Monsters
A kid looked around his room
And below his bed
To find the monster like they said
He searched all over
Fortunately couldn't find them
He grew up
Now he didn't check his room or bed
He know where it is
He know the humans are the monsters
Contemplative poems
Contemplative poems — a collection of the best works on PoemShip.
A Freak of Nature
A freak of nature lies on a bed of soft snow
The air is still
The world is quiet
The sky is clear
The stars look down upon this freak of nature
A million eyes gaze kindly on this twisted form
There is no judgment in this night
It is beautiful
In the morning
There will be no trace left
No one will know this freak of nature was here at all
But for now it rests sweetly and all is right
Being
Being young and queer is...
As romantic
As it is upsetting
There is a struggle,
One which really only I can understand
It feels romantic
To be who I am
To be young and to be queer
I am something unique
Something truly special
Romantic like a rare gemstone in a ring
It feels upsetting
To be how I am
Young and queer and deep in hiding
I am something that must be kept hidden
To protect myself
Haikus
Bright, yet beautiful
Light fills the room with a glow,
Almost like Heaven.
Autumn shaded leaves
Fall gracefully to the ground,
Lighter than laughter.
The constant burn of
The sun, lingers on your skin
More stable than love.
A winter wind blows
Snow, across a field of black
Like our differences.
A hard rain falls down,
Causing a pool to ripple
Like problems we face.
Poised, and elegant
Water
Whenever i see you cry,
I'm reminded that a bit too much of something is not good for you.
I'm reminded of waves, and how, like people
they have the ability to bring joy
and also cause pain.
I'm reminded that even on it's bad days,
the ocean, together with cliffs
continues to be a great conductor
of the only sound that keeps me sane.
I'm reminded that the only difference
between tears and waterfalls,
is what causes the water to fall down.
Cactus
2 years,
That's how long i can go without love.
Thanks to my heart,
my lungs and rib cages,
serving as protective layers,
I'm able to store
the love i received from my previous relationships
For whenever I need it.
Relationships
All these songs
They only sing,
about what's its like
To love someone,
or the breakups
But none really hit
The one spot in the middle
Which is the most important-
-the during
It sets the mood,
decides your future
Without it...
there's no me and you
Fluid
I look at the scenery on the bus everyday
It's the same trees
The same grass
The same guardrails and sheep out in the paddock
But today I looked up
For the first time ever I looked up,
and instead of watching the repeated landscape
I saw beautiful clouds
Changing and moving
And I felt peace
Friend
Dictionaries are books of revelation.
You never knew what words really meant
You took them for granted
You assumed
You had always thought so
You thought that’s what people meant
Until told otherwise by the dictionary.
Shall we look up the word, ‘friend’?
The word, in my hitherto life I have used
So wantonly.
I assumed it meant what I thought I felt
For certain individuals I liked more than others.
Certain individuals who were in my thoughts
More often than not.
Those for whom I felt affection
Those for whom I ached
From nowhere to eternity
Life is a continuum
Extending
from a nanosecond to trillions of millenniums
from a bacterium to bacteria
from a star to a black hole...
In between, you and me, my dear
we weave our lives from eon to eon
how naive
to think our love is eternal!
how ephemeral are our lives,
our loves
when just beyond our fingertips
the void waits to take us back-
you, cosmic dust!
The leftover
Do not look
to the future.
It needn't necessarily come.
The present is now,
whether you like it or not.
Disbelieve what smart people tell you
Past is the only truth.
The past is yours, yours alone,
Undeniably, unchangeably,
Indelible, burned onto your brain,
Scarring it forever.
On a summer morning
Shake it all down on a mat,
Lay it on the sun,
Warming,
Watch it turn brittle,
New Year Eve
Once again, at the gates of another year.
In this endless desert
The New Year sits like a façade,
A prop
On the other side of which
The endless desert continues.
We will go through the rituals
Of living, loving, playing and crying
Bringing and burying lives-
The perfunctory calls and messages
‘Happy New Year’-
We will go on with the play-acting,
Feigning interests new
Bidding farewells to old.
We conjure up illusions of oases
When all around the desert spreads.
Describe a feeling — we’ll find a poem
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