macabrescribe
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I wrote this a while back. I don't think it's all that good, but somehow it's has "moved" people. It even won this poetry contest for young adults. I'm not sure why...
"Naked for all to see"
Naked for all to see,
Vulnerable everywhere,
I stand here exposed.
No longer do I have any
Secrets.
Nevermore will I be able to
Lie.
Everybody now knows
everything.
I shrivel into myself,
Bowing my head,
Trying to hide from view,
Pretending I don’t exist.
I do, though…
I’m the complete opposite
Of that which is
nonexistent.
From here on, they’ll know
Me for who and what I am.
Maybe this is good, maybe
bad…
In no way will I ever have
To act as though I am
something I’m not,
Make believe that
everything’s okay.
I guess it’s fine that I’m
standing
Before them, naked.
Perhaps I should do it more
often.
Reply #81. Sep 16 08, 7:02 PM
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| LyrA2
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I liked your poem. Whom ever it was about perhaps feels as though a huge weight has been lifted from their shoulders. Well done!
Chloe
Reply #82. Sep 17 08, 8:35 AM
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AnneBonney 
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That is a wonderful poem and I'm not much into poetry. Good job! :)
Reply #83. Sep 17 08, 9:57 AM
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| Star_Seeker
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...I felt the same way some time in my past...Being "naked" is something that we should do once in a while...Because we should learn to love our-self and our own persona...By opening up, you let go of gravity and become electric...Like Bananas!...(which is weird)...Blessed Be!...~Star_Seeker...^_^
Reply #84. Sep 17 08, 6:46 PM
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| Star_Seeker
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...Touch...
When I touch something, I try to feel
If emptiness is really real
I focus myself on the skin and cohesion
Adhesiveness brought about by the friction...
When someone touches me, I feel special
Because That means I am also essential
When the kaleidoscope of friction rubs me on
I open up my eyes...then move on...
When touch is not as abundant as trash
I remember things that I haven't really found
Things that is purely out of the box
Imagination is something that touches and I can't get enough
Touch me in ways out of the ordinary
That really sounds sexy...well...go on...but don't hurry
When you touch, you let go
You give something from you...Gold or not...It's something...huh?...
...~Star_Seeker...^_^
Reply #85. Sep 17 08, 6:57 PM
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macabrescribe
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Well put, Star_Seeker. And thank you.
Reply #86. Sep 17 08, 7:04 PM
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| Star_Seeker
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...Oh!...That was nothing!...If you have more poems. I'll be more than glad to "mind-melt" them...I am a poet too!...I've added you on my friend list because I only have a few...Your poem touched me somehow...because It seems to be about you...Blessed Be!...~Star_Seeker...^_^
Reply #87. Sep 17 08, 7:37 PM
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AmonAmarth
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"Twelve Years of Nothing" by M. Shane Walling
Ashes.
Floating in the breeze they blot out the sun.
A blanket of grey.
I want to breathe it in.
Erase these memories, erase this pain.
Erase the torment that I've endured.
Smoke.
Roaring past my eyes it takes form.
In it, I see you.
You, looking at me as you always did.
A look in your eyes that shows regret, embarassment, and shame.
I despise that look.
I swat at it to make it go away.
The smoke swirls before me.
Flames.
Rising to an imeasurable height.
My past burning before my eyes.
The orange-red glow highlights my face.
The heat warms my soul.
It promises me a new beginning.
One I will accept with open arms.
Twelve years of nothing engulfed in flame.
Embers.
They pop and crackle, sparks spraying around my feet.
Remnants of a past riddled with heartache and pain.
Nothing left, but hot, red coals.
A close resemblence to the anger that burns in my heart.
The fire fades.
The smoke clears.
My past is gone.
History.
What will my future hold?
Reply #88. Apr 16 09, 8:54 PM
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fredfrank
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I like it Shane.
Reply #89. Apr 16 09, 10:01 PM
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AmonAmarth
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Thanks Danny! I'm sure you and most of the Chain Gang can figure out this one's meaning. You all know my past better than anyone, lol.
Reply #90. Apr 16 09, 10:06 PM
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fredfrank
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I figured it out :)
Reply #91. Apr 17 09, 2:07 AM
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MarchHare007
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Future......
Seeing all clearly but with some trepidation
One step at a time, Into the unknown.
Searching for something familiar,
Knowing that it's in your hands.
Feeling lost,excited, unwanted and cold
Needing to know how to proceed.
Seeing a blank canvas waiting to be moulded
Held by history, coloured by pain.
Douse the embers.
Breathe the clear air, stretch your wings
Take my hand.....
And Fly again.
Reply #92. Apr 17 09, 11:10 AM
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AmonAmarth
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Now that made me smile, J. A very nice thing of you to add to my poem. Thank you so much. My future already looks brighter. I'm extremely lucky to have a friend like you.
Reply #93. Apr 17 09, 12:29 PM
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MarchHare007
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Likewise Fiend!
You have often brightened my day - It's nice to be able to return the thought! :)
Reply #94. Apr 17 09, 12:46 PM
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| TBarber9
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I havnt done one of these in a few years but here it goes. i mught have a little poet rust though.
I see a dot.
It gets closer every secone.
I get closer to it.
It gets closer to me.
I look at it.
It looks at me.
I talk to it.
It talks to me.
It asks my name.
I ask its name.
I tell him my name.
It tells me its name.
It says its name is dot.
Reply #95. Apr 17 09, 7:09 PM
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stuthehistoryguy
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I will try to write beauty.
I will abandon the depths of hate and rage;
Their ebony pits have tempted me long enough.
I will put down the mirror of death;
Its reflection will catch up to me in its own time.
I will turn away from the ugliness of my life;
It was made to be forgotten, not preserved.
I will try to write beauty.
I will reach to touch the wings of angels.
I will feel their feathers of air,
I will be swept in their wake,
I will bask in their wind,
I will ascend in their virtue.
I will strain to see the spectrum glittering vaguely in the crystal.
I will trace its patterns on my retinas;
I will dance them through my brain.
I will envelop myself in their glow;
I will shine with the light of a diadem.
I will try to write beauty.
I will embrace the little children,
Not damn their joy with my pathetic sorrow.
I will drink in the colors of the great painters;
I will bow to the portraits that my hand could never create;
I will absorb the love wrung from their pain.
I will lie prostrate before the Earth;
Her organic breath will run through my blood;
My mind will be lost to her depth,
And I will finally tire of listless words.
Reply #96. Apr 17 09, 8:06 PM
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MarchHare007
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Footprints in the sand
washed by a wave.
Footprints on the earth
blown by the mistral.
Footprints on the rock as I climb
to the top.
Handprints on the stone
eroded by time.
Blueprint of the world
viewed from space.
Galaxies aswirl
moving at pace.
Parallel worlds
existing in time.
Views of myself
running through my mind.
Atmosphere above
forming neverending clouds.
Showers of static
falling to the ground.
Torrential water falling
forcing river flow.
Seething sea churning
lapping at the land.
Walking in the water
feel the current flow.
Footprints in the sand.
Reply #97. Apr 17 09, 9:17 PM
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AnneBonney
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These are all very nice poems. Good job! I wish I could do it, but I can't.
Hope you're ok, Shane!
Reply #98. Apr 18 09, 11:34 AM
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AmonAmarth
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Me? I'm fine AB! Life is great for me at the moment. I wrote this a while back and just figured I'd post it. I've got a few more that I consider to be really good, but I'd get a good lashing for posting them here.
Reply #99. Apr 18 09, 4:33 PM
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cyberhen
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Hi Shane, nice to see you about.
Reply #100. Apr 18 09, 5:28 PM
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