Wednesday, June 8, 2011

Well, hell...

When I was a teenager, I used to write poetry all the time, and some of it was even good!  I had this great English teacher (though at the time, I thought he was a total nutbag who just happened to have momentary flashes of genius) who really encouraged my writing.  He would make the class listen to artists like Simon and Garfunkle, Joni Mitchell and Bob Dylan and write our own lyrics to some of their classics.  He would have us compare and contrast Bob Dylan and Dylan Thomas. I would write three to five poems a week. 


I try every now and then but it just feels forced. Looking back at the poetry I had written in the past, it was often pretty angst ridden but then I was a teenager, of comes with the territory.

Drunken Tail (this was written in the mind set of a lot of my peers at the time who loved nothing more than the taste of booze hitting their lips.  It depressed me a bit, because.. well because it's depressing knowing that your 16 year old friends were on the fast track to alcoholism/drug addiction.  Even typing this out now makes me a little sad.  I have a teenaged sister, and this is just terrifying) 

I don't know what to write
I don't know what to think
I don't know how to walk a line
Ev'ry time I drink this drink

I don't know where to say
I don't know what to look
I don't know how to stagger home
'Cuz my keys somebody took

To you, I might seem stupid
To me, I seem so smart
'Cuz to coherent think I do so well
It's almost like an art

Mommy, why you look so sad?
I made it home so soon
Is it 'cuz I'm drunk. for the second time
Even know it's only noon?

I know you think I'm a drunk
And you're probably a little right
But I'm only drunk thrice a day
And a couple times at night

And now I end my tale
As I mumble this strange thing
I'll read this in the morning
But I won't remember a thing 

Ode to Reena Virk (or Common Thread) (This was written for a friend's homework assignment that was due about 20 minutes after I wrote this.  Reena Virk was a teenaged girl who was brutally murdered near Victoria, BC and this was written during one of the many trials of the accused.. now guilty) 

We taunt and tease 
The different sons
To please the desires
Of the cooler ones

Dear Reena Virk
You have been wronged
You didn't deserve
Kelly's efforts to belong

You were attacked and beaten
Then left for dead
"We didn't do it!" 
The murderers said

Broken you were
At such a young age
Victoria's the place
Where your mother tears

This isn't a phase
Where we create the dead
This young woman's violence
Is a common thread. 

Undefined (I was in an angsty mood.  I was 17, what can I say?) 
I write the words
To ease the pain
But the pain is still there
What do I do now?
I say
You reply
How do I change
The Circumstances?
I wasn't given a chance
Shot down I was.
All you gun totin' Americans
Who's your president now?

Why I Love Coke More than Pepsi (Again, more 17 year old angst) 

Confusion is key
2 sanctity
Frustration's what I 
Need to be free...
Detruction unwanted.
Defamation common theme
Love unknown
Kindness unheard of
And everything we see is a registered trademark
of Coca-Cola 

Thoughts Within (The emo melodrama is kinda funny, looking back at it now.  I wrote this when I was 16) 

How did it happen?
When did it start?
How did it come to be
The day you stole my heart?

It seemed like forever
It seemed like three years
But it only took three, short weeks
To erase away the fears

Did you really love me?
Did you really care?
Did you really want forever?
Or this short-term love affair?

I wanted it forever
I wanted it to last
I wanted it - more than all the rest - 
To be different from the past

You're just like all the others
Baby, all you did was lie
The only time you told the truth
Was the night you made me cry

Now that things are different
Now that we're just friends
You remember when all you did was lie
Right to the bitter end

Now you want me back again
You want another chance
To prove your love will be no lie
If we start a new romance

But there's something you don't realize
Something you just don't understand
There's someone in the picture now
Someone to hold my hand

He cares for me, he comforts me
He never lets me go
He understands the pain I felt
He knows what there is to know

It hurts to see what you could have had
When you see what I have with him
But you understand, and it means a lot
When you keep your thoughts within 

By Their Own Hands - In Memory of Kurt Cobain (This is really disjointed. I considered refining it, so that it was at least narrated by one person, but I felt it was best to maintain the manic...prose)  
By their own hand
Their world came to an end
By their own hand
They had a message to send
By their own hand
They faded away
By their own hand
They had this to say:

If I say my heart is broke
Then help me try to mend it!
Don't ignore the words I spoke
By not trying to fix it
April 5ht was the day for him
But is it the day for you?
Ending it was the way for him
But is it the way for you?

I will always have something to say
So don't shut me up
I will not go away
So don't lock me up

By my own hand
I have brought up defeat
By my own hand
A victory bittersweet
By my own hand
I have ended today
By my own hand
I have no more to say 

These days, I can come up with a good line or two, sometimes even a full stanza but anything more than that is just not happening.  I sometimes wonder why it is that I can't write poetry anymore, but then looking back at these pieces, perhaps I never really could?  

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