Poems of a teenager

This story is long and sarcastic and unfinished. DY

When love starts off on the wrong foot, maybe it is easier to assume that it will carry on on the wrong foot, and perhaps trip on the proverbial relationship road to love, and fall headfirst into the ditch of lost hopes, lost dreams and lost socks; only because this is the way of all true love, and starting on a right or wrong foot does not really matter. There are always a few who hold the sentimental clichés of ‘I saw his face across a crowded supermarket’ or ‘Our hands touched as we reached to grab the last bag of toilet paper’, and truly believe love will hit them in the back of the head, much like a fatal arrow, or chewing gum. These unfortunately are the ones who will spend their lives alone, or with ten times their body weight in writhing cat.

It is not that your beloved author does not believe in love, it is just to say that when it does, bad things often follow – I give of course the reliable and historically accurate examples of Romeo and Juliet, Cleopatra and what’s-his-name, and a couple other thousand whose names I always forget – and so, for the sake of my little story we shall say that love equals death.

You see the chubby little cherub, Cupid. You see his large curly locks, filled with life and vitality, the child himself a symbol of innocence and youthful play? I know as sure as the sky is green and the grass a vibrant blue that beneath those bounteous locks lie the trademark horns, showing him to be the mischievous devil he portrays.

It was locks such as these that stole the heart of our unfortunate heroine – how could she resist? One glimpse of those dark locks – and they were dark, unlike his partner in crime – and she was a goner.

Daniel Brown – such an ordinary name for such an amazing specimen – even the cynical and stony core of this hard hearted author suffered a flutter at her first sight of him. It is not so much the facial features of this devil in disguise; it is the confident aura he exudes, the musk of manliness, the breath of fresh ‘babe’ if you will. No person with ears, eyes or a sense of smell could resist. Not at all.

Like Glass

So she exudes a glassy demeanour,
Sits and frowns, and scowls and –
They can see through it.
Clear as day, that
She is fragile,
Unlike a flower or feather,
The softest whisper could
Break a heart
Craze a mind
Send shivers down a frozen spine

But do they know she wants it?
Can they see the eager eyes that burn like fire in a frozen frame?
The melting.
The power is in the shatter of glass
that could pierce or join two hearts
The fire.
The burning or the lust?
The lonesome and in love.

This poem is sweet and innocent and summery DY

And there’s only just a wisp of smoke that floats across the sky
And there only is a falling leaf that slowly passes by
Theres just a hint- a whiff – of scent,                   of flowers in the June

There’s me, there’s you
The old and new
The opposites attracted.
One day of bliss
A tear stained kiss
And my heart was contracted.

The scent of rose
A falling leaf
A whisp pf smoke
And me and you.

Never meant to be

An orange sun sets in a red sky.
Grass and flowers mingling their colours to a blur.
Her hand wring a death toll.
Please, no
Fingers twining
Heart racing
Sky to grass
From sky to grass.

The image of a dream in khaki and jeans.
Body heat is searing
Intensely heted awareness
His hand reaches out to take hers
Please, no
Don’t try
Palms sweating
Head throbbing
Mouth aching
Just say it!

And a part of her died that spring day…

The Flowers

I see flowers,
With petals yet young
And soft,
Flushed the colours of dawn,
Turning their heads to the sun.

I see petals,
Perched as vibrant birds,
Quivering gently with the breeze,
As if unsure,
Yet proud and vivid still.

But later,
When the dazzling colour darkens,
And the soft blush has gone,
It seems a single silent petal
May Fall.

Lights flash
Electricity of certainty

Hearts beat
Always in time
Smiles grow
Love flows
From his hand to mine

The electricity of certainty
A love thats always true
A love that flows from core to core
That flows from me to you.

From the Inside looking Out

In her head
I could see all the dark
And all the twisting
Shame of all the lies
That flew like bats
Of a dark cave.

In her head
Alongside with her vanity
I see her slipping sanity
And all the tears that fell
Inside and just alone
And only in her head.


Did you ever get a head rush?

Did it wrap you like a turban?
Or cut you like a knife?
Did it make you feel uncertain?
Make you take your life?

Did you ever feel unruly?
Want to jump and shout?
Need to thrash and roar and scream
Battle it all out?

Did you take a breath when finished?
Sigh with deep relief?
Wipe the blood from off your hands
And spit out your lost teeth?

Step into the blood rush
Snatch a taste of life
Steal what beauty you can’t make

What you want, you take.

Didn’t mean to hurt you

It was the selfish, not the selfless
That made me act this way
I know that I would hurt you-
Sad you had to learn this way
I love you both, and deeply,
But I really couldn’t choose
So in this game of love and life
I guess I’m gonna lose.


~ by jeditopcat on 8 November, 2008.

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