A collection...

[Bethany]

...of the poems I've written that I like the most/hate the least depending on how I'm feeling about myself.

Hope.
A feather, discarded by a bird.
A feather, battered by the wind.
A feather, longing for a purpose.
A feather, whom everyone’s afraid to touch.
With nothing else, I pick up the feather,
And hold it tightly in my hand,
And try to pass it on to others.


mo(u)rning
I see you
In my mind,
With hazy perfection of memory.
I reach out
To touch you,
So close to me you seem…
But alas!
Just mist,
And my hand goes right on through.
I awaken
From this dream,
And my tears mix with the dew.



the difference between cigarettes and romance.
Of all the things I’m addicted to
(my cigarettes,
my coffee,
my tea),
I know them all.
I know them well.
I know what they taste like,
I know what they’ll be.

Of all the things I’m addicted to
(my pillows,
my blankets,
my things)
I know them all.
I know them well.
I know what they act like,
I know their feelings.

Of all the things I’m addicted to
(the smell of roses in July,
and green, green grass,
and bright blue sky)
I know them all.
I know them well.
I know what they smell like,
I know all their ties.

But there are some things
We’re all addicted to
(like friendship,
and romance,
and dreams).
And those,
I don’t understand
At all.



Ripples.
Cool, clear, and collected,
then expanding to the endless vastness.
Ever changing my reflection,
like the actions in my life.
This causes a chain reaction,
and it reaches out forever.
One cannot stop the ripple,
without causing yet another.


wanted ad.
Here is an unconscious profession;
I’m looking for someone new and wild,
To come and be my mind’s possession.
Let’s have a look, now, at your style;
Soon enough, you’ll be my slight obsession.
I just want to see you smile!
Thoughts of you can replace him in succession.
…if only for a little while.


Imagination.
My mind flies
Across velvet skies
With whirling tones
To be my guide.
Brocade fantasies
Pass my lips,
And passion
Through my fingertips.
Across this reality
Grey and dim,
All I keep
Is what lies within.




Aligned.
Aligned;
Two planets,
we are
connected
for a moment,
through space
(we call life),
we’ve drifted.
But our orbits
haven’t led us
to align;
except now.

[Bethany]

I have another one I think belongs in my 'good' collection. What do you guys think?

It's not completely a poem... it's more like stream of conciousness... or maybe even prose. But to me, it's like a poem.

girl.
Your face is happy and delicate like the curves of your body that captivate me almost as much as your smile which shatters a thousand nights of loneliness and pulls the sun out from behind the clouds to glitter in your perfect eyes that are always staring at mine, but I don’t even notice that half the time because I’m too busy trying to listen to what you’re saying, but your voice is so clear, like water from a sacred lake, that I get caught up in it and find it hard to pay attention to the words, but when I do listen I bask in the glory of the divine to create a creature with such a sharp, witty, funny and kind mind, the kind of mind that I’ve been searching for, it seems, forever.

[Lady Hammer]

I like the difference between cigarettes and romance. You certainly do know tea, Bethany.

[Bethany]

I know you like that one. I like it too. It lacks the modern cynical tone that drives most of my other poems. Lol.

But what do you think about the new one?

[Lady Hammer]

I like it. I've read it before off of Jason's computer when the thing first came in my inbox (long time ago), and I don't think the review I logged ever showed up. :/ But oh well. *blush* I like it. ^^

[creamwolfgurl]

those are cool, really good!!

[Bethany]

Thanks cream!

And Lady: No, it didn't ever show up. :\
But oh well.
I'm glad you like it.

That 'girl' is making me expirience so many new aspects of myself, that I can't help but write about some of 'em. ;D

[Bethany]

You guys want to read a few more poems?

Oh well, I'll post them anyways. Lol.
...And I think I'll try and pick out some of the newer ones that I don't think Lady has read so that she can finally read them. ;D

Disclaimer: These are much more depressed than the others, so read at your own risk.


denial.
All this love around me,
swirling and filling everyone.
Their cups runneth over.
Is there any love left for me?
No? (useless emotions…)
Oh well, I tell myself,
the heart is just another throbbing muscle.
All these affectionate glances,
and passionate smiles,
The playful laughter rings in my ears.
Is there any affection left for me?
No? (who needs it?...)
Oh well, I tell myself,
the heart is just another throbbing muscle.
All these lovers around,
seeming perfectly matched
and star-crossed.
Is there anyone left for me?
No? (a scoff to those enamored souls)
Oh well, I tell myself,
the heart is just another throbbing muscle.


honey.
Depression is
knowing that no one will reply,
but passing out the message anyways,
in hopes that you wont have to spend
another long, long night alone,
succumbing to a dismal interval
of self-pity
and self-mutilation,
and masturbation,
and not wanting to shower
(no one will look at me anyways),
and waiting…
waiting…
while hope and hate are mixing in your stomach,
and mingling with the pills
that never helped anyways;
waiting, as the time drops by thick like rancid honey,
for nothing to happen to you.


guilty.
One thought, and that pain in my chest grows heavy like it’s swollen with too much grief that I’ve tried to ring out of it but it still clings to the empty halls of my mind and fills it with all sorts of things I try not to think of anymore since this sort of thing makes me feel so guilty like I’m taking a piece of something someone else spent a lot of time making for themselves. And so I squeeze my eyes shut, trying to keep everything out; but resistance is useless and I give up and give in to the thousand glittering glass reflections of memory that graze my mind and scratch my soul, leaving it sore with want. I love how it seemed in my mind, just the three of us – an unstoppable force of passion and wonder for the world to look at and say “hey, this might work;” but dreams are dreams, they don’t really come true, so I’ll just live here in fantasy because reality is too harsh for my aching spirit, crippled from a desire to love.

[Kate]

I am in love with your poetry. It's like chocolate to the senses. I have never come across so much stunning imagery and use of language in one place. Please post more!

[Bethany]

Wow. You flatter me, Kate. Thank you very much.

I'll post more as I come across more old ones/write some more new ones.

I'm glad you like them. ;D

[Bethany]

OKAY,
so this is different than most of my poems... but whatever... it's not like I usually stick to one format or the other anyways. : P


dying.
Imperfections are the gift that comes with mortality.
Cherish your flaws, they make you who you are.
Bask in their darkness.
Once you know everything, you are nothing.
Once you are perfect, there is nothing.
No character.
No story.
What would you have to strive for, then?

Sadness is a gift that comes with mortality.
Relish the roughness.
Taste the tears.
Know that your suffering makes you human.
Once you are your happiest,
you know
that you have so very,
very
far to fall.

So come and dance,
the dance with me.
The dance that spirals e'er round.
And we'll spin and swing,
with impatience and
imprudence and
sweet, sweet
mortality.

[Lady Hammer]

Oooh it's so nice! I am sad because I have such little patience to read poetry but it's so good... yours is always so good. I am jealous of your rhythm! Only rarely do I get good poetic rhythm...

Oohhh you're so good! *jealousy* *but love at the same time! <3*

[Bethany]

Thank you!

I like poetry, because I can write it in about a minute or two, and it's usually not as crazy as my short stories... and if it is, then people think 'Oh, well poetry is supposed to be crazy.'
Lol.

I like the poems you write too, when you write them.

[Kate]

Another brilliant poem, Bethany! I love the meaning, and the metaphors and phrases you've really been able to capture it with ^^ I also love the rhythm, it's hard to find these days.

And I agree, I love poetry for the same reasons you do!

[Maggie]

OMG I love all this good poetry I wanna write some more of my own!!!!