Soph's Poetry

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SophiaGrace

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If I Could Cry A River

If I could cry a river,
a river would have run.

To let go is the hardest thing,
under this desert sun.

To speak the words of all,
and then see them come undone.

Leads to pain that ends in sleepless nights,
and less time in the sun.

If i had cried a river,
you would have never known.

For telling of tears is never,
something I will ever own.

I cut off speech without a word,
because words will not amend.

I could not speak to ask for more,
because I could not ask you to bend.

Some things are better left unsaid,
and so my hands encased,

the very thing that I have felt,
will henceforth be erased.

My head will turn away from you,
you will not understand.

Please know that I don't hate you,
I just can't go back to then.




Without A Word

All around is desolation,
My eyes don't see the things around.

Cling to shards that cut my skin,
forget the words that sing a song.

Hate the wounds and hold them tight,
these are things that nudge and bite.

Go for things that leave you bare,
turn away from things there.

Accept the love you think you deserve,
and leave yourself without a word.




Even the Dust

When words speak,
no answer given.

Words speak, hands speak,
no words riven.

hands reach out,
empty air.

Blatant lies Blatant lies,
oh look to see with your eyes.

Dissapear the disembodied body,
into the dust from whence it came.

The wind blows even the dust away.
 
I thought those were really good. The raw emotion comes through so clearly. I think my favorite was probably "Without a Word." I can relate to what you're saying about reaching for things that you hope will help you escape the desolation you feel, only to end up being left "bare."

Here's a poem by D.H. Lawrence that I came across several months ago. I think it expresses some ideas that are sort of similar to the ones in your poems:

"Nothing To Save"

There is nothing to save, now all is lost,
but a tiny core of stillness in the heart
like the eye of a violet.

Obviously it's really short poem, but it seems like Lawrence crams so much substance into it. He seems to say more with images and implication than he could have said by spelling things out in a more literal way.

Thanks again for the poems!
 
Glimmers

Can you see glimmers?
I do.

They're false,
Don't look at them.

I do.

Don't look, you're blinded.
Looking can't hurt me anymore.

But yet,
It still does.



Aren't I?

I'm writing about someone,
Aren't I?
Someone.
Oh yes.
Somebody who don't love me like I them.

Aren't I?
No.
Somebody else.
The blues turn to a new song.
 
Of Days Untainted

The taint of days untainted.
rolls around fruitlessly
and tastes like something unseasoned.

Convoluted blandness,
words spill off the pages.

This is life.



Away Today

I think i'll move away.
Close my eyes and move away.
My mind goes far, far away.
And I'll lose sense of time.

Dream today. I'll dream today.
Go into other worlds today.
And write about the places where I've gone to be.
 
I find, Today.

I wake today
I find, today.

I find, a moving edge.
I find, a going to.

Which is like the day.
I breathe.
Breathing is continuation of beats.
 
What words are there to say

What words are there to say
what feelings never could?
The rug that felt so warm
has turned to solid wood.

These dreams a person has,
are just, that, dreams 'tis all.
Awakening to this,
I wish I never knew at all.
 
I had an enormously fat cat that finally managed to capture a rat by using his not inconsiderable guile....although it took a while...he did it both with aplomb and a certain grace..and some crumbs of cheese formed into an irresistible pile..although the mess was doubtless objectionable all ended well...they became the best of pals and would while away the hours speaking mainly of cat v rat relative style
 
Wake Up Friend

Wake up friend,
Wake up,
Wake up,
Or slumber at music’s behest.

Keeping time with the rhythm of jazz
Slowing inwards and towards
A center of gravity internal.

A year has passed without a poem,
But here it rises like jazz ensemble swelling,
Into your ears and mind and back down
Into your pen
As you keep your own confidence

The things said alone
Are not in loneliness said
But quiet satisfaction renders them whole


In a Heartbeat's Measurement of Time

In a heartbeat’s measurement of time,
I would put your pain upon myself.
Or sink it far into the ocean’s depths.
If I could.

For all the love you give the world,
If thanks could be enough,
I’d give them to you,
If I could.

For all the kindness you have shown,
If I could show it back,
At a fraction,
I would.

If I could get you to see you,
As I see you,
As others see you,
I would.
 
Their Faces All Forgotten

Short the words,
and long the days.
The feelings pass,
but memories stay.
Their voices wind,
which blow away.

Their faces all forgotten.

And then there are those,
who hurt you still,
their faces stay,
and come what will,

their memories never forgotten.
 
Of What Material

Of what material am I made?
silk, cotton, wool or jade?
Am I stone or am I woven?
Hard to those who to me have cloven?

Do I drape well, or leave a heat sink?
Do I give or do I take?
Am I all the dreams you dreamt of?
or am I not what you would think?
 
SophiaGrace said:
Of What Material

Of what material am I made?
silk, cotton, wool or jade?
Am I stone or am I woven?
Hard to those who to me have cloven?

Do I drape well, or leave a heat sink?
Do I give or do I take?
Am I all the dreams you dreamt of?
or am I not what you would think?
I like this one it has a different feel than the others.
 
**** the Things

**** the things that never were.
**** the things which hope deferred.
**** the time upon them spent.
**** the feelings never meant.



There is no Life

There is no life in the land of the dead.
There is no strife to make the bread.
All hope has gone and dawn has fled.



Rage

Rage into the dead of night,
Rage until things are not right.
Rage until the break of day,
rage the things, oh,
all away.
 
SophiaGrace said:
Of What Material

Of what material am I made?
silk, cotton, wool or jade?
Am I stone or am I woven?
Hard to those who to me have cloven?

Do I drape well, or leave a heat sink?
Do I give or do I take?
Am I all the dreams you dreamt of?
or am I not what you would think?

Interesting. :)
 
i like to write something on here...

but i cant find right word...


i dont know this expression is right.. but i love "even the dust"..
 

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