Hey guys. I thought I would participate in this contest saying as this contest is something I can submit something rather easily. Log in to see images!

I wrote these a little while back and hoping they are still valid. I can provide proof that they are mine if needs be.

Reach

I reach out to you, but all I see is a blank hand being held out

You reach out to me, and I come running faster than my hand grew to existence

Why is it still like this?

I still can’t sleep and even when it do, it’s difficult

I still have the same dream I have before my eyes close-

I know the script better than a well loved Disney film.

Maybe I just fall too easily,

Fall into a whirlpool of fantasy, instead of the dullness of reality.

Reach for the skies, reach for something new

Reach for something that you don’t expect, to move on.

But it’s difficult.

How can you reach for something new if you are still holding out your hand, waiting.

Whispered words to my bedroom wall know my stories, my dreams, my thoughts.

Walls have ears, but what if they had mouths?

Maybe then you would understand.

My hand is still outstretched, and it will be forever.

The Fall

Your whole life is revealed, below

Not at the height of excitement-

but in the fall.

Love makes you foolish,

Hatred makes you contemplate.

It is the rise and fall that builds us,

but only the decline and fall that strengthens us.

It matters not if you are happy all of your life,

It matters not if you are successful from year dot,

You cannot grow without a trip.

Don’t be scared of the fall, jump

Be free.

The waiting for the fall is what hurts the most, so jump

Accept it.

It can only be beneficial.

Only once you have accepted your fate can you grow stronger,

Only then can you become a stronger person,

A better person.

Only after a fall can you rise to greatness.

That rise will bring the biggest smile.

Nothing can match it.

Falling Snowflake

It is time to write Jon says,

Time to put your fingers to keys.

Time to through everything out… out, into the open.

Why should I do this, I ask myself,

But Jon never replies.

Instead he does nothing but a whisper, making his orders clear.

So I bring my fingers to the keys and they begin to tap.

I do not know what outcome they will bring.

What philosophical questions that will be asked,

What philosophical answers that will be answered.

At present it feels like a blank stare of nothing,

But Jon wants me to continue.

A pause.

Another pause.

Typing starts again on a rolling speed, but not with much output.

It comes again for something to blend into, but nothing.

A pause.

A crash.

A result.

There is only one thing on my mind at present,

And it glows through the blankness.

At first it seems like it is not there, but it is- with the right focus.

As always it starts with a person.

Well in this case more than one, I think.

It’s complicated.

Well this one person is like the first snowflake that falls from a cold sky and the others, well they are simply ice on the ground ready to catch that flake.

The snowflake should be left to fall naturally,

But it is easier said than done.

How can you let something so beautiful fall?

Well, it happens.

It happens everyday.

Why is it so hard to make a difference even though they know that they should?

Jon is silent.

If only I knew what to do, I would do it.

Jon says type faster.

I don’t know what to type.

It would take for ages to scoop out all of this.

There is too much to be said, too much to be done,

And there are too many people that try to help,

But they can’t.

Well, most of them.

Sometimes the easiest way to deal with things is to hide.

Hide away and jump into a different world, a world of comfort.

Only in that world of comfort can no harm come to you.

You can’t fall if you don’t jump.

Stay within the embrace of a hug forever and you will never regret it.

If you like my writing be free to send me a TubMail and I’ll hook you up with some more.

PS: My first post in the Flamebate forums O_o

Word on “it’s pretty much all subjective”. If there’s anything I’ve learned from reading and writing poetry, it’s that there is never one correct answer to anything. Poetry is the most subjective form of literature. That’s why it’s fun to write.

Pseudonymph: I think this contest excites you because actually a contest of skill, not a “post here/friend me and I’ll randomly pick someone to give 3 BP” contest. =)

“Phoenix”

Meet its crystal gaze

Your soul will burst ablaze

Eye to Eye its deathly glare

Try to kill it if you dare

The beast will cast its stare

Leaving you in disrepair

It beckons with explosive heat

This is one tough foe to beat

Scathing flames and scorching trees

Every last opponent flees

As you can see, it’s clearly vile

Punishment without a trial

Brace yourself, the mbumive flare

Smashing you into despair

Delving deep into your mind

Wisdom will be blind

Once exposed, its breath of shadow

Every speck it will devour

No second chance, no extra life

Don’t go down without a fight

Don’t be fooled, or in denial

Your efforts are futile

You will suffer in defeat

As history WILL repeat

Hard or fast; it doesn’t matter

You’ll still crash into the waters

Once again the hero loses

With much more than mere bruises…

Look into my eyes of dark

And let me say this last remark

To avoid this ghastly fate

Steer clear- the bird of hate!

Memories…

Memories… they are always with you

memories… they never leave

memories… they are ever-coming…ever happening… ever occuring

memories… treasure them now, tomorrow, and every day after

memories… barely biased… they stay even if everything else leaves… never follow the crowd

memories… you keep them up until your final hours

memories… they define who you are

memories… they are only yours… and no one else may fully understand them

memories… recorded every day and played back in your dreams so you never forget

memories… do you really want to have bad ones? or just the good ones?

...the choice is up to you…but remember this… not only do you have to pay for he bad ones while in the concious state, but also in the sub-concious state as well… It will tear you apart until there’s absolutely nothing left… but the bad… then where do you go?

memories… ever faithful and ever helpful… but if abused through selfish and stupid actions, they are ever haunting and ever painful.

I walked through the park 2 minutes till midnight and

thought myself a citadal

Now these four walls shrivel and wither

Mourning the unsung hero

——-

I thought myself a citadel,

and fell to no fearsome blade

One word is all it took

A martyr has she made,

In a soldierless war.

——-

The stone shield is defeated

By a wave of a hand

My stainless armor decays

With a single putrid glance

I am not a fighter, I am not strong –

Enough.

——

One word is all it took

To shatter and dismay

A war without fighters

Has ended today.

————- “Chaos” ————-

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Here’s my world on pause:

Here’s my life replayed.

Here’s to the logic of hate,

Here’s to my fatal mistake.

————————-

I am the winds of disorder

The slayer to your warder

————————-

I am the ropes of lightning

That pierce through the sky

————————-

I am a shadow, a storm

Ever ready to transform

—————————

I am the rain of fire

That flares the world’s ire

—————————

I set souls alight

I am the meaning of night

—————————

I roll the die of fate

One minute too late.

—————————-

I bind all to Quicksand Time

I free the damned, sublime.

——————————-

I unmask the forbidden,

And keep the hidden.

———————————

I paint reality its false colors.

I am Chaos.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Here’s my second entry:

Say the word and I’ll skip

along to the beat of your song,

you wild rascal jitterbug,

bastard of a cricket and a bumerfly;

you fly into the blue glbum bowl of the sky.

You lilac pretender, you twirl me

around, right round baby,

and I’m light-headed with wrongs,

and I’m trying, trying to skip right along—

until I, little catepillar, will twirl right

off your finger, swing into the

starry black mbum of the night,

spin out of orbit, head singing

with visions of green gables,

and I’ll crash into the concrete,

bounce into the lawn; I’ll sprawl in the

million pricking blades of plants,

pbumive. I, dagger of grbum,

will wait for the sun’s tears

on my sunny cheek,

and I won’t feel

a thing.

i never write poetry in english, but here’s a go at it

­

love, i’m tired and i’m old

but you know that, don’t you love?

the spirit fades and my glbum eye can’t see the sky

and we’re still here instead of gone

­

love, my mouth tastes like tobacco

but i don’t mind much nor should you

and you think you see a story in my eyes

but there isn’t any really

so i’ll just tell you shameless lies

I don’t envy the judge.

anyway, here’s my entry:

It doesn’t matter how much you

polish

spit shine

sand and varnish, varnish and sand

throw them in a tumbler until they’re more beautiful than you ever could have thought at the beginning;

They’re still just words.

And that no matter how much you

sugar coat them

embellish them

revise them;

the simplest sentiment is often the best.

That said,

I’m sorry you’re gone.

and

I miss you.

[—————————-TIME—————————-]

Time’s a whirlwind, a maze, a shadow, a blaze.

A river of quicksand, a city of smoke,

A rainbow castle, a master stroke.

————

It’s a play, a game, a movie, a name.

A star of illusion, A gate of pain,

A torrent of water, a cyclone of flame.

———-

It’s a bomb, a cog, a blade, a bone.

A juggernaut, a clock

A memory, in stone.

———-

Time is master of all and slave of none.

What is cast by Chronos is not undone.

[————————————————————————————-]