a few poems
Sing, oh Muse, and remind the world of days of old;
Of souls, green and graceful,
the objects of an immortal inclination;
Of armored heroes thrown
into a tartarus of blood and hatred
by their parents above,
those who created you to aid them when insight was lost;
Of others of different visions and drives,
bellicose bronze brazen broken.
Their legacies seem tenuous, and yet you remember them still.
~My obsession with epic poetry is rearing its head. I think this must have originated from a prompt, but the details are beyond me now. And then I edited it later as well.
Where the glip met the zific
I met the bibbletong.
His nose was as bright as a ripe red cherry
And his eyes were the color of plums.
As he sat there, humming a tune from the east,
He told me his troubles with glibbles, such beasts.
For his dream was to sing on the opera stage,
and it had been since he was small.
But the glibbles would laugh
And tell him to paint,
since he did that better than they could.
~I'm not even sure I was in high school when I wrote this. I deeply appreciated poetry when I was younger and had immersed myself in the art form. This has been my only attempt at nonsense poetry, and I feel like that's a shame. It was fun to write.
Even if we lived on opposite sides of the earth,
It wouldn’t be far enough.
You have always managed to be the mosquito in my ear,
droning, incessant, aggravating,
Unless I took you down.
Whenever you're around, I try to block you out,
But just like the loud chirping of birds,
Waking me up in the early hours of the morning,
You challenge my patience.
I’d wish you to the moon,
But that wouldn’t be far enough.
~Another remnant from childhood. It was definitely edited later on, rewording and all, but the animosity can only have originated in my young mind.
~dys