Bad news for all you who've been visiting the Tag'n'Tell board on the site: due to constant spamming the Poet has decided to remove the box. All on-site interaction will from here on take place in the comment fields, or if you'd rather email, send your thoughts directly to poetinthejar@hotmail.com.
As many of you may already know, the site's visitor count ticked over 2,000 visitors not too long ago. The Poet would like to thank everyone who keeps dropping by, making it all so much worth the trouble!
Take care out there, everyone. Street teaming and essaying is taking a lot of the Poet's space right now, but stay tuned for more!
LOVE,
The Poet in the Jar News Announcer
Tuesday, April 29
Saturday, April 12
Theater Sincere
I might as well whisper
When did we become walls?
Bricks and stones
who want to be their own
Forget what unites us,
what causes our falls
and maybe when we land
it won't hurt us at all
Anyone be my band-aid
I know I never asked to be saved
Deaf ears
What does it matter if I scream
when no one hears?
I might as well whisper
Deaf ears
What does it matter if I reach out
when there's no one near?
I might as well whisper
Carry my voice in here
Theater sincere
When did we stare and look away?
Got sticks and rocks
entering the box
Jumble us around and
mix as you may
I don't hear any steps
going here, gone astray
Anyone stroke me across my cheek
Sell your helping hand so cheap
Deaf ears
What does it matter if I scream
when no one hears?
I might as well whisper
Deaf ears
What does it matter if I reach out
when there's no one near?
I might as well whisper
Carry my voice
in this theater sincere
So why are we acting?
Playing roles we were never supposed
to play
And no one's reacting
if a sheep from the flock is lost
We don't try and find it
We don't try and pray
Deaf ears
What does it matter if I scream
when no one hears?
I might as well whisper
Deaf ears
What does it matter if I reach out
when there's no one near?
I might as well whisper
Carry my voice
in this theater sincere
And action!
When did we become walls?
Bricks and stones
who want to be their own
Forget what unites us,
what causes our falls
and maybe when we land
it won't hurt us at all
Anyone be my band-aid
I know I never asked to be saved
Deaf ears
What does it matter if I scream
when no one hears?
I might as well whisper
Deaf ears
What does it matter if I reach out
when there's no one near?
I might as well whisper
Carry my voice in here
Theater sincere
When did we stare and look away?
Got sticks and rocks
entering the box
Jumble us around and
mix as you may
I don't hear any steps
going here, gone astray
Anyone stroke me across my cheek
Sell your helping hand so cheap
Deaf ears
What does it matter if I scream
when no one hears?
I might as well whisper
Deaf ears
What does it matter if I reach out
when there's no one near?
I might as well whisper
Carry my voice
in this theater sincere
So why are we acting?
Playing roles we were never supposed
to play
And no one's reacting
if a sheep from the flock is lost
We don't try and find it
We don't try and pray
Deaf ears
What does it matter if I scream
when no one hears?
I might as well whisper
Deaf ears
What does it matter if I reach out
when there's no one near?
I might as well whisper
Carry my voice
in this theater sincere
And action!
Tuesday, April 8
Amorously Ambiguous
Listen. You'd think in this place, in this country, in this world, in this universe for God's sake, we'd be free. Free enough, at least, in love. Why do everyone keep believing that the ultimate way of loving someone is one man and one woman loving eachother? And if it's so accepted with homosexuality, why do people go around carrying their secrets inside of themselves, afraid anyone will find out? Why do we always say that it's okay to live, and love, however you want, but still you find people making the most revolting remarks and giving the most disgusted looks if anything you do differs from themselves, and their way of living?
But that's not really the burning issue, the topic that makes my cheeks burn and heart to throb. It's the monogamy issue I'm being the most passionate about. I'm simply saying, who the hell invented the "core family"? That what you're simply supposed to do in life is find someone of your opposite sex, love that person forever and get the kids nature intended you to breed, and go on to buying the Volvo and the dog and whatever. Why does it matter? Why can't we just use our hearts, so tremblingly full to the brim of emotions in conflict with eachother, to love everyone we happen to love and be happy with it? Isn't it possible to find your heart beating faster for more than one person? To want to stay in the warm embrace of your friends and wishing at times that you could have them all as lovers?
Even though you might know the feeling, you'd automatically sort it out as "wrong". Wouldn't you? Cause that's what you've been taught all a while you grew up, innit? That feeling, you'd call it cheating, you'd call it backfiring passion, you'd call it being the player type of person. You'd call it being young and wild and naive, rebellious, not knowing which way to turn so you choose the most trendy one of being amorously ambiguous.
Give it up!
I know my heart.
I know the size and the volume of it.
I know that there is one person that I'm so fond of that I could never abandon and never would want to. And I know that there is another person, completely different, that constantly clouds my thoughts, that constantly turns my rainy day into sunshine. I know that there is a third person always hanging in there for me, who's the one my steps spontaneously take me to whenever I'm lost. I know that there's a fourth person, however far away physically, always brings a smile on my lips and a shiver down my spine, who I miss sometimes so much it hurts.
All these people are different from eachother. They differ in gender, they differ in personality and in looks, they differ in the type of bond I've got with 'em. And still... they are so much the same, because they make the same kind of feelings send pulses through my body. The pulse and passion of the deepest love and the most tender desire.
Why won't you let me?
Why can't I be free in love?
Is it wrong, really, to be with 'em all, with the same kind of bond?
Here, is where my problem lies. Here, is the source for my constant unhappiness. For however nice and dandy things might look like, this is one of the things that keep me down. Deeply unhappy. I can't help that I feel this way. That I have warm emotions for more than one person. More than the person I'm supposed to love. It doesn't mean I love that person any less. On the contrary. But what it does mean is that I have to suffocate myself, my feelings, my soul, in order to stick around. For the moment I admit what the case really is like, I'm considered the cheat. The liar. The inconsistent, unreliable, restless temptress. Which is so far away from my personality that the unfair accusation of it haunts me. And still it's there. I'm sure you know it too.
Don't hate me now, fellas. Just airing an opinion and a state of mind that has been hovering over my mind for a very long time and that needs to take a walk in the sun.
THE CURRENtLY UNSATiSFiED AND WONDERING WONDROUS
POET iN THE jAR
But that's not really the burning issue, the topic that makes my cheeks burn and heart to throb. It's the monogamy issue I'm being the most passionate about. I'm simply saying, who the hell invented the "core family"? That what you're simply supposed to do in life is find someone of your opposite sex, love that person forever and get the kids nature intended you to breed, and go on to buying the Volvo and the dog and whatever. Why does it matter? Why can't we just use our hearts, so tremblingly full to the brim of emotions in conflict with eachother, to love everyone we happen to love and be happy with it? Isn't it possible to find your heart beating faster for more than one person? To want to stay in the warm embrace of your friends and wishing at times that you could have them all as lovers?
Even though you might know the feeling, you'd automatically sort it out as "wrong". Wouldn't you? Cause that's what you've been taught all a while you grew up, innit? That feeling, you'd call it cheating, you'd call it backfiring passion, you'd call it being the player type of person. You'd call it being young and wild and naive, rebellious, not knowing which way to turn so you choose the most trendy one of being amorously ambiguous.
Give it up!
I know my heart.
I know the size and the volume of it.
I know that there is one person that I'm so fond of that I could never abandon and never would want to. And I know that there is another person, completely different, that constantly clouds my thoughts, that constantly turns my rainy day into sunshine. I know that there is a third person always hanging in there for me, who's the one my steps spontaneously take me to whenever I'm lost. I know that there's a fourth person, however far away physically, always brings a smile on my lips and a shiver down my spine, who I miss sometimes so much it hurts.
All these people are different from eachother. They differ in gender, they differ in personality and in looks, they differ in the type of bond I've got with 'em. And still... they are so much the same, because they make the same kind of feelings send pulses through my body. The pulse and passion of the deepest love and the most tender desire.
Why won't you let me?
Why can't I be free in love?
Is it wrong, really, to be with 'em all, with the same kind of bond?
Here, is where my problem lies. Here, is the source for my constant unhappiness. For however nice and dandy things might look like, this is one of the things that keep me down. Deeply unhappy. I can't help that I feel this way. That I have warm emotions for more than one person. More than the person I'm supposed to love. It doesn't mean I love that person any less. On the contrary. But what it does mean is that I have to suffocate myself, my feelings, my soul, in order to stick around. For the moment I admit what the case really is like, I'm considered the cheat. The liar. The inconsistent, unreliable, restless temptress. Which is so far away from my personality that the unfair accusation of it haunts me. And still it's there. I'm sure you know it too.
Don't hate me now, fellas. Just airing an opinion and a state of mind that has been hovering over my mind for a very long time and that needs to take a walk in the sun.
THE CURRENtLY UNSATiSFiED AND WONDERING WONDROUS
POET iN THE jAR
Thursday, April 3
Nano Revival
Somehow it just felt as if I wanted to head over here and share some thoughts with you.
I've kinda revived the thing I did back during Nano last year: just writing away, thinking only of word count, for a set amount of time, say, one hour? And somehow putting myself in that old phase of concentration, geez, it was like opening some sort of tap and just let all the words flood out, soaking me through.
Feels good to be back in novel writing again. For a while I wanted to do it to perfection and thus found myself staring at the pages unable to write a single word. Everything I'd written up until that point sounded ridiculous and every little word I managed to write sounded equally dumb, ha, ha. Well, I'm not gonna say that I've worked miracles or anything - my goal was to write the good ol' 1,667 words in a single hour, and I got to only as little as 639, but still... if I count everything I've written the last few months it's no where near that much.
So even though I didn't reach my goal this time, I'm damn proud even so. This means I'm on my way to the finished story.
Yihaa!
I've kinda revived the thing I did back during Nano last year: just writing away, thinking only of word count, for a set amount of time, say, one hour? And somehow putting myself in that old phase of concentration, geez, it was like opening some sort of tap and just let all the words flood out, soaking me through.
Feels good to be back in novel writing again. For a while I wanted to do it to perfection and thus found myself staring at the pages unable to write a single word. Everything I'd written up until that point sounded ridiculous and every little word I managed to write sounded equally dumb, ha, ha. Well, I'm not gonna say that I've worked miracles or anything - my goal was to write the good ol' 1,667 words in a single hour, and I got to only as little as 639, but still... if I count everything I've written the last few months it's no where near that much.
So even though I didn't reach my goal this time, I'm damn proud even so. This means I'm on my way to the finished story.
Yihaa!
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)