Hello All. I consider myself an author and wanted to share some of my great works of art I have written and wanted to read other works that the good people on grasscity have written. I shall post some poems I have written and If people want a play I wrote. Others go ahead and post small pieces they have written
I call this a continuous paper because I write until I run out of ideas, then correct grammar but never change an idea. What do you think? I understand not who or what I am. I see others but fail to comprehend the inner workings of her soul. Do they stare at me, asking themselves who I am? I wonder if she or he even has a voice inside their head as I do. My voice controls my body, but is entirely dependent on my body for everything. I feel distant from my body, as if it no longer belongs to me. I am merely a renter of the space. If I fail to pay rent, to supply it with its necessary intake of food and drink, I will cease to exist. Religions tell me I will live on. The Islamic-Christian-Judaism branch of world religion promises me an afterlife. Where the mental state either enjoys the boundless pleasures of heaven, or the internal damnation of hell. Others say I live again until my questions are answered and achieve peace with myself. But to achieve nirvana, become a Buddha, or total peace with myself is impossible for myself. I know that no matter how well I understand myself, I can never compare myself to another. I wonder if I alone suffer this limitation or if others also feel loneliness's bitter kiss. I frequently envy others, their apparent fluid dance of social conduct, being able to synchronize with another and build a friendship. Jealousy racks my bones for loners as well. People who neither engage in social activity, yet posses no desire too. I feel I alone am cheated in this world. I have no social skills, but am tormented every moment by a desire for companionship. I look to other males in the hope of them seeing through my eyes, but they are too callous, too sensitive, and too intelligent to understand me. I have tried to get close to females, but I never am able to communicate with them. I feel so out courted. Many times I feal so much more intelligent for my pears, but I feel too young. I look at relationships and think, when I'm older I can do that. But can I? Where is the point of understanding and my age align allowing me to become a man. Am I a man when I am required to be responsible, to fulfill duties? At age 12 when I can wield my first weapon in search of game? Age 16 allows me to control a 2 ton killing machine. When I am 18 and the government decides I am mature enough. What about 21, when even though I was an adult before I couldn't purchase intoxicating liquor? After collage sounds about time to move on and get a job. I don't ever have to grow up.
These next few are love poems. I never showed the girls who they where for, I wrote only to finalize my thoughts about them. What if What if I had taken the risk? We could have had laughter and fisk, I didn't want to be a fool, Around you I can’t keep my cool, If I could have been way more bold, You would have seen my heart of gold, I had the chance but gone it went, Followed by the feelings I meant. Chance I have decided to take the chance And try my luck at romance You are beautiful and smart For that you took my heart I believe it is fate That we shall date I’ll be trustworthy and true I’ll do anything for you I am not perfect in any way But for you I will never stray I will always be forgiving To that, a happy Sanksgiving (The girl always joked with me as I couldn't pronounce the th sound, and it sounded like a 's') Girl behind the wall I wish to understand you Girl behind the wall I know you’re strong To never release your barrier Girl behind the wall Your Intelligence shines through Nothing can hide its vastness All I wish is to start anew Girl behind the cracked wall Your emotions have been given a chance to shine The wall is final penetrated Now more than ever I wish you to be mine The once mighty wall is now only gated Girl behind the cracked wall The most beautiful girl of all Was completely terrified to fall She shut all others out Because of her biggest doubt Girl, won’t you please take down your wall Girl behind the shattered wall My biggest secret is known to you My true desires now are shown Dating is only to ensue If only you’re willing I can be more than fulfilling Girl behind no wall Saturday, February one eight, twenty twelve The day she either lost control Or her emotions just beginning to sprout I stood before you with my hand out I led the dance, yet you followed my step Now it’s your turn to take the lead Will you walk on your own, or answer my plead? Like a Phoenix Although it may seem that hope is gone And I know that I lack in brawn You are still the want of numerous Of them I alone am humorous Out of the chaos comes peace Peace comes with much love apiece Do not ever forget who you are You are still my shining star Like a phoenix, your love will sprout once more For in you there are many traits to adore For whose other fine locks of red Cannot be matched in the living or dead? I still posses the love of a child Potent, indescribable, and wild Yet I have the mature love of an adult To appreciate you without insult New Beginnings The Beginning of Winter signals change, The change includes the New Year, New Discoveries and New Beginnings And I hope new relationships I was once brave Once upon a time I would be the loudest But then I was hushed by others I would be the first But then I had failed the task at hand I would go the farthest But then someone would best me Years of failing have knocked me down But you are the inspiration to get me to try once again I know well of the possibility of failure I have already suffered once But I will try again. Only through doggedness can I gain what is best You are the spark that relit the embers of persistence I will once again become the loudest No one shall hush me I will again lead And not succumb to failure I will go farther than anyone else And ensure that I stay on top My skills are limited All I have is the pen But I hope it will be enough to impress Kiersten
And these I wrote about growing up. I thought I thought to live life; you must have fun I thought to have fun; you must have friends I thought to have friends; you must stay loyal I thought to be loyal; you must never go against your friends I thought wrong The world is not a magical wonderland, where wishes turn to realities Realities could be warped I followed my friends blindly I learned behaviors from them When my turn to change came, I refused to step up I followed the masses of males, for they were not men Men stand up when the time is right Men stay loyal, not a boy's loyal, an honest man's loyal Men know not to hide their feelings, but to allow them to shine Men fight, with tongue and arm, for what his inner voice asserts is true Men understand real pleasure is enjoying life Men know the joy of thought, of preparation, and the gratification of hard work Boys know the felicity of a finished work Boys fight, but not with tongue Boys hide their feelings, but still use them to their potential Boys stand up when the time is right and sit down as men The boys who refuse to stand up forever remaining immature, weak, and never experience the pure ecstasy of manhood This is my time to stand up
Your essay sounds like your typical "questioning" essay. Your poems sounds like stuff i used to write as a teenager. Don't get me wrong, its good stuff, but stuff i've read before. Keep up the good work though. Its important you keep all of this so that you remember what you were going through when you were younger. I liked these lines a lot: The Beginning of Winter signals change, The change includes the New Year, New Discoveries and New Beginnings
Ill share some stuff I have written after SMOKING SOME DANKKKK CHRON CHRON!$$!! On a more serious note: my writing style is sort of meant to be read as is I misuse punctuation on purpose to make my expressions clearer. I rhyme sometimes, and sometimes I don't; I honestly think that's due to my being stoned. Guiltless pondering under a tree, Silently contemplating the things we may be, or the various sorts that arrange us. All until a spark ignites... The tree is not real! Nor the forest, nor the sea. White wash upon the towering rocks of the leery ocean do not exist!!! This life is oblivion!! Scratch.!.!.!!! A purgatory of intervals. Substitutions of a nonentity prescribed, skeptical eyes spectacle covered, who assembles, and was figured by time. Here's another in response to a Geprge Meredith poem Lucifer mocking starlight On a foggy winter night Under the New York stars might The fog glowed right To show Lucifer lean upright. And in the lamplit alley A resonant personality Watched the fog creep slowly And the stars gather closely. Clenching a fist And silently smoking, A gleam of hilarity Plagued the face of past sincerity. Thoughts?