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Poetry & Verse

I'm one of those people that fancies himself a writer of some sort or another. From time to time, I've written various items, usually poetry. My subject matter ranges from horror to non-fiction to love poetry.

I've placed some works here, so that people can see what a terrible writer I am. The sampling I have is mostly love poetry, which doesn't exactly help with the quality of my available works. I've taken to writing short fiction, lately--although most of what I've written so far looks largely autobiographical...

There's a certain stereotype about poets and writers--they're morose, over-analytical, self-pitying, and decidedly arrogant. I'd like to say that I'm none of those things, but I tend to write better when I get into those modes of thought.

Have a taste of my thoughts, and sample the feelings of some of the wordsmiths that came before me.


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This is my song for you     Many     Sungrazer


Penelope     Time     Karma's Lever     Untitled
For Mary Ruth


Delicious Hubris     Perhaps another lifetime
For "Betty"

She's beautiful, isn't she? Une jeune déesse, n'est-ce pas? . . . You love her. She'll only break your heart. It's a fact. It's tragic. You're already in love with her. And even though I warn you, even though I guarantee you that the girl will only hurt you terribly, you'll still pursue her. Ain't love grand?

Nora Dinsmoor, Great Expectations

We put a lot of emphasis on love in our lives--a little too much, perhaps. Of course, what's better than the high we get from limerence and love? I think we'd all be a little happier if that were not so strong.


Everything     For Your Heart
For Victoria Lee

Of all that may reveal the weaknesses of a poet in the state of happiness, the poems he writes in that time will likely be trite, flat, and insipid. I suppose my pen appreciates the break-up with Lee, but my heart would rather write poorly . . .


Abraham       Sometimes       Twilight
For Rose Marie

I have to remind myself that some birds aren't meant to be caged. Their feathers are just too bright. And when they fly away, the part of you that knows it was a sin to lock them up does rejoice. But still, the place you live is that much more drab and empty that they're gone.

I guess I just miss my friend.

Red, The Shawshank Redemption

Rose Marie was my significant other for almost five years. She was my light, my muse, my life. She inspired me to write these verses through leaving me. I suppose I should thank her for that . . .


I don't care...             Lovesong
By Stacey       For Stacey

I told Stacey once that I didn't believe in soul-mates. Of all the people in the world that could be one, however, she would be mine. We are kindred, she and I.


Silence
For Sarah


somewhere i have
e.e. cummings

Eyes that last I saw in tears
T.S. Eliot

Si tu savais
Heinrich Hart

Puedo Escribir Los Versos . . .
Pablo Neruda

Sonnet XXVII       Sonnet XC
William Shakespeare

Reflections on a Gift of Watermelon Pickle Received from a Friend Called Felicity
John Tobias

Kilroy
Peter Viereck

He Wishes For The Cloths of Heaven      He Gives His Beloved Certain Rhymes
The Lover Mourns For The Loss Of Love
William Butler Yeats