Now look at this face
       Do you remember this smile?
           I wore it for you.

If fate existed

How could you possibly fail
With deeds,
predetermined,
in life's tale.

That would not be your failure!

Look up,
You're able. Capable.
Time to turn the table.

Giggle giggle **** ****
chuckle chuckle hard heart.
Lose the formal wording part,
just rhyme with nonsense works of art

**** art
Words are art
Parts of art
Those parts of art seen with your
hard heart
Soften up and see the humour
With a giggle giggle **** ****

Tim had always wanted to marry Harry,
But his co-worker Bob had a negative view,
For bob said this union was repulsive to him,
"Marriage wasn't created for two dudes like you!
I demand compensation for the work I can't do,
Whilst I work in this booth with puffs like you two!"

Bob said his religion, his core family values,
Were the reason that happiness,
Wasn't for guys who love dudes.

Bob's just an *******.
Each to their own.

Why did the sun not rise today
Why was the sky not bright today
Leaving darkness there to stay
I'm scared, dawn has not arrived today.

Or that my eyes are closed?
Unable to see
The straws I clutch are not enough
To replace the sense I've lost.

Craving imagery,
where there is none to be found.

I was told poems mustn't rhyme
Those that do show infantile minds
A child can rhyme two with glue
Or find a metaphor for the sky being blue

Rhymes are easy
Essence is hard
I use conventional flow
As my not-so-trump trump card

Stop. Branch out.
Find the words to reach deep down.
The soul wrencher's
The tear jerkers
The love felt on a whim
From first sight
Unable to project true depth
Just imagery
The easy kind
.
.
.

Stick to the rhymes for now
Best to do what you know how

Tweet chirp
Chirp

Tweet

Birds sound sweet
I've heard
Tweet chirp tweet

Calmness
In birdsong

I don't get it myself, shut the **** up birds and let me sleep. Geez!

Taken a hiatus
              Unhappy with the latest              
                           Words
                   Put onto pages
         They've not been the greatest
                   Need a vacation
                  Find that part that
                             CAN
                               Be
                          Creative


        Frustratingly
                          Average
   Make them look
                           Pretty
   Hide they're not
                           Witty
Ignore they're not
                           Gritty

                         Hello Poetry
           When you hold a committee
                         To judge me
                           Take pity
                         Before you
                           Unleash
                              Your
                            Critique
          Remember I'm only running at
                          Fifty-three
                          ­  Percent
                           Capacity
                          Creatively

  I think I'm due an upgrade
      To iron out these kinks.
Plug

Me

In

To

Sleep.

It flows
    And stops
         It dies
              And clots
                  Revives
                       It thrives
                          Until I drop

As alcohol courses through me
Turning pure blood to taint
My wits are dulled
And thoughts askew

That light is rather bright
That one up ahead
Too boozed up
To find the brake

...


Awaking briefly
No pain
Talking man with his blue mask
Hooking up a bag of life

It's red and thick
I've seen it before
Perhaps it was mine I gave
My life is too pathetic for another to save

Irony of my own blood replacing
My own blood

Is it worth it
Should they bother

Let me suffer my consequences

Just let the blood stop

I can already it feel it starting to clot.

One branch
Protrudes above the rest
It's not
A competition
There is no match here
It ended
Months ago

Last season
In the race
For light
Survival

This branch
Fails to see

We're all from the same tree.

If life were as he dreamt it,
He'd count on one hand;
His worries, his fears, his gone wrong plans.

Alas, a dream is that, a dream.

I'd pen a paragraph
or two
scribble out a
scroll
for
you
the ink pours out this pen
to produce a pretty prose
that's true
hoping
to show my view
my hopes
my dreams
the best for you
don't waste life
heed
this
be true
to you
make mistakes
keep youth's virtue
get a tattoo
in fact
get two
try that awful hairdo
keep your family
close
remember their value
be spontaneous
an impromptu trip
to a beach
or igloo
hug your mother
when
she's blue
learn Kung fu or write haikus
just continue
down your own
avenue



             I hope to be there to see
             how you grew and take
                 some credit for the
                              you
                              that
                                is
                              you

What's wrong with me?

I pour my heart
take my time
On the ignored
poems of mine

I take 5 minutes
just write some lines
They trend so quickly
these nonsense poems

Unrefined

I've had enough
Life's too difficult,
A little too rough.
Trying to find a way out
Can't find an exit.

Where's the sortie?
Ausgang salida,
Выход uscita.
Help me find the utgang!

Feeling trapped,
As people worldwide do.
I've been told before
"This is no place for you!"

I've finally listened,
It's time leave.
Friends tried to warn me,
Oh I was so naive.

Don't tell me I'll be ok
Don't tell me it'll all work out
This isn't worth it all.
It'll be so much easier if I could find the exit.

I'm with my son right now,
He's trapped me in a ball pit,
And I can't find a way out!
What did you think I was talking about?

Cheer up everyone!



Yes I speak Russian
(A little)

Mountain deterioration

Molehill sized problem
In view of others eyes,
Then why is it that mine
A mountain do divine?

Insistent drowning thoughts
Craving dreaded  loneliness
For alone there is no hate,
But too much time to contemplate.

A crowd of people
Yet to understand,
Their molehill can be climbed
My mountain is alive!

It grows and walks away
A steady pace I cannot match,
I chip away with building hate
Willing it to deteriorate.

If I can conquer this mountain
And start afresh anew,
Then this depression ruling high
Will be expelled with no forlorn goodbye.

But no.
My problems seem too large.
And that mountain in my mind,
I can never leave behind.

It stays,
It looms,
Depression booms.

My mountain will not deteriorate.

If you knew the landing were made of swords,
Would you jump?

If you saw the bridge collapse, descending to the deep,
Would you follow?

If you had to rewatch your life at heavens gate,
Would you regret?

If you knew my touch were poison,
Would you accept it?

If you knew your actions had consequences,
Would you lie with him again?

Then why do you return to me,
And fall down on your knees
Begging for what I cannot give

If you knew I'd say the same,
Scream at you to leave,
Would you go back and treat me that way again?

Yes

   You are wonderful

            These words were for no one
                          About nobody

But take them, now they're yours.
Believe them stranger.
Wear an unforced smile, with pride.
Believe those words strangers.
If I make you smile, I guess I'm wonderful too.

Give me rest before I fight again
I beg a moment's peace.
It's too soon to brawl my friend
My hearts not yet at ease.

The recent wounds are still too sore
I crave her presence still.
I'm not yet ready to wage this war
For the last one left me ill.

I cannot fight again so empty
I'm drained from a war of romance.
I want no other to try and tempt me
I was happier in her trance.

These others hold no appeal to me
They haven't her charm or looks.
What we had was chemistry
The kind only found in soppy love books.

For any other
I will not care
Or dote
Or laugh at their jokes.

For any other
I will not want
Or trust
Or look at with lust.

For any other
I'll not accept
The love from their hearts
For she has left mine in shards.

Inspiration doesn't strike me
I feel I have to earn it

My heart says,
       Write, for you have words to say
          Words to be heard
             Words to be thought on

My heart and head do not converse
I know this
As my hands are still frozen
There is no inspiration

He started to write once.
A prompt 'Birthday, Christmas, socks I don't miss.
What do you even feel from a mistletoe kiss?'

No poem formed as time escaped him.
No inspiration arrived to complete it.
The prompt remained a prompt,
a point in time to show his arrogance.
He felt too great for the family he had.

As time escapes,
Friends drift
Skin sags
Days drag
Fun has gone.

His family. Gone.

In old age the poem is finished.

'Birthday, Christmas, socks I don't miss.
What do you even feel from a mistletoe kiss?
I'd give anything
to go back to this.'

This cloak
I have
Upon my back

It grows
Enlarged
With every tear

This cloak
Of sadness
Upon my back

Always

Always there

As I use this conditioner on my hair
I think,
Do I need hair this fair.
As a man, should I care?

      But it turns so soft and silky!
      Just feel it, touch it,
      So smooth and wispy!

Shush now voice, I tell you,
I do not care for this fair hair!
I do not need fair hair with flare!

      Don't you like the way it smells?
      So clean and fruity,
      Smelling fresh as sleeping beauty!

Enough! I do not need fair hair
Or hair with flare
Or hair that glares
So man up!

And rub some dirt in there!

Would anyone who reads my poems (if they have time) please get in touch with some constructive criticism? Any positives or negatives would be greatly appreciated to help improve my scribbles.

Thanks guys!

Grez x

INSOMNIA

             I beat the Sandman
             Now I lay in limbo
             Sleep set to
             Off
             Mode
             Nobody
             Is truly
            Awake

Happy, sad.

I love and loathe my brain for these.

INSOMNIA 2
             All
              I
             Need is
             More
             Of the
             Sandman's sand
             Nodding off to
             Imagination land

Good night