Scribblings: Poems

Some poetry

"He either fears his fate too much,
"Or his desserts too small;
"Who dares not put it to the touch,
"To win or lose it all."
--The Duke of Montrose

The poems here have been written throughout different times in my life. Some are from as far back as high school, where the teenage angst mode was high.

Others are more recent.

I do not-- and will not-- offer apologies nor will I defend these poems. They are what they are. If you, the gentle reader, do not like them so be it.

What is written cannot be unwritten, what is said cannot be unsaid.

These poems are of my voice, and at one time, they were of my heart, although I am leaving out the really shitty, transparent-as-hell love poems from a long time ago, save one.

The writings are going to all be on this page, without linking to another.

Enjoy, or do not.

The Children

I watch the children laugh and play
No cares, "never grow!" I say.
The innocence, too soon lost,
Ageing is the holocaust.
Life is too short to mourn
But I do, for those just born.
They grow too quickly for my tastes,
Give themselves to bitterness and hate.
Evil is sold in grade school hallways,
That fills my soul with a weight--there always.
What possesses one to corrupt our youth?
Saturday gang wars replace cartoons.
I could wish for help from on high,
But He just looks, and passes by...
Innocence lost, fuel to rage-----
Teenagers locked inside steel cages.
A kindler, gentler nation--the war on drugs
Have both been run by thieves and thugs.
Why, O Children, do you have to grow?
Your losses and trials pain me so.
Some just lose the will to live,
Blood flowing from wrist like water through sieve.
To those I wish to scream and shout,
Don't hold in Anger, let it out!
Yell, fuss, and make a scene,
Suicide--that is obscene.
Alcohol and drugs do not problems solve,
New problems are all that they will cause.
Get drunk, Get stoned, Go out get Laid,
Then the Piper must be paid.
Disease and death for one fun(?) evening,
The Reaper rides, grim scythe gleaming.
I watch the children laugh and play and try--
"Too soon, too soon," I cannot help but cry.

The Wait

Alone I wait,
        Searching,
    for the night to come.
It seems easier,
        Feeling,
    when the night has come.
Emotions are more
        True
    Thoughts are more
        Thoughtful
    for the night, it comes.
Alone I wait,
        searching,
            feeling,
                thinking,
        When the night comes.

Hard Times

The dark flood races,
            burning,
Across my mind
            and my sight
Bringing with it sweet
            Oblivion
Paths of darkness
                kill the light
The red-rimmed
            Blackness
Takes my life
                into the night
Hate like a knife,
Anger-- a sword
The music of my
        Soul
Strikes a solemn
            Chord.

Her

A fleeting glimpse
Of a beautiful smile,
Always makes it worth
My while
To sit back and watch,
Never stepping forth
Not letting her know
How much she is worth--
The world I would tear apart;
It's not every day that I lose my heart.
The one simple thing that I cannot do
Is tell her the words---"I love you."

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	Some poetry "He either fears his fate too much, "Or his desserts too small; "Who dares not put it to the touch, "To win or lose it all." --The Duke of Montrose The poems here have been written throughout different times in my life. Some are from as far back as high school, where the teenage angst mode was high. Others are more recent. I do not-- and will not-- offer apologies nor will I defend these poems. They are what they are. If you, the gentle reader, do not like them so be it. What is written cannot be unwritten, what is said cannot be unsaid. These poems are of my voice, and at one time, they were of my heart, although I am leaving out the really shitty, transparent-as-hell love poems from a long time ago, save one. The writings are going to all be on this page, without linking to another. Enjoy, or do not. The Children I watch the children laugh and play No cares, "never grow!" I say. The innocence, too soon lost, Ageing is the holocaust. Life is too short to mourn But I do, for those just born. They grow too quickly for my tastes, Give themselves to bitterness and hate. Evil is sold in grade school hallways, That fills my soul with a weight--there always. What possesses one to corrupt our youth? Saturday gang wars replace cartoons. I could wish for help from on high, But He just looks, and passes by... Innocence lost, fuel to rage----- Teenagers locked inside steel cages. A kindler, gentler nation--the war on drugs Have both been run by thieves and thugs. Why, O Children, do you have to grow? Your losses and trials pain me so. Some just lose the will to live, Blood flowing from wrist like water through sieve. To those I wish to scream and shout, Don't hold in Anger, let it out! Yell, fuss, and make a scene, Suicide--that is obscene. Alcohol and drugs do not problems solve, New problems are all that they will cause. Get drunk, Get stoned, Go out get Laid, Then the Piper must be paid. Disease and death for one fun(?) evening, The Reaper rides, grim scythe gleaming. I watch the children laugh and play and try-- "Too soon, too soon," I cannot help but cry. The Wait Alone I wait, Searching, for the night to come. It seems easier, Feeling, when the night has come. Emotions are more True Thoughts are more Thoughtful for the night, it comes. Alone I wait, searching, feeling, thinking, When the night comes. Hard Times The dark flood races, burning, Across my mind and my sight Bringing with it sweet Oblivion Paths of darkness kill the light The red-rimmed Blackness Takes my life into the night Hate like a knife, Anger-- a sword The music of my Soul Strikes a solemn Chord. Her A fleeting glimpse Of a beautiful smile, Always makes it worth My while To sit back and watch, Never stepping forth Not letting her know How much she is worth-- The world I would tear apart; It's not every day that I lose my heart. The one simple thing that I cannot do Is tell her the words---"I love you." ©Cameron Wm. Akers, 1989-1998.