A Poem to Start
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The beginning is the start, The end is the beginning. If both are true, Then I must request of you, Please make up your mind and stop whining! |
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The Bard
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I am the musician, Playing music softly in the air. I have a way with sound That most do not understand. I am the poet, Saying poems with jest and anger. I have a way with words That can be vulgar or loving. I am the bard, Both musician and poet. I can combine the two And become a true artist. |
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The following poems are a combined effort by Seiun and Sketch.
It seems to me...
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It seems to me that our world is like music. Jazz, pop, classical and metal love, hate and strife. But then we must know, what goes to what? All sides to life having different styles Styles viewing differently all sides to life jazz the artist, soft rock the business man metal-youth and classical elders techno and politics its hypnotizing repetition Or rock being the teenager with its illicit lyrics Or Enya being the preacher... nuff said. Yes, music relates to all aspects of life From birth to death, from junior to senior From illiterate to enlightended. It relates to everything. And in the same way, life relates to music, From rock to jazz, from classical to metal, From Enya to...well, maybe not everything. But you must respect this all showing poet Showing the truth Cold, raw, blunt and real truth In every form shape and size. music the true poet. Listening turns to dischord. Pop could be the gay rap artist, Death metal could be the prison escapist, Techno is the politician. Evil is music as well, in the forms we shape it Like Woodstock riots or mash pit fights. Music can light up like an upturned mercedes Or roar up like the waves of a hurricane. But remember one needs the other Or it’ll all be the same. |
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My G-d, I love her
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My G-d, I love her. I love her hair, I love her voice, I love her body, I love her emotion, I love her opinions, I love her actions. I love everything about her. She is wonderful, She is fantastic, She is gladness for me, She is melancholy, She is all emotions wrapped up, Expressed and put together in a relish of joy and happiness. My G-d, I love her, but who is she? She is my love, She is her and no one else. I know her, I’m sure of it? There was once another One I loved and couldn’t live without, But that is the past and the past is gone. Only the future remains. It remains and is not set, Only scheduled and organized. I can change, and so can the future. So with this I ask, Can I have the one I love? Will she be mine again? Will she come back? Will she give me a second try? My reasons why, Because My G-d, do I love her, Who is she? She’s a goddess, She’s a saint, She’s a blessing, She’s a curse, She’s my love, And it hurts. My G-d, do I love her, but Even after all this, I still don’t know WHO THE HELL SHE IS |
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We remember...
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We remember what happened I was appearently torn You appearently broken And should a friendship be gained? An opportunity lost? A catastrophy avoided? This love should be enough You and me no one else I hate to share So do you Now there’s this/a site or three A few girls intriguing me Dare think I Or Even consider The chance of a match A perfect fit Rather I stay here Ignoring a bit Pushing back Lust A pure fucking buddist I have everything I need So why must I do This? opportunity lost? A catastrophy avoided? This love should be enough You and me |
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