Poems

I don't want to die pretty
I want it to be a horrible gruesome death. centimeters from the ground.
I want it to be bloody; maybe a huge hole in my chest, a crack in my head.
I want it to be instantaneous
Glorious.
I want to die in the snow
On my own
So everyone will know
And remember.

I want to feel the most alive in the moment just before I die.
I want to know that I'm going to be done for good.
I don't want anyone to try and save me
if it is my time.
I want to be allowed to decide to save myself
if it is not.
I want to be sane and conscious when I go.
Thinking
How wonderful my life was.

To work would be too easy
Anybody can do that
But thinking is much harder
And thinking's where it's at!

Why would one betray their soul
To gain a little moolah?
When one could sing and write and play
And learn to dance the hula!

And who would ever want to lay
Out vulnerable to the sun?
When pale skin's respectable
And poetry is fun!

To capture thoughts and images
And set them in a line
Poised and ready for a battle
Inside the reader's mind

A poet's job is easy
But hard to understand
Thoughts inconceivably inextricable
Are put down by the hand.

this is a poem of teenage angst
the confusing state of mind
and awkward moments that entails
tightly bound thoughts
too cowardly to surface
only tears - of happiness? of disappointment with one's self?
brave the journey forward

it's delightful torture
a sadistic state of mind
toying with emotion
and someone else's heart
it's ecstacy
it's frightening and essential
but is it all a lie?

genuine contentment
in anothers' arms
that clichéd moment
that you hope will never end
then tragedy strikes
and awkwardness takes over
and you rush away to write it down

Cheers for beers
Just watch out for skiiers!
We're goin' on a steezy snowboarding trip...

I'm gonna take you all the way to the top
We'll just sit, talk, and wait for our stop
That never comes;
Because we slip, slide
We're lovin' the ride
And then we dip, dive
Carve tight to survive
Then there's the, what, DROP -
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
But we're still alive
Blazin' down the mountain's side

And then it's straight and now we're at a smooth glide,
We'll just think, talk, take time to decide
It's not THAT big;
Then a slight tail drag
And a speedy zig zag
Your heart skips a beat
But control your feet
Camber up and then SPRING..........................................So far from defeat
                                                                                   Lookin' for that right to brag

Now the feelings that I'm trying to explain
Are only recognized through hours of pain
From practicing
Because we twirl, float
But don't want to gloat
We just romp, play
It's just one more day
In our awsomely shred-happy lives

I tried to draw a feather
But it had an apple stem
Outside we have cold weather
And I'm writing this in Chem

I may be time-advantaged
I may have time to waste
It's 'cause my brain is damaged
And it has turned to paste

This is a nonsense poem
As you can probably tell
I want to build a totem
And kick and scream and yell!

I'd love to stop the rhyming
But this poem cannot end!
It's not for lack of trying...
My broken mind must mend

Alas I must resist it
I'm bored with writing now
And now it's time to kick it
Quit cold-turkey...Ow!

The little dolls in Mexico
Purple, pink, blue, and gold
A sadness gone too long untold
Trapped inside those dollies' souls
A buck or two that's all they cost
Some are better some are worse
No matter, all are cursed
The things they see every day
Could chill you to the bone
Sinew-skeletons: skilled at their trade
Half-dead bodies on parade
Little children on their own
On the streets; they have no home
A buck or two that's all they're worth
Some are better some are worse
No matter, they're all cursed
The things they see every day
Could boil someone's blood
Stillborn babes, catastrophes
Miracles and blasphemies
Bugs the size of half your head
And this doesn't even worry them
Crystal waters sandy beaches
Tennis courts and lack of leeches
This is what you're sposed to see
This is all I really know
A hundred bucks or two, that's what they cost
And yet it all seems for the worst
Because out there, all are cursed!
The things you don't see every day
Could chill you to the bone.

©opyright ME 2004

Now, I'm not being pessimistic
When I say life's cataclysmic...
'Cause in truth it's pretty fun!
But it's hard to keep a smile on
Waking up near later dawn
Knowing you're SO CLOSE to being
Called the number one...

So it seems to be acceptable
From your dad, and from your pals
To come in second or third...
But you really can't accept the fact
That you aren't keeping your friends' pact
Knowing you're being considered
For that place at number one...

It's hard, I know, but keep on smiling
Before the losses keep on piling
And know you can...and think you can
'Cause you CAN be number one!

Can someone please explain to me
What it is to be a teen?
My friends all think they have to date
But that's exactly what I hate...
And acting stupid or playing dumb
Make you "cool" and "number one"

Money's everything, and character's not
You can be a jerk and still be "hot"
Drinking's in, and so are drugs
But it's these two things that'll pull the plug!
People don't think about the consequence
Only what they can cause by dissonance!

So anyways...it's obvious things should change
But they can't and they won't and I'll accept that fate
I just wanted to get these feelings out
If you disagree, just explain your doubt!