Imprisoned

I'm sitting here, an empty shell,
So much more I wanted to be.
I watch it slip through my fingers.
All that it meant to be free.
I should feel relieved, and lifted from pain,
but I'm only shutting down,
imprisoned again.

Northern Lights

Spider web, dew drop stars
You're the northern lights
You are what you are

I'm the darkness
You attempt breaking through
I'm the dark grounds
You won't tread

You're the northern lights
I'm cold and dead

Spider web, full of stars
You're the northern lights
You are what you are

I'm the morbid dreams
That haunt you through
Replacing day
for night instead

You're the northern lights
I'm cold and dead

Spider web, dew drop stars
You're the northern lights
You are what you are

Intertwine

You wouldn't want to touch me,
read the danger sign.

You wouldn't want to know me,
and how my lies collide.

You wouldn't want to love me,
my love is all a lie.

You wouldn't want to be me,
already two, in intertwine.

Truth Is Stranger

You hate the place you're in.
I wish that I was you.
Everything's relative,
were we in eachother's shoes.

You hate the ones who played you.
Pulled lies and then betrayed you.
Still the truth is stranger,
was I ever to be you.

You hate the dreams I'm feeding.
I wish they'd all come true.
You know nothing
of how I dream for you.

You hate the voices in your ears.
I wish my voices were you.
Everything's relative,
were we in eachother's shoes.

Happy Pill

Two days without my happy pill
Two days without the addictive thrill
Two days without depression kills
Three days and I'm back to normal

Surgery Table

There's something in my memory,
beautifully repressed.
You want to take it out of me,
emptily undressed.
I lie here on your surgery table,
cut open from my heart and out.
Will you settle once you know?
Once you've seen what it's about?

There's something in my memory,
clouded and untold.
You want to take it out of me,
and make my soul unfold.
I lie here on your surgery table,
ripped open from my core and out.
Will you settle once you've seen the dark?
Once you took it all apart?

There's something here for you to see.
As long as you, please, don't show it to me.
Take out the tumour from my beating heart.
I can beat better without it
I can breathe better without it

Will you settle once it's out?

My Game

You're right.
I shouldn't miss him.
I know I shouldn't believe him.
I shouldn't long for what we never shared,
or the sparkling chemistry.

For what was it worth,
whatever wasn't there?
What was it worth,
the things that were?
Nothing to put at stake everything,
all that I risk, all of my game.

You're right.
I shouldn't look.
I shouldn't listen to his words.
I shouldn't imagine what could have been,
from that sparkling chemistry.

For what was it worth,
whatever wasn't there?
What was it worth,
the things that were?
Nothing to put at stake everything,
all that I risk, all of my game.

But why do you bother?
Why do you shield me?
Why do you enchant me in dance,
and put me in a dreamy trance,
whispering all of your promises in my ears,
and never failing a hug when there's chance,
when you can't be there

When you can't be it

You're right.
I shouldn't want him.
When he can't be you.
But if I'm going to wait forever for you,
I'll be done with, through and through.

How do I tell you
that all I ever really wanted
all I ever really missed
believed
longed for
and imagined
was you?

What is it worth,
whatever isn't there?
What is it worth,
the things that are?
Everything to put at stake,
all that I risk, all of my game.

__________________________________

Of course another late night madness from the Poet is something that is required after every night out, coming home in a cloud of drunkness and strange memories of a strange night. I'm perfectly sure what I wanted to say with this song, but no worries, I'm quite convinced that idea will have disappeared by morning. Interesting, isn't it? How sometimes, even though you might suspect fragments of what was really intended, the piece is left to speak for itself, with what is written; and what was once between the lines is up to the reader to interpret and to see... Either way people, enjoy, since writing is the best-can-do for the Poet, when she's depressed.
POET in the JAR

Hypocrites, Atheists, Heathens And The Late Ones

The Poet has enquired me to pass along her greetings for the holidays.
For everyone who are hypocrites, like the Poet, and celebrate holidays even though you never really considered the reasons why it's supposed to be celebrated in the first place, HAPPY HOLIDAYS!
For everyone who are atheists, and don't really believe in the whole God business, but pass on greetings to your faraway friends anyway cause they seem to like it so much, HAPPY HOLIDAYS!
For everyone who are heathen, and don't really take any sides in the religion thing because you know they were all based on primitive festivals from the start however it did turn out in the end, HAPPY HOLIDAYS!
For everyone who are one day late, and celebrate Christmas not on the Eve but on the Day, HAPPY HOLIDAYS in advance!
Greetings
The POET in the SNOWFLAKE JAR

Take A Second And Read...

Shout out and a bit of commercial, people. If any of you brilliant souls of readers enjoy some amazing poetry - which I know that you do since most of you yourselves are in fact amazing poets - stop by the new Blogger site of Roccari, fellow forum member and a poet exceeding in brilliance many that I have encountered. One of my very favorites to read and to enjoy the phenomenon of poetry along with. Mark my words, this poet will come a far way and tonight I'd like to give this special poet a bit of extra attention.

Also do not forget my list of beloved gorgeous writers already established:

Bad Seed 88 - My friend in all weathers whom I miss terribly at the moment. She's written a good deal of poetry that sticks with you after reading. Impressive poet with a lot of potential and a lot of my heart. One of her pieces on a certain music that we both love I treasure especially. Bad Seed 88 has something in her writing that makes every piece feel painfully real and true, reminding you of yourself and your own life, and she manages to do this while maintaining wonderful language use...
Replica - The finest short story writer I will ever know. Replica has a way with the language that make her stories sound like pure poetry in a poet's ears, which is rather a good grade to say the least. Powerful language, hits you like a brick and makes you think. The word 'beautiful' has been overused but has to be said here.
Cabadath - Fellow forum poet writing quite darkly but with very effective language and vivid imagery. Much talent to come.
Devil's Pride - DP, like many of the writers I've come to know, is also from the forum, and has a special way of touching my heart with every piece. Never missing out on commenting my poems he has also established a position of a terrific critic to bounce opinions with. DP always gets me with every word, carefully weighed, delicately summarized. Definitely worth your while to check out.
Aminhn - One of the greatest poets on the subject of love, fleeting, in a dream, everlasting, as it may be. Writing in rhyme and with a marked rhythm he has made his very own style of poetry which makes quite the effect.
The Masked - My far away sister who deals with many things in her life by writing it out, just like I do. She has many layers of her poetry even to an eye that does not know of all that she has come through in her life. I want to encourage her to keep going and never stop expressing herself, because she has a lot to give and is talented in her writing.
The Fragile Rose - fellow forumian poet who constantly bedazzles me. Wonderful word work and imaginative framework. Vivid language and a delicate pain that seems to burst through her words. Do not miss!
and also starring
The Naive Raven - My oldest forum friend and one of my dearest, also my ink brother. We discuss everything from our writing ideas to every day problems. Raven has a very delicate way of writing and makes it special with differing structures from poem to poem. He always has a thought dressed in words that shine through and the words themselves well chosen and thought through. Look at his works and marvel.
Enough for now,
POET in the REDECORATED JAR

So Long!

I just figured out, that if I can fit each and every one of my here published poems onto a sheet of size A4 paper, and then place all the poems in one long row, it would measure up to exactly 35,973 meters. That is almost half the width of a football field and my own length times approximately 21. Then I haven't counted every poem I wrote before I started publishing them here, OR any of the lyrics, which amount to 51 songs, OR the pieces of small poetry, which amount to a number of 8. If these were also to be included, we would be looking at a row measuring at least 53,513 meters, which is my own length times 31, or 6,295 average sized canoes for adult use.
Nighty, says the Mathematics Discoverer
POET in the JAR

Mirror Image

Where's my silhouette,
that I used to chase after?
Where's the mirror image
I used to seek?
Is there nothing here to reflect me now,
is there nothing of value to keep?
I can't on my own stand for all that I am,
without what's reflecting me
I see myself in the drops of the rain,
but it doesn't encourage me
I need to know my shadow is here,
that at least in that sense I am free
I'll follow your mirror image,
til I find my own one to be.

Rearrange

Tell me a story
I'll listen, enchanted
Submerged in every word
I'll believe your lies
And your fairytale
The illusion that makes your world
See I live on all that never was true
That's how I've endured you
I'll listen to you, enchanted
and then go to rearrange my room

Surrendering Emotion

I can't define you
You're something unsaid
Something unspoken
But you've got me in your grasp
You've got me good with your every attack

I can't find you
You're unheard of
Something hidden
But you're my following shadow
Pacing after me in my tracks

I can't understand you
You're misunderstood
Something misplaced
But I'm shivering in your hands
Surrendering emotion

Surrendering reason

Everything you say I believe
And I don't even know you
You're undefined

I Taught Something

"Why are you quitting?"
"They can't fire the best teacher at the school."
"You're different from the other teachers."
"Can't you stay?"
"You could teach our classes instead."
"Even the other parts of the school wants you to stay."
"We went to the principal yesterday to protest."
"When I get older, I'm going to sue this school."
"We don't want to change teachers again!"
"I see a difference in these kids, and most of all since they got you here to teach them."
"It's strange that a shiny paper saying 'Teacher' should matter more than the kids."
"You're still going to visit, right?"
"Everyone in the class likes you, except those four, and they don't like anyone."
"I learn things in your classes."
"Let's bully the new teacher until she quits so we can have you back."
"It's really sad to have to see you go."
"I would have wanted you to stay. You have a good hand with these kids. There's a calm surrounding you, they're calm when they're with you. And in someone that young. How did you get so calm?"
"We should do something special tomorrow. A memory, so that you won't forget us!"
"I don't want to have any teacher but you."
"It's so unfair."
"When finally we get someone we really like they're firing you."
"I've never seen the kids so united for a cause. Never."
"I'll put in a good word for you when I see the principal. You made my son like the subject again, and he's always thought it was useless. I'll put in a good word, I promise you that."
"I don't want you to leave here!"

Me neither, kids. Parents. Colleagues.
Me neither.

Morning Old Hate

I wake up.
I'm late.
I don't want to go.
Feels like I already lost the show.
I wake up.
I'm full of hate.
I want to stay.
Feels like it's too much.
That I've gone astray.
I wake up.
I can't wait.
Pull that cover again over my head,
give a sigh and a snooze,
and stay in bed.

Safe Person

It feels... unfair. Somehow. Even though I knew from the start this might happen. Even though at times I didn't want to stay. But now as it's settled... now as it's done... it feels unfair.
The kids I got in grade 9 are in their last year. The grades they settle now is what will get them through to upper secondary. They've changed teachers every term for a year and a half. They were sceptical as hell when I got them, and still, I pushed through to them. Still, I find that I've made a difference. And I never thought that I would.
Getting to know this today is four days away from the end of the term. There's barely any time left to tell my kids the bad news and let them digest. And I can't even stay around to tell the new teacher all she'll need to know to get by, because they've scheduled her to start in the beginning of the spring term, and by then fellas, I'll be long gone.
It's not my place to do, but I am entitled to think what I want, and it's almost as if I hate the poor sucker coming in to replace me. Cause I'm lucky, in a weird way. I wanted to stay. And they wouldn't let me. I will get all the lovely, tearfilled goodbyes and everyone that I bonded with will be sad to see me go. The principal and the office will get the anger and the pissed off kids on their tail. I don't envy them.
See... I thought I was invisible. Thought that no one knew what I did for this school. That no one saw if I breathed or not. That no one noticed if I called in sick.
But I wasn't.
Invisible was in my own mind.
It was what I conjured on myself.
A feeling, of emptiness, of apathy, of loss, that had nothing to do with work, but that had all to do with me.
I gotten close to them by now. They tell me things like, they never want to have another teacher. That I've made the subjects fun. That I'm the reason they come there. Sure not all of them say this. But many enough.
Just this morning I said things about how we would aim higher in spring, how we'd do things differently, how we'd improve.
And the same afternoon... I have four days left to work, and then I'm unemployed, and a drop out student.
It feels unfair.
Not only to me.
Not only because I have so much left to give. So much left to teach.
But to the kids.
Take away their teacher. Someone they come and cry to, someone they confide in. Someone they can talk to about anything. Take away their safe person. Someone who sees them as what they really are, people, individuals. Not a bunch of kids. Not a bunch of faces. I see them. Them.
And now I won't be able to stay, because I don't have a shiny paper with a stamp on it saying 'Certificate Teacher'.
Fearing to be jobless, school-less, and hopeless,
but most of all incredibly angry and sad, says
The Poet in the Quite Given Up Jar

Silver Silk, Invisible Friend

You don't tell me. You don't say.
You don't share things with me these days.
I got the deepest scar when you bypassed me,
When you became my invisible friend.
I kept your picture on that wall,
For you it was a clear cut end.
What a low way to let me know,
when you knew I would read those words,
so I do it the opposite to how you'd hoped,
I give them no attention, I glance them by.
There are things more important,
or so I pretend.
It's definite now, it's on public display.
I try to forget that I ever had a say.
There was a dream once.
There was silver silk.
And you want to spare me,
with that spike of pain.
I only see your cowardice,
returning again.
Catch your dreams for all you want.
Forget what we spoke of, back in the days.
Just don't ask me to rewind and erase.
I read you now, are you happy?
Are you pleased with the miserable me?
Why do you have to be silent?
Why couldn't you ever just tell?
There was a dream once.
And there was a star.
I still care, with a piece of heart.
Why do you have to be silent?

Panic Lost

I can't breathe.
Something's pressing on my lungs.
A mare, sitting on my chest, heavily,
like in the old drawings.

I can't breathe.
My airways are blocked.
Nothing's wrong with me and all is clear,
but something is, and I'm all ears.

I come out of my sleep choking,
tumbling on a dream,
while all the stitches I ever sew
are ripped from their fumbling seam,
I realize that it's something else,
that is close to my heart and dark,
and the reason I wake up breathless
is I'm trapped inside what things are,
I never expected to find any hope,
but since when it was taken away
I grieve for it in panic lost,
every fucking day

All Circuits Are Busy

All circuits are busy.

Dried out, burnt up, fuse gone.
Out of oil, out of flare.
Out of refill, out of air.

All circuits are busy.

Overload, I'm overthrown.
Overlost, and out of road.
Out of gas, out of wire.

All circuits are burning tired.

Too hooked up on the rear view mirror
Losing control as I go
I keep looking backwards

But I should turn
and know

All circuits are busy.

Monsters Of Mind

Here, there be monsters
Here, they scare me away
But I'm going to shut you out
And I won't look another time
Under my bed

Here, there be shadows
Like I told you, on my walls
They're unfriendly
And unkindly
And stuck, inside my head

Here, there be pondering
And ideas that never were mine
Here, there be ghosts
And demons
Of mind

Not Breathing

I woke up this morning and I couldn't breathe.
I need to vent. I need to do something. I need to do anything. Things come crashing down on me more than they've ever done before, and it feels like I've hit the limit. Like this is rock bottom.
Everyone keep telling me it'll all be better... everyone except my Mum. She says that I'm depressed and that I can't fix it by myself, that I need help to do it. She agreed to follow me to see a doctor or a psychologist or anyone really, soon. I'm really glad that I have her but there's this problem along with it.
I feel like I've taken her away from my sis.
My sis never gets any encouraging words. She is like the black sheep in my mother's eyes and always gets to hear mean things. My Mum doesn't understand her. I have such a bad conscious for this since she understands me more than anyone and I can't understand why she can't do it for my sister as well. My sis is the kind of person to talk a lot but she doesn't really talk to my Mum about things because she doesn't think she'll understand anyway. I tell my Mum maybe too much sometimes. I just feel that it's good that someone close to you knows everything you go through. I don't wanna feel like I felt awful for a long time and no one saw me. My Mum sees me and keeps helping me out and saying things that make it all feel easier. Like today she said she wouldn't make it if it weren't for me. That made it bit easier. Cause so many times I just wanna sink right through this floor and disappear, and it's always good to actually hear it spelled out in words that someone would miss you if you did.
I feel really bad about me and my sis right now. We were fine just weeks ago and now it's like we're both different people. We don't really talk anymore. The times that we do talk we just get mad at eachother and say mean things. I don't wanna say stuff like that to her because I don't really mean them. It's just in the heat of the moment and lacking to talk for real that makes me say it. I know I made my sis so sad today and I feel horrible for it. I know that maybe right now she really needs someone to be supportive for her but it's like... I can't do it right now you know? I can barely look after myself and even though she doesn't need looking after it's like... I wish I at least had some more energy to spare on her. That I had something more to give.
As it is now I'm just tired, all the time, and frustrated. Frustration really kills me, day by day. There are so many other things that I can't stop worrying about and I think maybe that's why I take it out on her, even if I don't mean to.
And I feel like I spend so much time thinking about this while I can't imagine that she does even if she did, you know (if that made any sense).
It's like... I'm looking at myself from the outside and I don't recognize who I'm seeing. That person isn't me. I'm not usually like this. I can look at myself and just know that all my problems start inside of me, that they're all in my head, and I'm blowing them up to huge proportions. It feels like, if I'm able to know this, if I know it's all my own making, I should be able to fix it, but I can't. It really makes me feel worthless that I can't fix this for once. Fix it, fix me, like I used to be able to do.
Mum says this is a dead certain sign of depression and that it's why I need some help. I think that I could use some too, but in one way I go completely anti her. She suggested to me that I take some pills that like, add to your diet with vitamins and stuff, and I really don't want to. I think that might be because I remember what it was like last time I went on any kind of pill. I remember it made me even more different, and even more depressed. It made everything, literally, hell. Even if this is just some nutritient maybe my mind just subconsciously pushes the thought away, pushes the idea away.
I love living here but right now it feels like I might as well sleep on the sidewalk. This is an empty house these days. An empty home. I can have friends over much as I want but it's so empty here without my sis. I can't explain it. I can't say why I'm mad at her all the time. It's like... she's trying to make me understand but I can't soak it up.
I can't just accept it or even try.
It makes me feel like I'm cut in half... like I'm just in the way. I'm no good sister.
I can't help it. I know that I'm being selfish. I keep thinking that my sis is the selfish one if she is so busy creating another life out of here all of a sudden, creating some kind of life where I'm not included. Maybe I'm the selfish one, for even having the thought that she should be here with me instead, to see how I'm feeling, to cheer me up. To do anything.
I just feel so lonely, so fucking lonely, and everything about my situation and about some things that I should keep away from here is just getting to me and I really fucking hate it, I really, really hate it...
I'm just so invisible and no one sees me...
Yes, She Is Aware That She's Being Pathetic,
And She Knows All You Guys Thinks She Isn't Invisible,
Or A Good-For-Nothing,
But What Do You Do When You Can't Shake The Thought?
THE POET in THE JAR

Dreaming Kills Us

From the minute we were born, we were given something. Even if the rest of our lives was going to be nothing but a long row of trials, a long row of late night tears, of misery, of self-pity... of dwelling on our guilt, or the one we imagine that we possess. Dwelling on all the feelings in the half of the spectrum that qualifies under torment. Under torture. Under the headline starting with any other word beginning with a T. And maybe those of us who dwelled the most, those who had to live through the worst, used that something the best... and made the most of it.
We never realize it's there.
We use it, every day, to escape, to try and forget the fact that in the end all the ones of us who are too emotional, too empathic, are all just like Izzie, lying on the bedroom floor. You can be in shock. You can have the salt running down your face without knowing why. Without being able to say. But you're there, nonetheless, you're on that floor, in your fancy dress, and blind to all that try and persuade you that your dress has filled its function, that you can't wear it any more.
And you refuse to take it off. Because you know, that the second you do, you have to land again, right back into reality, right back into duties, into practical. That fancy dress, that mask of yours, has to go back on some shelf, and will be forgotten. It will keep that scent. Keep everything about it that made you still close, that made you still surreal.
If you give up that dress, you give up on hope. You give up on what made you dream. You give in, to what the world will try to make of you, another cog in the machinery, another part of the big picture to make it all run smoothly. The world wants you to believe that you're vital. And that you'll make a difference. That someone will know whether you are here or if you're not.
But the only ones who will notice, you will always be uncapable of seeing. They'll all be invisible to you, and you'll always be invisible to them.
Or at least in your eyes.
We dream.
We dream because that's what we were meant to do.
We were never supposed to make some machinery run, or to go through our lives on routine... avoiding to hope and to nurture our visions of the future, because we were too afraid to be burned again, too afraid to be hurt.
Those who really suffer... those who have really sacrificed themselves to the world... to what they are expected to be... are the ones who never dream. Those who have forgotten what it does to you to drift away, forgetting, soaking yourself in everything that wasn't here, that wasn't real, that wasn't now.
That said... dreaming will never come easily.
Dreaming kills us, day by day, making us believe things that will never come true, making us believe we can hold on to something. To anything.
Anything that will hold us away from what pains us.
And then we fall.
We crash down, and we fall.
It hurts. It hurts like hell. And none of us knows how to live with it. None of us knows how the hell we're gonna make it through another day, when just breathing is hard enough, when all we want to do is to give up, to cave in, to sleep... to disappear.
It costs to chase a dream. Some of us don't even know what we want. What we desire. We're left in constant confusion, and constant ponder and worry. Maybe, for us, that cost grows rapidly, with every step we take, with every hesitation.
Or maybe the ability to dream, and to fall by the hands of it, is the very cost in itself...
POET in the Dreamy JAR

Sugarcoated

Sugarcoat the past.
We do it every day.
I do it, remembering what things used to be like. I remember all the good things that have been lost by now... the innocence we were all robbed of, some of us too early, earlier than what was intended.
And in the sugar, in the sweetness, in the sepia colors, we lose all of the darkness, what yearns to come to surface and battle us in the present second. We drown our misery in joy, and leave it out as we remember, imagining our days were all glory days, and that we shone together.
I was lonely all awhile, and I never cease to repress it.
POET in the Sugarcoated JAR

Games And Shows (On Your Wall)

Look at this shining jewel,
and how it's perfectly rounded,
how it glimmers and glows in the light.

How the sun bounces off the surface,
playing games and shows
on your wall.

You are this jewel,
and you are rare.
But you are hollow.

Shine on in the light, and dance.
Forget the past and the future, in a trance.
Make everyone look at you,
shining and glimmering.

You are this jewel,
and you are rare.
But you'll be stolen by tomorrow.

Your Hell

After you were here
After you filled hour after hour
And took the edge of
everything scary
After you left
After you're gone
I'm empty
I'm apathy
I'm no longer me
After you took your song away
After the sound died out
There are echoes here
There are shadows here
You'll never know you were it
And I'll never tell
I'm empty
I'm apathy
Just a feeling away from your hell

50K!

Hit 50K.
And in love with my novels.
POET in the JAR
Finally pleased with something

Upsidedown

Just got home after drunkness, I don't know who to talk with, I'll just spill it out here where I won't be bothered, I have to vent. On the way home from the club, I could feel something cold in my face, and knew what it was before I touched it and my fingers turned red and sticky. Second nosebleed of the day, had another one earlier when I was at the mall. Seems I never have any tissues lying around when this happens and so I just have to walk around with my face bent upwards into the sky, trying to keep the blood from running too far down on my face, stop it from being smeared out. And then around now I was just a block from home and as I went home I had to run upstairs and plug it in with some tissue before I could say my goodnight, which was a very troubled goodnight and it shouldn't have had to be. Sorry you had to see that. Sorry that even happened. I don't know but somehow it feels as a bad sign, just another thing suggesting my life right now is so fucking upsidedown.
Yeah.
Hoped to get a turn of the evening, out of something unexpected that happened yesterday, and earlier today... but nothing went as I'd hoped for. Nothing went right. Again, I find myself stranded where hope won't reach me, where it's silly to believe.
And maybe you'd be happier then.
Maybe the only way to keep you happy is if I'm miserable. And even when I'm miserable and even when I'm worse than that you don't see me. You pat me on my shoulder saying "poor thing" and "take care" and even though that thought really matters... in all, you still don't see me. This is what you've grown used to seeing of me, this is the person you have come to know. You wouldn't recognize me with a smile on my face and even if that ever happened you would blame it on yourself, saying the reason for my happiness must be that you aren't around. What's wrong with that? What's up with that? When will you see that even though a lot of my sadness and happiness in the days have had to do with you, not all of it does?
I'm miserable, tonight, and it's not your fault. You did your best to cheer me up. I know that. I'll remember that. But it wasn't because of you. I'm not miserable because of you.
It's because of every other little thing in my life right now that causes me some serious head strong damage, and I hate it. I hate it all. I just want to sink right through this floor and disappear.
And what's with the not being able to be alone thing? If I'm talking about someone else now. If I'm talking about you now. Why can't you spend a single night on your own? Why is there always someone in your bed, or you're in someone else's bed; while I go to bed night after night, on my own, by myself, lonely. Maybe if you didn't for a while, maybe if you tried sleeping lonely, you'd know what it was like; know what it was like to be poor me, that poor thing, she has to be depressed or why else wouldn't she want you to braid her hair?
I'm so sick of it, of all of it, and I just can't take it anymore, I can't take anything, I'll just crawl up here and die a little inside, and fade a little inside, taking the fake dream and hope that you gave me, the fake friendship and the fake deep, the fake dance, the fake hugs, the fake looks, I'll take them all and feed on them, and make myself a new dream, something else, something true.
Just a piece of anything mine when I can't share.

Scenes Of The Show

What's the use? Seriously? Of believing, of making yourself think what you thought could never be... just might. You're doing nothing but fooling yourself, betraying yourself with hope, and naivete. There are no such things these days, no room for either of them. I'm so tired of building hope, of building naivete, of building a world where there's no one in it but me...
I know it's not the case but I feel like the loneliest person in the world who's just had a most crazed out night and not in a good way even though most parts of it were good.
Why am I always the last to know?
Why don't you tell me anything?
Just leave me there behind the scenes of the show,
Seeing it all, but believing in none of it.

On Speed

What am I to you
but undefined
A blur
in rewind
You won't see me
fly you by
I'm in slow motion
and you're on speed
Missing every piece
of the puzzle
we laid out
What am I to you
but a wind and a wisp
Invisible
A magic trick
You won't see me
disappear
I'm on speed
and you're in slow motion
Missing every piece
of the dreaming
we made out

Happy-Go-Lucky

So what, I'm fucked up.
I'm a wreck and a mess,
and I've ceased to care.
I don't go to work.
I skip it the way I used to skip school myself
(that last part was a joke
I meant the way I never used to skip school)
You ask me at times
What's wrong with me
And why can't I just be
happy-go-lucky
And I don't know.
I aint got an answer
decent enough.
Would you point to my aches
if you could?
Would you try to define my pain?
Do whatever you've got time for cause
With someone not caring
All effort's in vain.

I Will Do

I'd like to dedicate this song for you
For you, my little stranger
A lonely face among many and I knew
You little stranger

This piece is for you,
Cause I know you by heart,
And I knew you from the start
This piece is for you,
Cause no one else will write your song
But I will do

I'd like to dedicate this moment to you
To you, my little stranger
A lonely voice among many and you got me
A little danger

This piece is for you,
Cause I know you by heart,
And I knew you from the start
This piece is for you,
Cause no one else will write your song
But I will do

I'd like to dedicate this song to you
Sing to me, a good night sleep
I'd like to dedicate this song to you
Sing to me, swing by my tree

This piece is for you,
Cause I know you by heart,
And I knew you from the start
This piece is for you,
Cause no one else will write your song
But I will do
This song will do

This piece is for you ...

Solo Man

How can you share so many
of my dreams and of all I ever thought
How can you know which songs that I love
and look into that camera
as if you knew me

Why wasn't I born some other place?
Where rare gems like you grew on trees
And I wouldn't be down now, down on my knees
as if I knew you

How can you know just what to say
to make me laugh and drain my drought
How can you know which words I will love
and look into my eyes
as if you knew me

As if we knew eachother

The Old Cynic

Got to 41K yesterday. Phew... wrote almost 3K in that day, even though I'd been at work in the day, and even though I was dead tired. I keep looking through the book-book, looking through my old notes, through it all. Something's been stirred inside me, something's been awakened... realizing why I first begun telling these stories, realizing what's there, in between the lines; that is both painful... and that I love with all my heart.
I put too much emotion in the things I write. Feels like every sentence and every word I put down on that paper is a chunk of myself, going astray from me, while it all the same feels like they belong to me more than ever... those words, being mine and nothing but mine; yet influenced by everyone that ever affected me, everyone who ever meant something.
Good or bad.
And I feel just like Woven's feeling right now, in the third novel, while things are starting to strain on him, finally catching up. I feel lost. Like I don't know who I am. And still, I'm more of myself than I ever was. More of the old bex, the cynic, the dark one. Something I read today reminded me of it.
A world where depression and sadness is mistaken to be intelligence...
I love just to be here, this second, in this room. I wish I never had to leave here. I need nothing but my acoustic songs, creative mind, and this temporary less intricate state of mind. I need only to listen to music that touches my heart. Need to be emotional and to live for nothing but what simpleness and words can vouch for me to feel. And forget about the rest.
POET in the sugarcoated JAR

Shards Of Heart

Unlikely
Yet I dream
Allow me to dream
Of you

That's where we can be what we are
What the world will never let us be
We'll be stars
We'll be shards of heart

Compare me
Shallowly
To what you knew
But I run deeper
Than her
And deeper
Than you

That's where we can be what we are
What the world will never let us be
We'll be stars
We'll be shards of heart

But I'll never tell you
Just to spare you from the pain
I'll never let you know
That I held on to you

While the rest let go

That's when we can be what I imagine we are
What the world will never let us be
We'll be stars that I conjure
We'll be shards of heart
_________________

Gustav brought his guitar over tonight and started finding some new song, and asked me as a joke mostly to write the lyrics to it. Well, I gave it some thought, and here's the result. Only remains to see if we can fit it in nicely with the song (don't remember exactly how it went).
I simply can't wait until I get my hands on the new guitar when I get my next salary. Hence will I begin heading down the road of actually learning how to play myself...

Crashing Down, Staying Down

I'm down. Staying down. My throat is more sore than a desert storm mercilessly tearing at you and I have some serious stomach pains. Fuck. Another day to stay at home, another day I'll miss out on. Hoping I won't have to cover someone's class after my lesson tomorrow, because I'll have wee bit to catch up on.

Another thing. I reached as far as 29,5K yesterday. That means I'm only about two days behind and barely that. The last two days I've written more than 2K a day and I think I hit my own day record yesterday, writing 3,1. I usually never do that. I don't feel like writing much now though. I just wanna use this day to sleep, to dream, to be by myself, if I can. Not even thinking of work or of anything.

I found this really, really amazing education that I got interested in... teaches you how to design in 3D and lets you make animated short films and create stuff for games and god knows what. No requirements except basic requirements and samples. The samples weren't even anything else than around 5 pencil sketches. I can do that... usually these kind of educations require tons of math, I just hope there won't be any of that stuff. Well, I thought telling Mum about this would make her strangle me, but I think she got how excited I was... that I was seriously very interested. I always wanted to go to an art school, it would mean so much to me. And actually she right away helped me and we discussed that maybe if I take this education I might be able to count that in as having studied art, if I'll ever become a fully fledged teacher. By then I might be able to count those points and have to do not much more than the pedagogics. That would really be awesome...

Really hope it works out. Gotta check it out some more first.

I don't know what's wrong with me but I'm an emotional wreck right now. Like finally everything just flooded the cup. I'm a sensitive person and I cry easily but it's been a long time since I'd cry like this. Like I can't stop myself, helplessly. Like the other day when I just burst out crying in the middle of our office. What was that about? I don't know. But it feels like I'm hitting a limit very soon, and crashing.

Crashing down, staying down.

Wow. Can't wait to get home to Mum and Dad's this weekend. It'll take me away from all this.
It'll give me some kind of break.

Cause I just can't pull it through much longer.

Invisible

Good night
Where you're lying awake
In your house
I know where it is
Good night
And sweet dreams
I'm invisible
For the night
Forget me a little bit
Forgive me another bit
I wish we could sleep together
One more time
Meanwhile, good night
ruby

Your Fool

There was a glimpse of light
or so it seemed in my eyes
It turned out it was only me
Imagining

Dressed up in a closed down room
Forevermore I'll be your fool
So crown me your clown

There was something resembling a star
Something resembling a color
It turned out it was only me
Only me and make-believe

Dressed up in a closed down room
Forevermore I'll be your fool
So crown me your clown

There was something close to being you
And something that sounded like your voice
It turned out it was only me
Projecting on the world who I wanted you to be

Dressed up in a closed down room
Forevermore I'll be your fool
So crown me your clown

I'll be your fool
Though you tossed me away
With your innocence

Real Demon

I once was under your skin.
Knew every breath that you ever drew in.
Your secrets were safe here,
I was next of kin.

So why am I a ghost now?

Your feelings made your world.
Your universe built around how you were hurt.
Your every word was safe here,
You were what I deserved.

So why are you a ghost now?

Just a ghost
who never saw
the real demon

Marescape

Just another late night madness
Don't let my words sink in
I'm messed up and I'm drowning
to the sound of my sanity,
gone with the tide
It's just another late night madness
from a poet, late night thinking
I'm messed up and my words
come out far from romantic
Soon when I twitch to sleep
the marescape will take me over
and just another late night madness
has joined me while I'm sober

Beautiful Origamy

Give me a blank page
I can soak it with my tears
Don't give it away if you care for it
Or your beautiful origamy will be ruined
by my salt
Give me blank eyes and a stare
Imagining that you never strayed there
I can drown you in my tears
Don't step close if you care
Or your beautiful feelings will crumble
into ashes
See I'm no more than a curse and a pain
Besides all the ordinary, and all the plain
Give me a blank page, and eventually it will burn
You can try and reboot my stranger name
but a curse will never learn

Songs Of You

About a million times I wanted to write you
Just shout out and have a go at screaming
Wondering if you understand what you did,
gave me a promised land we'd venture to,
and then destroyed all my dreaming
And a million and one times there were salt over you
Falling from my eyes though I tried not to
Remember that vow you made, that you'd never leave me
to find my way back home alone?
Well it was just what you did, and I think you prepared me
You gave me all those songs that I could listen to while grieving
They all were about you
And how I died, without you
Sometimes a sparkle can fade and I could understand if that was it
But you didn't have to pretend there never was a star
That there never were two shards of heart
You made a lie out of what was unusually true
You vented your vengeance on me, and I let you
I thought you knew me
You spoke of tomorrows
Revealed all your yesterdays
And there were no secrets
And then the last time, still so vivid
You sent me another song
Something you sang of a dying star
I still recall those lines
And then in your dark hours
when you most would have needed me
You became a secret
and you hid from yourself
and you hid from me
Forever now you're untold
A story that should have been
that you made sure will never be

Hurricane

I miss you, strangely.
Not so much what was deep.
Not so much what was meaningful.
Mostly that you were here.
A whisper just stroked my cheek
like a wind
and I know you're asleep
You're not here but I let you in
That once
This present
So maybe for a few more seconds
before dreaming steals me away
I can imagine that we are winds together
Tumbling currents, a breeze,
and a storming hurricane.

Ticking By

Just discovered the beauty of doing word wars to pull off the daily amount of prose. Did a few five-minute ones, one 10-minute and one 8-minute race yesterday, and they all pretty much boosted my word count... no, even more so, they made all of it. In like a total of half an hour I got more written than any of the previous days. I will for sure use this technique again, much thanks to the chatbox on Nanowrimo.org.

Other than that, don't know what's up really. I'll be heading down to the cafeteria here at work in approximately 6 minutes in order to "guard" it, it's my turn to do it. That means like 30 minutes of walking round the café staring at everyone's delicious food without getting to touch it yourself. Hmm, I'm drooling already.

Somehow glad that every day that ticks by is one day less I have to spend here, one day closer to quitting. I'm really not sure I wanna stick around when spring comes... we'll see what happens. Right now I'm just such a wreck, can't deal with anything, even the easy parts of the job seems twice as difficult as they usually do. I just feel so weirded out and down. Happy that Jessie slept over last night though. And that the surprise party went well, that's good also.

Can't believe I'm even here, got a headache and a fever, but I'll be headed home early to catch some sleep.

Early bird catches the worm,
THE POET in the JAR

Muddy H2O

I'm just the water
in the watering can
Giving nutrition
to you
if I can
But your thirst is fading
Day by day
Empty this jug, in disarray
I'm just the writer
pouring myself out
over you

I'm running out of words
Fill me back up
With muddy H2O

That's the least you can do

Pathetic

How can it be
that it still hurts
to miss you?

I know I'm pathetic
but I do

Just tell me
where you put

our dreams

I want mine back

How can it be
that I still

fucking

love you?

Victory?

Ok, not much time for posting, since I'm off to see a band close to my heart real soon... <3

But...

The 50,000 word limit has been breached.

Seems going home to Mum and Dad's works wonders for my creativity, he he.
But just as with the first one, although the word count has been hit, the story is far from done, and tomorrow the next one starts... not sure how to bridge this gap. I will probably let some time have miraculously have passed when GD starts and then I'll just fill in the gap in the end of MTE, haha!

Ok so out again peeps,
see you soon again
POET in the FREAKING HALF-DRUNK JAR
(As always)

Glass Plate

Our seconds are fragile,
they're all beyond frail.
I'm the glass plate,
Be careful,
You spell betrayal.

Our moments are wasted,
they're not worth a thing.
I'm the table cloth,
You're the stain,
and the coffee ring.

I won't waste another frail second
closing my eyes to your embrace
Every time I awake again
You're still a traitor
And I'm still the glass plate

Broken

Stepping In The Rain

Same steps
As before
Just as heavy
Splashing in the pools
of rain
Same rain
As before
And same steps
Only a little,
only a bit,
only so much
more.

Stress is glorious!

47,300 words, approximately, and counting. Two more days to finish, 2,700 words left to write. Doable, right? Haha. I'd better be done by Saturday morning when Nano starts, and I'll have to have some sort of ending to MTE before beginning on the final novel.

Either way!

Just wanted to drop by to say hi... and gee, it's late.
POET IN THE JAR
Short of words, this once.

The Poet's Shout Out

This one is for you.
You matter.
You mean my world.
And my heart bursts
loving you.

Gap?

Ok. Only 5 days left until Nano kickoff and I'm getting a teeny bit nervous that I might not make it in time... I have 9,000 words left to write before I hit the mark. Oh! And I just realized something else, that the story has to be sort of completed by that time, or it will be quite difficult continuing on the third novel right away... I might have to skip some parts of the sequel so that I can fill up the gap later. Haha!
Ok, gotta make sure to write some more if I wanna consider myself done for the day... Not much more time for dropby's here.
See ya!
POET in the Obstructed JAR

News of Nano

News from Nanowrimo says they've made a deal with a publisher meaning each and every Nano 2007 winner will be able to get one free copy printed in paperback form of their manuscripts. Kind of awesome, huh? I'm thinking that how ever it will turn out with the publishing deal I am so gonna use this opportunity. Nano fucking changed my life and I can barely imagine holding the product of it in my very hands, the very proof I pulled it off, saying so much more in my eyes than a diploma and a winner's picture ever could say.

Love you all.
POET in the JAR,
Miserable,
As Always...

A Red Umbrella

I'm weighed down, by the rain.
I walk with heavy steps.
Draining the world of laughter,
becoming ever soaked and wet.

And a red umbrella passes me by.

I'm tumbling, in the stormy winds.
Fighting just to stay down.
The world is drained of its colors,
the world has lost its crown.

And a red umbrella passes me by.

You're a stranger and you defy me
You defy all the grey that I see
You and your colorful up to date leaf

Under a red umbrella
You pass me by

On Top Of My Head

Totally on top of my head. Totally not tired. Totally swept away by the storm raging outside my window.
And I can't sleep.
The publisher got back to me today, hinting they would be interested in proceeding. They said what they can offer me is a so called Joint Venture Publishing, which is basically where I take part of the financial risk but get more part of the winnings. What would be safest to contract is a Traditional Publishing where the publisher takes all the risk, but they didn't believe they could hand that down to me (which might be understandable since they're in the US, and well, I'm not). I read it all through, don't know at all how to proceed. I just forwarded it to my agent to let her have a look at it and I'll decide something after she gets back to me, hopefully soon.
Meanwhile the mere idea of getting step by step closer to publishing sends shivers down my spine... and makes me on top of my head.
Totally not tired.
POET in the JAR

Under Your Leaf

Walk me by.
I'm not a storm cloud, raging.
I'm not the thunder bolts.
Not even the rain.
I'm nothing interesting,
I'm nothing but plain.

Walk me by.
I'm not a rainbow, doubled.
I'm not the golden treasure.
Not even a color, or a shade.
I'm nothing of value,
I'm a ghost in pain.

Walk me by.
I'm not a friend, fading.
I'm only under your leaf.
You held me dry all awhile,
but ghosts without value
all fade with time.

Walk me by.

I still didn't forgive you.

My Ceiling Sky

I let you in when I let no one else
Somehow you were already at hand
Because you took the back door in

And I couldn't predict you

I let you close when the curtains were down
You were the stars of plastic in my ceiling sky
Glowing for me when the lights went out

I couldn't predict you

And by now you're fluorescent no more
You're not illuminating my night
You took the back door out

And I couldn't predict you

I am the moth
You drew in
And made to ashes
I'm the nightfly
You let die

And I couldn't predict you

Chained To Me

I'm worried about your piece of heart
Chained to mine
Everlastingly
Watching you as you corrode in the rain
As you torment yourself in your own pain
Believing you are destined to be

You hold in your hands your feelings
The life you lead
And even though you're chained to me
You believe you were never meant to be

I picture you this moment, your piece of time
Just as mine
It's ticking by
You swirl in your anxiety, in your night
Drowning yourself in your own veins
Believing you don't deserve to see

That you don't deserve to fly

You hold in your hands your feelings
and the life you lead
And even though you're chained to me
You believe you were never meant to be

I hold in my hands our feelings
The lives we lead
And even though I'm chained to you
I can't get through
And you believe I never was meant to

For Once Be Real

I don't wanna be judged anymore.
Don't wanna be evaluated.
Don't wanna be assessed.
I just want to do what I want for a while.
Resting a little from your watchful eyes.
For once close my eyes, close my mind
and just feel.
For once be a being,
for once be real.
_____________________________

Found this just now while cleaning, it was in a school notebook. Think it's kinda decent, ha ha. Guess I wasn't too fond of school right about this time...
That'll have to do for now,
// POET in the JAR

Second Of Perfect

I hold fairytales and bubbles in my hands
Lifted you up here to preserve you
But after a second, under my care
The bubble bursts like I never was there

Why should I try to save you?
When you're going to burst on me
Why should I try to hold you?
Is that second of perfect worth it?

I hold jewels in my hands
Lifted you up here from the mud
But after a second, under my care
The jewels fade and there's nothing there
Not even a reflection of the sun

Why should I try to save you?
When you're going to fade on me
Why should I try to lift you?
Is that second of perfect worth it?

Why should I try to find my way to you,
preserving you?
Why should I make the effort?
Why should you?

The beauty will fade
The glitter will soon be gone
And all I'll have is to wait for the dawn
The magic will fade
The sparkles will soon be gone
And all I'll have is to wait for the sun
The sun

Why should I try to save you?
When you're going to burst on me
Why should I try to preserve you?
When you're going to let me down

Is that second of perfect worth it?
Is that second of perfect worth it?
Is that second of perfect... worth it?

Grains Of Sand

There's something in those eyes.
In that voice.
In those fingers.
Something about the melancholy way that you smile.
The way I make you smile.
Hold on to me, in your desert.
Even though I'm not the hero you requested.
See the grains of sand with me.
And keep that something in your eyes.
In your voice.
In your fingers.
It'll be worth our while.