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Best Poems Written by Gnar Whale

Below are the all-time best Gnar Whale poems as chosen by PoetrySoup members

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Would-Be Pecker

“If only, if only, the woodpecker sighs, / The bark on the tree was as soft as the skies. / The wolf waits below, hungry and lonely, / And cries to the moon, / if only, if only.”

i would die for my Family,
	take a bullet for my Mother, Father, or Siblings.
i would die for my Closest Friends,
	curl over a grenade for Peers or Acquaintances. 
i would die for past Mentors,
	repay Professors and Trainers for their priceless wisdom.
i would die for Myself,
	if only to preserve my Memory and Accomplishments

if only the opportunity could arise,
if only They were not already dying beside me, for me,
if only my wrist wasn’t tethered to IV’s, shackled by Chemo,
if only there was enough life in me to die, i would. For Them, i would.

i would live so My Mom never cries,
                i will live because a daughter never dies,
i would live so My kid Brother has an anchor,
	i will live because a sister never lies,
i would live so My Best Friend has a partner,
	i will live because a best friend is always there to empathize,
i would live so My Teacher’s teachings do not die,
	i will live because a student is always there to learn and return the favor,

if only if only my wood pecker sighs,
if only if only i would live for their tears,
if only if only i would live through their tears, 
if only if only my harsh, little seed would bare a soft, weak tree,

if only if only for a lonely wolf to sit under,
if only if only so a hungry wolf does not have to eat,
if only if only so a wolf can bare my burden forever if it so chooses,
if only if only so a wolf can watch my wood pecker peck to its heart’s content. Who’s?
When the life support comes they won’t need to pull the chord; if only if only they knew how long i’ve been dead.

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Happy Medium

Cuz god made me a Lamb CooCooCachoo,
And Blake a tyger with the potential to do.
I am one of the Unhappy; we’ve seen an unsettling light.
I made myself an Unhappy; I had to search for that light.

I laughed at Job I laughed at him
And through those laughs, though chaste, was sin
“Let there be Light, but not for him
And Let Job’s patience never wear thin”

You’d never play one of Satan’s games
But you play with the god ‘created you and his fame
He built all the strings, left you to dangle in his image
With threats and with bribes he keeps them believing all the same

What a bleeding whore, am I right? No that was Pandora for
merely associating with her bleeding infected box of sores.
She gave you the lie, the longing sigh, the brief high, that whore
That fox’s box is her own freaking paradox; she’s an original spore 

They’ll tell the same sulky story but twist and spin like smoke
That box let out every species of evil and monophyletic hope
The greatest mutualism of parasites solely dependent on us hosts
The virus needs t’die, goodbye, ill feed you no longer, you squatting joke

Cuz god he made me a lamb CooCooCachoo
And filled the world with tygers to ruin you
Their brutality’s only matched by my innocence? 
Is that so, Well **** you Leibniz

Lambs are soft and malleable, owned by the system they obey
Where are tygers without their prey 
And what’s a shiny, pious knight with nothing to slay
You’d expect to see clouds when you open your eyes but I have and I only see wool

No symmetry in jagged teeth. 
Tigers eat lambs eight fold a piece 
I’ve seen enlightenment, a truth too bright. Most dare not see this
A light like that could only forshadow, the end of this wretched dark tunnel

And I’m just a little boy-student all-nighter tonight
Behind dumbbell eyelids, homework’s no longer in sight
But I know the forecast and I see white
And today was a Saturday and I feel like you created enough adversity for one ****ing week so you can stay awake taking notes all you ****ing want but I’m tired as *****and going to bed

You ask what made me too tired and drowsy to stick it out through night
And I blame this drowsy, tiresome life. The exhaustion of a lasting fight
I blame the happy medium between half-*****and bad that’s always in only my sight
Because life’s a drunken blind crippled scale that won’t ever change if you open your eyes

Maybe you see the light just prior to death for a reason

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Drizzly Bits

Dribbling from the sky
Little drops of honey dew
Of sheet-white, lit skies

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Day Owl

Cuz She’s just living for the weekends.
	Uhoh ohhhhhh
And then she’s waiting for spring break,
	Which you know will come and go.
And then she’s holding out till summer,
	Always arrives slow.
But summer freezes over, and on comes the snow.

Her schedule, it’s always filled,
And her calendar, no room for will.
	She only owns .285714 sections of her life.
Listen Jack, Now She’s such a dull boy
On weekdays when insomnia’s just a ploy.
	She’d rather sleep through .714285 sections of her life.

She’s a day owl, But never sleeps the night away.
Highest regard for life, Don’t let the pressures take that away.
She’s a day owl, But never sleeps the night away.
Em, spontaneity’s just as great a virtue, so don’t wait. Just come away.

And she’s agnostic, hates the thought of it:
Preachers with opinions to hand out.
	She thinks people ought to find some things on their own. 
And please Em, if there’s no afterlife, 
Speak briefly, can you like of your only life’s love?
	Oh, you’ll look to like if looking liking move
but it moves, and it moves. 

She’s a day owl, But never sleeps the night away.
Highest regard for life, Don’t let the pressures take that away.
She’s a day owl, But never sleeps the night away.
Em, spontaneity’s just as great a virtue, so don’t wait. Just come away.

Oh you stay awake when you should be asleep
Which brings you closer to the Big Sleep.
	That’s the only deadline that you really need to meet.
She puts her life out on hold
For homework and acts a bit too old.
	"Deadlines are things she’d pass though on the way to finishing."
Thankyou Peter Gabriel

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Not a Poem

Each Poem aims to embody a truth
Every example of Rhetoric only aims to persuade, to triumph, to decieve
Poetry is too pacifistic, too gentle, too honest to have a goal, to change the world, to pierce a shell
Because when has a truth, something you know, ever been as important to you as something you BELIEVE?
The truth never set anyone free; it cannot break the cage of belief, and that's the truth.
Not that you should care. You already know Everything              that you know.
Sorry, this is not a poem. It has a point