Not Titled

[SilverRaven]

This room is yellow

With pictures of children

And books

And memories

But it is not

Where I long to be

I dream

Of Cobblestone streets

The smell of salt air

And the commotion

That comes with large catches

The complete exchange

Of there two worlds

Ride upon my bravery

My tenacity

Required for that first step

And I have come to find

That I am terrified

To give the unknown

Chance to breathe

In lieu of the familiar

[piuma]

sounds lovely this place you long to be. can i come with you.

thanks for shring. i wisked away with it. i like poetry that can create images in my head xx

[SilverRaven]

Ode To the Too Good Woman

She hides her life

Behind a smiling face

Yet inside

Something is missing

The force within her

Urging her to live and create

To do and to be

Hiding as self-sacrifice

And one day she will have a blowout

Like a tire ridden too long

Suddenly she will leave

and everyone will wonder

'How did this happen?

Why when her life was perfect

Did she go?

It comes as a shock to every man

Yet every woman knows

Why she left

To Zimbabwe to help the starving

Or to Ireland to dance among ruins

Yes, women know

You cannot stay locked inside too long

Something will give

It always does

And when it finally does

Women leave families, husbands and lives

They have helped in starting

Because she was too good for too long

Neglecting herself

Her very soul

For the too good woman

[SilverRaven]

sounds lovely this place you long to be. can i come with you.

thanks for shring. i wisked away with it. i like poetry that can create images in my head xx

it seems that almost all of my writing is like that because and maybe it's a BPD thing but I can't see pictures in my head so I try to create them. I have a great imagination but what you see as a picture, I see as words. like the color red. if I close my eyes I can't see red but words like hot, lava and whatnot go through my brain. dunno if that makes sense or not.

[piuma]

i think i do. your second poem almost made me cry. for to very different reasons. i hope you dont mind me saying what they are.

1. the second verse, made my stomach churn, it was like reading how i felt went i wanted to die.

although i do understand this poem isnt about suicide, it just seemed to pull strings.

2. my mum went through some difficult things last year, kind of a mid life crisis, and she felt like she wanted to split from my step dad, i imagine her thinking about these thoughts. she was always hinting about running away. im glad she didnt. it would have broken me.

thankyou for sharing. you evoked a little sadness in me, i try to avoid sadness, dont know why, but i think i shouldnt, anyway rambling again lol. i think it was really good :)

[SilverRaven]

*hugs*

I didn't find my book yet but I remembered I had a really old myspace so after I logged into that one, I saw I have a few poems from it on there. I'm still looking tho. :(

[SilverRaven]

I feel like rotted wood

Somehow I betrayed

All I hold dear

For longing of the unknown

I placed Self

Above the Whole

And I deserve punishment

Of being eaten alive

Rendered useless

By my own guilt

[Shelley]

Ode To the Too Good Woman

She hides her life

Behind a smiling face

Yet inside

Something is missing

The force within her

Urging her to live and create

To do and to be

Hiding as self-sacrifice

And one day she will have a blowout

Like a tire ridden too long

Suddenly she will leave

and everyone will wonder

'How did this happen?

Why when her life was perfect

Did she go?

It comes as a shock to every man

Yet every woman knows

Why she left

To Zimbabwe to help the starving

Or to Ireland to dance among ruins

Yes, women know

You cannot stay locked inside too long

Something will give

It always does

And when it finally does

Women leave families, husbands and lives

They have helped in starting

Because she was too good for too long

Neglecting herself

Her very soul

For the too good woman

Brilliant, the first verse and third verse espesially...touched a raw nerve, made my eye's weep, can relate, and it's like your describing me exactly. I left my first husband and kid's due to alcoholism and depression. Eats at me every day.

[SilverRaven]

Last Gasp

I'm drowning in the sea

Someone keeps pulling me down

And I realize I'm going to die

Because I can't catch my breath

I am dragged down by the entirety

Of this life I have created

And soon my lungs will burst

If I don't disentangle myself from it

I wish now more than ever

For a lifeguard who sees the plight I'm in

To swim and save me

The beach is empty here

There is nobody but me

Me and the crazy old woman of the sea

Who knows better than I

About what I I need

She's killing me and with good reason

I just don't want to accept her

Or what she knows must be done

I fight and I'm still fighting

When it would be far less painful

To accept her embrace

[SilverRaven]

when people tell me what they think of what I write, be it good or bad, I don't mind. you see, I write how I feel and I know not everyone is going to 'get it' but when someone does and they tell me they do, I feel so less alone. I'll never write the great american novel and I'll never be famous but if just one person can read this stuff and think to themselves that..I am not alone...then I feel like it's okay that it won't or that I won't. because they understand. they get it.

so to you guys I wanna hug you all and tell you that yeah, I've been there and I know.

[Roses]

Like the verse. xxx

[gavin]

Dear silverRavin

Writing application of a life lived privately,

Is like putting a stethoscope to your heart

And listening to the fluxions, that document

Your day, that tear you asunder where friction

Prevails, in which pharmacy guidelines

still make you thump violent .

feels like a pack saddle for the troubles of the world,

with all that payload volume,

a musketeer with ball-cartridges of pain;

[walker]

silverRaven

Ode - exactly