Provenance's Poetry

[Buddy_mybb_import10515]

“One Last Thought”

This moment is what a writer would dream of,
The orange glow of the sun,
The cool Arizona breeze sweeping over their soul,
And the sweet melody of a soft arrangement.

My revolver flicks from my side,
Arms raised, eyes unblinking,
A shot rings through my soul,
Rebounding off what is left.

I rethink that moment,
Claret life pouring from my body,
Pulsating agony as my foe sees that I am done,
Faith is all that remains.

I am defined,
Not by my hopes or dreams,
Nor my actions or life,
But in my death.

My being in a box,
Waiting unflinchingly,
For what lies beyond?

I shall see.

Love

Whatever you need,
Is what I will be,
Whatever you see,
Shall be part of me.

I will go to the end,
Of the earth and sea,
Wherever you need me,
Is where I will be.

They say love is blind,
But how can that be,
Even in my dreams,
It is you that I see.

Words

The words that we hear,
Are forever sound,
Provoking our dreams,
Onward bound.

They float through the air,
The music of life,
Without them we'd stray,
Lost to our strife.

Marked by our hope,
Spread by our dreams,
Forever they travel,
Between you and me.

Death

Like a sign it waits for me,
Forever watching it sets us free,
The pain that's here will be gone,
With the end of life, we end our song,

It was fun while we were living,
Sitting, waiting for our passing,
We'll leave this earth with a fear,
Does heaven wait or are we here.

You spend your life waiting on,
But what you wanted is long gone,
This one life is what you need.
With your death you lose your means.

Something Sad

I still hear your fleeting hope,
The draw of your passion,
Praying to my soul,
Stealing my thoughts.

I pray that one day I will understand them,
That I will know their needs,
To help the helpless dreams,
For now I need you here.

I can no longer here their voices,
I know not what I shall see,
I can no longer understand...
Because those screams came from me.

I wish you were still here,
To explain this lonely path,
I wish that I could hear you,
Oh, how lonely it is to die last.

Amplified

This emptiness,
Is it really that bad?
Is it because of what is left?
A hole where you used to be.

I can try to replace you,
But who is big enough to fit that gap?
Not a god, not another,
But maybe a dream.

That's it... a dream!
A dream of what we had,
A dream of what I have,
But what do I have?

A dream of you.

Connections

There once was a man,
Who's name was Tom,
Tom was a man,
Who killed his mom.

There once was a woman,
Her name was Mary,
Who's son was a man,
Who's name was Tom.

There once was a boy,
Who's name was Bob,
Bob was a boy,
Who killed his mom.

There once was a woman,
Who's name was Sue,
Who's husband was Tom,
Who's son was Bob.

 

[Pink Floyd]

Read about 3, it's late so I'll finish tomorrow if I remember, lol. You've got writing potential, that's for sure. here's one that I wrote a few years ago, some parts wont make sense but it's because I was like 15 and didn't know what everything meant. I think at least, lemme dig it up;

Memories live and others die, what is held in is to keep, and what is not is to be left behind to give you the choice of living in the past. What you choose is who you are, and who you have to become. Memories make a subliminal self conscience state of mind and live in your soul to stay with you in each of your lives. Hold dear what you treasure, for it will help you live who and what you want to be, and let go what is no longer of any superior importance, for it will hold you back and drown your sub conscience with unnecessary regret or pain. memories server there purpose as we serve ours. And we live and we die, but our greatness and positive memories

stay with us forever

 

[Buddy_mybb_import10515]

Read about 3, it's late so I'll finish tomorrow if I remember, lol. You've got writing potential, that's for sure. here's one that I wrote a few years ago, some parts wont make sense but it's because I was like 15 and didn't know what everything meant. I think at least, lemme dig it up;

It's like your talking in a circle, slowly building up to the idea.
I like it. :happy2:

 

[Pink Floyd]

I honestly don't even remember what it's about. I ought to write more, it's a healthy exercise. You should too.

 

[Buddy_mybb_import10515]

I'm not very confident in my ability, but I try to practice often.

 

[Pink Floyd]

Just that you have a small collection of pieces shows enough if you ask me. Build your confidence, you certainly have the capability. I mean look, you've got like 6 poems write there. You obviously don't have to limit yourself.

 

[Buddy_mybb_import10515]

Thank you for the encouragement.
I'll try to crank more out.

I get told that too many of my poems are hopeless though.
I'll try to go for something happier.

 

[Pink Floyd]

Any time . Hopeless meaning sad? That's fine, art is art dude.

 

[ireppgold_mybb_import12659]

That last one had me mind fucked so bad

 

[Buddy_mybb_import10515]

Any time . Hopeless meaning sad? That's fine, art is art dude.

Yep, hopeless as in sad.
If you notice, only two are about good times, and only one is silly/fun.

Things are getting better all the time, though. :nice: