I liked Summer Breeze's ”haiku”. I like those small ”postcards”, if I can call them  that. Here is one:

 

”A bee flies from the the flower

of a water willow - 

spring has come.”

 

Or, since it's winter:

 

”Sitting here, freezing - 

my boiler died.

Where is the repairman?”

[SIGSEGV]

Edited November 12, 201411 yr by Ackshan Bemunah

strikingly strong verses, if i may notice:)

however, translating a poem will greatly diminish its "power"

translating a translation of a translation of a poem is admirable but often

futile, because such poem in the end can hardly be the same, even similar to its

original soul..

[SIGSEGV]

Edited November 12, 201411 yr by Ackshan Bemunah

i like the lyrics and singer`s voice:)

i find it hard to connect her voice with verses you posted earlier

is the author and translator same person, or?

[SIGSEGV]

Edited November 12, 201411 yr by Ackshan Bemunah

prefer your native, ack, in terms of poetry;)

[SIGSEGV]

Edited November 12, 201411 yr by Ackshan Bemunah

suit your taste:)

but poetry can never be as strong as in language in which it is written

seek poems of your people, before moving on some other:)

Struggle of an introvert

 

I walk around, faceless

I live my live unnoticed

wondering if I'll even be missed

every day I live a little less

 

I stand in the crowd

but I feel so alone

I want to go home

or scream out loud

 

being alone I fear the most

silence is my enemy

hollowness my company

fear cripples my ghost

 

my head just blacks out

my tongue a frozen lump

my god I feel so dumb

why can't I open my mouth

ahh, i know this one, sun:):)

its bursting from you,even now

well done..

[SIGSEGV]

Edited November 12, 201411 yr by Ackshan Bemunah

havent written poems for looong time. This one came to me recently on the cold winter morning. The one inspiring me, knows about it already :)

 

Your eyes are closed

You feel…yes, you feel the essence of sorrow.

Not those senseless thoughts of this world

Or fears of tomorrow.

You feel shabby, ragged and old

Your thoughts, your poems, your feelings are nothing

Cold.

But weird longing pain

Keeps you alive.

Or maybe insane.

You know the answer

As for you know and feel and absorb the core

of the universe

In you.

**

**

**

**

Your eyes are closed

You feel

the touch of the familiar breath

On your cheek.

Is it real?

Tristesse of your inner being

Suddenly loses its meaning

For and instant moment

Of eternity.

**

Your eyes are wide open and glare.

They stare

into the neverending

Dark and everlasting

Tunnel of my eyes

Filled with surprise.

 

**

Are you alive?

Smile.

here is another improv - from the moment I am in:

 

the hollow in this darkened place

grows larger than the day is long

the empty here, a hurting trace

of once the bluebird's trilling song

Let me tell you what I know.

You cast a shadow, watch it grow.

You chuckle to yourself, you smile,

Enjoy your doing for a while.

 

You listen to the screams of pain

For which that shadow is to blame,

You take your sit in the front row

Devouring the horror show.

 

Now, as the victim turns to dust

And as that shadow turns to lust,

Your heart is twitching satisfied.

Another soul’s been mortified.

 

After some time the screaming stops,

The show is done, the curtain drops.

You then proceed to play with light,

But find yourself engulfed by night. 

 

You shake your head in disbelief, 

You turn again searching relief,

But when you turn the road’s not there,

There’s only darkness everywhere.

 

A shiver strikes your fragile spine,

What instinct speaks you can’t decline.

For now it comes to take its toll,

It yearns for your expensive soul.

 

You should have known, the truth was there,

In black and white under your stare.

You wish to leave…”Oh no, dear friend”

“You stay right here, enjoy the end.” 

this was dark and twisted...love it. ^_^

Apprentice - that is a fantastic tale in prose.  Thanks!

When the shadow of the day
races far away
and the darkness of the night
unfolds with all its might

then, my child, do not fear
for I will always be near
Ever watching over you
untill the day you do so too

improv - written using three words taken from objects in the room around me at this moment:

 

picture

paper

bird

 

On paper, put a song,

A picture put to words.

Write what heals the hurt,

A minstrel like the birds.

Undeserving

 

It happened suddenly, in a moment,

As the sun gave you the spotlight.

You smiled and moved your mouth

And the whole world followed.

 

Yes, it was then that I realized I didn't deserve you.

 

So I decided to live with you in my thoughts instead of in my bed

(Although they overlapped on more than one occasion),

And as I turned away, my head cleared and my heart,

Well.

 

But I could never reach you, could I?

 

So I took a step, then two, then three,

And I've never felt such pain as I did

Walking away from you.

 

You,

With the sun in your hair,

The moon in your eyes,

And the world at your feet.

 

No, I could never reach you.

Edited March 5, 201412 yr by Max Mortlock

i salute!:)

    Find me I

Killers come at night to find me,

When night falls I'm hiding in a tree.

How much shall I wait?

Quite long I'll be bait.

Perhaps I'll become a bee...

My wings would let me fly along

Buzzing to the happy song

 

There is a hidden message in that poem, here's a hint: the length of the message is 7 characters long, spaces not included. Your reward for finding the message is KNOWLEDGE, I'll make sure to hide lots of it.

Edited March 5, 201412 yr by Rophs

Amidst bleak darkness, untold landscapes whereupon, 

If a even a lone shadow is to therein reside,

So must unforgiving light cast itself upon

And over the stark contrast unfeelingly preside.

 

Sanctimonious light, pure and untouchable;

Destroyer, clinging to a glimpse, longing desperate.

Encircling darkness, bleak and impenetrable;

Ever reaching for untold corners desolate.

 

A tale of two tyrants unlike any other,

Distant entities, uncaring and almighty;

And yet this tale they must weave against each other,

Forever toiling to work the grand tapestry.

 

Forces stranger and unutterable have tried,

All in vain, comprehension they always lacked.

Follow me, child, the road is long,

The night seems dark and silent.

And while you walk mumble a song...

For silence makes me violent. 

 

A man once said I'm made of gold, 

His words came like a flood...

I longed to trust in what he told,

But my gold's stained with blood. 

 

So count your steps and follow, child..

For the monsters count them too...

And when I'll welcome death's embrace,

Remember...our only hope is you. 

I hate, I do.

Oh how I wish I didn't.

Oh, but I do.

 

I think, and I think, and I think.

I hate that, too.