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. 

Now...nothing.

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

Nothing

You reply

How do I change

The Circumstances?

I wasn't given a chance

Shot down I was.

Damn 

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?