The Poetry Era

Ok, so Mr. Carter got to me. I am now a poet. This year has changed me so much.


I WANT A MAN

I want a man
who understands
my plan
for a better life
without worry or strife

I want a man
who tells me
that beauty
is about more than
the clothes I wear
or what I do with my hair

I want a man
who sees
how easy I am to please
who just wants to make me happy
especially when I feel crappy

I want a man
not a boy
who thinks girls are a toy
to be used and abused
a notch on the bedpost
a contest to see
who can get the most

I want a man
who respects me
and let me be whatever I wanna be
who tells me I can achieve that dream
however hard it might seem

I want a man
not a bro
who thinks life is so
easy and plays immature games
to earn that "bad boy" fame

I want more
more than cheap lust
and sly glances at my bust
I want someone I can trust
to stay true
and make life feel new

I want an Irish man
a Scottish man an English man
a foreign man an exotic man
an artistic man a linguistic man
a band man a music man
a sensitive man a man's man
I want a man

I want so much more
But is that too much to ask for?

Unfinished Poetry

Just some of the "poems" I've written in Writer's Workshop. None of them are really finished. Except for Princess and Intriguing.

Portrait of an Artist as a Young Girl on the Brink of Womanhood

I love theater
and yet I am manipulated into taking calculus.

I need freedom
and yet I am locked in this jail cell.

I want to dance
and yet I am forced to sit in this chair,
at this desk,
in this room.

Love, passion, freedom, joy
are all under my skin
desperate to be released,
bursting forth into
song and dance, art and poetry.

Please!
Let me grow,
Let me leave,
Let me fly.


I

I want
I feel
I desire
I need

I am young
I am human

I am free


Princess

When you see me I look happy,
incandesantly so,
brimming with blissful joy.

I'm posing for the picture,
my best "I'm cute" smile
stretched across my face.

In my hands I hold
the ribbon of my gown,
the princess attire I so often donned,
the tiara resting on my pretty golden locks.

Because all princesses wear fancy gowns
and sparkling tiaras
and have golden hair.

And I am a princess.


Break of Day

I glare blearily ath the
red, angry numbers, not
wanting to believe
my time in th
beautiful land of sleep
is over, that I have to
roll out of bed,
my ruffled hair out
of control. I go into
the bathroom and
splash water on my
weary face in a desperate
attempt to wake up.


Intriguing

Short and stocky,
muscular and strong,
he gives off the air
of not giving a damn.
his big baby eyes
and freckles add to the
dichotomy; he seems dark
and dangerous when really
he's deep and
sensitive; seeing, feeling,
sensing more than he
really shows. I watch
him, his face immobile
and unemotional as his
words are read to life
off the page; he's not
scared to show his
sensitivity but I wouldn't
have known about it
without hearing his words.
with him, watching
isn't enough.


Let Us Go Then

Let us go then, you and I,
Back to the land of dreams.
It's better here, the real world passing by
Not leaving its stains of sadness and pain.

It may not be real here
In this land of dreams
But no one will hurt you, you won't shed a tear.
Disappointment and hypocracy can't exisit
In a world that is made, clear
and clean, just as you like.

Let us go then, you and I,
Back to whatever truth
We want to believe.


Hypocrite

Hypocracy:
the hated word
Saying without doing
Preaching without believing

It makes me want to hurl
watching you, seeing you
say what you say
and then do what you do

Whatever happened to Truth
Honesty
Character?

Dream #8: Narina via Microwave

This is the only part of this dream that I remember clearly. There's some other part about a pool and evil villain, but I don't really know what happened with that.

I became friends with a man who had written this other world into existance and there was a passageway to that world that only he knew about. And since he had created the world, he could get whatever he wanted from it. We got really close and he gave me the same powers and then showed me the passageway. It was in his microwave. His story was about wolf packs and wolf-men, but the world changed to be whatever I wanted when I climbed into the microwave and traveled to it.

So there I was, at a photoshoot for the new Vampire TV show that I was a cast member in. But I was wearing a purple flapper dress, and ugly shoes and was just all together not prepared. So I sneaked out and went to the microwave. I climbed in, but before I could pull my leg in all the way, one of my castmates came over and asked what I was doing. I replid, "Oh, nothing." And he left. So I forced my leg all the way in and found myself in a salon with my very own stylist. He found me a wonderful black dress, some fantastic red heels, and did my hair and makeup. I looked hot. So I climbed back out of the microwave, no time having passed at all, and went back to the photoshoot, where I felt much more ready for the cameras.

The end.