So, Here’s My Bad Poetry

I did a poetry course last year because I’m finishing up my Communications degree. I had to put together a portfolio and honestly I’m not a big poetry fan so I thought I’d share my poems because I don’t care about them but think I did okay:

I Wish To Wake Up

I wish to wake up again.

To be here

but not there.

I wish to walk upon this lush earth,

and feel the petals curl through my toes.

I thought I could be taught

how to wake up again.

To stand up in the blooming field

And proclaim, “I am here!”

I wish to wake up again.But I can’t seem to drag…

        my feet out of the bed.

To The Beach

If I could drag my feet out of bed…

i would crawl my way to the beach.

I would dive into the waves even if I bled.

i’d wash away to a place no-one can reach.

I would love to curl my toes in the sand

as the heat swelters over me like a swarm.

And then in the shrill waves I would stand

where no-one could ever, ever stay warm.

No matter how much you cry out, it’s already done.

i shall go and you shall stay, my love.

After all, these waves weigh a ton.

i’m where sun’s rays can’t find me: a dead, silent dove.

All around me ashes burn with a metallic smell,

        so, I will accept that I might go to hell.

The Smell’s Stitched Into My Clothes

The smell’s stitched into my clothes.

as the ashes burn in the orange flame

i stoke the red fire until it’s slowly tame.

The smell’s stitched into my clothes.

under my warm skin their ashes hide

as they fizzle down into the freezing tide.

The smell’s stitched into my clothes.

even as the leaves blow through the gale

their paling faces seep into the sky’s glowing veil.

their smiling mouths are a stitched-together lie,

as you stand over them for your final good-bye.

The smell’s stitched into my clothes.

The smell’s stitched into my clothes.

as I stood over your body, I pitied my strength and

pitied their fear. We now enter rows.

The smell’s stitched into my clothes.

         Tell them: embrace life, live free.

         And please, straighten your bows.

You Are Galaxies of Magic

You glow in the frost-bitten light

as ashes dance upon your lips.

I know you have galaxies of magic

hidden beneath your diming skin.

The stars leap through the cosmos

as blood courses through your veins.

In every breath, in every cell

the planets will twirl through your hair.

The moons swirl around celestial bodies

while your skin is as cold as this white plane.

        What a beautiful sight you were.

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