Breath In Cold Wind
This is a broken heart, Well what’s left of it anyway,
Floating dreams, placed on paper, ready to give away,
Crumpled up, broken, shattered, then fixed,
Can you fix my dreams,
Can you fix my heart,
It seems like you mean something to me, something different,
Something untamed and free, something I want,
As my serenade ends, and my dreams float into the gutter,
Under my breath, from deep in my lungs, I whisper,
Be mine, into your ear, in a hope to grasp, in a hope to want,
In a way, a attempt, a glimpse, a kiss, of what’s there,
A touch, a taste, is never enough, as we depart.
The day my heart died, was the day she left,
I sat on the rooftop, alone and wept,
Hoping she would come back, arise from the dead,
To live, to breath, to let me hold her again,
But you can’t change the past, and that’s what’s plaguing me,
But now I found a bieng so similar, and inviting, it may just seem,
Like blood to a shark, I need to feast upon your fruits of Eden,
I can show you anything you need, in memories and faithful dreams,
This is a broken heart, Well what’s left of it anyway,
Floating dreams, placed on paper, ready to give away,
Crumpled up, broken, shattered, then fixed,
Can you fix my dreams,
Can you fix my heart,
As my words, flutter down the street, as if birds in the sky,
The hope sparks my heart, what if. Can I try,
Can I speak the words to her, can I explain,
The way I feel in her arms, can I be in them again,
To part her lips around my own,
A taste of sweetness I want to own,
A glorifying dream, of endless capacity,
No more tears, no more shattered glass,
The violin speaks my name, as it plays the sombre tune,
Re-emerging September days, under the ice, as the memories played,
I hope you can hear me, as I speak aloud, in no attempt to call you or seek you out,
But to thank you for the release I felt, in your arms, maybe one day under your skin,
Maybe again in your arms, the future is so unclear, so uncensored, and desolate,
Well time will only tell my love, of what we do as we meet, if we meet again,
So allow these dreams to blossom like a rose in your garden, like a thorn in your liver,
Well, my timer is soon out, years seem like days without you, hear me now,
I can still taste your kiss, your serenity provides perfect bliss, in a moment its over,
But a year it lasts, i'll never forget that night, when the contact was made,
Forever burdened to be your slave, owned forever by your saint like wings,
Pre-occupied with problems, but no more, no more anxiety, no more failed wishes,
(Bit of background info; i was listening to "never meant to belong" that is a piece of music by shiro saguisu. And it made me think of this guy, who was a representation of my self, (kinda like a day-dream) and he or i, was outside, saying the poem out loud, and as i spoke the icy breath came out (dont know whats its called but its on like a frosty day when you speak and you see all the smoke) so thats about it, but this poem just tries to copy my little day-dream,)
Ok i really tried on this one,
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Poe's Raven
- Posts: 20
- Joined: Fri Oct 14, 2005 9:32 pm
- Location: Kent
It is good but when u said 'Year turn into days' i think you should have said something like' Years seem like day', in my opion it make more sence, but good overall
And the raven, never flitting, still is sitting, still is sitting
On the pallid bust of Pallas just above my chamber door;
And his eyes have all the seeming of a demon's that is dreaming.
On the pallid bust of Pallas just above my chamber door;
And his eyes have all the seeming of a demon's that is dreaming.
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Poe's Raven
- Posts: 20
- Joined: Fri Oct 14, 2005 9:32 pm
- Location: Kent
i do think it is good, but u may want to read it though so u can make little changes. Well done altogether though
And the raven, never flitting, still is sitting, still is sitting
On the pallid bust of Pallas just above my chamber door;
And his eyes have all the seeming of a demon's that is dreaming.
On the pallid bust of Pallas just above my chamber door;
And his eyes have all the seeming of a demon's that is dreaming.
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The Ghost of Brian Jones
- Posts: 28
- Joined: Fri Oct 14, 2005 5:54 am
- Contact:
a good poem, i quite enjoyed it. one thing, if you focused on spelling you missed a basic. in the last stanza verse thing, you wrote "ill". i could be mistaken but from the context it seems you mean "I'll". another thing, if a word starts with a vowel the indefinite article would be an not a. probably just a minor typo but one that bugs me a bit. as far as the "years seem like days" line, i think it works fine the way it is. i see nothing wrong with it. overall, nicely done.
"the kids today, they got nothing to say. they got nothing to say because they taught 'em that way."-Anton A. Newcombe
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The Ghost of Brian Jones
- Posts: 28
- Joined: Fri Oct 14, 2005 5:54 am
- Contact:
yeah, the title is fine. the cold wind part is mirrored in the text and a breath is a very temporary but necessary part of life and that too is reflected in the poem's tone.
"the kids today, they got nothing to say. they got nothing to say because they taught 'em that way."-Anton A. Newcombe
