The Sycamore

Walking through the wood

Hooves crunching on leaves

Brittle branches snapping below

Nose sticks up in the air

Sniffing

The smell in the air

The stag noticed it

Above all other scent

He looked, longingly, and wandered

The doe, the doe, the doe everywhere

The doe wandering, longing for the stag

The snow fall drops onto the deer

Like the tears that they cry

The tears cried when the longing is for the lost

The snow drops onto the stag

The stag goes on, goes on

He watches; pays attention

Every detail it watches

From the feather off to the right

That falls from the brown owl flying above

The brown owl leads his gaze

Towards the tree

The tree

The tree that sticks out most

Because that is the tree

The sycamore tree, living in the belly of pine

The forest of pine trees surrounds it

The sycamore being the meeting place

Of the doe that he longs for

The stag steps forward towards the tree

As he realizes

The beauty of the doe

Resides within him, for she is always there

As he realizes this, he knows to long no more

As the doe he desires puts down her head

Right next to his; brushes against him

The stag and the doe

The sycamore

In The End?

Poem dedicated to Chris (for the idea and inspiration, and has a fine last name :P) and a certain special friend in my life....

That one person

The one you would die for

Could you really die

For her when

She may not die for you

Does it matter if

She returns those feelings or not

Or is it just the love of the friendship

That counts?

But what if there is no

Friendship?

What if it's one sided?

What if it is just me

Missing her

The one who had saved me

Does she really matter

In the end

Do I matter to her

In the end?

The Entity Unique

Poem dedicated to Kayla Erickson.

He walks through the forest

Just and entity in time

Listening to the trees

The trees

They speak

To the entity unique

He crawls, he grovels, he goes on

Just for you

Just for the sake of the trees

The trees

Silhouettes of the darkness

The entity rids them all

And turns them back

Into green growing trees

To live a life worth growing for.

Poem Dedication

I have thought about starting to dedicate some of my poetry that either is inspired by someone or written about someone etc. Today is the day that I start dedicating poems that I am writing, if I feel they need to be dedicated.

A

This is a poem that made it into Shorewood HS Imprints last year, my original and first senior year. I wrote this near the beginning of the school year last year, but just now decided to post it.

This poem starts with an A,

Apple starts with an A,

Apples are red,

Meaning this poem is read.

Is It That Clear?

Is it worth it

to keep up faith

in that which is unfaithful?

Can we really hope

can we really dream

that it will all be ok?

Will it actually last

or will it plummet

into everlasting doom?

Does it really count

to hope and dream

or is it completely pointless?

The answers are clear

for a simple hopeless fellow

it is worth it

to wish...

Hypocritical Psychosis

I walk down the street
Thinking to myself

"Am I insane,

Or is it just an illusion?"

The insanity there

Is to make me different

Make me special

Make me significant.

I imagine a doctor

Letting me know nothing is wrong

And the disappointment I would feel

Knowing that I was typical, average.

Is it wrong to want to be insane

To feel the need to be diagnosed

As utterly and mentally

Psychotic?

I try to understand these feelings

That I may be completely normal

That I might just be filled with

Hypocritical psychosis. 

The Glorious Colors Inside

Standing in the kitchen
My hands are full
A letter in one palm
A knife in the other.

The letter is there
Addressed to Diane
The knife is there

Addressed to my flesh.

The letter pours out

The wonders of my life

But the shyness as well

Which kept it all inside.

I open my tight fist

As the letter drops to the floor

My shirt is lifted by my empty hand

As the other slices my exposed stomach.

The warm liquid pours over my hands

The front door lock clicks open

I drop the knife with a clang

My son walks in.

Who follows him is Diane, my beautiful wife

They gaze in terror at what I had done

But as I follow their gaze

All I see are the glorious colors inside.

Raw Shark

This poem came to me two days ago while I was reading Watchmen. For all of you who have read the comic, the title of the poem should make complete sense and you should know who inspired me to write this poem that can be taken two ways.

Raw Shark

Have you ever seen

The darkness inside of you

And peered into it

Realizing that somewhere within

There is a person

Peering back out

Shoelessness

This poem was sparked by a conversation I had with a fellow classmate. We were talking about a contest for our school literary magazine, Imprints, which has the theme of Daydream. I went on a random bout of talking about weird surrealistic things and poems and stories and basically came up with the idea of feet running away from their owners. After I wrote the poem, I realized that it can be looked at as a metaphorical poem, whether I planned to write it that way or not. But I will not explain the metaphor that I have thought of and instead leave it to the readers interpretation.

Shoelessness

The feet that run through the forest

Come from the roads and the cities

And from the houses in the dark

From their owners who where no shoes

Deny Myself

This poem was written about a girl, obviously. I felt weird liking her at the beginning because of our age difference. In the end I wrote this poem and started realizing that the age difference isn't that big and it doesn't really matter.

Deny Myself

How do I deny the existence

Of my feelings for her

Knowing that in turn

I would deny the existence of myself

The Hiding Side

I came up with this poem from a conversation I had with my friend over email. I was feeling bad about something that happened between me and a friend and was basically being optimistic and saying that eventually everything will be all right between the two of us. This is just what my dialogue ended up being.

The Hiding Side

There is a bright side

I can see it far away

But it is there

Hiding behind the mountains

Waiting for the right time

To pop out

My Little Toe

I have no idea how this poem came to me. I know it was while I was researching Surrealism, I just have no idea what triggered it. Probably just something random that came into my mind that I loved.

My Little Toe

If you find him

Let me know

For I have lost him

My little toe

The Moon and the Tree

I was doing a self-study of Surrealism while I was at a community college over the summer. After I finished studying for an hour or two, I left to go home. On the way out of the library I saw a picture of a moon and the poem just came to me.

The Moon and the Tree

The fingernail moon tilted

And fell towards the earth

Falling face first

Shrinking and collapsing

Into the space

Between you, me,

And the tree

Dissolving Within

This poem i wrote over the summer about a girl who i was "in love" with. Whether or not I was really in love or not is a mystery to us all. It is my first (and so far only) poem to be published in a book. So far, no one has been told who I wrote this poem about, and I plan to keep it that way.

EDIT: Ok now I think overall two people know who it was about, but that is it. And I've realized that I don't believe you can fully be in love with someone until you are with them in a relationship, but this girl is the person who has gotten so much emotion from me that I was as close to being fully in love with her as I possibly can without being in a relationship with her. So take away the quotes around the term 'in love' up in the first paragraph, it's better that way.

Dissolving Within

I want to see you

Once again in my life

For the image of you

Is dissolving within my heart