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I remember you. In the church bells on Sunday. When the fallen leaves of autumn have gone away. In the fierce blowing winds of winter. I've already paid off my crimes and sins. I remember you. I've already paid my dues by playing the blues. From the crow river to the missipppi. A Sioux warrior free to live her dream. I forgive you but I'll never forget the scars and wounds you gave me. I remember you. Because I was a bet between you and father. I'll never forget you have had no conscience or soul. Even when you tried putting me in my place. I spit in your face. I'm not society girl I live in the real world. I'll live in my teepee instead of mansion life I pity the woman who'll be your wife. I remember you.

That's good, SSB. You always have vivid descriptions and passion. I like reading your songs and poems.

Where the Circles Meet

Diagram
Inside my mind
With overlapping circles.

One says friendship
One, romance
And then they meet.

There, inside
The middle space
Is lots of stuff to work with,

Humor, Witt,
And inside jokes,
But mostly love.

Truth be told
I want to be
Inside the romance circle.

But I know
That you don't
And that's okay.

Please don't run
Away from here
And back to being strangers.

Where the circles overlap,
That's where I'll be.

~

I love your poems Abigail! I have written several since coming to RPR... I just haven't gotten up to sharing them publicly yet. Maybe in ten months time.

Hehe...

Wait...if there an actual album then I'll want to know about that.
*side-eyes SexySultryBabe*

Thank you Dunedain Ranger. Welp the one or two you've put on here, and your fabulous Lord of the Rings forum posts...you know I'm a fan so the appreciation is MUTUAL.

Also I'm on a poetry kick today so I'll be posting another one. Not tryin to hog the thread but lots of "emo" poetry today flowing for some reason.

History Repeats

So, who is it this time?

And is it the same?

Who has commandeered your mind?

Who's winning this game?

Will you try to solve problems that don't even exist?

Will you have ten-thousand questions?

Compile a running list?

Will you crave constant confirmation that she's doing okay?

Will you think about her 27 hours a day?

Who is it this time?

Who is it now?

And what is this void hat keeps you seeking kindred spirits out?

Voraciously scouring

Reaping beauty from their words.

What is this desperate, endless aching to be heard?

Cool Teacher

I am the cool teacher.

I am the teacher who no one respects

Who can't get anyone to sit down.

Who can't get anyone to be quiet.

But I'm the one a kid tells about the time he went back to Mexico with his family and ran drugs over the border all summer.

I'm the one a kid tells about how she's "not good at school," how her mom's in prison, how she's trying not to cut.

I'm the teacher who commits the first cardinal sin of teaching and tries to be their friend.

I am the cool teacher.

great poem Abigail

Another fabulous poem Abigail

You all have beautiful stories to tell! Very inspiring and insightful!

[Dystopian Anomaly]
One, two, three.
Abandoned factories as far as the eye can see.
Pink, purple, blue.
The wind in this desolate landscape blew.
Lead, bed, read.
The floor in this place is covered in blood red.
Plight, fight, write.
The people were right.
Imposter, disaster, blaster.
I'm the monster.
Dread, bled, pled.
They should've just left me for dead.
Five, six, four.
Good thing I'm not hungry anymore.
Fourteen, seven, zero.
See you tomorrow~

Edit: this one is quite old, back when I was experimenting with rhyming. I'll be posting a new one soon.

a n t i - p o e m

I'm a guy that appreciates good poetry.
Except for those kinds of poems that rhyme.

I'm more of a free-verse kinda person.
In terms of poetry, of course.

The last time I wrote a poem was in...
...my freshman year of high-school.

I thought they were pretty good, the ones that I wrote.
I saved them in a box for future referencing.

I open up the box four years later, and whaddaya know?
They all suck.

There was only two papers in them.
A poem about being yourself and a poem about God.

It was...too abstract for my liking and...
If we're being honest here...
...I don't even believe in the latter anymore.

In the last deal of the cards. You broke my heart. Judas and jezebel. May you burn in hell. In the last deal of the cards. The love between us was a lie. Farewell and goodbye. Judas and jezebel. May you burn in hell. In the last deal of the cards. You'll pay for your crimes and sins. The next man in my life will get heaven. Neither of you have consciences or souls. Judas and jezebel. May you burn in hell. In every ending is a new beginning. In every beginning is a ending. As my guitar plays George Harrison's. Beware of darkness. Judas and jezebel. May you burn in hell.

I'm working on it. Release date unknown.

In the snowstorms of spring. The fury and power of a summer thunderstorm. The freindship and passion.a partnership between a man woman can give share give one another. I fight my battles struggles wars for acceptance and true love. In the fallen leaves of autumn. In the fierce blowing winds of winter. I remember my ancestors at my powwows in my teepee by the missipppi. I thank the great spirit for all his creations. I am a Lakota Sioux warrior. I fight my battles struggles wars for acceptance and true love. I am no longer a trophy girlfriend for a wealthy playboy who wrongly thought women are sex toys. I closed the door to prejudice racism and opened the door to freedom. As my guitar plays "before they make me run" by the rolling stones.I am a Lakota Sioux warrior. I fight my battles struggles wars for acceptance and true love.(for crazy horse sitting bull and all my freinds on RPRepository❤❤))

Not sure whether or not you'll consider it to be poetry but here it is.

I'm strewn across my bed,
thinking of a million ways
to say "I love you,"
but none are perfect enough,
for you are you.

Poetry is poetry is poetry. Hehe

Lovely job

I think poetry captures an emotional moment with poetic language (like hyperbole..."a million ways...) So indeed!

Waking Up in Your Hometown

Woke in San Antonio
And turned down Wurzbach Rd
Past three things
who names have changed
Ten times since years ago

But I could find that restaurant where
We always used to go
I know which way to turn
As if it's etched into my soul

Take Wurzbach south to Fredericksburg
Turn left and there's the sign
Came back with fifteen tacos
These are yours, and these are MINE

What is this?
What's this feeling,
Coming over me this morning.

It's just restaurants,
It's just road names,
It's just signs

It's strange
Waking up
It your hometown
One quiet morning
Where the air itself
Smells like
A vintage wine

Where the spacings
Of the buildings
Feel just right
And it fits you
Like an old glove in the twighlight

And you're not nostalgic
You're not to coming back
But you understand songs about cities
"Under the bridge" with it's "windy kisses"
The city of angels with it's smoggy halo

"Keep Austin Weird" and Remember the Alamo
There's that one place that we all can go
To feel that freaky, low-key, familiarity
And try not to mistake it for destiny

You try not to mistake it for a homesick plea
Of a heart that's "Homeward Bound"

You try to remember the lonliness
You try to remember the snail-slow pace
You try to remember that you never did fit in

You mourn the loss of time with people
You mourn the loss of love
Since this is your hometown,
Not your home

This is a place where my life could've stopped
But instead, it still kept on going
This is a place where I'd given up
But instead, I still kept growing.

Destiny calls
In the shopping malls
In the sprawling highways
In the Makers Spaces

Destiny calls
In the Tolltag bills
In the art museums
In the quirkiest places

But it's strange
Waking up
It your hometown
One quiet morning
Where the air itself
Smells like
A vintage wine

Where the spacings
of the buildings
feel just right
And it fits you
like an old glove
In the twighlight

Waking up in San Antonio
Knowing every way to go
This city is my friend
It's in my bones