This one is a song...

Hot Potato!

You feel the ache in different places,
Your fingerprints have disappeared,
Leaving you with ten blank padded spaces.
You’re waiting for the winter wind,
To cool the burn and dull the smart,
You’ve got enduring futile pain,
Down to a pretty, patient art.

Like feet that can’t escape the scalding sand,
You can’t drop this hot potato,
That’s burning in your hand.
Hot potato! Hot potato!

You’ve got but one potato,
To last you all your life,
Drop this hot potato,
And you’ll face hunger with a knife.
In seven days the hunger pains
Will make that blade look mighty nice,
Nice enough to slip beneath your veins...
To meet your hot potato in the afterlife.

Like feet that can’t escape the scalding sand,
You can’t drop this hot potato,
That’s burning in your hand.
Hot potato! Hot potato!

PLEASE tell me what you think of this one, is it too cliche?

Here's to...
Here's to the night the jealousy died,
Here's to the night that I didn't try,
Here's to the day you spent with me,
Naming every car for as far,
As your eyes could see,
Here's to the night that you felt bad,
But you never knew that you,
Could never make me mad.
Here's to the night in the crowd,
Here's to the things I could say out loud,
To the song that everyone missed,
To the shoulder I secretly kissed,
Here's to the arm you extended to me,
Here's to the harm you hadn't intended for me,
Here's to the moment that I was scared,
Here's to the moment I knew you cared,
Here's to the night on the climbing wall,
Here's to the night in the dining hall,
When we didn't care,
About anything at all.
Here's to the soy milk you never drank,
Here's to the God's I have to thank,
That you flew in on an aeroplane,
And you understood that I was in pain.
Here's to the evening of stars,
That I wasted on you,
Here's to the deepening of scars,
From what I tasted of you.
Here's to the view from beyond,
And here's to you,
May you know when I'm gone.

Blankets
Every night I seek the warmth
Of a blanket and a sheet,
But it's my instincts that reject them,
And come morning, they're crumpled at my feet.
I"m far too ashamed to admit,
That I dreamed of something as futile as you,
That I fished for something as shallow as that,
That pretty face I wanted reflected in you.
It's easier to hide the shallow, surface pain,
But in the blinding light of your epic eyes,
My clothes and blankets turn to cellophane
And I cry as I try to disguise,
My beautiful dreams were dreamt in vain.

Sport

Jennie and Katie, Shannon and Hannah,
Don’t breathe until you stick it.
Kirsten and Kayla, and Anna Banana,
That tuck is your ticket,
On a plane to Atlanta.
All you big-dream drama queens,
Just want to be the best,
Velvet feels softer on an empty stomach,
Sequins shine brighter on a skeletal chest.
Everything is turning,
Pretty blue and black,
And all the while you’re trying,
To keep your smile intact.
Harden every fibre in your being,
Give them nothing to subtract.
This is for all the American girls,
Whose scalps have been assaulted,
For amber waves and golden curls.
For purple bruises’ majesties,
Strawberry fields between their legs,
That came from balancing tragedies,
On ridgepoles like chicken eggs
When you lose the coveted control
Which way will you roll?

i know nobody has been posting alot but i assure you you are an AWESOME writer. your poems inspire me! lol. keep it up. i look forward to more.

Here's a quick little Haiku

17 syllables of DEATH!

Everybody's got,
A place in the sky,
Cause heaven ain't just for men.

Wow, thanks Phora!

Heres another one, take it in what sense thou wilt, it's far less explicit than anything else I've written.

Water/-/ Like Abstraction

Metaphors sit together in the shade on my front lawn,
New green grass between their soft, ghost-white toes
Means that winter always ends and life will carry on.

My allegories of the fringe verify that you and I,
Like sweet, sobbing wave and strong, stoic face,
Will always run the same and never die.

A sorry, salty river circles in perpetual rhyme,
It forgets the drop and denies the gravity,
Rinsing and repeating, and falling for it every time.

The real heart in me is a plain gray, stony basin
That only fills its loving, soothing purpose
When filled with rain from the fount of inspiration.

And though you are my righteous independent spigot,
There would be the deepest well of cool clear water
If your shotgun eyes would only let me dig it.

omg. These are so good and deep. Plez continue to write more.

It Never Fails
I made a promise that I thought I'd keep,
When all my gladness came in blissfull sleep,
No matter how cold aching day may seem,
I'd nurture all the longings of the deep.

So now I've given up on my last dream,
Just like that time when I fell of the beam,
All this is just another striking end,
Of two more years I'd never really seen.

I've past this running river's bitter bend
And life will be so pretty once again,
Oh I can hardly wait until we're friends,
So you just wait, I'm gonna be your friend.

Seventeen Syllables of DEATH
Stop looking at me!
I swear- I don't need a dad!
I'll- I'll be just fine.