write to make it less 'telling'. Any thoughts?
Carl Rose Sep 2012
Thoughts chase through my head,
They bubble up my throat,
Scratching to get free.

I speak in mute voice:
Words slipping away,
Like water in my hands.
Carl Rose Sep 2012
With tear blurred eyes
I shook my head no, again and again
could this be lies?
Is this a trick to bring me more pain?

No, it’s not a lie
I’m steady as a brick, frozen with confusion
I fall back with an uneasy sigh
This seems like an allusion

“We won’t move again,”
They’d promised me

2005 to 2007 by summers, it’s all I had
How could we go through change like this,

After all we went through
But I didn’t bother argue, I simply asked when
I would be forced to leave all my best friends

Nevertheless, I’d grown used to this biennial

With luck, our next home will last a year longer.
Carl Rose Sep 2012
The memory still haunts me,
like the wild imaging's
of a fevered nightmare.

Torture to my soul,
though your sympathy
holds no role.
Carl Rose Aug 2012
I am looking in a mirror,
but all I can see is me,
trying to be
what I want to be
instead of what I really am.
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