My collection of works
 

I thought that instead of creating a thread for each piece of work I produce I would just post them all in one and add to them whenever I have something to add.

This first poem is called Promotion. Its a poem for everybody about what happens when youre alone, with people or a mix of these so it applies to each of these situations.


PROMOTION

Silence promotes the lone
why do we sit here waiting for the phone.
To ring its shrill sound
and bring our life back around.

Noise promotes the happy side
like the seas restless tide.
We laugh until we cry
its so good to try.

A mix of these promotes good feelings
and you may be good with lifes dealings.
But whatever you get,
try, try, try to make lifes requirements met.


Please feel free to comment, I'm open to any criticisms or thoughts you may have.

Actually I read this poem three times. First just to enjoy it and again to give you a comment but then I got a little confused so when I read it the third time I discovered it's actually quite lovely when the reader unvails it in all it's meanings.

I really like the tone you used in this line, " try, try, try to make lifes requirements met." the poem is really brief though. This poem seems really tranquil to me and if that's what you were going for then it's great. If you were looking for more of a different mood then go more in depth with the silence and the noise. I think the message is good enough for a bigger base.

Well thank goodness I wasn't going for the latter then... ;)

Umm Im probably gona upload another one very soon so keep your eyes out on this space fans (yea, right)

Sitting here all day long,
making holes in the chair.
What is the point?
Dreams and memories shattered by a tear.

This sullen disease shall sit,
wandering the minds and not giving in.
What is the point?
The whole concept, idea and reality is a sin.

Why no cure for these poor beings,
who have to sit and forget.
What is the point?
Why can't their old memories be re-met.

A terrible crime is commited,
when this sick vile thing hits.
What is the point?
Infecting the minds, this vulgar thing sits.



Note: First verse - tear as in rip.