RYL Forums - Starlight's Poetry

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Starlight's Poetry

Stoplights of Life
The stop light shining
long before the go,
only stopping before slowing
to a halted yellow glow.

On that red rest,
all things seem to stop.
The tanks of the cars,
the beat of our speed,
and the stress of all breaths.

Thoughts come across,
a filling of contrast
stuck in between.
These moments are rare,
where we can sit and just think -
dreading the changing
of outlook on things.

Then in a flash,
seconds only recently passed,
a green going light
goes past our only path.

The tanks wake up,
the speed builds beat,
and labored breathing is
clearly in heat.

Red asks for rest,
yellow needs calm,
and green urges go.
Red, Yellow, Green -
a stoplight of life.

Spoiled In The Ways I Hate
"Look at her, she's got everything!"
I hear upon tuning in their whispers.
"Spoiled brat!"
yelling echoing through hallowed halls.

Pushing up to the walls,
punching in at the gut,
insults flying off their tongue -
its their well preferred
method of revenge,
aimed against a girl
who's done nothing but say thanks.

Pain is stabbing,
tears plummeting down.
They only sneak peaks at my outsides,
never taking any time
to take a look at the inner heart.
Never trying to understand,
that what I've got is not exactly what I want.

All the teasers want my useless gifts,
valued only by a dollar sign.
I hear them shrinking,
in sheer jealousy.

Why can't they
escape their blindness,
and gain the ability to see
All I want is life to be alright,
to have the lives they don't know they've got.

Last Few Seconds
Sleep be slipping,
breathing so beaten,
struggles long strangled;
life is losing
mentality mourned in mops.

Cold and crisp,
the breeze blows by,
stabbing the skin
of scarred somber souls.

Darkness dominates
these desolated days.
Blindness a bomb,
bleak backdrops
only lonely lasers
longing leaps away.

Pills are pounding,
razors ringing,
an hourglass halting.
Hope houses healing,
Hell hiding their
easily enjoying entrance.

Comments please, more coming soon

i was very impressed with both, but the stoplights piece was a brilliant metaphor. the ending has a touch of rest and unrest in the poem that adds emphasis and clarity of the whole poem. these are awesome. DAMN...lol... that's what the poets in my city say when a poem rocks...so no worries "damn" is a good thing :P

Thank you so much for your lovely compliments, WickedPoet, they mean a lot to me. I honestly dislike anything I write, so knowing that other people enjoy makes me quite happy. Here's another for you to look at, hopefully more people will comment.

Last Few Seconds
Sleep be slipping,
breathing so beaten,
struggles long strangled;
life is losing
mentality mourned in mops.

Cold and crisp,
the breeze blows by,
stabbing the skin
of scarred somber souls.

Darkness dominates
these desolated days.
Blindness a bomb,
bleak backdrops
only lonely lasers
longing leaps away.

Pills are pounding,
razors ringing,
an hourglass halting.
Hope houses healing,
Hell hiding their
easily enjoying entrance.

i never understood aliteration any or how it made a poem unique and all, but i gotta admit this one kinda struck a chord with me cause i finally understood the contents of the poem instead of the power of it being pulled away by the repeated sounds of the read. and without further gilding the lily...i'll end this with a little aliteration of my own lol....

perfectly produced piece :D lol... forgive me. it was my first shot at it...

Those are all very good.