Laurawrites.net

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Blog Poetry

Something Akin To Poetry

Originally Published at http://horrorwriter.diaryland.com/something1.html @8:33 a.m.

It’s a sad fact that poetry is a crap-market. It’s not lucrative or particularly successful unless you “know someone,” and even then, it’s a long shot. Often, any rhymed works eventually go to the domain, but every now and then, I’ll get a jumble of words together. I suppose since this is more of a personal area, I can make use of what I probably won’t use elsewhere.

I don’t really know if anything significant will come from them in the future, but here they are:

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Closure

An end to that time

A symphony of music

Serenades those good-byes

A closing door hit’s the threshold

A curtain is drawn

The lights go out

The flame extinguished

The eyes have dried

The wounds heal

And closure beckons beneath those sighs

 

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Who Are You

 

Who are you

Not the person I knew

Not the one who talked as often as I

Who are you

To speak of the truth

When all you know is all a lie.

Who are you

It can’t be true

I refuse to be wounded by the venom from your assault

Who are you

Your secrets shine through

And I know I never knew you at all

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Insomnia

 

I can’t sleep

Up half the night

Hiding sore eyes from vicious light

Dreams beckon

My body’s tired

Never thought I’d feel so uninspired

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I never really know what to do with those when they arrive. Sort of like the presents you get, and you really do appreciate them and enjoy them, but don’t really have anywhere to put them. They just sit there and look at you, day after day. You either make peace or just trash them.

So this is an attempt to appease.

The CSS study is going well. I can’t wait until I can incorporate more into the big site. It should make pages much more streamlined and efficient. Not to mention, saves on bandwidth. Yes, I’m a geek. I’m techie and I’m proud. I’m a gamer and I love Star Wars, the LOTR trilogy, and astronomy. Give me a pocket protector and I’ll be a happy girl.

Okay, this was poetry, I know. May your tales be twisted. Over and out.

 

 

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