Poems

The Raven

Once upon a midnight dreary, while I pondered weak and weary, Over many a quaint and curious volume of forgotten lore, While I nodded, nearly napping, suddenly there came a tapping, As of some one gently rapping, rapping at my chamber door. `'Tis some visitor,' I muttered, `tapping at my chamber door - Only this, and nothing more.'

Ah, distinctly I remember it was in the bleak December, And each separate dying ember wrought its ghost upon the floor. Eagerly I wished the morrow; - vainly I had sought to borrow From my books surcease of sorrow - sorrow for the lost Lenore - For the rare and radiant maiden whom the angels named Lenore - Nameless here for evermore.

And the silken sad uncertain rustling of each purple curtain Thrilled me - filled me with fantastic terrors never felt before; So that now, to still the beating of my heart, I stood repeating `'Tis some visitor entreating entrance at my chamber door - Some late visitor entreating entrance at my chamber door; - This it is, and nothing more,'

Presently my heart grew stronger; hesitating then no longer, `Sir,' said I, `or Madam, truly your forgiveness I implore; But the fact is I was napping, and so gently you came rapping, And so faintly you came tapping, tapping at my chamber door, That I scarce was sure I heard you' - here I opened wide the door; - Darkness there, and nothing more.

Deep into that darkness peering, long I stood there wondering, fearing, Doubting, dreaming dreams no mortal ever dared to dream to dream before But the silence was unbroken, and the darkness gave no token, And the only word there spoken was the whispered word, `Lenore!' This I whispered, and an echo murmured back the word, `Lenore!' Merely this and nothing more.

Back into the chamber turning, all my soul within me burning, Soon again I heard a tapping somewhat louder than before. `Surely,' said I, `surely that is something at my window lattice; Let me see then, what thereat is, and this mystery explore - Let my heart be still a moment and this mystery explore; - 'Tis the wind and nothing more!'

Open here I flung the shutter, when, with many a flirt and flutter, In there stepped a stately raven of the saintly days of yore. Not the least obeisance made he; not an instant stopped or stayed he; But, with mien of lord or lady, perched above my chamber door - Perched upon a bust of Pallas just above my chamber door - Perched, and sat, and nothing more.

Then this ebony bird beguiling my sad fancy into smiling, By the grave and stern decorum of the countenance it wore, `Though thy crest be shorn and shaven, thou,' I said, `art sure no craven. Ghastly grim and ancient raven wandering from the nightly shore - Tell me what thy lordly name is on the Night's Plutonian shore!' Quoth the raven, `Nevermore.'

Much I marvelled this ungainly fowl to hear discourse so plainly, Thouhg its answer little meaning - little relevancy bore; For we cannot help agreeing that no living human being Ever yet was blessed with seeing bird above his chamber door - Bird or beast above the sculptured bust above his chamber door, With such name as `Nevermore.'

But the raven, sitting lonely on the placid bust, spoke only, That one word, as if his soul in that one word he did outpour. Nothing further then he uttered - not a feather then he fluttered - Till I scarcely more than muttered `Other friends have flown before - On the morrow will he leave me, as my hopes have flown before.' Then the bird said, `Nevermore.'

Startled at the stillness broken by reply so aptly spoken, `Doubtless,' said I, `what it utters is its only stock and store, Caught from some unhappy master whom unmerciful disaster Followed fast and followed faster till his songs one burden bore - Till the dirges of his hope that melancholy burden bore Of "Never-nevermore."'

But the raven still beguiling all my sad soul into smiling, Straight I wheeled a cushioned seat in front of bird and bust and door; Then, upon the velvet sinking, I betook myself to linking Fancy unto fancy, thinking what this ominous bird of yore - What this grim, ungainly, gaunt, and ominous bird of yore Meant in croaking `Nevermore.'

This I sat engaged in guessing, but no syllable expressing To the fowl whose fiery eyes now burned into my bosom's core; This and more I sat divining, with my head at ease reclining On the cushion's velvet violet lining that the lamp-light gloated o'er, But whose velvet violet lining with the lamp-light gloating o'er, She shall press, ah, nevermore!

Then, methought, the air grew denser, perfumed from an unseen censer Swung by angels whose faint foot-falls tinkled on the tufted floor. `Wretch,' I cried, `thy God hath lent thee - by these angels he has sent thee Respite - respite and nepenthe from tha memories of Lenore! Quaff, oh quaff this kind nepenthe, and forget this lost Lenore!' Quoth the raven, `Nevermore.'

`Prophet!' said I, `thing of evil! - prophet still, if bird or devil! - Whether tempter sent, or whether tempest tossed thee here ashore, Desolate yet all undaunted, on this desert land enchanted - On this home by horror haunted - tell me truly, I implore - Is there - is there balm in Gilead? - tell me - tell me, I implore!' Quoth the raven, `Nevermore.'

`Prophet!' said I, `thing of evil! - prophet still, if bird or devil! By that Heaven that bends above us - by that God we both adore - Tell this soul with sorrow laden if, within the distant Aidenn, It shall clasp a sainted maiden whom the angels named Lenore - Clasp a rare and radiant maiden, whom the angels named Lenore?' Quoth the raven, `Nevermore.'

`Be that word our sign of parting, bird or fiend!' I shrieked upstarting - `Get thee back into the tempest and the Night's Plutonian shore! Leave no black plume as a token of that lie thy soul hath spoken! Leave my loneliness unbroken! - quit the bust above my door! Take thy beak from out my heart, and take tha form from off my door!' Quoth the raven, `Nevermore.'

And the raven, never flitting, still is sitting, still is sitting On the pallid bust of Pallas just above my chamber door; And his eyes have all the seeming of a demon's that is dreaming, And the lamp-light o'er him streaming throws his shadow on the floor; And my soul from out that shadow that lies floating on the floor Shall be lifted - nevermore!

By : Edgar Allan Poe

Richard Cory

Whenever Richard Cory went downtown
We people on the pavement looked at him:
He was a gentleman from sole to crown,
Clean favored, and imperially slim.

And he was always quietly arrayed,
And he was always human when he talked;
But still he fluttered pulses when he said,
“Good morning,” and he glittered when he walked.

And he was rich – yes richer than a king,
And admirably schooled in every grace:
In fine, we thought that he was everything
To make us wish that we were in his place.

So on we worked, and waited for the light,
And went without the meat, and cursed the bread:
And Richard Cory, one calm summer night,
Went home and put a bullet through his head.

By : Edwin Arlington Robinson

Tired

How many times must I
try to sleep before I
die and not even I can
weep?

By : Charles

Sometimes

Sometimes people try
Sometimes people try to cry.
Sometimes people try
Sometimes people try to die.
Sometimes people wish
Sometimes people wish for death
Sometimes people wish for one last breath.
Sometimes comes a lot does it not?

By : Charles

Inside

Each day I “live” in this world I die a little more inside.
I wish I knew why I always try to hide.
What any person can see in me.
Even I wish I could be set free.

By: Charles

Void

I have a void inside of me
and
I just can’t let be
or
one day it will consume me.

I hope I can face this void and see
what
truly lies inside of me
and
hopefully it will be a better
me.

By : Charles

Lights

I saw lights once, when I was a child I saw
the “light” in everyone and everything. But now I
see nothing but "darkness" and hate.
I wish someone could truly relate.
I don’t understand why the “lights” are gone.
But I know I must try to go on.

By : Charles

Happy

I never knew that happiness could be found inside.
I never knew that my happiness could hide.
Now it has a free ride.
To be shown outside.

By : Charles

Pain

I hide my pain like the moon on a cloudy night
only rarely coming into sight.

By : Charles

The Sun

The hot sun burns bright
just before dying into night
to battle the moon in a glorious fight.

By : Charles

This World

I stand all alone in this world
being so dazed and confused
wondering why people are so cruel
asking when will the hatred end
hoping that love will win through.

By : Charles

Life
Struggle Vitality
Trying wishing crying
The sum of experience and actions
Mortality

By : Charles

Learning

I wish people would learn
from what has gone on before,
not to judge, hate or make war.
Maybe if we learned soon the
world could heal its wounds.
if not we all might end up in tombs.

By : Charles

Ancient

In the shadows does it hide
ancient, strong, and wise.
Waiting for the day when it can arise
and take the world by surprise.

By : Charlie

Fire

Fires is suppose to burn
to make you yurn.
But a fire can be put out
and you give one last shout!

By : Charles

A new Beginning

Most people think of it as an end,
and some people even fear it.
But death is not an end but
a new beginning.

By : Charles

Why

Why should I hide?
Why should I run?
Why should I have to fight just to live?
Why can’t they see,
that they’re just like me?

By : Charles

Hiding

Wake up, get ready, put up a wall
Try to conceal your imperfections
Cuz if you don’t, rumors will spread like an infection.
Then your reputation is tarnished along with your pride
and you just feel hurt. You try to hide this too, then it all
consumes you from the inside out.

By : Charles

Mirror Image

You stare into the mirror and see
someone you don’t know. You smash
the mirror hoping the image will go. But
you have already been shown, just who you
really are and now it might even scar.

By : Charles

People

Some people rush and run
other people just live life for fun
and other people wish life would end
but all these people need is a good friend.

By : Charles

Hate

The world is full of hate
Everyone always has to discriminate
punk, jock, nerd, straight or gay
why does it really matter anyway?
Does it make people feel secure
when they insult and make others feel inferior?
Time to stand up and say enough is enough
and let the world know that we’re through
with all this hate stuff.

By : Charles

It was me

I took a look outside
and said it must have been other's pride.
Then I took a glance inside
and found a fact that I just could not hide.
I realized that others were not to blame
but that it was I who should be shamed.
I've been so ignorant and so blind
but now I see : It was me.

Going

I wish I had the power to see what others can.
Try as I might it does not go as planed.
I seat and wonder what people see.
They tell me things but I do not agree.
They tell me I’m a good person and cool.
I think I hate the way I play the fool.
I wish I could just hurry up and go
So everyone’s lives could grow.

By : Charles

My Role

Don’t talk to me like I’m stupid, like I don’t understand.
I know what to do and I sure as hell know how to plan.
Just cuz I’m young does not make me a fool.
I refuse to be used by you like some fucking tool.
You tell me how to act and what not to do.
And this is what I have to say to you.
I am no longer yours to control.
I just need my space to find my role.

By : Charles

An old Picture

We’re like that old picture up on the wall.
We used to be close but now with time we begin to fall.

The paint chips and the frame breaks.
We all seem to make the biggest mistakes.

We all see it begin to fall apart.
But we no longer have the heart.

Old pictures can be restored
But at what cost will we walk through that door?

By : Charles

The fault is not my own

I used to think it was all my fault.
I would sit and cry all my tears and choke upon the salt.
Now I see that I am not always wrong.
Now I see that my life can move on.
I now have some room to breathe
So I can really just be me.

By : Charles

Wounds

The wounds you gave me cut so deep.
I would scream and shout but mostly weep.
Some nights I can not even try to sleep.

These wounds are not ones that you can see.
But still they hurt and still they “bleed”.
Never the less with out these wounds I just would not be me.

By : Charles

“You”

You think that nothing is your fault and that you
are never wrong.
You find ways to try and play the victim and sing
your sad little song.

Some people believe what you say and what you do.
But I and others have had a glimpse at the real you.
You lie to those you claim to be friends with.
But now you’ll be alone and that’s how I end this.

By: Charles

Friends For ever

All the words you spoke
All the lies you told
You always seemed to be so distant and so cold
All the stories we had and the times we shared
It never really seemed like you even cared
We used to be so close
But now you’re just so hard to approach
Our friendship lasted so long
But now it’s ended and you’re gone.

By: Charles

A book

Behind my smiling face and happy look
there is a painful and unhappy book.

The pages are linded with my fears and doubts
My hope is that some of these pages can be torn
out.

But most are there 2 stay
and haunt me every day.

By : Charles

Trying my best

I try my best to be there for my friends
But sometimes it seems like they just pretend.

I give them my heart and
Some just tear it apart.

I care so much and I hope they see
That I’ll love them forever and I hope they love me.

By : Charles

Silently Screaming

I walk through my day and I play my part
But nothing really gets into my heart.

I stand in front of you all
Almost ready to take that big fall.

Inside I scream it, inside I scream all day long
That one day my screaming will turn into a song.

By : Charles

Nothing seems just right.

My world never seems just right
I hate the day but love the night

But still my life has no meaning
I don’t even know what I’m feeling

I wanted to be something “big” in this world
But now I wish this mortal coil would unfurl.

By : Charles

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