PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

There is no obligation.

No urge, no restraint, no frustration.

A weak chain that in the wind may blow,

A strong and sturdy, heavy chain, no.

There is no choice,

No choice to be made.

No need to rejoice,

No suffering forbade.

For us to make meet, there are no ends,

For I see no obligation there, my friends.

I've lived a pretty

sheltered life so far.

So I have gotten used

to not going out,

or going places with friends.

So now, I'm in a dilema...

I don't know how

to get out there,

to be outgoing,

and get noticed.

I don't know where

all the hot spots are.

I don't know how to ask

my mother to let me go out.

I don't know how to dance.

I don't know how to dress sexy.

I don't know how to flirt real well.

I don't fit in when I go out.

I want to have a boyfriend,

I want to be loved.

I want someone to want me.

I want someone to know.

Oh, I want someone to know,

the feelings that are trapped inside of me,

trying to get out.

I don't know how to let go,

to have fun!

Nor, where to go to

have fun!

I've lead a pretty

sheltered life so far,

but I want to break out of that shell,

get out from under that shelter!

Become more outgoing!

Have Fun!

I've lead a sheltered life,

but now I want to be free!

He was an odd man, who liked to hold his penis,
He always stayed with his aunt,
Never had a girlfriend,
And his mother used to clean for us.

Not particularly handsome,
He searched high and he searched low,
Girls liked him but they'd always say,
'You can't be holding your penis all day'.

One day he chopped it off,
And put it in a jar,
He found a girl to marry,
But their sex life never got far.

1:30 AM 5/23/2013 ©

Do you feel a certain way when looking at the waves
along a cozy coastline that’s lined with fleets of shells?
You sort of settle vacantly, transfixed and more relaxed
than you’d been a moment past, before you saw the sea.
Or maybe in the curving arm and bending claw of smoke
that rises from your lips or from your very fingertips,
and pollutes the air with essence of a mass production.
We long to build a cherished lift that keeps us held above,
away from all uncertainty, accompany the clouds;
pretend that all the muddled words that reach us from below
are cheers of our exaltation and our place earned in the sky.
And there we’d see nothing but the sea and clouds
that look like stray and wayward-billowed
stacks of smoke, lost to what they’d only known
and their only sense of right and home.
Our smiling and fattened faces would open
and grin with bright and glaring teeth,
lost in the exhaust of lift to elevated gold,
eventually sleeping most of the day away.

I feel like I am stuck in the middle
Like I am suck between now
And what could have been

If only, if only
What might have been?
What never was?

I know I don’t want to go back
Because I know who I was
And that’s not who I want to be

But if I could keep him
And drop all that I used to do
I would like that the most

But I can’t go back in time
No matter how much I wish it
So I can’t waste time on wishes

But I can change the future
But how do I do that?
Maybe, I’ll never know

All this plagues me every night
Makes it so I cant sleep
But maybe that is just because

I want him to be near me
And hold me as I sleep
Oh, back to wishing

~Chrystal
Written on
October 1, 2011