The Time You Have (In JellyBeans)

Dream

Sleep is a place
Where you can dream about the things that you could be
But isn't yours yet
Even if isn't
You can still close your eyes
And dream
You could be sitting in a tree
With darkness washing over you
As you count the stars
Or your feet could feel the soft grass beneath you
Right before you jump
And not fall
You let your silvery wings be free
And open wide so you can fly
If you search for these with your eyes open
You won't find them
And I'm not going to lie to you
And say that you will always find your dreams
Because that's all they are
Dreams
You may be young
But your not that naive
It may feel so right
As you stretch your wings
And let the others be powerless for once
But that's what makes you want to fly
The knowledge that your the one
The one who is able to let the wind carry you away
Into the night
But even though I know that's not the way it is
I still fall asleep
And let the river take me down
It's every turn
Hope has four letters
And dream has five
Because the truth is
When you close your eyes
That's what makes you feel so alive

-Apple

Mistake

Fourteen years ago I was born
The eleventh child
To a full family
Who didn't wish to stop
Then there was me
No one ever told me being different
Ruins your life
The slightest change in your looks
Could change your future
I was unwanted
And I kept being
Tortured
And harassed
If you asked me
What do you remember
Pain
So much pain
The searing metal against my skin
Why did it happen to her
I was the poor girl who was isolated from the world
To me
That was just how life was
And I was the mistake
Even with my brothers and sisters around
I felt alone
I ran away at age five
A year later I changed my name
And hid from my past
Never looking back
I made a friend
A true friend
I even told her everything
About my past
And how it felt
She wasn't a true friend
And that's when I earned my nickname
Unwanted
And even now
I am haunted by it

Even though she didn't know
She was not the only one with a tough life
And a painful past
She was not alone
She only gave her friend the name
Because she had one too
Death
For it seemed to follow her wherever she'd go
She was four years old
When her brother died
Then her mother
And she was left to live with him
Him
Her father
The only thing she could think was
Why me
What did I ever do to deserve this
There is no God
For he couldn't have done this to me
At age seven she too ran away
A lifetime later she was a teen
And the two of us met
We stared into each others eyes and saw each other in them
We mirrored each other
In our pain
We were forgotten by many
For who would care about us
We soon grew apart
Trying to be the best
Because being lonely with people
Was better than being alone
By yourself
And even now
We are enemies
Even though we are like twins
With the same sad past
And open future

He
Was born to the wrong family
Who never wanted him
Yet he was there
And before he could even remember what was happening
They left him on the streets to die
Adopted by a loving family
Who hated him for being different
And never told him the truth
That he wasn't theirs
But still
He worked
And he cried when he looked at himself
Because he was different
And he didn't know why

The three of us met her
A girl who ran away
Because there was no more tears left to fill her dry eyes
Her red hair had been cut and pulled
And her heart torn
No one knew how she was still alive
But her face made everyone remember
Just barely
When she was young she grabbed a gun and tried to shoot herself
But all it lead to was a long talk
Why did you do it
No one cares
I care
Really
No, get over it
Her life was put in repeat
Until her blood drenched the ground
But people had the guts to help her
Even though she begged them to let her die
And get her way for once

But you see
No one cared
Because they had their own problems
The same thing was happening to them
Everyone
The popular kids surround by fake friends
Who were too busy agreeing with them
To hear what they were actually saying
Or the ones in the center of the room that no one sees
Until they just fade away

We all grew up the same
The four of us
And we all met up
There are people just like us
People who others pay to see
So they can laugh and be glad they aren't like that
The tent welcomes people
Freaks
Sideshow acts
With no where else to go
But they didn't meet up there to join
Instead they all thought to themselves
Why was it us
We were not chosen
Not that we know
We are just normal
We are normal
But people just choose to pick on us
Because they are glad that even though
They are like us
They aren't in our shoes

And they aren't alone
The four of them
Everyone feels that way inside
Like no one cares
Or no one listens
Because they don't
They're too busy with their own problems
Because that's just how the world is
We laugh at people
Because we don't want to have to be them
We don't want to be
A mistake

-Apple

Boredom

Have you ever sat on your bed
And just stared at the wall
Thinking
I should be doing something
I'm just wasting my time doing nothing
But you don't stop
Because even though you want to
You have nothing to do
Even though you have a pile of papers
And a messy room
And a cranky mother
You think there is nothing to do
You could ride your bike
Or take a hike
You could cook some chow
Or milk a cow
But you seem to have nothing to do
And no matter how hard you try
You just can't say goodbye
To the wall in front of you
It's not your fault
It's not you
Just blame boredom
Blame the creature inside if the fog
The fog that seems to follow you
When it's there
You don't want to go anywhere
Not the zoo
Nor Ikamazoo
There is no way to stop boredom
It just finds you
And forces you to stare at that wall
That blank wall with nothing on it
Nothing to interest you
Yet still you stare
You can't fight it
So why not join it
I know boredom is boring
With nothing ever to do
But to me that seems better
Than everything to do
And no time to do it
Just don't waste away
And become like boredom yourself
That's how he started
Just staring at the wall

-Apple

The Highwayman Video

The Highwayman

The wind was a torrent of darkness among the gusty trees.   

The moon was a ghostly galleon tossed upon cloudy seas.   

The road was a ribbon of moonlight over the purple moor,   

And the highwayman came riding—

         Riding—riding—

The highwayman came riding, up to the old inn-door.

He’d a French cocked-hat on his forehead, a bunch of lace at his chin,   

A coat of the claret velvet, and breeches of brown doe-skin.

They fitted with never a wrinkle. His boots were up to the thigh.   

And he rode with a jewelled twinkle,

         His pistol butts a-twinkle,

His rapier hilt a-twinkle, under the jewelled sky.

Over the cobbles he clattered and clashed in the dark inn-yard.

He tapped with his whip on the shutters, but all was locked and barred.   

He whistled a tune to the window, and who should be waiting there   

But the landlord’s black-eyed daughter,

         Bess, the landlord’s daughter,

Plaiting a dark red love-knot into her long black hair.

And dark in the dark old inn-yard a stable-wicket creaked

Where Tim the ostler listened. His face was white and peaked.   

His eyes were hollows of madness, his hair like mouldy hay,   

But he loved the landlord’s daughter,

         The landlord’s red-lipped daughter.

Dumb as a dog he listened, and he heard the robber say—

“One kiss, my bonny sweetheart, I’m after a prize to-night,

But I shall be back with the yellow gold before the morning light;

Yet, if they press me sharply, and harry me through the day,   

Then look for me by moonlight,

         Watch for me by moonlight,

I’ll come to thee by moonlight, though hell should bar the way.”

He rose upright in the stirrups. He scarce could reach her hand,

But she loosened her hair in the casement. His face burnt like a brand

As the black cascade of perfume came tumbling over his breast;   

And he kissed its waves in the moonlight,

         (O, sweet black waves in the moonlight!)

Then he tugged at his rein in the moonlight, and galloped away to the west.

PART TWO

He did not come in the dawning. He did not come at noon;   

And out of the tawny sunset, before the rise of the moon,   

When the road was a gypsy’s ribbon, looping the purple moor,   

A red-coat troop came marching—

         Marching—marching—

King George’s men came marching, up to the old inn-door.

They said no word to the landlord. They drank his ale instead.   

But they gagged his daughter, and bound her, to the foot of her narrow bed.

Two of them knelt at her casement, with muskets at their side!   

There was death at every window;

         And hell at one dark window;

For Bess could see, through her casement, the road that he would ride.

They had tied her up to attention, with many a sniggering jest.

They had bound a musket beside her, with the muzzle beneath her breast!

“Now, keep good watch!” and they kissed her. She heard the doomed man say—

Look for me by moonlight;

         Watch for me by moonlight;

I’ll come to thee by moonlight, though hell should bar the way!

She twisted her hands behind her; but all the knots held good!

She writhed her hands till her fingers were wet with sweat or blood!   

They stretched and strained in the darkness, and the hours crawled by like years

Till, now, on the stroke of midnight,

         Cold, on the stroke of midnight,

The tip of one finger touched it! The trigger at least was hers!

The tip of one finger touched it. She strove no more for the rest.   

Up, she stood up to attention, with the muzzle beneath her breast.   

She would not risk their hearing; she would not strive again;   

For the road lay bare in the moonlight;

         Blank and bare in the moonlight;

And the blood of her veins, in the moonlight, throbbed to her love’s refrain.

Tlot-tlot; tlot-tlot! Had they heard it? The horsehoofs ringing clear;   

Tlot-tlot; tlot-tlot, in the distance? Were they deaf that they did not hear?

Down the ribbon of moonlight, over the brow of the hill,

The highwayman came riding—

         Riding—riding—

The red coats looked to their priming! She stood up, straight and still.

Tlot-tlot, in the frosty silence! Tlot-tlot, in the echoing night!   

Nearer he came and nearer. Her face was like a light.

Her eyes grew wide for a moment; she drew one last deep breath,   

Then her finger moved in the moonlight,

         Her musket shattered the moonlight,

Shattered her breast in the moonlight and warned him—with her death.

He turned. He spurred to the west; he did not know who stood   

Bowed, with her head o’er the musket, drenched with her own blood!   

Not till the dawn he heard it, and his face grew grey to hear   

How Bess, the landlord’s daughter,

         The landlord’s black-eyed daughter,

Had watched for her love in the moonlight, and died in the darkness there.

Back, he spurred like a madman, shouting a curse to the sky,

With the white road smoking behind him and his rapier brandished high.

Blood red were his spurs in the golden noon; wine-red was his velvet coat;

When they shot him down on the highway,

         Down like a dog on the highway,

And he lay in his blood on the highway, with a bunch of lace at his throat.

.       .       .

And still of a winter’s night, they say, when the wind is in the trees,

When the moon is a ghostly galleon tossed upon cloudy seas,   

When the road is a ribbon of moonlight over the purple moor,   

A highwayman comes riding—

         Riding—riding—

A highwayman comes riding, up to the old inn-door.

Over the cobbles he clatters and clangs in the dark inn-yard.

He taps with his whip on the shutters, but all is locked and barred.   

He whistles a tune to the window, and who should be waiting there   

But the landlord’s black-eyed daughter,

         Bess, the landlord’s daughter,

Plaiting a dark red love-knot into her long black hair.

-Alfred Noyes

To This Day

Top Bar

If you enter your email into the bar at the top, it will update you through email when I post things on Won't You Come to Dance.

The Small Things

Why doesn't anyone

listen for the things that matter?

Why doesn't anyone ever remember

to notice the small things?

Like the cry for help

That you can barely hear

Over the noise of

your selfishness

And of your hate.

Why can't you just stop

For once

And listen to 

What the breeze is telling you?

That is something

I will never understand.

How can you live with yourself

When you know

You always turn your back

And try to run away

From the truth?

Just remember that this

Is the last time 

That you break my spirit.

Never.

Come.

Back.

 

- The Wanderer

Love

What is it called when you try to talk about someone
But just can't say their name
Without that feeling inside of you
It makes you feel every emotion in one
The one where the butterflies use you as a host
The one that no one can stop
Love
But that's not all it is
It's hate and tears
It's full of horror and pain
It's the thing that taught you how to cry to sleep
Some think they can control it
They think they can use it for themselves
But that isn't Love
Love doesn't wear a white dress while she tosses you roses
She dresses like the person you like
Just so she can play with you
And she does
She will help you mend yourself from the past
Just to shatter your future
Right when you thought she may have been helping you
That she may have only been trying to lead you towards what is truly real
She slaps you across the face and laughs at you got crying
Love can never be trusted
She never could
Some people mistake her for others
But that isn't Love
Love is a lie
When someone is immortal
They loose their purpose in life
but can't leave it
So they make others suffer for it
They keep their name
But they are no longer who that name used to belong to
They are a demon
They become the demon that wears What is it called when you try to talk about someone
But just can't say their name
Without that feeling inside of you
It makes you feel every emotion in one
The one where the butterflies use you as a host
The one that no one can stop
Love
But that's not all it is
It's hate and tears
It's full of horror and pain
It's the thing that taught you how to cry to sleep
Some think they can control it
They think they can use it for themselves
But that isn't Love
Love doesn't wear a white dress while she tosses you roses
She dresses like the person you like
Just so she can play with you
And she does
She will help you mend yourself from the past
Just to shatter your future
Right when you thought she may have been helping you
That she may have only been trying to lead you towards what is truly real
She slaps you across the face and laughs at you got crying
Love can never be trusted
She never could
Some people mistake her for others
But that isn't Love
Love is a lie
When someone is immortal
They lose their purpose in life
but can't leave it
So they make others suffer for it
They keep their name
But they are no longer who that name used to belong to
They are a demon
They become the demon that wears disguised while they watch you
They watch you grow up and become happy with who you are
Until they realize for no reason you don't deserve to be happy
So they take it away
Then you can't believe for a second you ever thought they could be guiding you
When they are really only killing you inside
We all have that person who we can imagine yourself with
Even if they are already taken
Or are just playing with you
But still
You love them
And that is when Love comes for you like you're the prey
And she will come for you
Love has lost her soul
And has time to waste
So that you lose yours too while they watch you
They watch you grow up and become happy with who you are
Until they realize for no reason you don't deserve to be happy
So they take it away
Then you can't believe for a second you ever thought they could be guiding you
When they are really only killing you inside
We all have that person who we can imagine yourself with
Even if they are already taken
Or are just playing with you
But still
You love them
And that is when Love comes for you like you're the prey
And she will come for you
Love has lost her soul
And has time to waste
So that you lose yours too

-Apple

Foolish Gary

As he was packing fit an exotic trip
Foolish Gary made a foolish slip
His zipper moved fast
He let out a gasp
And that was the last he saw of his tip

-Nat

Demon's Eyes

You call them red
I amber
But really,
Does it matter
They are both
What ever the color
They are still his
His eyes
His demon eyes
But, they're not just eyes
When you see them
You know you are safe and sound
That he has come
With his black feathers
And messy hair
He will fight til the end
Even in his suit and tie
He is your butler
Your killer
Your savior
When you can no longer go up
Go down
And join him
That is all he truly wants
All he wants is your soul
But he will fight to the end for it
No matter what it takes
He is your butler
Your Black Butler

-Apple

Remember That Year

Day one
Do you remember that time
Of course you do
Who wouldn't
Who wouldn't remember the thought they were in the wrong place
That everything was just
Wrong
And before you knew it
The bell
The ringing filled your ears and you didn't know what was happening
You didn't know where to go
Then came the running
Lots of running
Why the running
And all those people made it hard
They pushed you left and right
They pushed and pulled you where they wanted to go
Not where you wanted to find
Yet, you didn't even know what you wanted to find
And at last
You were there
Only weeks later
Many weeks later
Many weeks with piles of work later
Many weeks full of nights packed with boredom and work later
You sat in a car
Dressed in overalls
Covered in blood
A hat sat on your head
With a braid down your back
And a pack on your back
You sat thinking
Thinking of the sweets and the joy that were yet to come
So close
Yet so far away
Why were you the only one
Why was no one else dressed up
Oh!
They are
Just not the people in the front
The people behind them
The people that thought the same thing as you when they came at first
And now
Next year's will think the same
And you will move on
Knowing what will happen

-Apple

KUROSHITSUJI

I'm waking up to the fires
To the pain
To the betrayal
You still lay there
Not moving
But breathing
There's no one here
But the two of us
Not a sound to be heard
Not a single bird overhead
Just the two of us
Master
And servant
Me
Your humble servant until your soul leaves you
As you open your eyes
All you see is the ash and dust
I watch as you wipe the sweat from your brow
I am strong
You are weak
But not in mind
Not in soul
But your body is failing
Like all human's do
A long time ago you were young
You were free and happy
Now you have grown
Now you know what is truly important
Now you will fall straight into the pits of hell
Just because of betrayal
And it wasn't even you who betrayed
But still crossing fine lines
I tell you I'll be there every step
There's nothing I would ever change
I'm here to stay
We made a deal
And a contract is never broken
Secrets are kept until the day we die
Even if they are the reasons

-Apple

Poem Ideas

Please comment if you have an idea for a poem you wish me to write.

My Nature

In my nature I can lay down and let the grass sway under my fingertips
As I run the rotten leaves crunch under my bare feet
My nature is knowing the true beauty of the slime that coats a frog
Understanding the unique scent of the fresh cut grass that makes others plug their nose
Watching seaweed sway in the midst of the crashing waves against the rocky shores
Being able to tap your foot to the music of the wind and lightning
I'll just stand still with closed eyes
Listening to the heartbeat of nature pounding my ears
It makes me feel at peace
And when the dark wraps itself around me
I hold it tight
I can hear the voices of the forest
Calling me home
The cold breeze rushes through me
And ruffles my mind
I know its my nature when I can hear it crying
Neither the hot 200˚ of weather
Nor the frosty flakes
Can keep me away
My nature can change my grey clouds into a rainbow
And on a peaceful summer morning
When all the dew drops are sprinkled on the wet grass
I know it's my nature
The stream filled with dirt has become my clear ocean
And when the freezing wind punches me in the face
I only laugh
Knowing it is my nature

-Apple

The Unknown

What is in the unknown
For we will never know
It is after all
Called the unknown
Misfortune?
The piece of you that was once lost?
Simply a new day,
with a new beginning,
a fresh start for all?
But we will never know
Until we take that step into the abyss 
The unknown lands

-Apple

Never to Be forgotten

On the day never to be forgotten
The fear in their sounds
The screams
They flew over like hell falling from the sky
The burning filled the sky shortly after
You could hear the crashing and shattering and falling
Of the buildings
As the silvery glass falls
On the few people to escape
The building once bursting with life
Now empty and fallen
What once stood so proud
Is gone
Never to return
The reapers were coming closer
They were chase each other for the souls who hadn’t burned
But even though they hadn't left then
Their fear still haunts them always

-Apple

Mira Rader

Spring has sprung

Fall has fell,

it's summertime, 

and it's hot as hell.

-Mira Rader

The Real Monster

Are you a monster
I dare ask you
But do you even know
Probably not
Do you laugh when someone falls down
Do you talk about them when they don't know
Or even to their face
That evil chatter you think must be funny
Those cruel words that bring them to tears
Now I ask you again
Are you a monster
Maybe still not
Yet, you probably are
You don't have to look like one
You don't have to have eyes like a deep abis
Teeth like thorns
Or green and orange skin
But to others you may be
As friendly as a starving lion
As loud as an angry cricket you can only talk about them
You may dress in suit and tie
While you work your human job
Now,
Are you a monster

-Apple

The Color of a Violin

I remember when you once told me
That you heard colors
That you saw sounds
You said songs were leaking
From the colors in paintings
And for you,
It was
The faded watercolor
Could sing you to sleep
I saw a pink sunset on the canvas
Where you heard your favorite melody
You would tell me to hear beyond the orange
To taste past the yellow
I would see the perfect shade
Of Maya blue
I could describe it as a color
That even the clear sky was jealous of
Oh, the seas would see the color
And they would send hell
Ha!
You would only laugh at me
Can't you hear the orchestra
The reds and yellows
Floating from the canvas
And into my ready ears
Eyes are for normal people
You can't look at a painting to understand
You have to taste the bitter-sweet sound
My cheeks would redden
And you'd only say I'm only making you taste wet paper
After so long
So, so long
I taste the morning paper
Only not when I get angry
But when someone mentions Minnesota
I can hear the orchestra playing
When I walk into the gallery
You have taught me
That I can see
With my ears
I can hear
With my mouth
I can taste
With my eyes
I now laugh when people look at paintings
And I ask myself,
How can they only use one sense
To understand a million words

-Apple

Synesthesia

I wrote this all for you to understand the way of synesthesia.
When you see an abstract painting you don't see the colors, you hear the orchestra. The blue violins wash over you, and the orange of the cello fill your ears.
As you listen to music, open up all your senses to it. Imagine that your skin is feeling the texture of each note as the music flows through you. Your nose is smelling the flavor of the music, and your mouth is drinking in the tone. While you do this visualize colors swirling around you in brilliant hues as the music is played. Let the music sweep through all of your senses. Use your powers of being kinesthetic and move your hands and body if you want to.
If you can't remember, write down what each note smells, tastes and feels like in emotional way. In this way, your body can fuse the senses together for the right brain's musical experience. With practice, the synesthetic way of listening to music will eventually take you over.
To practice you can play different notes on an instrument and interpret if each note resembles sweet, bitter, sour or tangy.
In the future when you're eating something, don't remember what it tasted like, that part is useless. Instead remember where you are, the things you were looking at and listening to.
After you have worked with this a while, the synesthesia way of listening, tasting, hearing, and even seeing things will come into your life and make everything way more enjoyable.

If you are interested in going on other blogs my friend Chloe has one. She posts nothing specific, just whatever she wants. Here is a link http://thingsfromcleo.blogspot.com/

Annabel Lee

It was many and many a year ago,
In a kingdom by the sea,
That a maiden there lived whom you may know
By the name of ANNABEL LEE;
And this maiden she lived with no other thought
Than to love and be loved by me.

I was a child and she was a child,
In this kingdom by the sea;
But we loved with a love that was more than love-
I and my Annabel Lee;
With a love that the winged seraphs of heaven
Coveted her and me.

And this was the reason that, long ago,
In this kingdom by the sea,
A wind blew out of a cloud, chilling
My beautiful Annabel Lee;
So that her highborn kinsman came
And bore her away from me,
To shut her up in a sepulchre
In this kingdom by the sea.

The angels, not half so happy in heaven,
Went envying her and me-
Yes!- that was the reason (as all men know,
In this kingdom by the sea)
That the wind came out of the cloud by night,
Chilling and killing my Annabel Lee.

But our love it was stronger by far than the love
Of those who were older than we-
Of many far wiser than we-
And neither the angels in heaven above,
Nor the demons down under the sea,
Can ever dissever my soul from the soul
Of the beautiful Annabel Lee.

For the moon never beams without bringing me dreams
Of the beautiful Annabel Lee;
And the stars never rise but I feel the bright eyes
Of the beautiful Annabel Lee;
And so, all the night-tide, I lie down by the side
Of my darling- my darling- my life and my bride,
In the sepulchre there by the sea,
In her tomb by the sounding sea

-Edger Allan Poe

The Raven

Once upon a midnight dreary, while I pondered weak and weary, Over many a quaint and curious volume of forgotten lore, While I nodded, nearly napping, suddenly there came a tapping, As of some one gently rapping, rapping at my chamber door. `'Tis some visitor,' I muttered, `tapping at my chamber door - Only this, and nothing more.' Ah, distinctly I remember it was in the bleak December, And each separate dying ember wrought its ghost upon the floor. Eagerly I wished the morrow; - vainly I had sought to borrow From my books surcease of sorrow - sorrow for the lost Lenore - For the rare and radiant maiden whom the angels named Lenore - Nameless here for evermore. And the silken sad uncertain rustling of each purple curtain Thrilled me - filled me with fantastic terrors never felt before; So that now, to still the beating of my heart, I stood repeating `'Tis some visitor entreating entrance at my chamber door - Some late visitor entreating entrance at my chamber door; - This it is, and nothing more,' Presently my soul grew stronger; hesitating then no longer, `Sir,' said I, `or Madam, truly your forgiveness I implore; But the fact is I was napping, and so gently you came rapping, And so faintly you came tapping, tapping at my chamber door, That I scarce was sure I heard you' - here I opened wide the door; - Darkness there, and nothing more. Deep into that darkness peering, long I stood there wondering, fearing, Doubting, dreaming dreams no mortal ever dared to dream before; But the silence was unbroken, and the darkness gave no token, And the only word there spoken was the whispered word, `Lenore!' This I whispered, and an echo murmured back the word, `Lenore!' Merely this and nothing more. Back into the chamber turning, all my soul within me burning, Soon again I heard a tapping somewhat louder than before. `Surely,' said I, `surely that is something at my window lattice; Let me see then, what thereat is, and this mystery explore - Let my heart be still a moment and this mystery explore; - 'Tis the wind and nothing more!' Open here I flung the shutter, when, with many a flirt and flutter, In there stepped a stately raven of the saintly days of yore. Not the least obeisance made he; not a minute stopped or stayed he; But, with mien of lord or lady, perched above my chamber door - Perched upon a bust of Pallas just above my chamber door - Perched, and sat, and nothing more. Then this ebony bird beguiling my sad fancy into smiling, By the grave and stern decorum of the countenance it wore, `Though thy crest be shorn and shaven, thou,' I said, `art sure no craven. Ghastly grim and ancient raven wandering from the nightly shore - Tell me what thy lordly name is on the Night's Plutonian shore!' Quoth the raven, `Nevermore.' Much I marvelled this ungainly fowl to hear discourse so plainly, Though its answer little meaning - little relevancy bore; For we cannot help agreeing that no living human being Ever yet was blessed with seeing bird above his chamber door - Bird or beast above the sculptured bust above his chamber door, With such name as `Nevermore.' But the raven, sitting lonely on the placid bust, spoke only, That one word, as if his soul in that one word he did outpour. Nothing further then he uttered - not a feather then he fluttered - Till I scarcely more than muttered `Other friends have flown before - On the morrow he will leave me, as my hopes have flown before.' Then the bird said, `Nevermore.' Startled at the stillness broken by reply so aptly spoken, `Doubtless,' said I, `what it utters is its only stock and store, Caught from some unhappy master whom unmerciful disaster Followed fast and followed faster till his songs one burden bore - Till the dirges of his hope that melancholy burden bore Of "Never-nevermore."' But the raven still beguiling all my sad soul into smiling, Straight I wheeled a cushioned seat in front of bird and bust and door; Then, upon the velvet sinking, I betook myself to linking Fancy unto fancy, thinking what this ominous bird of yore - What this grim, ungainly, ghastly, gaunt, and ominous bird of yore Meant in croaking `Nevermore.' This I sat engaged in guessing, but no syllable expressing To the fowl whose fiery eyes now burned into my bosom's core; This and more I sat divining, with my head at ease reclining On the cushion's velvet lining that the lamp-light gloated o'er, But whose velvet violet lining with the lamp-light gloating o'er, She shall press, ah, nevermore! Then, methought, the air grew denser, perfumed from an unseen censer Swung by Seraphim whose foot-falls tinkled on the tufted floor. `Wretch,' I cried, `thy God hath lent thee - by these angels he has sent thee Respite - respite and nepenthe from thy memories of Lenore! Quaff, oh quaff this kind nepenthe, and forget this lost Lenore!' Quoth the raven, `Nevermore.' `Prophet!' said I, `thing of evil! - prophet still, if bird or devil! - Whether tempter sent, or whether tempest tossed thee here ashore, Desolate yet all undaunted, on this desert land enchanted - On this home by horror haunted - tell me truly, I implore - Is there - is there balm in Gilead? - tell me - tell me, I implore!' Quoth the raven, `Nevermore.' `Prophet!' said I, `thing of evil! - prophet still, if bird or devil! By that Heaven that bends above us - by that God we both adore - Tell this soul with sorrow laden if, within the distant Aidenn, It shall clasp a sainted maiden whom the angels named Lenore - Clasp a rare and radiant maiden, whom the angels named Lenore?' Quoth the raven, `Nevermore.' `Be that word our sign of parting, bird or fiend!' I shrieked upstarting - `Get thee back into the tempest and the Night's Plutonian shore! Leave no black plume as a token of that lie thy soul hath spoken! Leave my loneliness unbroken! - quit the bust above my door! Take thy beak from out my heart, and take thy form from off my door!' Quoth the raven, `Nevermore.' And the raven, never flitting, still is sitting, still is sitting On the pallid bust of Pallas just above my chamber door; And his eyes have all the seeming of a demon's that is dreaming, And the lamp-light o'er him streaming throws his shadow on the floor; And my soul from out that shadow that lies floating on the floor Shall be lifted - nevermore!

-Edger Allan Poe

Edger Allan Poe

If you do not know the name Edger Allan Poe, you are not a true lover of poetry. OK, you still are, but you must learn of him. To some he is known as the father of science fiction and mysterious detective, to others the dark romantic, but to me he is known as the man who lost love.

Never to Be the Same Again

Do you remember that night?

That cold, dark night

The one of fire and rain

The two of us hid from the white light

The devils were coming, searching, trying to steal us away

Where were our angels?

Did they not see us?

Did they not hear us?

Our screams filled the burning sky

I did not see

I couldn’t have

For how was I to know

That our saviors from above had forgotten

They had forgotten that we were there

The two of us

Only children at the time

Forgetful children

Careless children

Children who were late when the ringing filled the sky

Oh, the memories of the sky that night

That cold, dark night

Our view of the many deaths over head

My eyes grew wide

I grabbed your hand

Never to be the same again

-Apple

I have been waiting so long to put this poem on because it is by far my favorite that I have wrote. I hope that you see the true meaning in the words.

Sank

It seemed so long

Since we’d let

The shores of Southampton

Horns were blown

Confetti thrown

And the marching band said goodbye

My smile never faded

Even after our view had left

But now the memory was gone

The water thrashed

The waves crashed

Into our perfect shield

Or so they thought

Horns and bells filled my ears

Was it a drill?

Was it fake?

But why so late at night?

I strapped the white to my chest

As I ran through the crowded halls

And towards my fate

Whether it was life or death

So many people

So many faces

And so much fear in all of their eyes

But it isn’t snowing

How can there be ice

I see none

No! There has to be more

How can there be none

I braced myself

I took a deep breath

Water ran down my cheeks like an ocean of tears

And jumped

A cool chill

So cold

So wet

I fell

Hard

I fell faster and farther down

Until there was no more time left to go up

And with panic swimming through my veins

I gulped my last breath

Of water

-Apple

If you don't know already I love poems that have a hidden meaning that makes you look farther than the words on the page. I hope the true meaning of this poem hits you.

Solitude

Solitude is dressed in a long, stormy gown, heavy boots, and a cloak of despair. Her long, wavy, brown hair floats around her pale ghostly face, and covers her hollow grey eyes, emptied of tears. She drinks a light wine of hope from her goblet of sorrow. She smells of dust, and tastes bitter-sweet. Solitude lives in the corner of a dark room, dancing alone, singing her sad song, and reading the stars. The only friends she has are Death and Forlorn. She has no enemies, for to of had enemies, she would have first have to had true friends. She loves the night, for day is filled with light and Hope. Solitude hates Hope. He always lies. She is like the silent moment when you’re left alone, never to be remembered again. The only things that are important to Solitude are the dust filtered through the window, and the darkness that covers the light. Neither the light nor Hope are trusted by her.

-Apple

Again this is another poem that the awesome Endora and I worked on for English class. She has a slightly different version of this one because we finished it separately.

Egg

Egg

An ivory life.

So small and tiny.

Just hiding in a ball. I

could hold it in my hands and

imagine what it would look like

when at last it cracks and breaks

away from inside. His old home will

be gone and he will be forced to make

a new. But will it hatch, will he live? Or

will he never come out? He has only been in

there a little while, but I wish he’d leave, I wish

he’d come and see his new home. His new life.

His new world. It must be so lonely in there. All

alone. So alone. Oh! Is that a crack? Or is the light

deceiving me? Yes! He is coming, he is going to

see his new world. A world of light and joy.

So fluffy, so brown, so new. When one

is still in their egg you never get to

see the true them. But now I

see what he truly looks

like. And he is

no longer

an egg.

-Apple

Dawn

When Wind plays with your hair

with its gentle fingers

in the first of light

I stop and listen.

The birds sing and laugh

up in their dancing trees.

Grass sways along with the trees

as Wind runs freely.

Fox, hidden away in a bush, watches

rabbit watch me

in the first light.

Raven swims above the clouds,

searching for her jewels.

I lay in the soft grass,

and feel the soil as sifs through my fingers,

and the first light covers me like a blanket

in all the beauty of this, home.

-Apple

I Live in Nature and Mind

i live in nature and mind

is that where you live?

i live here in the north, south, east, and spirit

i live in the land of my mind

my friend lives on the cross roads

do you live here in your mind?

freedom

change all perspective

moon my mother

sun my father

stars my brothers and sisters

i have love in nature

where others have hate

and a sharp mind with love

for both sides of the coin

i walk around in my mind

like in the nature of my heart

live in it

breathe in it

i could even open it

trees are my walls

grass is my carpet

and the sky is my roof

i live in nature and mind

is that where you live?

-Apple

My friend, Endora, and I worked together to write this for English class. If you want to see more of her amazing work you can check out her blog: Poems of Old. http://poemsofold.blogspot.com/