since the day i first picked up a pen.
and had the urge to write some poetry.
i knew I’d write, till i grew to be a man.i wasn’t good, for i was a child then.
that wrote only, in verse that was free.
since the day i first picked up a pen-
that has not yet, rested since the day i began.
as I’ve been working, harder then a buzzing bee.
for i wanted, to be better as i grew to be a man.
i spent, more time in my father’s den.
comparing things to a growing tree.
since the day i first picked up a pen-
i grew older, and began writing for fun.
using the names, of things the eye could see.
so i b’came, good as i grew to be a man.
i now receive, much praise from the village clan. saying that their eyes, did…
Today Was neither good Nor bad. I woke from bed feeling slightly sad that my dream went mad but was more than glad That i still fed From the fruits of this land. This land, that offers a blend of mend and bend.
Eyes open to the skies I see the immense size Of this dome Beneath which lies my home.
This unforgiving land On which grow the trees. Where one might sail the seven seas Was never made to keep you on your knees Nor to please you in your ease.
Try to set sail And you’ll return to regale- Us with a tale That could make the masses wail. In this land One needs a strong will To sail the seven seas That can easily seize Your wish to arrive- Home in one piece.
When the High Seas cease To appear pleased That your ease Was blown away with ease By a mighty breeze And the storm conformed To tread thunder your way Hoping that you blunder Your way out of wonder. This land will make you ponder Why you decided to wander Outside of your border.
This land is chaos and order In no specific order All geared towards making you stronger.
But what happens when You’re standing by the stern With waves ready to condemn And sharks circling in?
When waves of worry Wash away visions of glory And crash against your sure Seeking to keep you from shore And to leave you on the sea floor Drowning in your flaws?
You may feel like throwing in the towel When the land makes you scowl As you prowl- With eyes of an owl How exactly to keep the ground Beneath your feet sound.
When the sky rumbles And the earth trembles. You’ll find yourself wanting to grumble And muffle a mumble when you stumble Upon the bundle That stayed you from the mantle.
When your hopes fall prey To the predators that stray Into the place were we stay Till way past after we lay For having a good day. You’ll find yourself wanting to say That nothing will ever be okay.
This land is old. This land is proud. And also very loud. It will crowd- You beneath a cloud Of your own doubt So that you might- Opt to adopt An attitude of negativity Towards reality.
This land is a force, it is gravity That cares not for pretty or witty. Kind and greedy Independent or needy You will fall to its gravity Because it knows no sympathy.
This land is clay It will mold- Your plans for the future Into a sculpture That remains unsure Of its pure nature.
What happens when a forest fire Leaves your crops dire? When it raises the level of your ire Until you tire Of growing them any higher? Will your mind sire- Sentiments that hire The services of thoughts That leave you in a mire? Or will we be left to admire The will of your desire to inspire.
When dawn decrees the rise Of your perceived demise And makes you realize That what your eyes See for truth is lies That leave you wanting a disguise So you never see the skies.
Will you accumulate dust When dusk Tries to bask In the hardening of your task? Or will you mask your lust That from here you want to bust?
What happens when The lightning lights Your peaceful night And sets your dreams in a fright So that you want to take flight And just end the fight Thinking that perhaps the light Was never ever your right?
When the peaks of Mountains May seem too far to reach Coz you’re no longer rich In mental clarity And deprived of the physical energy Needed to keep yourself upright.
And when finally You sag your shoulders in pain Falling boulders- Seeking to crush you in shame So that you want to blame The land for your pain. Know, face with an unknown name That that pain will one day be the bane That aids you gain The STRENGTH to STAND UP GO AGAIN AND WIN THE GAME!
No one can give you better advice than yourself.
Hey guys; thanks a milli for visiting my blog and taking the time out to read these figments of my imagination. I know my rhyme schemes are silly and perhaps a little willy but i really appreciate your appreciation for my passion.
In the name of silly things, make me the giddiest poet alive by following, liking and commenting on this joke of a page.