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Sad Adventure Poems | Sad Poems About Adventure

These Sad Adventure poems are examples of Sad poems about Adventure. These are the best examples of Sad Adventure poems written by international PoetrySoup poets

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Details | Ballad | |

Signing Off

--Goodbye--To my Addiction-

The time has come to part,
I will leave many with broken hearts
If one day you call on me,
I'm sad to say I will hold my tongue missing each one relentlessly 
I'm not doing this for me; I am doing this for you
I could stay here and win, and not give in 
But, this soup bowl comes with demons and nasty shadows
Demons and nasty shadows, taking and crashing my light
Demons I had to fight off the entire time I was here
Shadows hating the way I welcomed every poet with a happy cheer
Demons and shadows whom drown in their selfish everyday pity.

For those smiling on my departure, 
I want you to have this wonderful gift 
So please copy paste this moment from the bottom of my heart
**I hope this gift brings you laughter, knowing 
I've been sad, these past few days, drying up my final soup tears**

I will miss this part of what makes me ME -my love and lust for poetry.
I agree with many I should never surrender to the envy of demonic dust
Giving up the passion that completed a part of my soul for years
But, the reality of life, is the life's I give and given when I make love happen
In my heart I know it's time to give myself back to reality
SO AT THE END I WIN, I'm the one who ends up with an everlasting smile
I'll finally be free from this place, where most treated me unfair & unkind
Free, from the negativity of the few who hide behind a dishonest disguise?

Wait until you notice your soup bowl's going stale
You will miss me, and I will miss you
But, my enemy will miss me even more
Reminiscing the times we spent hogging up 70% of blogs,
Arguing and fighting over not agreeing with many thoughts.
But, it was never the differences of opinions, it was more like---
Let's slay the Destroyer, a name like that should never be on top
So please know I am sad, and this is not the way I want to go
I'm not leaving you because I want to 
I'm leaving you because, the rumors are 
"The soup is better without the sweetness of the poet destroyer."
The only big thing about me -was my heart not my ego 
I never claimed to be the best; 
You're the one who claimed I am good enough
You took me in and returned my love
In ways others could and would not accept.
And for you my loving poet friends, and fans
I will walk away with my dignity/integrity; 
I can CARELESS IF I PLACE OR DON'T PLACE IN YOUR CONTEST
I guess I'm finally growing up 
In becoming the bigger/better poet.

Signing Off ---Love 
The Poet Destroyer


Details | Narrative | |

New Road

In a new road,
Rain will fall,
Wind may blow,
Swifting our woe.

The road forever on and on,
Many paths to choose,
Many paths to take,
Home behind,
World ahead...

Through the shadows,
Through the night,
Clouds going by,
There we will lie,
Very deep,
Seeing shivered land,
Seeing the dead seas...

Through the edge,
Miles to go,
Singing by,
Darkness rising,
Vanishing light,
Hollow flourishing,
Going by,
World ahead,
Home behind...

Rain may fall,
Through the nightfall,
Through the twilight,
Through the dusk,
Through the dawn,
Beyond mountains,
Beyond stones,
Standing strong,
Wandering lost,
World ahead,
Home behind,
Paths on and on,
'Till the road comes along...


Details | Dramatic monologue | |

My Window

In the middle of my plain white wall
There is a plain white window
And next to my plain white window
Is where I sit in a plain white dress
On a plain white chair
And every morning the sun rises
And every evening the sun sets
I see them all from my window
They are very pretty
With many colors
And then one day
A man stops by my window
He calls to me as I sit
In my plain white dress
On my plain white chair
He calls to me to tell me of the world
That I may come and join him
But I have seen the troubles of the world
All beyond my window
And I say to him I'd rather stay
And sit here by my window
Where troubles cannot reach me
He smiles a sweet sad smile as he walks away
Though the next day he is back again
And he talks to me of grass
Of green lush grass that is soft enough to walk on barefoot
I tell him of the glass that is hidden among the blades
He just smiles a sweet sad smile as he walks away
And back again he comes
To tell me of the ocean and sandy beaches
With white sand so pure you can lay naked upon it
I shake my head and tell of the pirates
That come to kidnap young and pretty girls
He smiles his sweet sad smile as he walks away
The next day he walks softly to my window
And he tells me of a garden untouched by men
Where flowers are the size of children
And blooms reach to the heavens
He tells me of the grass that hides no glass
Of a sky that is of the brightest blue
And a stream that is so pure you can
Be unwary of drinking from it
He talks of fish and birds of indescribable beauty
All this he tells me is mine
I must only leave my window and I may see it
I shake my head sadly as I tell him
I am afraid the world holds too much danger
For even if there were such a place
What misfortunes may befall me
On my way to this so called garden
He smiles a very sad smile and as he walks away
He says that paradise belongs to those who
Take risks and battle hardships to reach it
These are the words I remember as I watch the sun set
And the next day when he comes
To my plain white window
He will see me missing in my plain white dress
On an empty plain white chair
For I have gone to walk on glass and battle pirates
On my way to paradises garden


Details | Epic | |

The Fallen Prince

I saw a fair young maiden, abandoned in her bed,
Tearful for the one she loved ,the one she chose to wed.

Who in a weakened moment tread, out to the mountain ledge,
Enticed by the knight in black, who brought him to the edge.

Come fly with me, the black knight said, " to a land of pure euphoria,
And let me show you wondrous things, that I can lay before you.

No more pain and no more strife, just endless days and endless nights
of wine and song and dance.

Come my prince ,come  fly with me ,why not take a chance,
Forget your wife, come live your life ,it's time for new romance.

A tiny pill, is all it takes, a sniff of fine white powder,
Will keep you high, so you can fly up to the magic tower".

So ,the prince he ate the tiny pills and sniffed the fine white powder,
And soon he was addicted, to the magic of their powers.

Away he flew ,up to the moon, beyond the Milky Way,
Where stars came out and winked at him and beckoned him to play.

Everyday he ate the pills and sniffed the fine white powder,
But everyday...he needed more as they slowly lost their power,

And now he couldn't fly as high and that was terrible thing,
for there were more a more feathers missing from his wings.

Then one day ,while he flying, reaching for his dreams,
He felt the power leaving him ,and he began to scream.

Down and down and down he fell, crashing to the ground;;
Lost dreams and broken promises, lying all around.

And like a wounded bird with broken wings, that cease to flutter,
The truth rained down upon his head ,as he floundered in the gutter

Oh what a crazy fool he'd been, blinded by the knight,
Could he ever win her back ,and make the wrongs all right?

He cried and cried, into the night, regrets were his companions,
Until he heard the sound of hooves ,rumbling through the canyon.

Through tear-filled eyes, he saw a herd, of royal beauty stallions,
And perched upon ,their royal backs ,were knights in white so gallant.

Carefully ,they scooped him up ,and carried him away,
Into the East ,they rode from hell, for three long nights and days.

When long at last, with horses spent ,they reached their destination,
They placed him in the hands of God ,for this was His creation.

Great warmth began to fill his heart ,and light shone from his eyes,
He felt the gentle hand of God, and he began to cry.

Such happiness. he had never known. it lifted him so high,
He spread his wings, up to the sky ,and he began to fly.

Up to the sky, on mended wings, with angels all around him,
He heard the voice of God ring out, and totally surround him.

"I've done my part ,my fallen prince ,but the rest is up to you,
Fly straight and true, and don't look back ,no matter what you do.

Lead not thee to temptation son .for if you do, you'll die,
Fly straight and true, my fallen prince, or forever, cease to fly".

Will the prince ,journey home again ,to his fair and lovely maiden
Or, will temptation ,lead him back, to the evil Black Knight Satan?


Details | Free verse | |

The Day That Died Forever

When I am Colder,Older and then alone...
I will collect the sky on my own...
When the art has faded and the days then fade-
when everyone has gone away...

I may finally see what never was saw
.....ahhhhhhhhhhhhh............... the quiet sky

The unlit room which bares my end...shows the flashes of my pains my joys and sins.
This life has been a strange one since the curtains were drawn
These paper and plastic figures have clouded the dawn

I was once younger,foolish,and obsessed with truth
Now I am bitter,sour,dour faced with my heart under shoe

The children were all searching or lost in a crowd
All weeds in a garden...growing vile and foul

Though beauty was sold it never came true
Obsessions and vanity have traveled safe through

Materials and poison and everything lost
have been burned in the fires or lost in the frost

I stand face to mirror tearing my being apart
Winding thoughts of love,pain,god,and art

As the sun sets and the darkness grows
I too shall follow this pattern in tow

Death has a friendly hand and a pretty face
She has given me comfort as I leave this place

The wars have occurred,humanity's lost
Souls have been burnt in the fire or lost in the frost

Day was Life,Night is Death

And the latter has given counsel on my final steps


Details | Rhyme | |

Sea Songs

His heart is with the winds
that set his spirit free,
enduring breeze that sets the sails
and guides him out to sea.

Sea rover fair with eyes as blue
as ocean’s deepest depth,
he hails the morning mist
and keenly sets about his quest.

The sea songs call his name again,
and he cannot resist
the feel of sea spray on his face
gentle as a fair maiden’s kiss.

For wanderlust has this young lad,
no port to claim his own,
he stands upon a galleon’s bow
forever meant to roam.

Oh noble buccaneer,
with a poet’s heart to feed,
he leaves behind fair lassie
with eyes of Erin green.

For pieces of eight
and gold doubloons to spare,
he sails into the early fog,
hungry for adventure is our gallant corsair.

So she waits upon the rocks
of far and distant shore,
with faithful heart and purity
sure he’ll sail to her once more.

She keeps a lantern in the window,
it’s flame burning bright,
a lighthouse in the darkness
to guide him on foggy night.

He fancies himself a pirate
sailing under blackened flag,
the skull and cross bones waves above,
a sailor’s nightmare, a soiled rag.

But our mariner sails the briny deep
with dreams of tales to forever pass,
and perhaps a shiny nugget
to bring home to his fair lass.

But oh, the days are salty
with ne’er a puff of breeze to slake
the raging thirst befallen those
with sweet water naught to take.

In the ensuing days ~

the crew went mad,
the captain slain,
and the scuppers ran with blood.
Our handsome sea farer lay face down
in the awful flood.

The boat rocked listless in gentle swells,
the sails lay flat against the main.
The bounteous treasure long forgotten,
glittering heap of ill gotten gains.

As weeks and months and years passed by,
and winters turned to springs,
our once fair lassie, wiser now,
no longer dreams such things

as bonnie lads that set sail home
and take a faithful wife,
as he learned there’s naught to gain
from such a roguish way of life.

Her pretty face is creased now,
lined from worry and age,
her shiny locks tinted
with silver and gray,

She walks along the shoreline
on a bright summer’s day,
shiny rocks and seashells
she gathers from the bay.

The pretty tinkling of glass
on the rocks draws her near
as a bottle lies bobbing
in the shallows so clear.

The cork it is swollen
and waterlogged there,
but what lies inside
she can hardly bear.

A ruby as red as the blood of life,
and a note that simply read . . .

“Lassie, may I take you for my wife.”


Details | I do not know? | |

1-15-10 Commands

Smile. Laugh. Why must you command yourself?
Dont cry. Dont show them your organs. 
Its all a lie, isnt it?
The very fabrics of life. 
Do they see pain upon your face?
Does the sadness seep through?
Tears crystalize in your eyes. 
Your too brave to risk wiping them away,
and not brave enough to let them pour. 
Blink them away. 
Good, you follow commands. 
Do you know how to be a leader?
Do you close your eyes and walk?
Trust me. Follow the sound of my voice.
Will i lead you safely? Dont be so sure. 
We are all liars at our root. 
Push your self forward.


Details | Free verse | |

Moments In Time

The sweetest sounds of burning trees
A gentle stroking in the breeze
The calm has lasted past the storm
Cloudy visions, Satan’s roar
Too many sights have passed my way
A time found only in the haze
The softest screams are running bare
My aching bones creak as I stare

You walk a distance towards me
The fall’s eternal, can’t you see?
I’m a memory in your heart
I whisper to you in the dark

The battle’s started at the end
No one is coming to repent
The sinners grab their wine from prey
No judgment calling here to stay
The sport is reckless to be told
The one is laughing at his souls
It falters nowhere to be sure
The power grows forevermore
Like a spirit in the wind
I have no say in where you’ve been 
But cross the line to come to me
And pay the price for ecstasy

You walk a distance towards me
The fall’s eternal, can’t you see?
I’m a memory in your heart
I whisper to you in the dark. 


Details | Verse | |

Secretly Obsessed

Obsessed with the thought of you
wondering if it's only me or
if you sometimes remember the sweet things you've said
and if you meant them how I took them
or if I'm just obsessed with what's in your head

Obsessed with your very sentences
Every response I take personal
I know it's selfishness
Have you not noticed my eyes?
They hold secrets that only you can unlock
if you'd just take time to fill the thick juices of my pride
It's just boiling with lust, passion, trust and distrust
and other things I obsess over so much

I find myself writing to free myself from this prison I've created
where only you and I reside
I become confused about what I'm really feeling inside and I 
try to rid the thoughts that are highly debated as false and I
begin to cry and
think of casting love spells so that the universe can deliver this affair
I know it's unfair
but I don't care

I'm obsessed with what hasn't happened between us
I'm obsessed with your heart and that the fact that 
I don't think you've even noticed my selfish innuendos 
and secret undertones that blatantly express my lust
Or maybe you have and you calmly remain in resistance of distrust 
If you could only read my mind by simply touching my fingertips,
I'm sure I'd catch you out the corner of my eye biting your bottom lip
I'm obsessed with the passion and thoughts I think you have
Obsessing over an experience that I may never have....






Details | Rhyme | |

Plockton - Wester Ross

The greatest holiday gift I ever received  
Goes back so many, many years
Before my life became turmoiled
And before my tears for fears

I was a child like many out there
Torn, strewn and split of kin
Mother and father in differences
Confused at seven, wearing their same skin

For I was one of the lucky ones
To a Highland Estate I would go
It's on the west coast of Scotland
Where my holidays desired me so

Secretly I internally smiled
For a whisper of where I was heading
To live with a movie star hero
No longer my life was in dreading

We were picked up by a man so fine
His manners were an absolute joy
Regimental he was in his approach
To me, just a seven year old boy

We travelled through the village of Plockton
Crystal clear waters edged to it's shore
I knew from this very moment
Being here ebbed previous family sores

On entering his house I was in awe
Movie pictures came to my view
They were images of James Bond
At seven I was totally through

A voice called to me
Hey James! sit down and I'll tell you me
Still in circles in walking awe
This is what he told thee

My name is Patrick Dalzel Job
In the Second World War I served
But this recognition I bestow
Humbles me to it's deserve

This honour that's been given
Was blessed by a colleague in war
What desired Ian Fleming to be so striven
Possibly, what we were fighting for

We served on the same destroyer
Fighting to make the future free
His tribute, in his novels I became
James Bond, it's incredibly me





Not many seven year olds have stayed with James Bond.
This seven year old Scot's boy has, maybe I learnt?
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Patrick_Dalzel-Job


Details | Rhyme | |

Rehab

So much I wanted to say. So much I wanted to shout.
It was like being trapped behind bars without a way
to get out.
My mind going wild with all these questions of why.
The only way to escape was to fall asleep or to cry.
What did I do so bad that made me have to pay?
My friends, my dreams, and my life was swepped away.
I know I can do it! I try and I try.
Nothing seems to get better. I sometimes wish
I would Die.
Starved for attention. I wanna talk to the world.
I just miss being loved. Miss the warmth of a girl.
Snickers and stairs is what my life has become.
I'm treated like I'm a kid, like I'm sick, or I'm dumb.
One day to the next. Life becomes work just to be alive.
I thank god for my blessings. I thank god I survived.
I finally see some improvement. More hope tickles
my brain.
It was worth all the time, all the tears, all the pain.
I awake with a smile and new hope to move on.
I did it! I did it! All those hard times are gone!


Details | Free verse | |

Forgotten You

Forgotten you
As your mind collects the memories of yesterday
Forgotten You
Epiphanies tie into knotty strings of realization
That very moment. . . 
You merely exist

Back then. . .those smiles
Those. . .distant laughs
Some you remember by name
Gone now maybe
Like the exhalation of the wind
Others dispersed in the world of arbitrary happening
Like leaves from falling, man-made trees
There is no doubt that they have
Forgotten you

Activate the bomb
Ignite the fuse
And you’re on next year’s history book
Never forgotten
But drained of all remaining good

That smile you gave
That happiness
The warm embrace so long ago
Salt-coated with piles of rubbish
Over last remaining mental spurts of comfort
Evil, evil, evil, evil, EVIL. . .
Always absorbed and remembered
. . .though never forgiven. . .

All good and gracious sentiments
Packed up in a box set nonchalantly in Downstair’s storage
. . .that chair with the broken leg in the corner of the room
That mangled cobweb holding a dangling, lifeless spider
A drowned sailor’s hat drifting through the current of the ocean
The single tear from a soldier’s vigilant, memory-stricken eye
The frustrating thoughts of a mute
The unchanged. . .HATED deformations

Forgotten you. . .
One soul brings to light weary, unthought-of happenings
Wedged deep into what she can only imagine
With not even a hint of understanding
. . .of the pain. . . .of the bewildering distortions
Of the ugly. . .
One soul merely vomits sickly verse after verse

As humanity embraces its downfall
The poet hangs onto her unjustifiable, forgotten. . .
Words


Details | Lyric | |

Human Being

I walk a mile to see the self in me that I believe to be, 
I knew the road I choose to lay my head to sleep is called my home,
times in need I could barely see that in myself I will set free, 
the act that held me down, something about me I could not see,
I lived a life when I decide that day I said that I don't care, 
so young, so bright, I dim my light, traumatized for me to share,
love me please regardless of what you heard and what you have seen, 
friends say that I'm only human, yes you're right, a human but who am I being?
My life will move in the direction I choose, 
this I know I have always been taught
that I choose to be a winner or lose, 
its entirely up to me its all in my thoughts.

Ken Fepulea'i


Details | Epic | |

The Fallen Prince - part 2

Part 2.....

He cried and cried, into the night, regrets were his companions,
Until he heard the sound of hooves ,rumbling through the canyon.

Through tear-filled eyes, he saw a herd, of royal beauty stallions,
And perched upon ,their royal backs ,were knights in white so gallant.

Carefully ,they scooped him up ,and carried him away,
Into the East ,they rode from hell, for three long nights and days.

When long at last, with horses spent ,they reached their destination,
They placed him in the hands of God ,for this was His creation.

Great warmth began to fill his heart ,and light shone from his eyes,
He felt the gentle hand of God, and he began to cry.

Such happiness. he had never known. it lifted him so high,
He spread his wings, up to the sky ,and he began to fly.

Up to the sky, on mended wings, with angels all around him,
He heard the voice of God ring out, and totally surround him.

"I've done my part ,my fallen prince ,but the rest is up to you,
Fly straight and true, and don't look back ,no matter what you do.

Lead not thee to temptation son .for if you do, you'll die,
Fly straight and true, my fallen prince, or forever, cease to fly".


Will the prince ,journey home again ,to his fair and lovely maiden?
Or, will temptation ,lead him back, to the evil Black Knight Satan?


Details | Prose Poetry | |

Bell's Blues

Staring, vapor locked, at my Hammond B-3 console organ, which dominates my 
kitchen.  Surely a symbol of my madness.  I can't help, but think, if the keys were 
the days of my life, and the black ones represented the bad days, are there 
enough black keys??  Fighting petulance, self-pity...losing...
     Wondering if I can stand another minute alone.  Atop my organ, music books, 
and the complete works of Edgar Allan Poe, another mad poet.
     Plagued by physical agonies that merely complete a perfect circle of anguish 
and distress.  Even to worrying of misspelling a word again.  Pure lunacy.
     Remembrance of my 1863 death at Missionary Ridge, something I became 
aware of as a young child before I'd ever heard of reincarnation.  Or just an early 
sign of the madness to come??
     I am lost in a befouling miasma of deep despair.  My life's hopes down to 2 
desires;  one last music band, and taking my son to Disneyworld.  Money is 
meaningless to me.
     I am well aware that death is as natural as life.  And I would venture to guess 
that the loss of my father, my young cousin Billy, my dear friend Mark Trotiner, and 
too many others, are "Business As Usual" in this universe.  But not for me.
     Being terminally ill myself is something I have long since come to terms with.  
And what a reunion it will be!!  But I must continue to go on surviving as though I 
cherish this long and barren life.
     My writing, especially my poetry, my poet friends, my music, my musician 
friends, and a few relatives and others; these are the meds that work for me; not 
the 30 or so pills I must deal with everyday.  So thank you all.
And now an addendum, one which brightened my day:
     Mark Trotiner long maintained that he gave Mark Knoffler (Dire Straights) the 
idea for his hit song "Money For Nothing", when Mark Knoffler came into the 
appliance chain store he worked in way back then, where he bought, and drove 
off with several T.V.s, singing the prototype words he'd gotten from Mark Trotiner.  
Over the years, I tested him repeatedly, looking for the tale-tell deviation in the 
story one finds in a false tale.  He never faltered, he never failed.
    Continued.....


Details | Ballad | |

Violet

In London, away in a terrace
Half-hidden with elm trees and grime,
Lived young Violet, in her parents' house,
Left alone for near all of the time,

As her mother had no patience to teach her
And her father was working all day,
Violet read to herself through her childhood
Forgetting her seclusion in play,

Any friends she made as a young woman
Would laugh at her stitches and cloth,
For they knew that Violet was quite useless
And so showed their neat needlework off,

Poor Violet kept trying her best, but
Each time everyone ran her down,
She retreated back into her mind's warmth
Far away from that cold-blooded town,

Then one night, as the raindrops were piercing
Through the rueful, restricting twilight,
Violet threw on her Sunday attire and
Did at once in the darkness delight,

So she ran through the alleys and gardens,
Dancing down the pitch-black London streets,
Her beautiful dress flew about her
As she skipped past the other deceits,

Violet's stories swam round in her memory
As she flew through the night and the stars,
And she bathed thoroughly and with relish
Until Violet was cleansed of her scars,

Now her heart was open and happy,
So she laughed and fluttered her tail,
Carelessly gliding free through the water
And onwards to the ocean did sail.

As the weary sun rose on the next day
Her friends could be seen on the pier,
Dabbing at their dry eyes with their hankies,
Voices straining trying to sound sincere,

"It has hurt us so indescribably,
That because of her poorly-sewn hems,
Violet felt she was inferior to us
And has drowned herself in the Thames."

Violet's parents had not yet noticed
The absence of their only daughter,
And they would understand even less
How she came to be dead underwater,

But Violet was now free to prosper,
To swim and to dance and to glide,
And with angels and mermaids to play with,
She would always in her dreams reside.


Details | Cowboy | |

The Cowherd

On dark hillside
A lone cowherd
Wrapped in his blanket,
Gazed up at the sky,
Dreamed into the night.
A wisp of crescent moon,
A sky full of stars,
In his thought
He was asking:
Does my small fire shine up to the stars?


Details | I do not know? | |

Little Girl On Bended Knees

She’s a little girl abused in so many ways.
She knows for everything theirs a price she pays.
She doesn’t go where other children play.
So much lost.
So much at cost.
She’s berried with in her pleas.
Clothing tore to all degrees.
She runs to the church knowing everything he sees.
Maybe he can set her free.
Little girl on bended knees.

She can’t wash his smell away.
No matter how much she bathes.
Do you really have to love daddy this way.
Day by day she prays.
So many memories will prey.
She wishes they would just fade away.
In the bushes she hides.
Daddy is dead inside.
To god she will confide.

“God who will believe me?
Who will see?
Mom always said it was just me.
Now she has to see.”
Little girl on bended knees.

Her life is so hard in part.
Yet not compared to what she sacrifices in her heart.
He slices it up and rips it apart.
She wants to point blame
But lowers her head in shame.
God taking over this little soles hope 
And his heart is breaking.
There is so much she is staking.

She raises her bloody hands high.
Deep down she wishes she could die.
But she made daddy finally say goodbye.
Six years old murdering daddy to finally be free.
Little girl on bended knees.


Details | Senryu | |

Playground

Kids go down
The slide…they head toward the swings
TIME TO SCREAM!

Free time ends
Their parents want to go home
Frowns exchange 


Details | Haiku | |

The Internet: Return

A void of Facebook
Creativity dies here...
Procrastination!


Details | Acrostic | |

Reflections: Midlife Crisis

P     aranoia permeates, etching itself into your fractured face,
A     cacophony of constant pressure; life remains a stressful race,
N     othing to hope for, no positives like promotion in the workplace,
I      nability to love, relationships lift anchor and set sail without chase,
C     hildren crushing dreams under mortgages; age grows with disgrace
!!


Details | Free verse | |

Final Adieu

Final Adieu

Let another sun set,
Let another flower wilt,
Let another autumn cast its gloom,
Let another tear role,
As ye part, and bid
The final adieu.

Suyash Saxena
St. Stephen’s college


Details | Free verse | |

If Old Men Fought

An old man looking out his door,
gaze fixed on a distant shore,
reminiscing to a time, not of happiness,
or, the prospect of a bright future,
to when he was sick to his very core,
to when as a youth, he went to war

A time before infallibility had meaning,
patriotism and bravado the craze,
the future was still unknown,
vigor for life at its all time high,
a time for romance, partying, buying,
no thought of pain, deformity, dying

Too young to understand or question,
ship to foreign shore, medals abound,
will impress the girls next time in town,
sacrifice not temporary,
forever more,
a legacy etched into a wall, few will remember,
flesh shredded, burned, torn,
families mourn

A time, when he willingly went to war,
will happen no more,
all lost in youth, now unrelenting,
no blind obedience,
minimal risk,
long life, his number one ambition

As he turns back from the door,
he thinks of the youth,
here now, soon no more,
lessons never learned,
the call to war,
to common the roar,
complacency the mood,
another generation removed

The old man agonizes
over what was originally not known,
war is preventable,
life too precious to waste,
the solution simple,
his vision, maybe too late

Send old men to the front to fight,
arthritis, heart disease, poor eyesight,
let the youth enjoy their life,
his near over, its only right

Send old men, to the front, to fight
ask them to give up their life,
patriotism and bravado, still alive,
will and desire would not last the night,
old men do not rush to death in their twilight,
failure inevitable, the old man smiles,
knows he's right

Wars not possible,
if old men, are sent to fight


Details | Rhyme | |

Jennifer Part 3

She has so much pain inside of her,
she doesn't know how to address it.
So she turns the pain into anger,
after she explodes, she becomes quiet.

She goes up to her room, upset.
Why does the world hate her so?
She thinks to herself, “That’s it!”
But in reality, it isn't though.

She lies on her bed,
Pulls out her book and reads.
As she turns the pages, she loses her head,
In her mind, she thinks “This is what I need.”

A place to escape the world,
Somewhere she can run.
For it seems everyone hates this girl,
And nothing she does is fun.

She plays her cello 
And loses herself in the music
She does this when she feels low
Then she plays the song of her pick

She listens to the beat she makes,
Trying to make it sound perfect,
But oh, she keeps making mistakes,
She thinks that she will never get it.

She leaves the cello alone
And watches her shows
She then grabs her phone
And tells her best friend the show as it goes.

She leaves the TV on, 
Then she enters her laptop.
She stays on till dawn,
She just can’t seem to stop.

She loves the idea of leaving the real world
And entering an imaginary one.
That’s the story of the girl,
Who is never done.


Details | Bio | |

Solitude: To Yoda, An Ode

Green bark a prism creates,
Feel the pull of earth, you must.

Rotates, a slime of endless hates,
Can hold me not, this world’s crust.

Friendship’s ties, isolation Deflates,
Succumbs, my spaceship, to bitter rust.

Mist, my soul forever permeates,
Lift-off, booms the rocket’s thrust.

My spirit when light returns, elates,
Swamps swell, swallowed hope’s swirling dust.

Trapped, I am, until student from fate
Arrives to learn; Cloud City or bust.


Details | Haiku | |

To Lose Someone You Love

To lose someone you love....
Its like trying to live violently among the peaceful people who are dying 
To lose someone you love....
Its like Im living in lies with laughter and happiness while Im truthfully sitting in anger and pain while crying
 Im grounded in shame yet Im still airborn with death together we flying 
Its hurts when one dies past groundshaken proximity under the hate but sent with earthshattering love above
 where we live to die yet we are born to survive where we bred to learn to get past all the ones we have lost with hate because ITS REALLY HURTS TO LOSE SOMEONE YOU LOVE.


Details | Light Poetry | |

A Fairy Tale

In a land, far away, once upon a time
An ancient place, deep in mystical forests
There lived a sickly old man
The years had passed and he was but an empty shell

Even he had no memories of who he used to be
But now, in the forest, he breathed his bitterness
A small barren one room cabin
His only possession, his grumpy voice

The town, further down the hill
Was to be his only detested outing
Each month the voyage,  a barter for rations
Chopped wood, for his meager means

The children would taunt and tease
This smelly aberration to their playful days
And toss pebbles and stones
What do you mutter, you ragged old man?

He pictured them in a pot of stew
Yet no smile would he spend even on this thought
And off he went back up the hill, his bitterness too
The echo’s of laughing children, now but a distant taunt

He grew older, as did his bitterness
Year by year, and like a curse he lived
Certainly not of his choosing
Almost not hearing the village sneers

One day the men elders where called away
Kings declare wars, but it’s the villagers who do battle
Times became dark, who lived who died, no one was sure
The village children wept for their fathers

The old mans monthly pilgrimage to the village
Was met with sad infant stares
His mutterings now no concern of theirs
When off in the distance, beating drums and horses hooves

Soldiers of terror, pillaged and burned
The fires and haze, arrows and swords
The villagers ran in into the forests deep
Save for some of the children, confused and dazed

The old man stood in the midst of it all
And fearing nothing, his soul long dead
The children behind him, with fear and dread
He lifted a fallen sword and felled a horsemen 

The a second, a third, in vengeance did come
And he felled them too, no fear in his eyes
The others retreated, their loot in tow
Only the angel of death, left with the wind

The old man, fell to the ground
Surrounded by children, staring in shock
They carried him home, his frown, and all
And stoked his fire, and laid him to rest

When he woke the next morning
All the children were there
With smiles, be dammed, what did he care?
They chattered and praises his heroic acts

They truly saw, the beauty hidden so deep
This old man saved them, his bravery noble
His silence, and rudeness, they ignored it all
And a little boy, with wonder, said thank you grumpy

Well, against his will, a smile did appear
This little one, taken so, thought him so dear
And day by day, the children returned
And he told them stories he had long forgotten

In the forest, up in the trees
Two angel fairies, where singing in the breeze
Looking down and over the cabin
And filled with joy, for an old soul was revived

The old man, spent his days, telling stories and teaching
The children learned the ways of their past
And the old man, who once was dead
Now knew the meaning of all life ahead

The village rebuilt and returned to routine
Honored the old man, once unwashed and unseen
The children grew older, the old man passed on
And now he sits in a tree and sings in the breeze


Details | Narrative | |

My Last Week

If I had only a week yet to live in this mortal world,
I would first gather my family together and say my last goodbyes.
Then I would travel to Washington D. C.
and visit the Vietnam Memorial Wall,
to shed the tears I have never cried.
While there I would go to Arlington Cemetery,
to give a final salute to the boys who died so young.
I’d hail a cab to take me to the airport to catch a plane
and fly to California and piss on Nixon’s grave,
for him stabbing those of us in the back who served in harm’s way
while we were under his command.
He has to have been one of the sorriest creatures
to have ever walked upright on two limbs.
After bailing myself out of jail, I would board a train to San Francisco
and hope and pray that the whole damn city and all of its inhabitants
would fall into the deep blue sea for the way they treated the boys and me
when we traveled through there on our way to Vietnam
and then again when we came back home.
I would take a rental car and drive to the Grand Canyon,
to view the awesome splendor of God’s magnificent handiwork
He has wrought upon this old spinning sphere we call earth.
Then I would be off to the nearest airport to hop a plane,
and jet off to Rome where I would light an industrial strength candle
in Mother Teresa’s honor to thank her for all of the souls she saved.
Then I would gladly return home to die the death
I should have died when I was young.
Afterwards, my soul would slip off into the pit of hell,
and I would kick the devil’s sorry ass;
because I’m still regular army even after all of these years,
meaner than hell, tougher than nails.
Life’s an uphill battle and then you die,
but it’s a wild, wild ride. It’s one hell of a ride!


Details | Narrative | |

Christmas Rebels

Christmas Rebels
It was about a weak
After that night walk
The unknown dangers, 
Made known, turned me weak,
I was managing myself,
After my heart was pulled,
From where it sank,
I was yet in the oven,
Of my haven,
To dry up the coldness,
And the wetness, 
Of that fearful night loneliness,

Today is Christmas,
The whole mass,
Was joyous,
Every home, glorious,
Meat was plenteous, 
Rice and beans.
Was every homes means,
Children bouncing in,
New goat skin jackets,
Mother’s dressed in costly
Beads and all the way,
Father leads.
For Christmas had taking over,
Taking over the African Shrine,
It supplied a joyous sunshine.
Our pockets were full of cowries,
Like a goldmine,
Happiness was mine,
For the usual war seemed 
To be hidden, and our teethes where like, 
“Forever opened”.

Oh! Joyful, blissful, plentiful Christmas.
Providing joy each time it surface, 
But joy has a slender waist that breaks so soon.
Christmas night came, so we visited 
Our beds as night rang it’s bell,

(To be continued in the next, same Poem).


Details | Lyric | |

Never Fight Alone

I got mad. Didn't know how to use my energy. So I made this song on the piano. I want to sing it with my brother when he's better. I hope he does get better soon. 
Dedicated to David. Just been so angry lately. And so sad. . .

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Verse I: (David) I was alone What can I say? I was lost Couldn't pray I was trapped In their games I regret it Everyday Verse II: (Laura) I was jaded By my sin Never sweated Anything Couldn't sleep Couldn't dream I was scared Of everything Chorus: (David) Within me lies a battle A war I just can't fight alone Can you hear me now? Will you hear me out? Before I lose the struggle I'm begging for some help right now We need to take a stand I need to be a man Laura: Your heart is in my hand Both: (You) I will not fight alone Verse IV: (David) I'm losing faith Can't find the way Can't erase The things I say I see the world Instant pain! If I'm anything I'm insane Verse V: (Laura) Don't talk that way! Just look at me! You are stronger Then I'll ever be! I pulled you in I pushed you free I was foolish Please come back to me Chorus: (David) Within me lies a battle A war I just can't fight alone Can you hear me now? Will you hear me out? Before I lose the struggle I'm begging for some help right now We need to take a stand I need to be a man Laura: Your heart is in my hand Both: (You) I will not fight alone Within me lies a battle A war I just can't fight alone Can you hear me now? Will you hear me out? Before I lose the struggle I'm begging for some help right now We need to take a stand I need to be a man Laura: Your heart is in my hand We'll never fight alone Never Fight Alone