A couple of poems
Traver DiDiminico
Posts: 185
Frogs
The lights are flashing, the music is loud.
People are dancing, lost in the crowd.
The smoke-filled room, the smell of beer;
So young, so soon--the end is near.
But they can't see--they won't understand.
And so it must be in the youthful Wasteland.
Some drink to forget their sorrows.
Some drink and create new sorrows.
Everything yet nothing changes tomorrow.
Everything yet nothing's the same tomorrow
In the youthful Wasteland.
Writer's Block
There's a poem in my head trying to get out.
The words call to me.
They scream and they shout.
"I can't here you," I say, "scream louder."
"We can't," they say, "listen softer."
So I wait 'till it's quiet now,
as I'm falling asleep,
but still I hear nothing--not even a peep.
Too bad, they might have made
me a better person.
Or, they might have poisoned me
and my condition worsened.
I would have liked to read them, though,
just the same.
To lose them would really be quite a shame.
I fear it's too late now.
They are gone and forgotten.
An ocean of words and they've sunk
to the bottom.
But maybe some day they'll wash ashore.
The lights are flashing, the music is loud.
People are dancing, lost in the crowd.
The smoke-filled room, the smell of beer;
So young, so soon--the end is near.
But they can't see--they won't understand.
And so it must be in the youthful Wasteland.
Some drink to forget their sorrows.
Some drink and create new sorrows.
Everything yet nothing changes tomorrow.
Everything yet nothing's the same tomorrow
In the youthful Wasteland.
Writer's Block
There's a poem in my head trying to get out.
The words call to me.
They scream and they shout.
"I can't here you," I say, "scream louder."
"We can't," they say, "listen softer."
So I wait 'till it's quiet now,
as I'm falling asleep,
but still I hear nothing--not even a peep.
Too bad, they might have made
me a better person.
Or, they might have poisoned me
and my condition worsened.
I would have liked to read them, though,
just the same.
To lose them would really be quite a shame.
I fear it's too late now.
They are gone and forgotten.
An ocean of words and they've sunk
to the bottom.
But maybe some day they'll wash ashore.
If there was a chair in which I could comprehend, I would stand always and embrace the path
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Comments
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Abstract Mind
Looking inside my abstract mind
For the words I know, I might not find
For the words to help, my emotions unwind
(Please) Open up sire, and let me inside
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Write On
I have no passion
I only write when I'm down
I have no inspiration
And yet I'm struggling, and down
These used to be the most captivating
Moments of my life
Feelings and emotions unwound
My life on the line as stories abound
But now I seem to have hit a wall
I'm too comfortable; I've seen it all
It's simply not the case
I'm just fed up with the bore
I've forgotten how to write,
What to write, how to score
I’m tired of the lies
And the judgmental whores
Tired of this life on earth
A feeling that has grown
Tired of the tired moans
Continuing to grow
With so much talk of war in the air
With so many people who just don’t care
Sitting back pretty in their easy chairs
If only they were made aware
Living the lie that they are fed
In the name of god, it’s us or them
Judge not, less ye be judged it’s said
Hey! I’ve found my muse; write on, amen
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Matt Grantham
Forever and ever ....Pearl Jam
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Forever and ever ....Pearl Jam
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