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?