×

Little Blue DotThis space was filled to stroke
our egos, growing to a
leviathan size,
because losing our way
on this little blue dot
was all we were
ever meant to do

We think that we're
the end all, the be all,
the epitome of evolutionary success,
but we've isolated ourselves
from nature, and tricked ourselves
into believing
that technological progress
is an acceptable substitute
for natural selection

InkShadows creep along the wall
Clouding the edge of your vision.
Terror hits you at your core,
the cold in your chest freezes

The unknown steals your breath,
the darkness halts your movements.
Inky blackness feels like death,
so you surrender to your fate

Crafting NamesEverything he touched,
he gave a name
to show how much
he cared for it

The names were
beautifully crafted,
even for the most
seemingly hideous of things

The names were
perfect, encompassing every
characteristic perfectly,
succinctly, and wonderfully

Everything he touched,
he loved equally,
but the tragic part
is that no one ever knew

PalatableHer body was filled
with wordless emotions
that bled into
each other,
like a not-quite-dry
oil painting
left in the rain

No matter how hard
she tried, she couldn't
separate the red
from the blue, nor the
blue from the yellow,
so she was left
with a muddled mess
of shades and hues

So she waited
and allowed
her emotions to mix
until the colors mixed
and became uniform,
but she realized
that this was no way
to live, that life
was never a single shade

Today, the colors
run, with new
shades and hues
discovered each day;
she embraces them
as a part of being
human, as undesirable
as the resulting
palate may be

ForcedSilence forced by a stranger's hand
cutting breath so short.
The frenzied thoughts of a sickened mind
turn it into sport.

Happy Birthday to AnyoneAnother year older,
another year wiser.
I'm not so old
that I'm now a miser

I'm quite philanthropic;
it's plain to see
through this happy birthday
to you, from me

So blow out your candles,
be happy and smile
to make your birthday
even more worthwhile

Super Counselor"But Connor," she complained in her squeaky voice, looking up at me with puppy eyes, "I don't want to go swimming right now."

"But Sarah," I explained, "it'll help you cool off, since it's so hot today."

"But you're not going in," she retorted, not giving up. She was surprisingly stubborn for a six-year-old.

"That's because I forgot my swimsuit today, sweetheart, but I've been drinking water all day!"

The first part was true, but the second part was a lie. I had worked at camp for a few years. It was long enough to know that the truth sometimes had to be stretched to get the kids to do what they were supposed to.

I usually went swimming

JusticeSlashing ribbons in the name of justice,
Red wine flows; it stains the streets.
Gushing out of pipes, the beat slows.
A clammy calm left in your wake

Acrid smoke taints the air, erasing all evidence,
By your blade, divine justice is dispensed

Such FragranceDeep, rich brown below
Thought of as filthy, useless,
but with such fragrance

FoundationsLookng to the future,
but always using the past
as a reference, a guideline,
so history does not repeat

Older technologies,
outdated beliefs.
Always the structure
for the bigger, the better

Without a strong,
tested foundation,
who are we
to claim we've advanced?

With a ge comes wisdom,
and the young'uns look up in awe
At the sheer beauty wrought
by generations passed

And with each passing decade,
the old grow older.
With that, however,
comes infinite respect

So respect your elders,
and learn from the past
because one day that knowledge
just might save your ass

Practical ArtAngela was an artist, but not in the conventional sense. She didn't use canvas and paint, and the idea of sculpting something made out of a material as mundane as clay made her want to vomit. She loathed the idea of creating art for art's sake; anything she made, she wanted there to be a practical use for it, something beyond decoration.

She labored on each piece she created for countless hours, making sure every detail was perfect. Sometimes it could take months for her to finish a single work. She'd always ask me to take a look at her pieces and demanded that I point out something she could improve upon. I was never an artist myself, but t

Heart of Iceshe wishes for a heart of ice

a heart to hide her fears

she wishes for a heart of ice

a heart to freeze her tears

but if her heart of ice meets fire

then perhaps it will thaw

for if her heart of ice meets fire

she will surely pour out her emotions raw

wanti want someone
to tell me
the honest-to-God
truth
about me
someone to say, "ugly girl,
your eyes are too small
your legs too short
your knees are scabby, your hands
covered with ink, the stain of lies
smile too big in the voice
of a little girl"

(i want someone to tell me
these things
or i'm afraid
i'll never know)

i want someone
to want to know
the honest-to-God
truth
about me
someone to ask, "odd girl,
why do you laugh into your hand
like it's a mystery you can't tell the world
spin in circles, sing out loud
yell your secrets and hide
your thoughts
why do you pass tests to be stupid
and why do you speak
words

MeNobody knows the real me.
I keep her locked safely inside.
Only the closest get to see her.
Other than that she remains hidden.
Hidden from the world.
I see myself as lower than low.
Worthless to all.
That is how I protect myself.
Yet, all I do is hurt myself.
One place I cannot hide myself from,
My writing.
There the real me breaks through.
My true emotions spill out.
Me is breaking free.
Little by little,
One word at a time.
I am being effected, by this girl,
She is escaping my words.
Breaking free.
Soon she will be seen by all.
Me, myself and I will be one again.
There to shine brightly for all the world to see.

The quiet onesThe Quiet Ones

It's the quiet ones you have to watch out for:
the ones who sit in class, doodling in their notebooks.
Alone they're harmless and keep to themselves.
But don't be fooled, their brains are a flurry of activity.
Put two or more of them together, and you'll wonder what the heck happened.
These "quiet ones" start talking, start plotting.
They've planned each other's brutal deaths....multiple times.
They've discussed the zombie apocalypse....and how they'd start it.
The end of the world has four backup plans....to ensure its demise.
And you can almost guarantee your death has been penciled in for next Tuesday.
So be caref

Browse More Like This

More from ~CDing93

Bittersweet I'll never forget my years as a camper at Dry Mountain Summer Camp. Those were some of the best summers of my life. The camp was separated by gender and age in groups we called villages. I enrolled when there were three years remaining that I could attend as a camper. Those years as campers were known as the "older" years. What did you do as an older camper? Whenever you were with your sister village, the village of girls that were the same age as you, you tried as hard as you could to fool around with the girls and not get caught by the counselors. Back then I didn't see what the big deal about fooling around was.

Each village was divided

Who You AreBe who you are
If you are who you are;
Act on what you feel,
And you will go far

Live for yourself,
And do for yourself
Do not seek the approval
Of anyone else

Do what you love,
And all that you love
And share it with others;
Openness that makes the world blush

In the FoldNinety-nine sheep, safe in the fold
But one little lamb is left out in the cold
His brethren think his life is over and done,
But in reality, it has only just begun.

Its path is written by the red thread;
The young babe will have to find its own bread.
The infant will grow up alone, but strong
Proving all those who thought otherwise wrong

When lone little lamb returns to the fold,
It will show the benefits of living in the cold.

View Gallery · View Prints

Featured in Groups

Show all (9)

×

Back Then

by ~CDing93, Nov 15, 2012, 12:29:12 PM
Literature / Poetry / Human Nature / Free Verse

Looking back,
everything was so simple,
so pure.

Laughs everywhere,
not a care in the world
Those years were nice
Maybe even the best so far

But with age comes
a burden: knowledge.
To know life
is to truly know despair

So during the
worst of times,
I choose to forget
and be pure once more

119

17 19 1

Back Thenby ~CDing93

Favourite

Description Details Share

Download HTML download, 464 bytes

Yep, another poem. I've got a bunch more that I'll be posting over some period of time. I'm trying to write poetry more often, since I don't have the time to write stories.

Let me know what you think! Any comments would be much appreciated!

Details

Stats

Submitted on: November 15, 2012
File Size: 464 bytes
Submitted with: Sta.sh

Views: 119
Favourites: 17 (who?)
Comments: 19
Downloads: 1

~~joy 0 0~~

~~wow 0 0~~

~~mad 0 0~~

~~sad 0 0~~

~~fear 0 0~~

~~neutral 0 0~~

~TheShanar Dec 3, 2012 Hobbyist General Artist

I enjoyed this poem, as it conveys what you are trying to say quite nicely. It feels a little more like prose than poetry, but perhaps that was your intention. Altogether, excellent work.

Reply

~CDing93 Dec 3, 2012 Student Writer

My prose and poetry tend to sound like each other, if that makes sense. I'm not really sure if it does. Thank you for the input, though! I appreciate it

Reply

~wisshhfullthinking Dec 1, 2012 Hobbyist General Artist

Kind of my life story.

Reply

~CDing93 Dec 1, 2012 Student Writer

It's a lot of people's life story. For some, it just takes longer to reach certain parts than others

Reply

~wisshhfullthinking Dec 1, 2012 Hobbyist General Artist

That's life I guess

Reply

~CDing93 Dec 1, 2012 Student Writer

Could be

Reply

Mood: Love

~Narutolover07 Nov 17, 2012 Hobbyist General Artist

I love this so much! ^ ^ It makes me think of my life.

Reply

~CDing93 Nov 18, 2012 Student Writer

I'm glad you enjoyed it!

Reply

~WoodSong44 Nov 16, 2012

im a bit of a poet myself and this is really good

Reply

~CDing93 Nov 16, 2012 Student Writer

I'm glad you enjoyed it!

Reply

Previous
1
2
Next