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one, the titles are dumb, I'm aware. I'm bad at ... titling things.
two, I like making poems that are related but aren't the same poem, ie, the first two. So, they're like, sister poems.There are some haiku that are more obviously related. They aren't related if they aren't next to each other, but just because they're by each other are doesn't really mean anything. Yeah.
three, some of them are absolutely stupid. And they might not make any sense to you. But I get them, so ask if you really, really care to know. The poems start out pretty bad, but I think they get better. 8/
four, they are all Hetalia related, but no next - gen this time. I would hope you could tell by reading them, because while I wasn't direct, I tried to make it somewhat obvious who they're about.
five, I like being told what sucks about the things I write, so if you don't want to read the same old crap every time, let me know what just didn't work. I'll try to work it out. ~
six, conversely, let me know what did work so I can keep doing it. Thank you, enjoy ~
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The Youth of 4000 Years
Slender, nearly womanly
In figure
Hair long and black as the night can get
Face soft and young
Is this the picture of youth?
Prodding the stomach in examination
Could be, but define youth
4000 give - or - take, seems like it
4000 is
4000 instances
40000 times producing
400000 pressures and worries and love
What of the pressure of fear?
Of time?
Of choices?
Choices so dear or choices so crucial
More than one life depends upon them
And the rest of the world disapproves
Without exaggeration.
The Red was for the benefit of all
But it brought about the oposite
Don't knock on the neighbor's door.
He's sunk as well.
Something is struck
A chord, maybe,
in the souls of fellow countrymen
that maybe it takes one to know one
and maybe you're the only ones
and thus, the only ones who can help themselves
unless, you can help each other
It's only begun
A journey so long
Maybe it'll take 4000 years more
To get to the end of the road.
Will you regret it?
No?
Will he?
No?
So what's the worry?
There's no rush if you've all got the lifetime
of forevermore
Sunflowers Live Forever
Somebody hurt you
Hide behind a grin
Beat the smile out of their smirk
No one will stop you
Big and mighty as you are
Unless you want a kind word
Or a gesture of love
You won't crumble, right?
You certainly won't cry?
You can't, you know.
Too many depend on the hidden.
Childish anger gets you nowhere
Buck up like your sister taught you so
Hope you listened
Too much depends on the forgotten
Don't drink away the goal.
Vodka doesn't sooth the soul.
Sunflowers and warmth come only of hard work.
Spare the effort
Learn.
It's okay to depend.
It's no good to go alone.
There's someone else who needs a savior
knocking at your door.
together, you will learn.
You will learn to love.
More than ever before
You will have loved.
In Greece
Watching intently
But
Not paying any attention
The difference is in his expression
It's just the same
Like all that philosophical wisdom
Sleeping
Again
What's on his mind?
The lover's torso in his arms
What more could he need?
More sleep.
In Key of H Minor
More precise than a puppet's limbs
Fingers nimble, yet elegant
Dancing
Gliding
Lightly sliding across the keys
Not a second wasted
Despite glasses pushed up the bridge
Focused?
Not really
A show off?
A bit.
All for her
And she's swaying
Humming
Soul dancing to the music
As she scrubs the floors
It's for her
All for her
Everything for her
And not once will she act on it
There's A Cross He Visits Sometimes
So young
A lovely little nineteen
And so willing to give herself up
Rebellion and bloodshed
No matter
Would it be so hard to thank her?
The nation
Owes it to her
To do at least a little
And he will visit sometimes
The little cross like all the rest
A bouquet of white lilies
All wrapped in black
A few moments is all he can spare
It's snowing
It's cold
And he's a busy man
But he lingers an extra second to thank her
Jeanne d'Arc
What Power?
Portugal?
What happened to your power, Portugal?
You were ahead of your time
You had the finest navy in all the land
Did you get bored?
Were you too weak?
Did you get lazy?
Or careless?
Or did you bend and break to the surrounding counries?
Not that I can blame you.
Spain is pretty kick-a**.
Winter Warmth
Ground frozen over
Strong arms keep internal warmth
Inferno - lit room
Do You Regret it Yet?
The only movement is
the p***k of a tear
on the water's suface
which feels like we are floating above
We are his child
sleeping lightly in my womb
And we are myself
wondering if we will be all there ever is
if she will remain a painful reminder of
the love he promised us
with his actions
We will always
have love in our hearts
I can only hope
she doesn't resemble
too closely
Unless he comes back for us
Purple I
cheerful eyes look up
amythest truly treasured
by those of pure ice
Purple II
purple - eyed looks back
likes those cold eyes just as much
such things are confessed
Purple III
not inherited
terrifying as papa
has those eyes of snow
Pre - Warring Time
everything is still
darkness has not left the land
dawn reveals the guns
Warring Time
there is red about
the world is mourning itsself
final man sees dark
Post - Warring time
nothing thinks to move
far more silent then before
death is everything
Purple
the gayest color
such colored crayons disposed
anthem of the French
You are Sweet
' you are sweet '
says the hopelessly endowed woman
to the awkward bespecticled man
he grips a single bloom
' you're far too sweet '
says the sarcastic frying pan weilder
to the truely broken - hearted albino
this is as refined as it gets
' you are ... sweet '
says the blushing far - easterner
to his calm counterpart,
offering up his cat
' you're so sweet! '
says the frozen - nosed blond
to the equally cold giant
who has swept him off his feet
' you're not even sweet! '
says the flustered pretender
to that stupid grin
who laughs it off
' ve, so sweet! '
says the uselessly happy wimp
to the scowling caretaker
who can't hold back a smile
' you're sweet '
says an old - timer who's always looked young
to the one with a terrible grin
who has given more than ever before
' you're ... sweet '
says a tea drinker
to his hero
he is obviously pleased
' ... '
says the one who never speaks
to the one who never shows his face
he interprets it how he pleases
' you aren't sweet '
says a blunt but teasing northerner
to the playful drinker
who tries much too hard
' you are sweet '
says the woman among the lotuses
to the man who lives for his romances
as he bows to lay a kiss on her hand
 Pure Finn · Thu Jan 28, 2010 @ 11:11pm · 1 Comments |
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