Poetry by TheArtistOrSomething

[TheArtistOrSomething]

Here I'll post poems I write.

I tend to write poems approximately whenever I feel like it, so check back often to see if I've put up anything new.
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"Listen here, three-eyes, don't you try to outweird me, I get weirder things than you free with my breakfast cereal!" -Zaphod Beeblebrox
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"I'm not kidding, this is serious. We're about to be attacked by a giant teddy-bear!" -Ulrich
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(^-) . . All hail the
/|||\ . Great Cthulhu
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I am no crazier than thee, we just bounce off of different walls.
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"Everybody has a right to an opinion, but not everybody's opinion is right."

[TheArtistOrSomething]

Harmony

The soul.
Anger, hatred, rage.
Sorrow, hopelessness, depression.
Joy.
Love, laughter, happiness.
Aspiration.
Hope for a new day.
Absolute trust, total determination.
Life changing decisions made in a second.
Wanton disregard for consequences.
That ever powerful saying: "Never tell me the odds."
Gazing into the future.
A future of wonder and ruin.

The mind.
Enmired in facts, enamored with statistics.
Doubts, questions, uncertainty.
Truth.
Reason. Logic. Sense.
The power to think.
Understanding a problem.
Finding a solution.
Spending much time and effort on every decision.
That little touch of cynicism,
Which breeds new discovery.
That simple undeniable principle: "Prove it."
Learning from the past.
A past of successes and failures.

The body.
Pain, irritation, exhaustion.
Hunger, thirst, constant need.
Action.
Tangibility, strength, coordination.
The ability to affect the world around you.
A sacred temple to be protected or desecrated.
The paints with which you customize
Your canvas: The World.
The conduit which allows the concept: "I can."
Focused on the present.
The pleasures and pains of the now.

Mind, spirit, and body,
Together as one,
Can think,
Can imagine,
Can do.
Logic keeps emotions in check,
Emotions drive the body to its fullest potential,
The body gives the mind a place to think.
Emotions drive logic to think of new things,
Logic shows the body how best to operate,
The body gives emotions a way to get out.

Three elements in harmony.
What a piece of work is man.

[TheArtistOrSomething]

Almost Alone in a Forest Glade

I love the sounds of nature
Soft winds blowing through the trees
The birds' and chipmunks' chatter
And the buzzing of the bees
The crunch of topsoil 'neath my feet
The trickling of a brook
I listen in on nature
Then I turn and take a look

I love the sights of nature
Every color can be seen
Skies of blue, birds of red
And the trees of luscious green
The twisting patterned lichens
Complex ripples on the lake
I gaze around and see the source
Of the many scents I intake

I love the smells of nature
Fresh and crisp, the dew-soaked leaves
A whiff of fragrant flowers
Carried lightly on the breeze
The aged dusty musk of bark
Decomposing off a long dead tree
I close my eyes and ears and nose
To feel it as part of me

I love the feel of nature
All the worries of the day
All the horrors and the problems of the world
Just melt away
The trees, the birds, the lake, and I
Are part of one Creation
And as I feel Him gaze down on me
My heart sings with elation.

[TheArtistOrSomething]

Little Thing Called Life

Life is odd, to say the least.

Only it can make itself,
Yet virtually anything can take it away.

It has its ups and downs
As so many things do.
Quite often more downs than ups,
As these things seem so often to go.

Why do we live?
Do we have some higher purpose that drives us forward?
Or are we just simply unable to face suicide
And therefore live on?

For most it is somewhere in between.

What do we do with life?
Oh so many options,
So many of them bad.

We destroy.
We lie, we cheat, we steal.
We beat and bruise and torment.
We wage war and inflict so much suffering.

We create.
We inspire one another to greater heights.
We think, we feel, we accomplish.
We cure disease, we feed the hungry.

We laugh, and we cry.

We look for what little good we can find
In this swarming mass of chaos
That is the world our forefathers
Have made for us
And that we are now making
For our children.

Hopefully we will do better,
But I'm not holding my breath.

Life is cruel, and messed up.
It is full of darkness and hatred,
Evil and sin,
Pain and suffering
And in the end, death.

But for all its faults
And all its imperfections
When it all comes together,
Life is beautiful.

[Dark Geohound]

That poem was beautiful. You relay the nooks and crannies of that thing called life very well.