I got a little black book with my poems in...

black as a funeral robe,
my thoughts wander,
upon my desolate scape,
infertile, needing rain.
dreams of violence,
dream's release,
dreams rife with ridding
myself of pain.
what a pity this.
a promising brain.
never to be thought of,
or asked to stay.
Never asked, nor told,
no answer unfolds,
no belief, cannot pray,
no light beyond day.

black as the thoughts,
of love that I miss,
bright are my hopes that
are dashed with a kiss.
so I wander, adrift,
I perpetuate the rift,
between body and mind,
action and gift.

A bit more training and you guys will be writing like Waters.

Cho.manno, probably not for a while!!!

Ive got one or two more to add that I wrote recently, but I don't know them well enough to real off...so I'll have to wait until I've got it in front of me to post here.

You got any more Seamus???

Driven, Im working on one as we speak actually. I've ran out of writing time recently but I still try.

-Animate Steel-

i recall the score was five
when i heard my mother cry
bottoms fell out in the sky's above
as crosses of steel made holes in the dry

down through the pines and needle twigs
to a stream of blue with no bridge to walk
diving across waters to make my way home
as the war fled foward like a wall of stone

====
this is as far as ive gotten on it. much Final Cut inspirations. i'll post the entire piece when its ready. later.

Sounding good Seamus.

I still don't have my new ones with me. I might write something tonight 'cause I had some seriously freaky dreams last night that need writing about.

Ok, here it is. It's probably a bit too bizarre to turn into a song, but I had to get it down on paper.

-----------------------

FEAR FROM AN ALIEN YEAR

I thought I was watching TV,
A rather disturbing scene with a man in a field,
His eaten out body and still talking head,
Being sought by a Lovely Lady,
Rather disturbing indeed!

As is the nature of Dreams,
There I was dancing in days that seem long before these,
Meeting a man who would give me his girl,
Was she my new wife to be?
As is the nature of dreams.

Something not right around here,
Girl knows my face but I don't know this place or the year,
Who is this girl that now says she's my wife?
And why am I holding her dear?
Starting to choke on the fear.

Dreaming more regular dreams,
Happier now to be dreaming familiar scenes,
Wife reappears and she's holding a head,
My God I believe it is me!
I WAS THE MAN IN THE FIELD!!!

Dream after dream it repeats,
Day to day issues then she reappears with her hate,
Got to wake up or get rid of this thing,
But a quiet voice tells me it's fate,
How did I get to this place?

Finally woke from the fear,
Shaken by tears that appeared from an alien year,
Fading away can't remember much now,
It doesn't seem nearly as NEAR,
'Til next time that she reappears...

Very powerful, Driven. It doesn't matter whether or not it will ever become a song. The act of sharing it is important in and of itself.

Thank you.

Oh that one was quite easy to share. It's just about a VERY disturbing dream. Some of the others I've put on here were more personal...but everyone has put some pretty personal stuff down here. It's quite impressive actually.

Thanks for the kind words though.

Pink Freud...I just read yours a lot more closely, and I think I know exactly what you're talking about. Nicely written.

Keep 'em coming.

Hell yeah you guys! Keep em' coming! Im in a band now so I havent had time to write but I'll have some new stuff soon. Later.

another night, another failure,
of the common sense of man,
I've been drinking like a sailor,
on his last night on dry land.
My mind is in the ditch, my body starts to twitch,
Already struck out twice before the bowler could even pitch.

another night, another failure,
I've failed myself again,
Too slow to act, too quick to fold,
Too f***ed up to fit in...
I've had too much again, I'm being laughed at by my friends,
Too many lonely nights at home waiting for this f***ed up world to end.

Maybe I shouldn't drink,
Maybe I shouldn't stone,
Maybe I'm not real,
Maybe I'm alone,
Maybe I wear an iron mask,
With a usurper on my throne.
Or maybe I was born to die,
With vital seeds unsown.

another night, my life goes by,
As my Gods make other plans,
And I'm writing like a leper,
Who's about to lose his hands,
Although I'm feeling down, I'm still acting like a clown,
No-one seeing me would realize, my inner self makes not a sound.

Holy shit...I'm not blowing sunshine up your arse here dude...I understood every bloody word of that...I've felt that way many times myself. Unfortunatley when I write about it I'm usually still pissed so it ends up sounding stupid.

I have a strong feeling that I wrote something similar a year or two ago...I'll have to go digging through my real "little black book" to find it.

You remind me of an angel
Throwing down your wings in anger to god
Feeling deciet and andvantaged again
Like you never had ground to stand on.
------
I wrote this the other night after I saw this girl I know crying over someone who hurt her feelings. I felt inspired and decided to use her for a poem. Turned out short and sweet, just like her.

-no title-
I slit my wrists to the rhythm of angels blowing the trumpets of time in sequence. Snakes of steel make tunnels in the dirt as the tears of prophets left mud where they stood. The blood of martyrs ran cold down empty streets where shadows hide from view. My hands shivered as I watched the sky bleed while deities fell helpless on this soil of never ending dispair. But this will pass.