Dyrwen
01-24-2004, 03:19 AM
I happen to repost what I post on my own group message board here for further analyzation, incase anyone visits that site too...heh.
Was watcing a John Travolta movie "Micheal" and this set of lines hit me and I had to write them down into a poem. So, I made it. Little did I know it would be a metaphor of my actual drawn arts through a literary art; but it was a nice suprise. Seemed a little obvious but I suppose you still have to think a little to get a point from it.
My Statue
Every night I sat and longed for love,
feeling deep down it was all so real,
but everytime I heard it described, it was so surreal.
So I crouched down each day and spilled out thoughts,
onto a canvas, or page, or note where I ought not.
Although the happiness made by that surreal reflection,
was always so much more fufilling than my love's affection.
I'm left with my own life in a hopeless fight,
knowing every day I'll survive till the end of this night.
Once I scratched out what I felt and all I knew,
it left the paper bloody from what I had saw in you.
Splattered accross that wall I left apart of me,
little did I know you'd get a chance to see.
Viewing all that I am and what I have been,
seeing my aspirations expand and a mind that you can stand.
It all left me without too much to hold onto here,
as I left apart of myself on you,
when you once came near.
Now I make lines in the sand to stop more of the same,
everytime I see you come,
off I run to my abstract plane where it is not plain.
Where I am myself alone with it all,
captured by the simplicity that is held in the fall.
The finished product of my life's ambition lies before you,
or was it only a lie that you came forward to buy?
Even I cannot know because of my fear,
slowly disappearing from thought as I divulge my mind,
getting so far away to stop you from getting here.
In this time I run, I cannot see where,
only because my abstract lanes cannot be seen,
and all that I am, lies in your dream.
Far from my reach and hopeful capture,
here I sit for you, as still as a statue.
Was watcing a John Travolta movie "Micheal" and this set of lines hit me and I had to write them down into a poem. So, I made it. Little did I know it would be a metaphor of my actual drawn arts through a literary art; but it was a nice suprise. Seemed a little obvious but I suppose you still have to think a little to get a point from it.
My Statue
Every night I sat and longed for love,
feeling deep down it was all so real,
but everytime I heard it described, it was so surreal.
So I crouched down each day and spilled out thoughts,
onto a canvas, or page, or note where I ought not.
Although the happiness made by that surreal reflection,
was always so much more fufilling than my love's affection.
I'm left with my own life in a hopeless fight,
knowing every day I'll survive till the end of this night.
Once I scratched out what I felt and all I knew,
it left the paper bloody from what I had saw in you.
Splattered accross that wall I left apart of me,
little did I know you'd get a chance to see.
Viewing all that I am and what I have been,
seeing my aspirations expand and a mind that you can stand.
It all left me without too much to hold onto here,
as I left apart of myself on you,
when you once came near.
Now I make lines in the sand to stop more of the same,
everytime I see you come,
off I run to my abstract plane where it is not plain.
Where I am myself alone with it all,
captured by the simplicity that is held in the fall.
The finished product of my life's ambition lies before you,
or was it only a lie that you came forward to buy?
Even I cannot know because of my fear,
slowly disappearing from thought as I divulge my mind,
getting so far away to stop you from getting here.
In this time I run, I cannot see where,
only because my abstract lanes cannot be seen,
and all that I am, lies in your dream.
Far from my reach and hopeful capture,
here I sit for you, as still as a statue.