..Not Quite Punk Yet...

[Punk Rebelist]

Hey all, I was hoping that you could crit some of my poetry for me...If any of you use the MC boards, my sn is the same as this, or if you were at chickclick, you may remember some of my poetry..

well, anyway, i'm not really good at introductions, so I'll just post one of my poems up...

A Dozen Letters Later, I ShAtTeReD

Fifteen years; amazing, that
i've lived this long, dodging
countless "hollas" of death's call...
amazing, that I've survived through..
this..

(..and so we sat, listening to
Morissette and screaming our
tiny lungs' limits [pens tainting paper]...)

So, what is it I have to show, other than
millions of words scribbled in
hundreds of poems...so...
tell me, what is it I can provide them with,
other than these simple phrases, filled with..
pain...

(...and we sat around,
listening to Alanis and shouting at the sky,
trying so hard to prove worthy...pens
painting the lines black [trying to pierce a cloud with our arrows of words])

And so, here I am, fifteen years later,
still hoping that the past will just be unwritten,
shoved back into the head it was thought from since
there still isn't a god...and so,
here we are, youngersters in a world filled with
old men, with no one to turn to..and so..


I sat, clenching my pen with white knuckles,
singing along with Alanis Morissette because

I've always understood her words
(better than my own).


[glow=pink,2,300]----[/glow][glow=blue,2,300]Punk[/glow][glow=pink,2,300]----[/glow]

[Ich Liebe Rammstein]

That was awsome!!!
Keep writing!!


~~~~~~Heather,(Edward Furlong,Mike Shinoda,Chester Bennington,KidRock & Joe C. LOVER!!!!!! Linkin Park RULES!!!!!!)

[Punk Rebelist]

thanks LinkinPark_girl
---
June 19, 2002

Drugs Make Me Sick,Literally

Sat beside me, holding my sweat-drenched hand, while
I offered three years of drugs and hate to
the porcelin God.
Kissed my lips, lined with bile, whispering
that he'd always be there for me, and only me, because
in his words, "you're my bitch."
(He was such a sweetie)
Held my hand, letting me scream, and
bleed, and break, and he sang to me;
always having understood my love for music.


"Th-is isn't the wa-y, it-'s suppo-sed t-o b-e,"
I stuttered, tears filling my mouth with salt, and
he simply nodded...continuing his song;
always having understood my love for music.[/color]
-------

Birthday Tears To Kill The Flames

Nothing left to scream for, and
when I try to sing, my voice cracks;

at age 15,

I'm burned out.

Tired, worn down, and
I'm just plain fed-up with "try harder"
(Realized, nothing will be good enough for the
crowd beneath my feet).

It seems to me,

we all crave tears and murder, but

we've run out of reasons...

why is it up to me to supply them?

Been worn down to the bone, literally
(they all stab my flesh),and

my eyes burn from lack of sleep for

I pulled an all-nighter, all this week, trying

so hard

to get a song done.

At age 15...I'm...so...

...so...

(...Please, make me finish this,

you're the only one

still breathing...)

[glow=pink,2,300]----[/glow][glow=blue,2,300]Punk[/glow][glow=pink,2,300]----[/glow]

[Punk Rebelist]

United As (N)Ever

Turn this world upside down to
make us right-side up again...

or something of the sort.

I’m settled on the ceiling again,
stoned, which seems to be my eternal state;
fixated on the color below, above and around me,
desperately struggling to figure out what

they're singing for.

Flip this world over, for
I’ve forgotten what it feels like to fall;

gazing at a snail, trying so damn hard

to understand why

I have to run 300 miles to restart something

I want to end...and somehow,

through this, I’ve become the radical rebel;
ingesting the grain instead of letting it

sweep me away

standing on the ceiling instead of the floor like

everyone else, or um,

could it possibly be the other way around?

Hold this fucking nation above your head, please, then
let it plunge, shattering against the pavement, because

we all need to make unmarked starts, but

I’m not in form and can’t run 300 miles, so

just...

....turn the world inside out, for me,

because then we can all be

right-side out again...or

....something of the sort...

------------------------
Gargoyles and White Wine...

He whispered softly,
letting the words drip slowly
from his acidic tongue:

"Gargoyles and white wine..." and

I nodded, never understanding his rambles, but
never caring enough to ask.

"Yeah," I mumbled, tongue stumbling over
syllables but never pausing,

"Gargoyles and white..." stopped,

forgetting the rest, but
he knew what I meant and took my head
between his hands,
kissing my nose once.

Putting his mouth over my ear, he whispered
in that sexy way, his breath tainted with
alcohol:

"...the punks' way of life..."

"Yeah," I mumbled,

never really understanding, but
never caring enough to ask...

[glow=pink,2,300]----[/glow][glow=blue,2,300]Punk[/glow][glow=pink,2,300]----[/glow]

[HairsprayQueen]

As I said,those are great!!


I love reading your stuff,Punk.

[violet_rose]

hey I think your poetry is well written and beautiful.

One of my favourites is

Drugs Make Me Sick

Sat beside me, holding my sweat-drenched hand, while
I offered three years of drugs and hate to
the porcelin God.



keep up the super poetry!.

[Punk Rebelist]

Thanks guys

After the Curtain Falls, or, in other words,

When Feelings Become Knives

Sing with heart,
make it sound sincere;
play with forged emotions and
make the whole world sob in horror.
Sing with heart, until
every soul in the crowd has a
puddle of greed covering their feet.

This time, make it resonate truth,
sing with emotions yet to be exposed;
don't break tune, don't lose heart, and
make the guitar shriek out fruitlessly.

No, not good enough yet,
use more heart, invent emotions,
use fucking EMOTION damMIT,
make it sound REAL THIS TIME;
force tears if necessary, just
make it sound frickin’ real.

Don't break tune, don't lose heart;
make the guitar screech

in grief...in anguish;

make it sound REAL, but
don't lose control.

(No, not good enough...

sing with HEART and

get some damn talent)

[glow=pink,2,300]----[/glow][glow=blue,2,300]Punk[/glow][glow=pink,2,300]----[/glow]

[violet_rose]

Sing with heart,
make it sound sincere;
play with forged emotions and
make the whole world sob in horror.
Sing with heart, until
every soul in the crowd has a
puddle of greed covering their feet.



*Good job!* keep posting