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One of the ancients,once said that poetry is "the mirror of the perfect soul." Instead of simply writing down travel notes or, not really thinking about the consequences, expressing your thoughts, memories or on paper, the poetic soul needs to seriously work hard to clothe the perfect content in an even more perfect poetic form.
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What is poetry?


Reading books RomanceThe unity of form and content is what distinguishes poetry from other areas of creativity. However, this is precisely what titanic work implies.
Not every citizen can become a poet. If almost every one of us, at different times, under the influence of certain reasons or trends, was engaged in writing his thoughts, then it is unlikely that the vast majority will be able to admit to themselves that they are a poet.
Genre of poetry touches such strings in the human soul, the existence of which a person either didn’t suspect, or lowered them to the very bottom, intending to give them delight.


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Read books online » Poetry » The Earth still spins by BriBri . (novel books to read .txt) 📖

Book online «The Earth still spins by BriBri . (novel books to read .txt) 📖». Author BriBri .



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Jack of All Trades

 I can tell you about cell membranes,

But i don't know the details.

I know about the short-term 

Causes of World War II, but i can't 

Remember their names or dates.

I can tell that water Is the universal solvent,

But i can't explain exactly how it works.

I know how to play an instrument,

And how to learn a few more,

But i can't tune a damn major chord.

By God, i can find the slope of a curve.

If I'm lucky.

Now i'm trying to write poetry,

But it isn't like Seamus Heaney's.

 

I know the tricks of each trade,

An overview of each lass.

But an expert? Please..

I just want to pass.

It's not that i'm stupid,

I'm acutally quite smart.

But a jack of all trades

Know only a handful of each art.

Not one day

 Not one day had gone by

Where i didn't stare at my knife.

It's sharp teeth a sad comfort,

A quick way to leave this earth.

But those teeth never bit too hard,

Only enough to leave some scars.

I'm still alive, my heart beats srong.

Not one day goes by that i wonder if i was wrong.

Black soul

 Black eyes. Black soul.

Haunting the in thy sleep.

Awaken thee with the stench

Of an unclensed soul. However,

Over thine unclensed soul

Be a sheet of white.

Thy pale form approaching

Be not whom it appears to be.

Simple Rhyme

 There's a darkness that surround me,

A newfound hatred that i can't see.

It swallows down the sunlight

That used to shine so bright.

 

It may be a simple rhyme,

That took so little of my time,

But there's nothing better i can do

In the darkness that i can't see through.

Jared, Misha, Jensen.

 Deep, amber eyes brun through

Mine. My soul is heating,

The pressure melting black

Into precious diamonds.

I am not worth it.

I look away and find

Myself looking into a sea

Of blue. They swallow me

Whole, surrounding and

Clensing my soul.

I'm drowning.

I look away again, finding 

Another sea, a sea of green.

Those emerald eyes bore through me,

Shining bright inside of me.

I hate what i see.

I look down at my hands

In my lap. "Leave me alone,"

I tell each one, yet

Their eyes still graze over 

Me, searching. "Please don't do 

This to yourself, sweetheart."

I snap. 

I ran away from them.

They're too amazing, too perfect,

Too beautiful for me

I am not worth it.

I'm drowning.

I hate what i see.

I look into my carbon soul,

Dirty, disgusting soul,

And find that i can't see.

I cry.

Imprint

Publication Date: 08-24-2012

All Rights Reserved

Dedication:
I dedicate this to my friends and family, whom have helped me with (or caused) the emotions i faced in order to write these works.

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