Nisanre's Story :: My Poetry

My Poetry This is some of the poetry I've written over the last couple of years...I hope you enjoy it! The way is dark and narrow The path I cannot see. I wander through the darkness Not knowing where I go. Dragons, Goblins and other such beasts Bar my way: I cannot pass My heart beats fast as they challenge me Until their thresholds I cross One light there shines on my road It shines so far away. It is my only hope, my beacon It guides me on my way. Some day I'll find my way there Though dangers I must pass And arms spread wide and open Will welcome me at last. Sometimes I may falter Or trip on a root and fall But always the light shines brightly And helps me find my path. So forever I'll go onward Pressing towards the light For I know some one's waiting For me to return home. At last. The One The one to whom I turn to When life sends me for a fall The one to whom I run to When my life hits a wall The one to whom I talk to If ever I have fears The one to whom I walk with To help me through the years The one with whom I fall with When people tear us down The one with whom I laugh with When all my life is frowns The one that truly loves me And who I hope will always see My wonderful sweet mother I will always love thee. 3/10/03 Dedicated to my mom My Inspiration This one, I wasn't sure if I was going to post, because it's not one of my favorites, but...well I don't really like my poetry in the first place so maybe one of you will find some use for it. :D It was written in response to the 9/11 attacks... which you can probably guess from the context, but just in case you can't tell... Why? A Plea from America Why do they hate me so? I never did anything to them All I do is try to work Try to help when someone is in need Why do they hate me so? Why must they scorn what I do? I've protected them before But when I try to protect myself They cry and shout, "Injustice!" Why must they scorn me so? Why must this pain be mine? People cry; I try to comfort them They thank me by turning into my enemy And they hate anything I do Why must this pain be mine? Why do they hate me so? I give comfort, but who will comfort me? I live right, and do what they want But I can't stand much longer Why do they hate me so? 3/12/03 As a result of my creative writing class, I have been able to start whipping through my poetry. This was the first piece that I wrote, hope that you enjoy it! and I hope that the form works... The Fear The darkness hangs oppressive above me And I pull the soft downy quilt to my chin -the only shred of comfort I have left. My eyes ever watchful for the shadows that Without warning Could spring from beneath me I whisper to the stillness Hoping for some response But none ever comes I try to scream but my lungs won’t allow -No sound Just the ringing in my ears Echoes of the whisperings from yesteryears I mumble a hasty half-hearted prayer to dispel the feeling But no relief comes The darkness remains Silence: I try to push the shadows out of my mind Imagination; pixie dust cannot save me this time The cold cruel fingers of night wrap Around my throat and squeeze All the air leaks slowly out as the room collapses I try once again to cry out but again nothing happens Even if I had uttered a sound it would not have been heard For the room collapses around me Squeezing Suffocating Shadows rise I close my eyes And open them again, with hope that all evils have passed all danger disappeared But nothing changes Nothing disappears All is as it was I close my eyes and wish And wish And wish... 2/18/04 I'm going to add three poems today, because I feel like sharing them, they are all of the same "theme" and I particularly like them. Also all were inspired by my CW class. My Favorite Book As we all know I'm a fantasy goil Based in legends and myths And times of much toil Where elves leave the beauty Of the land of their birth In the hands of those mortals Where trust hath just spurth I almost can see The magical wands Of the wizards around me Of whom I've grown fond I cannot believe The joy in my heart That often comes o're me When heroes depart On marvelous adventure With dangers unknown From which they're not to return 'till their wisdom hath grown I yell at the characters I think have done wrong Causing eyebrows to raise For periods so long Tears fill my eyes At the end of the tale Whether happy or sad The author'll not fail For a am a girl, Of a fantasy race Legends and myths Will ever light up my face. Books & Me I open a book A wonderous tale Of dragons, beasts And wizards in mail With time to share The brand new pages Pow'r come from the past The strength of the ages No matter what The tale may be The posed ideas Bring new life to me. The world showed With in my light mind Images recalled From times behind Often I wonder If my stories untold Will light the mind of a reader With wisdom unfurled Dead Men Tell No Tales Dead men tell no tales. The words resound Through a heart of gold. Some may say that's true but of all the lies ever told This is the most manifest. The dead tell the stories Often more than the living. Shakespeare, and Hawthorne, Dickens and Homer, Shelly and Wolfe All writers, tellers of tales All dead, they continue with their words. A small forced cavern, gold glittering a skeleton Can tell a million stories: Of pirates, Vikings Lost love and harder times So many stories So little time If dead men tell no tales Then why do we spend So much time writing our histories And trying to find out What happened in the past It is pointless to even try Because dead men tell no tales. The third one is one of my favorite poems I've ever written because it is something that I feel very passoinately about ... oh, one thing, please tell me if anything in my poetry doesn't make sense... I'd like some criticism... Another one for my CW class... I like this one... it has a little different theme... one that I really got into by the end of the year I think... I'm going to include the prose I wrote after it, to help clarify what I mean... not that you need it, since y'all are smart! :D Cold Flashes Snow suit in the blaring wind Gloves, has, boots, All together Smiling at the long time friend The snow so cold and clean and white A distant flash Of times now gone A young girl my age Shivers in a tattered dress Full of holes Glaring at the snow: Her enemy. A snow ball thrown Brings me back A very cold nose And fingers numb with play I want to stay out in the snow. Shivering again Another snow ball in times past Thrown in mockery I wish I could get out Again I’m home Standing by a tree Hiding like the heroine Of my favorite movie of the time I am cold, but I don’t notice I’m having too much fun! A person looks out The small paned window A tiny figure: a heroine In her own small way Refuses to fall. Her spirits carrying through. Time to go back in side My mother says with a small and quiet smile. I trudge in my boots Still trying to catch small snow flakes on my tongue. Alone once more Our young heroine Stands in the blaring light A door opens A six point star No one to see As the world collapses. Cold I trudge outside bundled up in my large snowsuit cringing the cold hard snow as I go. Underneath my footprints I see the frozen ground. Excitedly I run around with mirth the cold wind blowing the heavy sheet of snow into my face. I can feel as my nose and even my heavily gloved hands freeze: water molecules have a tendency to do that I'm told. My large boots squish the snow into large glacier looking holes. I stare up at the large and blaring sun. It shows another girl in a tattered dress, also in the snow. A six point star sewn to the inside of her wet vest that blows in the icy wind. Her dark brown hair wrapping around her head getting in her large brown eyes. Tears are frozen on her cheek and it seems that her eyes have blurred. Her bare feet staining the perfect whiteness red with her blood. She shivered, her lips blue and her teeth chattering. So cold. My eyes return to the surrounding area. My house behind me and a few scattered trees in front. My brother running around yelling with joy, I follow. Cold wet runs down my face and my brother laughs "stupid sister!" Indignantly I fling a slop of my own. As if flies through the air, a glowing picture begins to show. "Jewish slime" the snowball hit her face and she stumbled in her tracks. All hope faded she was glad she had no tears left in her, she wouldn't want to cry in front of the abuser. "Why are they so mean?' The most frequent question of the time. "Stupid brothers" I said my fury rising again as more cold water runs down my face. I laugh and begin running after him. I laugh until my mom comes out and calls us in. I am cold and tingling, knowing it was time to go in, but not wanting to leave the fun I was having, I walked slowly towards the house. Once inside I look out the window. A solitary figure from the past tattered and torn standing, staring, as she's called home. A silver star above her stand as her legs crumble, and she and her world collapse. This next poem is something I wrote just yesterday. It's a little shorter than other parts of my poetry... but, nonetheless.... A bit of a different subject matter. An extended hand soft and warm wrapped around my own sends shiver up my spine and butterflies to my stomach He treats me like a princess a goddes or an empress A rose among the thorns Even pearls come from sand Kisses from a Shadow on my cheek and hand filling heart and soul forever I'll be complete.	Nisanre's Story
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