The Poetic Revolution!!!

[size=200]The Truth[/size]By DWC (pronounced DubZ)

Why did it have to come to this
All this suffering and pain
Where the fuck is the sunshine
Can someone please stop the rain

You said you’d give me life
So why am I still dead;
you said one day I’ll wake up
But I see my self in bed

You said you’ll do anything
To make me a better man
You said you educate me
Wasn’t that your master plan

You said you never give up
You always try to succeed
But these trials and tribulations
Are just killing the dream

I thought you said you never leave me
Never leave me alone
But you can’t answer me now
You’re in your Eternal Home

It gets so hard on me at times
And I swear to you I always try
Man if I could be a bird right now
I’d just spread my wings and fly

Oh the mask , yea I still have it
The world can’t see me dying
All they see is this happy go lucky kid
They’re too blind to see me crying

How do I see my future?
I see it alone
Everyone I ever loved and cared for, left me
they’re all gone

And am I wrong
For thinking like this
So much hostility and anger
My heart feels like its been cut 1000 times
And dumped in a pool of vinegar

And right now I’m in a mental state
My physical is not even alive
I’m probably floating in the clouds right now
And my body is just waiting for me to arrive

To tell you the truth I’m a spectrum
Who doesn’t want to exist
I don’t want to be David
But at times I can’t resist

And I don’t want you to see this as a Poem
You don’t even have to like what I’ve written
It’s just that maybe your eyes were too close
And it would be better for you to listen

But yo I’m tired now
Try to think about what I had to say
And analyze me sometime
You’ll see the real me come out

Just a little day by day

I really liked the form and pretty much liked the content dwc.

Thank you very much Marshall McDaniel. Here is another one I wrote.

[size=150]Free[/size]by DWC

Free-write… Free-write… Free-write…
Writing to free the mind. From all wrong inside.
Inside of me, inside of you, inside of us, inside of this.
This that we so blissfully reference as life, as love.
Love one-sided because it never tends to show us any emotions.
Emotions are what make us human. We are not what we eat we are what we grieve.
Grieve what we don’t understand or what we choose not to comprehend… un-choosable change.
Change ourselves from Prisoners Of War to Warriors Who Imprison the Demons within.
Within… within… within…

Free-writing… Free-writing… Free-writing…
Free to write my thoughts, my emotions, my visions, my way of living.
Living free? Define free. Are we not mentally sexed reproducing images and thoughts not our own.
Our own? Maybe. But entirely…? NO! How so if we are limited to the amount of choices.
Choices which we don’t own. Living free? Maybe. Don’t we have the freedom of saying what we want?
Don’t we have the freedom of buying what we need? Don’t we have the freedom of knowing the Truth.
The truth is no! Freedom has No Boundaries! No Consequences! We are so far…
Far so are we from freedom, that it has become unrealistic, ineffable, and mentally unconceivable.



I really liked this line

Free has an interesting structure. i like the content too…
the line that marshall highlighted has interesting capitals.

There are things in life that only the poets see…

I like rhythm in the poems i write, a certain cadence or something. The poem annabelle lee by Edgar allan Poe probably best exemplifies it. The thing i don’t like in my poems is that the theme is usually simple and i don’t say much.

there is nothing wrong in that. Nothing wrong in that at all. I have different styles. I went to a major part of my life where all I wrote sounded angry and sort of like a rap. Then I get all Edgar Allen Poeish and try to use old english/shakespere type language to express myself. Other times I might mix the two and come out with something unique that people say isn’t poetry.

But there is nothing wrong with saying absolutly nothing in a poem. Because I’ve seen that your sub-concious will convey a message that you didn’t even intended in saying.

I’ve had that happen in conversations. Your subconscious comes through with something your conscious never intended. It’s wierd. wyrd in the old (maybe middle) English.

We sit here and write
The perils of our plight
Yet what we must get right
Is our visionary insight

For you see
Am sure we agree
Such issues of humanity
So perplexed our views be

When atonements may we try
Still unbeknowing as to why
Further issues than over the sky
Always are there those close by

Those maybe such as you
Who share not yet are of same view
Why issues posed sure been through
Yet life is what I ask be true

We live we breathe what does this mean
Seems to me its always been
So as such then one should deem
As to why this constant is seen

In reply to a poetic cry
I speak to you through words I try
To communicate some meaning why
Our living should not we deny

For it seems some ways we’re blessed
Of course there’s times that so do test
Yet we of spirit should contest
That which life is living at it’s best

For we thinkings how so we agonise
For we communicate in ways so wise
As wisdom holds in many ways contrives
That of our being and not our demise

Tis sure to see that lyrically
There is some meaning literarlly
To be found far from standard decree
Only held in those felt feelings so passionately

So to recap
Where i’m at
Is pretty much where your sat
That being done that, suffered to long, for what ? Not wronged so I sing my song, be strong.

I’ve got another poem from my dear cousin.


As I sit and contemplate these stressful thoughts in my mind
I’m interrupted by a beauty queen, which passed me by
Her eyes shine like the sun when there are no clouds in the sky
Her smile lifts up my spirit, and heals all of my cries

I look at her and ponder on the sweetness trapped in her lips
I’m hypnotized from the thought, of just one kiss
To hold her body, close to mine all through the night
So close and so tight, she can feel my heart trying to take flight

I want to speak to her, tell her what she wants to here
I want to feel her, every inch from her toes to her hair
I want to make her feel interesting, beautiful and appealing
I want her to feel me and state, there’s no greater feeling

I present to you my inner self, my outer self, and myself as a whole
You’re my best friend, my soul, until I lose my self-control.

Personally i thought your poem was really cliche. The title of the poem was Her, so i think you should describe ‘Her’. I really like the way you tied in fantasy to reality.