Friday, May 3, 2013

POEMS FROM 1989 - I was 16 or so, sophmore in high school


POEMS FROM 1989 - I was 16 or so, sophmore in high school

by Laura A Collins (Notes) on Tuesday, August 18, 2009 at 8:30pm
Destiny 17Feb89
I called upon the spirit world
to tell me of our fate
They told me the die was cast
and we were all too late

I asked them why
and then they laughed
with tears in their eyes
it was too late they said
when the world was not yet born
for even then the threads were spun
and man and destiny were separate but one

Man cannot change destiny
but destiny can change man
and both so they decreed
are changed by the timeless sands

and along with the sands
they're changed by fate
and the feelings of mortal men
and of course, they're also changed by religion and by sin

For these are the factors that shape our lives
they always have and will
as long as the sun shall forever shine
and the rain the oceans fill

and this is what they told me
on that lonely plane of thought
and then returned to their spirit world
where mortal men are naught


Oft 07Mar89
I oft hear stories of wondrous times
of kings and Camelot and sphinx rhymes

and then I long to see shining bold knights
or dragons spreading rainbow wings in dragonflight

Or elves, with toadstool ring-around
who dance like the wind without e'er a sound

And I also wish to hear mermaid song
or see Hercules, brave and strong

But then I guess this is a part of what makes me, me
Dreaming of stories and writing poetry


Mirror 09Mar89
If I look in the mirror
just what I see
Is a survivor who is coming alive
staring back at me

I had no troubles
that were horribly tough
But the ones I had
I think were enough

I loved the warm years
of so long ago
I hated the lonely years
Of Murphy and cold snow

I despised myself
and all the world
I would listen to no one
and no reason was heard

I've come back alive now
and I'll never go back
Before that can happen
I die, perhaps

Or I might just go insane
One in all - aren't they the same?


Friendship 10Mar89
I had a friend who hurt me
and yeah, her name was Kim
I listened to her problems
and I listened about Him

But in return I expected her
to listen to my poetry
I thought she would because
it's a part of me

I found I was wrong
she didn't want to hear
At first I was shocked
and my eyes began to tear

By rejecting the poetry
I write to stay free
I found she had also
rejected me

My temper began to simmer
and then it started to blow
I began to think awful thought
terrible things to know

The next day came and went
I was furious in school
and I broke a very
personal rule

I told her she had hurt me
and what I could not say
something I had never done
until that very day

She looked surprised and she said
"I really didn't know"
I replied, "I shouldn't
have had to tell you."


Raging Angels 28Mar89
The angels raged and the earth
trembled in its fear
All people cringed as the angels
they did hear
Tiny babies cowered behind
their gilded doors
and hysterical mothers fainted
upon crowded floors
But very few thought to
pray their prayers
to an indifferent God
who once had cared
So slowly time passed on
as only time ever can
And after the angels raged
time alone was left to stand


Venus 02Apr89
It was the day that Venus left
hours before the sun died
that the world gave a horrid scream
and even Chaos cried

That was the day the spirits came
to the lonely Tour of Kings
and upon that timeless plain
Gave moan to their final song

The dying moon flew from the sky
in search of another world
and the heavens glow stark white
in the atomic bomb's eternal night


A Story To Tell 04Apr89
Long ago, in my life gone past
there is a story to tell
a story of pain and hurt
and my own personal hell

When in my dark world
no one else was there
I cried my hurt
to a silent world
and thought of suicide in despair

Far away someone heard
my small, despairing cry
and help came to surround me
in arms of healing peace
for one who wanted to die

I slowly opened up
with people holding my hand
and I learned how to live
As I learned, a long
forgotten laugh filled the land

I am happy now
as forever I'll try to be
I've learned to live
and how to laugh
and I've learned to accept me



A Moth 04Apr89
Sometimes I see myself
as a moth around a flame
wanting to go nearer
but scared to death
of being burnt again

My life is full of living
I do the best I can
But I never think
that it's enough
Something on which to stand

I pray to God
every night - before I go to bed
God help me live
alive for now
That's what I've always said

I was alone and so cold
for such a very long time
I couldn't believe
in God or myself
Being I of Isolated old

The my world was filled with pain
the misery of being alive
But I am starting to heal
and once again
to be whole inside



The Lonely One 06Apr89
You are the lonely one,
the only one,
alone in the crowd.
I look at you -
and I see
one of the trembling proud.
You have left me behind,
just as you've left life;
and now you feel no more.
You've turned out the lights,
and faded into the night,
by yourself -
to become a shadow.
You've left me alone,
by the road,
praying for your return.
But, I know it's in vain;
life's call you hear no more.
Your ears are deaf,
and your mouth is mute -
you can tell me nothing now.
Your eyes are shut,
and blind to life.
That's how you are forever.
I know not when I'll see you
in my mind's eye,
your picture inward turned.
I'll see a painting,
or perhaps a tear,
and I'll think of you.
But, you're a memory now,
and have no right to interfere,
with something you've left behind.
You forsook life,
and it's forsaken you -
that's how you wanted it to be.
But, by your actions,
you left our lives,
with something taken out.
Because when you left,
you broke our hearts,
leaving your place alone.
And all we know now,
by ourselves,
is that you're still -
the
lonely
one




The River of Tears 29Apr89
The river Styx,
A river of tears,
Where the Dead's lost wails arise -
Like thick banks of fog,
Sent out of the mists;
Tortured tears fall from blind eyes.

Sent to assail the Deaf King's ears
And pierce a heart of stone,
The wearied souls trudge dully on -
All in their misery alone.

Each as a message,
From a world of pain,
The home of Suffering Fools.
Sent across the Styx
To a passionless King
Who is indifferently cruel.


Night 09Oct89
The night glides in on a silent whisper,
and then, slowly I begin to realize -
she harbors within her the madness
of tortures tears in screaming eyes.

She is dressed in the sackcloth of despair
twisted and torn, embroidered by thorns.
Proudly - in tatters, she glides without,
into the mists of society's storms. 

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