Poetry Igloo

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Fighting for. . .

Running through the forest fires leaping and bounding over gorges and diving under the fears which shoot over head, this is not war zone but the mind and home of sanity.

Sanity has a home in you and me every person's puzzle is different, and only they can solve it as only they hide away the answer they already know and hold deep within their hearts.

Neglected answers hiding behind the eyes and shocking the heart, we feel these pains within our chests and make us weak, stripping of clothing and armour built up from confidence, we feel naked among each other no secrets hidden and all on display.

No longer immortal but vulnerable and feared, we feel our weakest, without companion, without hope, without reason we feel nothing worth fighting for.

Nothing to save.
Nothing brave.
And no one to crave.

Without love we are nothing, but hopes and dreams begging to belong but not always deserving, sometimes found to be serving others in need, more deserving and entitled to happiness which you've been denied.

Seeking the life which eludes and hides away from those who deserve it, upset kicks in to comfort like an upset stomach, dragging you down and making things worse.

The heart cringes in pain and breaths become sharp, these are the days we dread, with a feeling so bad and a suicidal heart, the head dreams for the day a reason for life, tears through the skull and shines forth the light.

The love for a dream long lost, the desires realized and the undeserved left behind, left to those next in line to serve the entitled.

To be entitled to happiness, love and greater things beyond your dreams, all becomes grey and dull as lives and loves pass on, we fall deeper into the neglect of the insane war which we are all soldiers in, no matter what we desire.

With each life shot down in an instant dreams, desires, wishes, hopes and all leak into life, like tears from heart break, they leaves us alone, cold and crying for comfort, only ever to receive the inevitable suffering which always arrives despite the choice which is made.

Reaching the dream, failing the goal, falling into the darkness or reaching the light, with the edge of a smile or frown our hearts know it’s coming but the heads remain stuck in denial, until the darkness fills the void in our hearts and our minds cave in dragging us into the end.
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A poem for someone special long ago

Twas many years ago I met thee most enchanting being this world ever thrust into my path.

Nothing more or less could be done but stare in awe at what stood before me.

The most perfectly sculpted living creature with curves so smooth and skin so bright it almost glistened from the sun’s warm glow.

Like an angel minus the wings plus the beauty and grace subtract the purity equaled love at first sight in mine eye.

A mere mortal I find myself wondering through life wondering if thy being ever notice me if my lips never open to speak.

Without thought and hesitation like a greedy pirate my hands already turning white with tight grip I thrust my words upon the rounded ears to charm thee and give her the love she made me feel from first glance.

Thee and me smile a week later as our eyes meet among the brisk winter weather, happily followed by the best experience a man and a woman can experience in public together.

A kiss
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Locked Away

(Originally was written for a monologue)

Why are the beasts caged, while monsters run the world? Every one of them more monstrous than the last, and yet I’m branded as the freak. Unable to express myself, unable to be myself, all that is and ever will be me remains behind closed doors. Real danger walks the streets day and night, it looks it’s self in the eye, and still feels no remorse, no guilt for all its crimes. Deep inside pain cries out to lash out, but nothing virtuous ever has come from it. Yet every time they lash out, I’m the one who suffers. Being pushed aside, being filled with anger, rage. Followed by the crushing depression which surrounds me, just like the steely thick bars of the metaphorical cage they've locked me in. But why can’t I get out? It’s just a metaphor, isn't it? My attempts to reach out through the narrow bars have been rejected, reflected in my direction with a fist, instead of an open hand. Even sheep follow a socially acceptable order in this world of chaos, while I’m apparently the putrid, vile wolf, that’s the beast who chooses to feast. If they’d let me loose to capture me they’d need more than a noose, becoming the beast I truly hideaway beneath this quilt of skin. Letting the doors break off their hinges and rip through the poor fragile structure which embodies me. No longer being locked away, but set free.

No one wants to be locked up forever. Stuck on one side of the glass, surrounded by the monsters that control your fate. I should be free to make my own decisions and not have monstrous critics putting me down and standing in my way. Its time I expressed myself fully, let my feelings flood out and wash my inner demons away into the darkness, away from the surface of my mind. Put off the change until a time when it’s required. I may be troubled but I’m still together enough to understand what’s right and what’s wrong, enough so to know what this world is crying out for is a rebellion.
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Cages

I am locked far away within a cage.
This cage has thick rusty bars.
There is no light.
I am forever stuck in darkness.
The heat is rising and my heart is cold.
My mind is scrambled.
I feel forgotten.
Beneath the shards of earth.
Away from society.
Where I belong.

I desire my previous cage.
Out alone in the darkness.
Steel thin fence.
Electrified.
Closing in or open wide.
Weakened heart beating wild.
Every time I reach.
Every time a shock to my heart.
Society on one side.
I on the other.
Put in my place.

Finally I am home.
Locked from society.
From life.
From a civilized society.
The world is safe again.
My lips never to open.
My words never to spill.
My emotions never to be understood.
My eyes always open.

Yours forever closed.
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Creation of me

Social Awkwardness crippled me and chronic loneliness damaged me.

Using mind judo I flipped it onto it's face

At the other end I discovered inspiration.
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Being Scared

Living life is scary.

So anything else we do in each and every day is more than we expected we ever could do.
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Pains of the heart

These keep coming from my lips as lyrics despite me not having any musical ability at all. I think it might work as a song if the right tune is found. These words however are very powerful to me and I feel they express my true feelings currently as it hurt to bring them out and write them down.

I don't want my faith to leave me.
I dunno where my fate will lead me.
I'm holding on to hopes.
I'm screaming out for dreams.

My heart is crying out.
My tears are seeping in.
My eyes are burning up.
I dunno where to look.

The weather outside is changing.
My feelings inside are not.
The trees grow older and older.
My heart falls weaker and weaker.

My pain continues to grow.
As the day continues to fade.
The clouds above are shifting.
My views on the world are not.

I can't change who I am.
I'm a lover deep down within.
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The Snowman

Each day I go walking.
I feel the breeze blow past me.
My finger tips grow numb.
A crimson red becomes my nose.

The snow lands around me.
Ice attempts to trip my feet.
Weather around me settles.
Leaves crack under each step.

Howling past my ears I hear the wind.
I feel the stiffness arise in my joints.
With my eyes I see a filthy white blanket.
In my lips I taste the coldness of a winter wonderland.

The hairs which cover my head sweep back.
My cheeks grow tough resisting the wind.
Numbness has overwhelmed my fingers.
The only warmth I feel comes from within.

Muscles stiffen making movement difficult.
Pushing back harder the breeze creates tears.
My torso begins to freeze.
The blood inside comes to a halt.

Feeling, is freed from the body.
Movement seems but a distant memory.
Internal organs come to a pause.
The heart slowly dying.

Snow begins to settle upon its latest victim.
A human shaped figure.
The snow begins to grow.
Features become rounded.

Children play with the newest of snowmen discovered.
Placing a carrot stick nose and cold coal eyes.
Brown stick arms and a scarf to keep warm.
A top hat to finish.

The snowman stands still.
Feeling no more.
No pain.
No sense.
No worry.

The snowman stands still.
Moving no more.
Breathing no more.
Living no more.

The snowman stands still.
Seeing no more.
Hearing no more.
Tasting no more.

Loving no more with a heart now of ice.
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Ok so this one may not quite be a poem but its truthful and honest and maybe even repetitive. I'd like to also say I couldn't have ever written such a thing without help from the people in the world.

Smile

Whats the reason for a smile?

A smile is an upside down frown.
Muscles pulling at the edges of the mouth to force it into what it is.
Simply a sign from the person to the rest of the world.
An indication of something

But what creates one?

MrShadowblademaster
I smile because im happy

Fiobear  
Music makes me smile. My family friends and funny things also watching anime or reading. But I also smile to let others not worry.

Mike.svk
Friends

bunbunny
I rarely smile, I mostly laugh... but when I smile it's mostly an awkward polite gesture... and I smile for photos.

sleepyheadjamie
Tumblr

Anonymous
When my husband comes home.

Amanda
beauty all around and remembering all the things i am grateful in my life for

Anonymous Girlfriend
You make me smile

Deathbymanga
Oh, fascination
when my mind is shown new things and is enlightened or shown spine-tingling events

Synch
Compassion. More specifically, when someone goes out of their way for another person while expecting nothing back.

Rosie
Sunshine

Anonymous
Boobs….oh oh what makes me smile…..boobs.

Ryuga
Cute animals.

Myth
I like being alone. That might be an odd thing to smile at, but I find peace and comfort in being alone.

Frosty
I can give a few answers like my friend's happiness
Erm making my girlfriend smile and jokin' around with a pervert

Jerri
The smiles of others.  Poetry.  Music--the right music.  Love.  Profound moments.  Christmas lights.

Frozen
Seeing other people's smile.

Haruhi Tama
perverted things, Cute things, i like jokes

JoyS.
hugs, pancakes, my friends, strangers that are nice, someone random that smiles at me, children, old people, food, tv series, books, comics, manga, guys I like, jokes, cheesy shit, etc

Ange303
My son

TheLadyOfGifts
I smile when I know I can trust people~

Faalstein
Seeing another person out in a storm while I'm indoors. Schadenfreude at it's finest. I could have said something sweet like puppies or getting a gift, but I figure that's more interesting.

Colm
Well Josh, i'd have to say the top things that make me smile are my friends (all of them, you guys included), family, the music i like, making other people smile, and my girlfriend.

Gentleman Steady
Practically everything makes me smile.

What makes me smile is when I have helped other people, made them smile, laugh or feel better. When I've overcome a fear I once held. Discovered a new experience. Created something beautiful and when I've got a smile on my face that's what pushes the smile to grow bigger.

So whats your reason for smiling, one of the above or something else?
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The Gentleman Wolf

Breathing in, breathing out.
The scent of wool, flesh, meat.
Thoughts of dinner brewing in the mind.
Sounds of bleating all around.
A hunger which screams for the fulfillment of food & blood.
Desiring a massacre.
Spilling the innards over the field and bathing in it to cover their snouts and darkened beastly fur.

These are my brothers.
The ones who desire nothing more than to be primitive and bask in their primal urges of sin.
Slaughter the weak.
Devour their soul.
Bathe in their blood.
Fornicate in the night.
Howl at the moon.

Unaccepting of another life form.
Denying its existence.
Removing it piece by piece from the planet.
Enjoying their work like cannibal hit-men who feast upon their victims.
Leaving the woolly carcass behind as a sign to say "we don't want your kind"
But stupidly seeking it.
Craving for the only food that'll ever nourish their poor souls, and create that all superior feeling deep down within for them to carry around as a sign of their non existent and pointless pride, at the murder of a harmless animal.
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Everyday

My writings are scribbles on the page.

Each person who reads or listens to them is given an assortment of tangled up words and threads.

As they reach the end its up to them to unravel the threads.

Up to them to place the words and find their own story.

Find their own meaning and beliefs.

Its up to them to find their own way.

All I can ever do is provide the tools you'll need.

As long as my soul continues to exist I shall continue to write a new chapter every day for that's what life is.
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My Poetry Igloo

I feel safe, I feel warm, I feel pain.
Sitting in my igloo the fire keeps me warm.
Carvings all over the walls.
Words embedded deep down.
Each brick a new poem waiting to be read.
Covered up by all.
Reality around me fading away.
The blanket around me holds me tight to tell me I'll be fine.
Pain reaching inside me holds on tight to remind me there's a real world outside.
My fire nearly goes out from time to time.
Extinguishing my spirit and will to take part in my oncoming fight.
Fright overwhelms me.
Sends my body into shivering.
Teeth begin to chatter.
Fire nearly goes out as pain digs into my chest.
Long, hard, cold and excruciating like an icicle plunging into my chest, or the fingers of the long awaited death.
Foe calling on out, coming on in.
Above the embers of my extinguishing flames the rags of a darkened man linger in my eyes.
Raising up to see the blackened robe once more the embers burn out as I take what could be my very last breath.
Gazing into the cold dead eyes and pearly white teeth of the grinning man, I feel life leak away.
Emotions fall flat.
Hit the ground running.
All around the igloo melts, falling down, like an eraser clearing my mind.
Failure feels imminent.
Struggles are found.
Screaming for a way out, searching for a release.
Frantically clawing at the walls of the mind and even the heart.
Why don't you run every cell within screams.
A surge from the heart pushes forth faith.
Hope rises on up deep down into the mind.
Eyes flicker on open.
This skeletal man's visits have grown tiresome.
Every visit a failure.
None a success.
Standing up tall to face him I cast off my blankets to reveal my body.
Gasping in shock his face finally changes.
For the first time in years his expression of a grin is no longer around.
Few wounds in my hearts, some in the back and one in the eye.
Standing before him I'm partially blind.
Scarred tissue envelops me along with the life long marks from the most devastating of blows.
How are you still breathing the skeletal man asks.
Burning furiously below, my fire bursts back into life.
Refusing defeat.
Pushing his finger in deeper to discover its target.
Stepping forward with a grin on my face I shake my head accepting the pain.
Do you know why your here? I ask looking in through his hollowed out eyes.
To end your life and accept all your failure, the reaper replies.
Continuing the grin liberated from him and slapped on to me, I step closer and closer allowing but another wound to mark deep down in my skin.
No, no that's not the reason at all. I reply with all on display.
Tears streaking down the cheeks and bones shaking in fear.
Your only now here because I let you on in. But now that your here its time I destroy you.
Acceptance of failure is agreeing to die, to let things lie and never look back.
Slamming head into skull the reapers knocked out of existence and the mind of a failure.
Belief returns.
Walls rise up once again the pain still there never to leave, along with the mark of another encounter.
Tugging at the blanket for warmth I raise up the hood and mutter to myself the simplest of words which I know to be true.
"I'll see you once more Mr Reaper, and I'll beat you then too."
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People Say

People say your young and need to experience the world.
People say you need to live your life and travel the world.
People say you don't know what you want and have to find it in the world.
People say you need to go looking for what makes you happy in the world.
People say your desire has to eclipse your fear of the world.
People say you'll never get what you want with a negative outlook on the world.
People say you need to move to find greatness in the world.
People say you need to believe in yourself to find your place in the world.
People say you need to know your limits in this world.
People say you need to love yourself before anyone else can in the world.
People say allot of crap about the world.

I say you need to experience whatever comes your way and come away from it stronger than before.
I say you need to live the life you want to live and only travel where you want to travel.
I say no one ever knows what they want as they always want more so keep your wants and desires ever changing.
I say why look for what makes you happy if you've already found it. Fight for it instead until your goals change.
I say when fear arrives acknowledge it and remember your human, but always strong enough to overcome it and accomplish the greatest of feats.
I say negativity is always there and so it shall stay just learn to keep it at bay and take in healthy doses from day to day.
I say you need to find greatness where ever you seek it. Bravery to be happy with what you've got.
I say your place in the world is where ever you choose to be.
I say your limits are always just out of reach.
I say you need to be happy with who you are before someone else can be happy with you.
I say allot crap too but its all how you look at things in life which determine your thoughts, hopes, dreams, fears, desires and more.
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Rudolph the red nosed

One day I came home to be told I was cold.
Being wintry weather I was frozen to the bone.
Chilled inside and out with a nose so crimson.
My mother smiled and told me like Rudolph I was.

Thinking of the deer in my mind.
I thought how they pulled the sleigh along.
Lifting from the ground up into the sky.
Rising one up to deliver happiness from up so high.

I tried to name the 8 deer who pulled on said sleigh.
Thinking only of the obvious I failed in my quest.
Without help from outside sources I struggled to find those names.
Turning to internet I found them in seconds.

Can you name the deer who pull Santa's sleigh?
Neither can I
If you can well done.
As I looked over them my eyes were stuck on Rudolph for a reason unbeknownst to me.

I soon discovered this reason of reasons.
We shared a feeling within.
Along with a outward passion.
And would one day be seen as the same sort of person.

The only difference between us.
Rudolph was fictional.
I was real.
Realizing this I understood, I could be Rudolph.

Reaching out to help whoever I could in the time of Christmas.
Shining a light to help people in the dark find a way out.
Discover their situation and offer them a hand.
Whenever my nose turned red with the cold, I would step out of my way and break out of the mold.
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Questions

Again this may not quite be a poem but something interesting indeed.

Below are some questions.
These questions need answers as questions often do.
Your answers are different and unique which makes you, you & me, me.

If you could be any animal and colour what would you be, for example a green lion? an orange otter or a simple azure blue billy goat. What would you be?


If given the choice of obtaining one super power what would it be?


If you could be any mythical creature what would you be?


Lastly If possible to have any feature from an animal of your choice grafted on to your body and given full use of what would you have? Wings like an eagle? Claws of a tiger? mane of a lion or tail of a Donkey? What would you choose?


These questions be strange I agree, but may help you discover something different about you looking back on your answers. Maybe you'll see your wise & pure like an owl or courageous and fierce like a tiger. Perhaps your cute and cuddly like an otter or maybe your conflicted and confused. Who knows what you are but you.
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Hinky Puff

What is a hinky puff but two words put together?

Two silly little words arriving beside one another sounding funny and cheering within one's mind
Making up a creature to belong to the name
That is the tricky part.

What is a Hinky Puff I often found myself asking out loud
To be told it was whatever I wanted it to be.

When asking for a description
I was told once again.
Whatever I wanted it to be.

I now know what I want it to be.
But does she know what she wishes it to be?
Does one actually exist?

Can a dreamt up mythical creature ever be more than a few words?
Will a dream ever be more than a dream?
Does a person have to fight for the rest of their life for that one simple thing they desire so much that no one else does?

Will people's eyes ever open to see whats staring them in the face?
Can people live with hopes and dreams which one day might come true?
Do we ever believe that wishing upon a star, praying to god, begging to high heavens or even throwing money down a well will ever provide us with the happiness we feel we desire and deserve?

I know in my heart that we all are fighting for something. I aim to make a hinky puff something real and beautiful so I can one day show that special person who once told me of the magical hinky puff that they do really exist and show it to her.
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Forgotten Dreams

Once I wanted to be an astronaut flying high above the sky at night looking down on the earth.
Dancing among the stars and sitting beside the moon.
I wanted it all too soon.

When I was seven I spent time busy watching James Bond.
Sneaking around corners I wanted to be a spy.
I just realized I'm not ready to die.

When I hit nine I wanted to be a hero.
Super powered and full of pride.
I felt that feeling when I got to the top of the slide.

These were all dreams I once held within my heart.
Wanted with every fibre of my being.
Now only upset is all that I am seeing.
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Miss/ed

The smile only I could bring to the surface.
Hope in her eyes that I saw every time she looked into mine.
Her pulse racing when she was held in my arms.
Beauty in every second of our time together.
Softness in her skin and kindness in her touch.
Colour in her cheeks which always melted my heart but was never expressed.
Electricity in the air whenever we were near each other.
Passion bubbling in the hearts when our eyes met from a distance and a smile was exchanged.
Joy filling her soul from the lowest of points to the highest of highs.
Misunderstandings which led to moments of chaos.
Looking in through each other's eyes the door to the soul and understanding everything.
Realizing just what we had.

These are what I miss/ed.
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Stories Vs Reality

If you can't understand this or find any meaning deep down within, then maybe you haven't been in enough pain yet, taken enough risks or you're eyes are reluctant to see the world around you, or maybe your just too scared to see.

A story.
These are told through many different variations.
About any variety of characters with a series of problems and disorders.
Loner, Misunderstood, Depressed, Lost
These are some of the traits the protagonist holds deep within.
Nervous, Awkward, Scared, Lonely
These are a few more that the others keep within.
This is not about fairy tails but the stories we learn throughout the course of time.

When we learn the past of the stories the characters have lived we discover a new side and look at them differently.
Looking at them from first hand in the present and judging them, we deem them to be this way by their own faults.
This is how reality creeps in, by knowing nothing more than the person at present than the creation through history of that very person.
When we know what created them and how it affected them we feel more for the person & character and want to help in anyway we can but due to being from different realities we fail.

Why can a person look at someone whose been through what we've suffered in a story, a film or a show and feel such a connection, a love, a desire to help and willingness to cuddle and comfort, but in reality they feel none of that and wish to just deal with the present person they know and not their past.

We are told in our lives to not dwell on the past.
But if we are not meant to do so then why grant us with the power to access our memories?
Why allow us to be proud, upset & learn from the memories we make?
Why allow other people to hold you to the mistakes that we make?
When we look into stories of every kind and relate them to reality it breaks the fourth wall.

Breaking the rules of realities is when we feel bad.
Because only when we do so do our eyes reluctantly open but a little more.
Only then can we see hypocrisy in ourselves and fall into depression.
By accepting that fault of ours we give ourselves a choice.
Do we want to remain blinded by our own selfishness and desires of only what we want?
Or do we want to accept what we've done and who we once were, and grow into a person we shouldn't be but a person we want to be and should be instead.

In stories there has and always will be a good and a bad due to the character's eyes you're looking through.
But in life there is no good.
No bad.
No light.
No dark.
No black.
No white.
Just shades of grey scattered all around.

Signs of pain pushing at the soul, and tugging on our brain.
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Matchstick Girl & Sandpaper boy

Once there was girl
Young, sweet & kind
Ready one day to burst into so much more
A raging fire which would create the largest of infernos

Once there was a boy
Young, nice & rough around the edges
Ready to fade away into so much less
A tool to rub away the problems found in others

Looking at burnt out old matches
She saw those who were in mid flame
Desiring that warmth for her own
She reached out to the dearest of men to help find that warmth

Looking at the used up old sand paper men
He saw those who were long gone
Feeling that coldness already for his own
He reached out to try and relinquish that feeling of cold

Touching hands with each other they both grew into a smile
His blunt unhappy humor made her smile
Her smile made his day
Upon that first initial contact between the two a spark was first found

She laughed
He watched
Smiling together they grew close
As others from around opened their eyes they grinned

Meeting families resistance was found
More sparks started to fly
Resistance was lessened
Edges were made smooth

Feeling the roughness vanishing
Sparks started to die
Flames burst into life
The sandpaper boy felt limp

The match stick girl stood strong and lifted him up
Dragging him along behind her whilst leading the way
Wanting him to find his rough edges again
His edges were all now too smooth.

Discovering more the matchstick girl stepped into the darkness
Leaving the sandpaper boy behind her
The coldness began to creep in
Warmth grew within her in the darkness as more light was shed

She grew to smile in the light she found
He grew to hate the dark he was left in
She grew into the light
He grew into the dark

Seeing each other with their now different shades
He had fallen into what he'd never wanted
She had gone for all she'd ever wanted
They had grown apart

The sandpaper boy had lit her on fire
The matchstick girl had worn him down to the bare
He did it for her
She did it for him

Reaching the fire she'd wanted to help her get started
He watched her burn in her new light
She didn't see him growing lost in the dark struggling to find the light
Shades apart

Bathing in the light
Drowning in the dark
Smiling with a new light
Frowning with all in the dark

I was that sandpaper boy
She was my matchstick girl
I used my rough edges to create that spark
She took that spark
And never looked back
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Coconut

If I could be a fruit I'd be a coconut.
A soft fleshy inside
Tough exterior
Small and round
Good for you
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Bridges

What are they for?
Filling the gap and reaching new waters
Finding greener grasses
Discovery

When we break them
There's a chance at repair
A desire to build it back up
Better

When we burn them
Its an act of the moment
A want not to build it up any time soon
Distance
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Origins

Sub Umbra Floreo
A motto
Never have words about half of an origin felt so true
I flourish in the Shade
Belize

Dieu et mon droit
A motto
More words of the other half of origin which couldn't feel more wrong to me
God and my right
England
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Problem?

We're all mixtures of problems
Flaws envelop us
Quirks all cover us

Its the traumas we go through which makes us
From the As to the Vs
Agoraphobia to Von-Hippel-Lindau Syndrome

Everything in our history creates us
Molds us into the shape we wind up in
Causes us to be who we be

Born free
Shaped through our history
Disfigured forever?
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