"tiz" poems
*This is a poem I wrote looking out my window this same evening in autumn I think I was just feeling a little lonely..
Life, it passes by outside the cold chained window
As I stare out into the light, out of my lonely dark corner
My eyes burn a little, I don’t mind though, I’m used to the pain life brings me
It has grown to a dull itch rather then a perching pain
It has been made null and done in by the pain my heart brings me
For the love of my life, the one who lied about his feelings,
He, he has ripped it out of my chest, painfully and slowly
Taking his time and plotting each and every single step he shall take
To make me suffer more then I should
I see a copal, and how cute they look together
But then I look into her hims’ eyes and see, I see what I saw in my hims’ eyes
I shan't worn her for tiz her own petty fault as was my own when my "incident" happened
I’m not mad at him, I’m sure he couldn’t help it, it’s just one of those unfortunate inconveniences
I hope it was anyway, even so I’m not mad, it was my own fault
So as happy life goes on outside my cold chained window
I watch and wait to see all the unsuspecting victims who will end up like me
But they’re different, they think they’ll have someone to blame*
Sep 29, 2013
Sep 29, 2013 at 4:08 PM UTC
Sundays are for poetry
it's just the way it is
The fact that I should mow the lawn
doesn't get me in a tiz
And sure I could shingle the shed
but it ain't fell down yet
and besides so what if it rains
things'll just get a little wet.
And I could be stripping paint
hanging wallpaper and doors
but quite frankly I dont want to
There's a reason they're called chores
No I'd much rather be sat here
with my laptop on my knee
sharing the thoughts within my head
for everyone to see.
Because Sundays are for poetry
that's just the way it is
perhaps I should go write that down
into a poem such as this
Jun 27, 2010
Jun 27, 2010 at 11:39 AM UTC
-Slightly sadistic 17-year-old girl seeks suitable mate
Re: matters of dystopic fantasties
- A cannibalistic companion, mayhaps
to soothe lingering curiosities held captive by the bright red and steady rhythm of dripping blood
Disclaimer: this advertisement (pronounced ad-vur-tiz-ment) is not a cry for help - but next week's definitely will be
"Hi, I'm not usually like this, I haven't really done this sort of thing before, but..."
thinking to self I would like to carefully extract your organs and construct a small fortress out of them. I would like to staple your mouth to my mouth. I would-
"Oh, what? No, I didn't say anything."
- I'm imagining you as more of a shadow, all tangible beings seem bleak to me - but could you still hold my hand???
"Yes, it's lovely outside. Beautiful weather."
- But when we venture outside its proven that our eyes are much too sensitive for the light and inside beckons as much cooler and safer, inside of me is dangerous - and inside of you is an inferno
(Please set me on fire)
Sep 6, 2013
Sep 6, 2013 at 12:23 AM UTC
And it is is mine that I
Speak of: Once upon
A time a great truth I
Knew great and good-
Know still its true and its.
No lie I tell but was a time
Apart and is not the same
The truth I know it is
Great and Glorious from
Afar but not so much with-
In where it fulled my heart
And soul. Now I know but
I know less now than before
When twas a Glory that can
Not be remembered as the
Old woman said speaking
Of the Fall in mountains of
Her Youth -tiz but once
We know and must forget.
But as the poet said of our
Youth long is its memory
For this yearning sin I ask
Your forgetfulness and mine
That I may love you as myself
Dec 17, 2017
Dec 17, 2017 at 3:43 PM UTC
The long and the short of it is,
at the moment
I don't give a krap if the
World's in a tiz
I'm in my cocoon
I'm growing and soon
I'll be able to fly far away.
Feb 4, 2015
Feb 4, 2015 at 8:32 AM UTC
If I keep writing, what will be revealed?
Nothing I'm guessing but it it seems I cant yield.
Am I a poet? Or is this a new fad?
All I can tell is that the rhyming is bad.
I don't know the rules or the technique,
But I can't stop the scribbles, no matter how meek.
It's a natural thing, a way to express,
But part of me just see's a terrible mess.
I am a dialectic, whatever that is.
Two opposites combining, one mind in a tiz.
A poet, an artist, a creative being
Married to a stoic, logical, seeing;
All sides of everything, large and small
No black or white, just grey over all
So that's where there is a difficulty,
For I know not what I'm supposed to be
But sometimes I feel different in my creative side,
This part is sure that it is up for the ride
But the stoic, the practical, the logical me
Reprimands my free spirit, say's it's best not to be.
A war has been raging inside of my soul,
One side of me buried like a lost blind mole
The other side leading with logic not spark,
We're moving and moving but still in the dark
If we walked together, trusted, believed,
Then there would be no panic, there'd be blossom and seed.
Together to freedom, together to truth,
Living in harmony til long in the tooth
Both sides need work and both sides need space,
But both will be represented by this one face;
Smiling and free, contented to be,
Who she is, who she was, who she ever will be.
Feb 5, 2014
Feb 5, 2014 at 1:14 PM UTC
*Roses are red,
Violets are blue.
I've written many a poems,
And they're all for you*
~
I've let out my heart, said all that I feel,
Prove to them all my feelings are real.
I have hopes one day you'll see what I've wrote,
Maybe I'll present it like a cute love note.
~
You would agree, we've seen good and bad,
My loyalty never wavers, even when we're mad.
No matter how many times uttered, "I love you" means the most,
I'm sure I've shown it enough times in these poems I post.
~
My love is soppy, its cliché but you accept me for me,
You're the only one ever to love everything no matter what it may be.
To feel loved as you are is the greatest gift,
Such sweet words that warm my heart as off to sleep I drift.
~
You see my dear, rhyming is easy and I could forever,
All to proclaim this love to you is my only endeavor.
You yelled at me last night but kissed me this morn,
All those problems fade and unto this world I'm reborn.
~
By now everyone can see just how clingy my persons is,
For my heart separated from you is left in a tiz.
Everything works itself out in the end,
I'll see your gorgeous smile around the bend.
~
*I'll go for now and I will return in time,
You'll see me here whenever my heart conjures up a rhyme*
May 24, 2015
May 24, 2015 at 10:39 PM UTC
Mama's on her iPhone
checking out
'Worst Places to Live in America'
heck
I guess anywhere's
better
than here.
The youngster's all a tiz
& teary because
his new bracelet making
thingy is actually
a real drag
to work with,
& me,
I'm all a glaze-eyed
looking at my bank account
& its negative
$35,
oh,
& did I mention
there's now a hole
in my boot
to match
my socks,
ha!
Mar 26, 2017
Mar 26, 2017 at 10:36 AM UTC
Constant aches, constant pains.
Oh sweet peppermint candy canes.
year after year, wishing on that bright, old star
Wondering how you are.
Torn apart by the court.
It's time for cheer, for Christmas is here.
Tiz not the time to mourn.
Tiz the time of year yet again,
to be with you,
But only in my faded memory.
Year after year,
missing birthday after birthday.
Year after year,
no family Thanksgiving dinner.
Year after year,
asking Santa for what I know he can't give.
Have all the cousins forgotten one of their own?
Aunts and Uncles too?
What about the older sister,
and brother.
Have they forgotten as well?
Ten years of being seperated,
doubt they remember.
Only time will tell
Feb 16, 2018
Feb 16, 2018 at 2:13 PM UTC