Submissions by Page_Writer (Mad Girl)
POEMS AND SHORT STORIES
Poet Introduction
Poet. Dreamer. Hopeless Romantic. Music Lover. Avid Reader. Writer. Mother. Storyteller. Neurotic.
NON-FICTION PROSE
Published
25th Nov 2014 2:04pm
25th Nov 2014 2:04pm
A Writer's Journal: Entry X
Dear Journal,
I don't want to rant about how I can't write, or how I'm suffering from writer's block. I don't want to think about those horrible things, I just want to treat this like an actual journal and pour out my heart and soul into something. Talk to something that doesn't really have to listen, Anne Frank said that paper has more patience than people and I believe that she is right. Well not that this is actually considered paper. . . Considering I'm typing it up on a website for poetry. It's odd, a few years ago I'd feel so awkward sharing my emotions, feelings and personal...
I don't want to rant about how I can't write, or how I'm suffering from writer's block. I don't want to think about those horrible things, I just want to treat this like an actual journal and pour out my heart and soul into something. Talk to something that doesn't really have to listen, Anne Frank said that paper has more patience than people and I believe that she is right. Well not that this is actually considered paper. . . Considering I'm typing it up on a website for poetry. It's odd, a few years ago I'd feel so awkward sharing my emotions, feelings and personal...
841 reads
DARK POEM
Published
25th Nov 2014 1:17pm
25th Nov 2014 1:17pm
Someone I Know (Pint-Sized Poem #43)
What if one day I come here?
This store I visit often, and I see someone that I know.
Their smiles frozen within that moment.
Their face posted on the board.
Of missing children and missing strangers.
If one day, I was to see someone that I know.
Or is "knew" the correct word I should use?
Would their memory haunt me, follow me around like a ghost?
Because I knew them, as a child, a teen or a young adult?
Or will it just roll off my back, another fallen soul.
Lost within the chaos of our monsterous and broken world.
This store I visit often, and I see someone that I know.
Their smiles frozen within that moment.
Their face posted on the board.
Of missing children and missing strangers.
If one day, I was to see someone that I know.
Or is "knew" the correct word I should use?
Would their memory haunt me, follow me around like a ghost?
Because I knew them, as a child, a teen or a young adult?
Or will it just roll off my back, another fallen soul.
Lost within the chaos of our monsterous and broken world.
629 reads
2 Comments
UPBEAT INSPIRATIONAL POEM
Published
24th Nov 2014 7:37am
24th Nov 2014 7:37am
At First Sight
I've been in love before, but nothing as quite like this.
The picture that they gave me, I kept it close those remaining months.
Waiting for the day that we'd finally meet each other, for the first time, face-to-face.
He was a few days late but well worth the wait.
I was tired by time it was over.
Tears streaming down my face.
There was pain and heartache.
But finally he came. . .
And he was so beautiful.
It was love at first sight.
I've been in love before but not quite like this.
This love changed me, stirred something inside of me...
The picture that they gave me, I kept it close those remaining months.
Waiting for the day that we'd finally meet each other, for the first time, face-to-face.
He was a few days late but well worth the wait.
I was tired by time it was over.
Tears streaming down my face.
There was pain and heartache.
But finally he came. . .
And he was so beautiful.
It was love at first sight.
I've been in love before but not quite like this.
This love changed me, stirred something inside of me...
765 reads
2 Comments
SELF POEM
Published
23rd Nov 2014 10:34pm
23rd Nov 2014 10:34pm
Stone Heart
My heart grows cold.
Frozen solid.
It isn't broken.
It's still beating.
It's just grown cold.
Maybe it's dying?
Maybe it's shutting down?
Or maybe it's just grown tired of my failures?
And sick of my useless tears?
And it's finally just abandoning me, like all the rest.
A lifeless mound sitting inside of my chest.
Petrified itself deep inside of my soul.
A lonely heart.
Raw from being walked all over.
From being abused.
It's been through years of torment.
And has...
Frozen solid.
It isn't broken.
It's still beating.
It's just grown cold.
Maybe it's dying?
Maybe it's shutting down?
Or maybe it's just grown tired of my failures?
And sick of my useless tears?
And it's finally just abandoning me, like all the rest.
A lifeless mound sitting inside of my chest.
Petrified itself deep inside of my soul.
A lonely heart.
Raw from being walked all over.
From being abused.
It's been through years of torment.
And has...
670 reads
2 Comments
OBSERVATIONAL POEM
Published
20th Nov 2014 8:34pm
20th Nov 2014 8:34pm
Bird (Pint-Sized Poem #42)
The bird hit the window.
But it didn't die, it lived.
Instead it sang me a song.
And then flew away.
It is the epitome.
Of doing such hard work.
For such a little reward.
Oh, how I wish
I could be more
like that bird.
But it didn't die, it lived.
Instead it sang me a song.
And then flew away.
It is the epitome.
Of doing such hard work.
For such a little reward.
Oh, how I wish
I could be more
like that bird.
762 reads
6 Comments
OBSERVATIONAL POEM
Published
19th Nov 2014 7:23am
19th Nov 2014 7:23am
Childhood Love (Pint-Sized Poem #41)
How easy does a child fall in love?
Follow the leader, chase each other around the shelves.
How easy does a child fall in love?
Laughter and nonsense conversations, such innocent moments.
How easy does a child fall in love?
A day in the library, sitting among the books.
How easy does a child fall in love?
Teaching. Watching. Learning. Talking.
Complete strangers, best friends for only a few minutes.
Childhood logic.
Childhood innocence.
Childhood friendship.
Childhood love.
Sweet and innocent.
Chasing each...
Follow the leader, chase each other around the shelves.
How easy does a child fall in love?
Laughter and nonsense conversations, such innocent moments.
How easy does a child fall in love?
A day in the library, sitting among the books.
How easy does a child fall in love?
Teaching. Watching. Learning. Talking.
Complete strangers, best friends for only a few minutes.
Childhood logic.
Childhood innocence.
Childhood friendship.
Childhood love.
Sweet and innocent.
Chasing each...
839 reads
2 Comments
MISCELLANEOUS POEM
Published
17th Nov 2014 9:28am
17th Nov 2014 9:28am
Desperate (Pint-Sized Poem #40)
I hurt myself to feel something.
I break my heart to remind myself it's beating.
I cry so I may taste my own personal sorrows.
I sold my soul to the devil just to see if God was real.
I lost my mind just so I have a reason to be as stupid as I am.
I argue with my family just so they'll listen.
I sit with people that ignore me just so I feel I'm not alone.
I enter competitions just so I have a reason to write something down.
I want love--
I want talent--
I want attention--
I want intelligence--
I want to be famous-- ...
I break my heart to remind myself it's beating.
I cry so I may taste my own personal sorrows.
I sold my soul to the devil just to see if God was real.
I lost my mind just so I have a reason to be as stupid as I am.
I argue with my family just so they'll listen.
I sit with people that ignore me just so I feel I'm not alone.
I enter competitions just so I have a reason to write something down.
I want love--
I want talent--
I want attention--
I want intelligence--
I want to be famous-- ...
679 reads
1 Comment
LOVE POEM
Published
15th Nov 2014 5:49am
15th Nov 2014 5:49am
Adam
He was a junior.
I was a freshman.
He was a bass.
I was an alto, sometimes a soprano.
He was a football player.
And on the debate team.
And he played Conrad in the musical.
I was a wallflower.
I blended into the background.
And wrote poems and stories in the back of the room.
He had two girlfriends that year.
Jessica & Sabrina.
One was younger than him by a year.
The other was his age.
He had a black hair.
And hazel, brown eyes.
And he was so tall, six foot something.
But I was never completely sure....
I was a freshman.
He was a bass.
I was an alto, sometimes a soprano.
He was a football player.
And on the debate team.
And he played Conrad in the musical.
I was a wallflower.
I blended into the background.
And wrote poems and stories in the back of the room.
He had two girlfriends that year.
Jessica & Sabrina.
One was younger than him by a year.
The other was his age.
He had a black hair.
And hazel, brown eyes.
And he was so tall, six foot something.
But I was never completely sure....
#teens
#school
#confessional #UnrequitedLove
#confessional #UnrequitedLove
854 reads
4 Comments
OBSERVATIONAL POEM
Published
15th Nov 2014 4:47am
15th Nov 2014 4:47am
11/14/14 (Pint-Sized Poem #39)
I watched a bug crawl up a curtain today.
It made it all the way to the top--
And then it flew away.
It made it all the way to the top--
And then it flew away.
613 reads
4 Comments
SELF POEM
Published
9th Nov 2014 7:24am
9th Nov 2014 7:24am
"Inspire"
#Inspire"
That's what the necklace read.
Pretty font.
Silver chain.
Sitting on a Wal-Mart shelf.
I wanted it.
And I almost took it.
But my strong will told me: "No".
So I let it go.
But still, I can't help but think about it.
How much I wish I felt inspired.
Inspired to write something.
One of the many lives swirling around inside of my mind.
I wish that something could inspire me.
The songs on my iPod make me jealous--
So do the novels sitting unread, on my shelves.
The library books...
That's what the necklace read.
Pretty font.
Silver chain.
Sitting on a Wal-Mart shelf.
I wanted it.
And I almost took it.
But my strong will told me: "No".
So I let it go.
But still, I can't help but think about it.
How much I wish I felt inspired.
Inspired to write something.
One of the many lives swirling around inside of my mind.
I wish that something could inspire me.
The songs on my iPod make me jealous--
So do the novels sitting unread, on my shelves.
The library books...
702 reads
6 Comments
OBSERVATIONAL POEM
Published
8th Nov 2014 10:37pm
8th Nov 2014 10:37pm
Old News
I visit this store often.
And every day, it seems, there are new faces.
Of those that have gone missing.
Where did the last ones go?
Or the ones before that?
This isn't a video game, the board doesn't refresh.
So what happens to those that were missing a week ago?
Were they only given a short window to be found.
And then their picture is taken down, someone new has gone missing.
And the picture will be placed on the Missing Persons board?
Every time I visit this store.
And I see the pictures of children, teens and adults.
Gone...
And every day, it seems, there are new faces.
Of those that have gone missing.
Where did the last ones go?
Or the ones before that?
This isn't a video game, the board doesn't refresh.
So what happens to those that were missing a week ago?
Were they only given a short window to be found.
And then their picture is taken down, someone new has gone missing.
And the picture will be placed on the Missing Persons board?
Every time I visit this store.
And I see the pictures of children, teens and adults.
Gone...
758 reads
2 Comments
NON-FICTION PROSE
Published
8th Nov 2014 4:31am
8th Nov 2014 4:31am
A Writer's Journal: Entry IX
The words just won't come to me. . .
There's a story somewhere inside of my mind, but it's just not coming to me. The characters are there and so are their lives but I keep thinking too hard about it and looking too far into it. And before I know it, I have a playlist of songs narrating the character's entire life but I have no words written down, nothing written in that same character's voice.
And I don't know what's wrong with me at this point in my writing career. The stories are there and the narration is easy but the starting point is boring, the exciting part is more...
There's a story somewhere inside of my mind, but it's just not coming to me. The characters are there and so are their lives but I keep thinking too hard about it and looking too far into it. And before I know it, I have a playlist of songs narrating the character's entire life but I have no words written down, nothing written in that same character's voice.
And I don't know what's wrong with me at this point in my writing career. The stories are there and the narration is easy but the starting point is boring, the exciting part is more...
665 reads
DU Poetry : Submissions by Page_Writer (Mad Girl)
