really bad poetry - you've been warned.

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This website is a jumbled collection of things I enjoy, and an excuse for me to play with colors.
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Jessie's Bad Poetry Archive

One day, I was cleaning my house out and came across something I had almost forgotten about. My poetry. When I was younger, I was never without a notebook and a pen, and I seldom thought seriously of anything aside from literature. If you have found this page and intend to keep reading, please keep in mind that most of these were written by a manic-depressive 16 year old and therefore, probably suck pretty badly. When I re-read some of these, it actually *hurt* they were so bad. But, this is for posterity, and so I offer you a little glimpse of me: contained herein is The good, The bad, and The just plain embarrassing. If you really want to keep going anyways, then have at it. You've been warned. ;)

*I've tried to include the dates, where I actually have them*

021094
Have you ever felt the sun
as it beat against your back,
or the gentle summer rain
as it caressed your face?
Have you ever sat in the shade of a tree
on a warm bed of leaves
and just took in nature?
Have you wept in despair
that you would never meet a dryad,
or dance with Bacchus and his wild girls,
or drink in the sweet morning dew with faeries and fauns?
Have you ever really seen a sunset?
Have you climbed the highest mountain,
scaled the tallest wall,
or crawled thirsting through a desert?
And have you felt the sorrow of our loss?
Do you know what it's like to wake from a dream,
weeping for what you have left behind,
even though it's only a memory of lost bliss
that you never really knew?
And, have you felt, in your soul,
sorrow which cannot be consoled;
Has your heart ever ached,
eclipsed it's threshold for pain?
Have you felt the fire in yourself,
and have you kindled it in others?
Have you known emptiness,
the lack of these things,
and the blindness it gives birth to?
and do you, then, know me?

053096
wounded tide
sweeping away
and far that
holds me
under.
I drown
in your depths
cannot breathe
nor want to
then rise above,
into,
the wind
carries me
to this
i cannot sleep.

(*some things never change. I still can't sleep. which is perhaps why I'm bothering archiving my poetry instead of just burning it.*)

053196
hope against hope
(or reason)
pledges it is true,
confuses the soul;
i am torn in two
but cannot make a whole
in one direction;
edgy sleep did not cure
uncertainty inside
how to lend solution to
this sweetly aching tide?
The heart stays the hand,
and the hand, the pen,
but longs to find some clarity
or definite to send;
but i cannot!
This is the bittersweetest ache,
i should not give, lest i should take,
and yet, i Want, i thirst, i crave,
but I cannot break
dearest trust to either;
to both, I am devoted!
but being thus, untrue to both
and to myself.

062996
insecurity and strangulation;
self-doubt chokes
ability to share with others, lost
replaced with the feeling
that I am sorely lacking
in all respects.
How do I "become"
good enough and
lose myself in normalcy?
where do you buy confidence?
can I get a bushel please,
and a side order of consistency
I don't like it
when the world changes
before my eyes
I am afraid to walk, speak
make eye contact,
there is no stability in the universe I live in;
or maybe the world is constant,
and I am ever-changing?

Some more really bad poetry
|one | two | three |