| My Musings |
| This page will contain all the poems, thoughts, and musings that I have written and kept over the past four years. I can't say whether they are good or bad (that's for you to judge, anyway), they are merely one more part of myself put up for display on this site. Some are very depressing, some are whimisical, some are just what they are. Please, if any of these poems influence you or make you upset, stop reading and talk to someone. Some of them are very dark, but I made it through those times, and you can too. If you don't like them, then you don't have to stay. Enjoy! |
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| Those Songs Love songs are sung, slow songs meant to celebrate current love, or mourn the inevitable love lost. Either way, I can relate to neither. That part of me is empty, hollow. No true love has graced my life. Not even reciprocated infatuation. Any love felt by me has always been one sided in it's intensity... Never returned enough. Sorrow for the hollow space threatens to overcome my thoughts, but I must not let it. For I know, one day, the space will be filled. And then, I will know just what those songs are about. 02/01 |
| OUTBURST The trickle of blood- red tears of the soul shedded in a thin stream dripping and moving so slow Like a dam, barely open holding the creek back The water slowly builds Concrete walls begin to crack The trickle becomes a fountain Waiting to be released The barriers hold, but weaken As the build-up fails to cease Finally, the dam gives way And the pained water pours out The soul is emptied of it's burden As you cry, shake, and shout. 04/00 |
| Why? My world crumbles as I look around peer into the corners of my dark mind I wish for sleep darkness throughout And I wish for light to shine through the barriers of patterns I hate the pain associated with things great and small Is it all me? I think not, but then I question. Things are skewed and erroneous and I don't know what is right. Who am I, and Why am I? 03/00 |
| Near-pure Rhythm my belly has rhythm it jumps and rolls with the movement of the near-pure life inside reaching and stretching kicking and rolling tumbling acrobatics for the sheer innocent pleasure of it all oblivious to anything other than his own warm secure cozy unrealistic world. 08/99 |
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| Every Day Every Day is pointless routine, sitting in front of the idiot box, the occasional appointment in the outside world, with which I have lost considerable touch. Through it all hiding and withdrawing, the same old game replayed, Every Day Things have changed to remain the same. Everything is kept behind the smiles of politeness, respect, courtesy, and deception Loathing, anger, sorrow, darkness, All prisoners of a false demeanor Used throughout my life, throughout Every Day 03/99 |
| Untitled my life is a coin two sides to everything Unity forced by the form The fight for dominance A war in my mind Leaves my soul torn Always a problem Never a solution I am so incredibly worn. 11/98 |
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| All these poems were written by Lianna. If you wish to use them, (non-comercially) just give due credit, please. |
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