Devils Reject• Show poetry

I have a tendency to get inspired by something and take off writing. I usually write poems in a single setting, which may or may not be such a good thing. But im trying to learn and stretch my writing to new areas.
Some of my favorite poets include Erica Jong, Merrit Malloy and Rod McKuen.
I have added the beginnings of 2 stories at storywrite so have a look and give me feedback please
I LOVE music. I will listen to almost anything, with the exception of country music lol. Some of my favorite bands are, SLAYER, The Haunted,Rob Zombie, The Misfits, Muse,Kreator, Rush, and Venom.


Some of my favorite poems:
SONG WITHOUT WORDS
Rod McKuen

I wanted to write you some words you'd remember
words so alert they's leap from the paper
and crawl up your shoulder and lie by your ears
and be there to comfort you down through the years.
But it was cloudy that day and I was lazy
and so I stayed in bed just thinking about it.

I wanted to write you and tell you that maybe
love songs from lovers are unnecessary.
We are what we feel and writing it down
seems foolish sometimes without vocal sound.
But I spent the day drinking coffe, smoking cigarettes
and looking in the mirror practicing my smile.

I wanted to write you one last, long love song
that said what I felt one final time.
Not comparing your eyes and mouth to the stars
but telling you only how like yourself you are.
But by the time I thought of it, found a pen,
put the pen to ink, the ink to paper,
you were gone.

And so, this song has no words.



One Of The First Things We Have To Learn

No matter how long she held on
to those people she lost
No matter how hard she tried
to get them back
Not one of them ever
returned to her

We must be careful
not to relinquish our future
to people who won't
be there

One of the first things
we have to let go of
is not being able to
let go of
anybody

©1985 by Merrit Malloy


I Sleep With
From How to Save Your Own Life

I sleep with double pillows since you're gone.
Is one of them for you--or is it you?
My bed is heaped with books of poetry.
I fall asleep on yellow legal pads.

Oh the orgies in stationery stores!
The love of printer's ink & think new pads!
A poet has to fall in love to write.
Her bed is heaped with papers, or with men.

I keep your pillow pressed down with my books.
They leave an indentation like your head.
If I can't have you here, I'll take cold type--
& words: the warmest things there are--
but you.

© Erica Mann Jong


Poem lyrics of Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening by Robert Frost.

Whose woods these are I think I know.
His house is in the village, though;
He will not see me stopping here
To watch his woods fill up with snow.

My little horse must think it queer
To stop without a farmhouse near
Between the woods and frozen lake
The darkest evening of the year.

He gives his harness bells a shake
To ask if there's some mistake.
The only other sound's the sweep
Of easy wind and downy flake.

The woods are lovely, dark and deep,
But I have promises to keep,
And miles to go before I sleep,
And miles to go before I sleep.