5 minute poetry

[Cat]

Jeez RaiRai... your poems have so much feeling... I love reading them...

[RaiRai]

I just write whatever comes to mind. No deliberation or time to reflect. Just write. =3

Your hand meets mine, it needs no guidance
it manages to find me through the darkness and silence
Life the barbell, move the rock
My heart longs for you to knock
Frozen in passion, a moment of perfection
now I'm positive I've chosen the right direction
Push the boundary, clear the way
My heart needs you here to stay.

[Osterbaum]

Maby I should write my poems down somewhere. I only have them here for now.

'Welcome home!'
Thats what they say
Though I feel lone
Like a ship at bay

I feel tied down (tied?)
No mather how far
Even in a different town,
Thats from the hart

There's just something at home
It's not the place for me
So I wonder alone
Better that way, And so it will always be...

(Edited for spelling.)

[Demon with a Glass Hand]

Fun with Laundry

She watches as I do the
Laundry.
Watches what seems to be a
happy
little
ritual.

Watches me fold my undies
shaking my ass
shaking my ass
as George Michael sings about having
Faith.

She's made out with another girl.
Dead sober she did this.
And she questions my heterosexuality?

Mayhaps I should call this
Fun with Double Standards?

Author's Note - Isn't Art better when it reflects Life? I think so, too.

[Cat]

In the darkness,
Of the night,
Darkest darkness,
Nothing too bright,
No moon to guide a weary travler,
No candle to emit its flame,
No lantern to boast its glow,
No torch to light the way,
Darkest of Darknesses,
Pitch black in right,
Deepest of blacks,
Scariest of frights,
Deepest of torments,
Darkest darkness,
Blackest blacks,
Serene in shadows,
And nothing seems right.
Shadows twisted,
Mind a blur,
Demon eyes,
In the darkness,
Glowing,
Showing,
Knowing,
Waiting,
Watching,
In the Shadows of night,
Till you turn your back,
Alone at night.
Your not afraid of the dark,
Are you?

[MIdnite]

and i am dead serious when i say this is 5 min stuff.

Flippant Tongue

I always find myself staring,
staring at your lips.
I always find myself wondering,
what would it be like to kiss you?
So many times have i been alone with you,
and everytime i lose the nerve.
I'm too scared of your reaction,
would you push me away?
Or worse, would you kiss me back?

I always find myself dreaming,
dreaming of you.
I always find myself drowning,
drowning in your eyes.
Sometimes i think i'm crazy,
other times i know i'm not.
You'd think i'd learn,
you'd think i'd move on,
but this stubborn mind of mine won't resist the temptation of you...
Even though i've never had your love.

I always find myself talking,
talking about you.
I always find my self listening,
hanging on to every word you say.
I'm too afraid that i'll miss something.
I always catch myself analysing everything you do or say,
trying to find a hidden message,
that i am endlessly searching for.
Would you be my reminder here that i am not alone?

So many times have i had my chance,
but every time i can't.
So many times have i looked into your eyes,
and everytime i lose my breath.
So many times i could have told you the truth...
But everytime my flippant tongue loses its edge,
and i am left here in the end.


theres more at: www.midnite-angel.deviantart.com go to my gallery, check it out, have some fun.

[Demon with a Glass Hand]

Originally Posted by MIdnite

and i am dead serious when i say this is 5 min stuff.

Most of us here are dead serious, too.

Not me, though. Never.

Cheese in the Pillow
It would be curious to hear
I would think
The reply I give
addressing the problem of
"What's for dinner today?"
"Cheese!" I exclaim.
"Cheese and bacon and potatoes!
Wrapped in a soft pillow, and fried to
perfection."
Blank stares follow, and I grin
like an idiot
politely asking my leave
so that I may feast on some
happy pillows.
Stuffed with bacon and cheese and potato
and Love.

Authors note: Yum! You just can't beat dem' pillowy pillows of cheesy bacon, and potatoey delight!

[RaiRai]

I hear the vibrant sounds of morning
against the roof above my head
the liquid sounds of sunrise
that drown me in my bed
and I stretch these tired arms
smell the coffee on the tray
smile into my lovers eyes
on this dismal, cloudy day
yet I cannot see the sky
no window in my room
I know the look of the world outside
the greyness and the gloom
yet the covers are so cozy
and the breakfast warm and fresh
Sunday mornings are so blissful
full of joy and rest
I'll settle in the comfort
one day of all the week
tomorrow begins the grind again
and new peace I shall seek.

[Funka Genocide]

what a new impact
this being like myself
in disposition true
oh, to start anew

false and to a fault
true to common voice
shed the robe of normal
its trimmings far too formal

mirrored in activity
a freer, kinder sort
garish in reflection
loving the inflection


its been a while, this ones about how I've been feeling lately, its quite a new experience being honest with myself, and it feels quite good.

[Demon with a Glass Hand]

The Talk

"David .."
Dad tries to talk to his son.
It's hard. He's hurt.
His Mom's been crying
all day.
"We found this ..."
He pauses. He invaded his
son's privacy ... but, he tells
himself, it was neccessary ...
"In your room."

David is silent. He doesn't look at
his Dad. Mom's sobs are starting to annoy
him.
A lot.
"We've had this talk before, son." Dad
is firm, but keeps any anger out of his voice.
"Don't call me that." David chews on each
word.
"Your mother and I ..."
And she's still crying.
"Know where you got this.
And we know that ..."
David is looking into his Dad's eyes.
There's fear behind his. He hopes
that this isn't going where he thinks
it is.
"This is preeeemo stuff!"
David blinks twice.

"How dare you have this in our
house and not share! We taught you
better!"
Dad stuffs the baggie in his pocket.

"Let this be a lesson to you!"

Author's note: To anyone who has parents like this, I apologize. I can only say that, since I never done 'that' and don't have parents who did, that I find this terribly, terribly funny.
Heh. His parents are potheads ...