Who are you?

I am the one who waits by with peace.
Encircled within the inner spark of my being,
I wait quietly for the rage to fade.
For your eyes to open,
For your ears to hear.
For you, Little Brother,
to see what I hold dear.

I have sailed my ships across troubled waves.
I have mounted the Everest of Life's treacherous tongue.
I have danced in the fields of wisdom's bosom.
I have heard your cry little brother,
I have come to mend your tears.

For I am the peace keeper,
burdened among these pains I hold,
through the wax of the candles I mold,
Raising,
Mending,
these burdened, tattered souls.

I'll cradle yours too, my brother.
Like a mother nuzzles her child to her blessed lungs.
You'll find your way, no longer stumbling, nor crumbling.
I've heard this song that you have sung.

So close your eyes and rest your furnace.
I'll restock your coal; your kerosene.
The wood will deplete into purposeful ash.
I'll blow this breath into your lungs to breathe.

Whatever's left of me to give,
Save your Fire.
Save your Passion.
And never, my beloved brother,
Ever.
Forget to live.
For I am the Peace Keeper,
I'll hold the tattered gravy of your soul.

What am I?

i am he
    who rides with death
    a lover of flames
    worshipper of sin

 what am i?

here is a clue

i oppose light
roaming at night
cumming for cries
bathing in blood
of the innocent
robber of viginty

 what am i?

i am he
   who livith with satan
   A lover of darkness
   worshipper of sin


  what am i?

i am that, which shalt be with thee now to iternity
    that, which you cannot run from
i am what spreads corruption
i am what spreads hatred

my children
         i tell you now who i am

         I AM EVIL!

who am i?
what am i?
im opposites
weak and strong
small and big
im complements
soft and gentle
harsh and loud
im many things
i suppose it depends on the day

im whatever is left when you take it all away.

I am me.
And will always be
Simply, me

Self Depleted


I'm like a penny thrown
for good luck
tossed into the pauses between words
that suffocated my chances
with empty denials

I've been over the line so long
I'm accepting my sentence with resignation
even taking comfort in the pain
the only old friend still around

I can't fall too far down
I don't get that high anymore
my pride delved into ignored pleas
and fell prey to the silence

a whisper of who I was
reflecting a replayed person
there's no room left for my echo
I'm just a shadow
waiting

praying I'm not immortal

littlePrince said:who am i?
what am i?
im opposites
weak and strong
small and big
im complements
soft and gentle
harsh and loud
im many things
i suppose it depends on the day

thaTS awesome

 I am

I could see your unapproving  
nostrils like a rounded waste paper  
crumpled on all sides
stigmatic cartilages flagged up in an ironic  
widened revolt,  
least to say, those  
rigid shrunken lips  front falling  
shabbily in a piggy-nose  fashion  
all in a displeased display
some sort of erectile team work!?
 
And, what a disfigured buffalo
face you look like as you inhale acrid uric  
stench sparsely mixed with a divine  
note, an undoubted heaven’s  
rosy deo note..
No doubt on that folks, as I am no brand  
ambassador of that dubious  
cosmetic brand  
Its more on a differential plane I put this  
praise on such altitude touching  
heavens...All credits to you,  
such a strong creator of a deadly repulsive  
circumference like a warfare agent!!
 
How terrible an aroma gets raped by you!
 
I mean, by your unbearable  
emits of twin black moon exposed  
armpits out of a largely un-purposed  
thoughtless  escapist pose of raised
arms with tight-married  fingers  
pillowed on back head  
rescuing self by numerous blind reasons  
shouted  in defence like fat paid  
dummy rallyists sloganeering  
calls of a causeless protagonist
 
Ahh! Back head...is that still a whining  
pain spot indicting of your convenient
negligence to vessel rupturing shooting  
pressures that could be a life-claimer  
any time now like your unannounced  
quizmaster ripping apart
your non-preparedness  
once and again, in those stereotypical  
bookworm institutes you were made to spent
 
Is that your ingenuity being misplaced there  
or you not even worth in such mundane instances  
that you keep on climbing  
high doors of a lost  
heaven of distant dreams, unheeding  
dust-blanketed thickets you reside,  
coiled hard in dark closets?
 
As your little one thrusts a shuttlecock in your
vision, always that she had struggled
enough to divert your abstractive flights, but then
it’s a telling plight which she loses  
almost all times, this time though you fix a stare, a real one,  
on that feathered conical thing,
Couldn’t answer her simple query , Is that a real birdie  
or any other?  Your blurred sight
dangled between two felt factors, softness of a natural  
feather overtaken by a smiling synthetic
sheen ...It’s again the  
invisible being lighting upon subtly ..that it’s fake, got to be.
 
Reversing corollaries doesn’t arise.
There isn’t any parent for your evidential driven eyes...  
....for a sudden plop of inferences.
Consequences merely you see in its discretion, to question?  
Trace back to the point of origin, hold yourself .I am.

"Hollow reflections"

My reflections are hallow.
I can only see this callus shell.
Maybe because I'm stuck here,
Wandering this endless hell.
Reality weighs heavy,
As I fight to find my scattered pieces.
I am powerless.
The light in my eyes,
Has vanished so long ago.
A mere shadow of my former self.
I look in every corner,
And I still find no help.
I'm losing strength quickly
My skin is paper thin,
I'm starting to look sickly
And my eyes now full of sin.
I sulk
I grieve
But still, no release.
I'm tired
I'm weary
I'm a waste of space.
Where have my morals gone?
And why?
Why don't I care?
Because I clearly do not.
Who am I?
And what monster have I become?

I’M WHAT I AM

My essence lies in my mind,
as I try to analyze everything
in a calmly fashion
without any rash actions
before making decisions.

Honestly, I'm what I am
but could be anyone you wanted me to be:
a lawyer, a doctor or statesman.
I would rather be a poetic engineer
who could see things in a different way
other people might see otherwise.

I always say it, as it is
cold TRUTH based on facts
and well analyzed conclusions;
I firmly believe PEACE and ORDER
could still be achieved in this dying, chaotic world,
only if we learn to listen to our inner voice
and love one another as brothers and sisters
regardless of sex, color and religion.

I’m what I am - a budding poet,
self-proclaimed poetic engineer
trying to learn this art of weaving words
only a gifted soul could possibly do,
but the fire within sparks my verses!

Very good entries everyone!

I enjoyed reading ur art. Very deep. Keep up the good work.

Short sweet and to the point.

I am the one huddled alone in my private world.
My thoughts are my own, my only friend is myself.
To others, I'm carefree.
Spontaneous.
Sensitive and caring.
Humorous.
Tis all a facade.
A charade.
A mask.

A spinning top without its spin,
A deck of cards no jokers in,
A yoyo with a broken string,
An aeroplane with damaged wing,
A tricycle with pedals worn,
A picture book with pages torn,
An old tin drum without a beat,
A garden swing with splintered seat,
A storm without its thunder clap,
A garden hose without a tap,
A cloud without a sky to fill,
A rush of strength without the will,
An endless tick without its tock,
A key without a door to lock,
A jigsaw with a missing piece,
A well oiled wheel without its grease
A starlit night with lack of stars
A prison cell devoid of bars
A football game without a ball
A loving heart without its soul

Broken