writing Poetry Compilation #8

[Pan the Fabulous Ferret 2,642]

This set took a while to come out... But, i feel it was worth the wait. A lot of things have been happening recently, many of them good bases for writing, which is just what i did.  I would truly apreciate comments.

 

Pointless ways

 

 

All across barren fields

Flames that flicker in the wind

And salt that continues to scatter

All across barren fields

 

In the spirit of good intention

Laying waste to all opposition

Screams echoing far and wide

In the spirit of Good intention

 

As these bodies lay to rot

Men of lesser reason

And men of the will to fight

As these bodies lay to rot

 

 

-David Favret

 

 

 

 

To Follow a Heart

 

 

 

Beyond reason, and parallels of doubt

Without proper logic and consent of the mind

Awaiting mere words of existence

Such, being of the heart

 

And oh, to be one of those

Blessed they are to know of knowledge itself

Yet, knowing nothing, simply be following a heart

A way of life, devoid of proper logic

 

An extent of former glory, as often they are seen

However, as I comprehend, it is not so

We who are of heart and with reason

A sense of achievement, and lack of self pride

 

I only wish for myself to live without logic

Rather to be constrained by what one’s heart dares to produce.

If only others could follow suit

For sometimes, I feel alone in my wish

 

 

-David Favret

 

 

 

 

Sticks and Stones 

 

 

"Dont you realize that no one even likes you?"

"OMFG! Just fucking kill yourself already!"

"The only good thing that you can POSSIBLY do is to just die."

"Go ahead and cry bitch, it isnt like anyone even cares."

"You have no purpose, and no one would want someone as ugly as you."

"You are just a waste of a human being, if you dont end up killing yourself, then I hope someone does it for you!"

 

 

 

Trapped inside, and betrayed by the world

A misunderstood being 

 

Earthly expression, and wants of affection

Pretty little lies

Devoid of any humanity

 

Now say good night, on this final evening.

 

Left all alone, without another soul

Not a single person to hold

Reminded of the bitterness that dares to take form

All we ever wanted... is this what we wanted?

 

Now say good night, on this final evening.

 

Taking hold, the shadows eyes

Simple words, and oh so many tears

Daring to be different, and forsaken

Simple little lies, and such a kind heart

Cast away, into the growing dark.

 

Now say good night, on this final evening.

 

Cry your eyes out

Plead for an answer

Beg for your friendships

Do anything for others words

Wishing for someone, who might dare smile with you

Finding yourself under persecution of words.

 

Dear little girl,

I hope that inside, with all your feelings left behind,

That you may find a better way

Dear little girl,

Say good night, and please wake up.

 

 

-David Favret

 

 

 

 

 

 

 Breaking point

 

 

 

How I ask, does anyone deserve to feel this way?

Unrelenting in the tides of depression

Away from the ones you declare to love most

 

How is it that, after these things, do you find the strength to continue?

Battling through life, and the inevitable defeat of spirit

Proving that spirit, is boundless in your efforts, even after it breaks

 

It seems that life has shattered in your wake

To this, I appraise you

A defiant being who only lived to love, and be loved by others

In this world, where mind defeats spirit, and man weeps for itself

 

 

 

-David Favret

 

 

 

 

 

 I've tried, am I lost to your eyes?

 

 

 

Who knows that I tried?

Forsaken lies that I told

Inevitable defeat, of spirit and mind

 

Gather now, wit and mercy throughout

Forgotten hopes of despised person’s love

Excitement begotten in times of ruin

 

Who dares to know that I lied?

On the very wind that was meant to carry us all

Dreary hopes of the forgotten father

 

Leave behind, all talks of disunion

Forgive again, life without meaning

Understand please, voices unheard

 

Am I the only one who knows that I cried?

Abused and abandoned

Ashamed all the same

Regardless of pity, righteous assault

Thoughts of a saint, who will never be heard

 

Who knows that I tried?

 

 

 

-David Favret

 

 

 

 

 We Children Wear Masks

 

 

 

Silence, this among others, wanting our benevolent silence that shall not be found. And to those that dare speak against the silence, a fair warning.

 

Begone all you peopel, let us be, and by no shadow dare we hide, lest to show our faces to the dark, and night overtake. List no other among you by means of malevolent deeds of outcries. Injustice, always the profound need of retribution that others shall seek to impress upon us.

 

We, as children, perhaps not as physical entities, rather of a qualm to inner asylum. Pondering of that which We, the children, may be, i find all thoughts obscured by lesser observation of man. Man, as a being, is the power for us all, but in turn lacks the understanding that seeks the ever present, injustice of hushed outcries. Participataion squandered by lesser beings.

 

We as children, will not give ground so easily as to comprehend our own natures. Best to be stubborn without realizing sins of others that follow you, blindly. And such, would most likely be the reason, niegh, a mask, one which covers all faces that dare imagine thoughts worth living for.

 

We children, forced into benevolent silence, with masks of iron that cloak our expressions from every shadow. Such, I believe would be reason for loss of doubt, an ever imposing threat to believing. However, is such really gone when doubts are held highly in regards of children? With iron masks that cover stone lips and wooden features, unable to voice an opinion.

 

We children, often the lesser and always ignored. By rights of others we demanded, and by the will of others we were silenced. Layers of chains now added to our burden of masks, and no soul dared to question again. By this, the greater sin. By this, silence is benevolent.

 

We children fear no other opinion, rather of the actions that are brought about, and opressed we have become. Perhaps if man had realized sooner of its creeds of intention, rather than silence, all would have been well. However, no, that was never made to be a case of importance.

 

We children, find strength in our inevitable torture. And through every lesion that shows through our masks, such was our rebellion, and every one, simple success. thus humilities are born, and enemies bow to once great kindness once again. Such, a child's new world.

 

We children, of wood, iron, doubt and blood. We children, of pity, morality and dicipline. Find us not in your heart, for we have long been gone.

 

 

 

-David Favret

 

 

 

 

 Each Grain of Sand

 

 

Live your life when you're next to me

See here now and all small things

Time that rearanges itself neatly in the confines of a glass dome.

Realizing, I hope, that each moment is of bliss, power, and sensuality

 

Feel the beat of eachother's hearts

Knowing now of future days, now is all that matters

Every moment matters

And time moves so fast

 

Falling now, don't you cry

I swore it would happen, and I said goodbye

Never knew just till then, of the power in every grain of sand.

 

 

 

 

-David Favret

 

 

 

 

 Dear Emotions, how are you?

 

 

 

Lover, dear lover,

Despise and repent,

All throughout honors,

Disguise and repeat.

 

Father, dear father,

Listen to a child,

The first of all words,

Leave not a hint of distrust.

 

Nieghbor, dear nieghbor,

Defeated all the same,

Know not what binds you,

Escape while you can.

 

Child, dear child,

Await near the door,

Enter your dreams now,

A knife be your end.

 

Reader, dear reader,

Seen all the same.

 

 

 

-David Favret

 

 

 

 

 Just a Distant Memory

 

 

 

Of feelings sought, of the later day

On evening tides , the spring of time

And of this, the hour and the day

Such an event, yet to take place

 

With tears of stronger compassion than words care to give

And one who remains lost in this day, again, and again

Caring not of oneself, rather lamenting in the loss of another

To this, all that is given, a simple tear

 

Know not what others make of days gone by

They know not of which they speak, of days, often that hurt

For a memory is of the soul

And no other shall ever know of its bitter hold

 

To all men that dare speak of the past

A warning

"Let dwell, not a soul of ambition to moments of pain"

"Rather, an acceptance of their nature, and of their existence"

The past dwells ever so violently on man

 

 

 

 

 

-David Favret

 

 

Written whilst in thought of Comrade-Dimitri-Hammer

 

 

 

 

 

Blunt, yet ever the truth

 

 

 

Wings of the angel

Such were words of hated grief

 

Envy of the savior

For what we shall never know

 

Pity of a saint

With only a deed to their name

 

Of angel’s hell

Where do the better lie?

 

That’s all I know

Myself, and three others

 

The first, of a liar

Whose namesake takes its toll

 

The second, be a thief

And belongings were at his heart

 

The third, oh surely wrong

A better man, bludgeoned to death

 

 

 

-David Favret

 

 

 

 

 Good-Bye, cruel world

 

 

 

Light me a passage

Down yonder this way

 

Through doors of shadow

Mystery abound

 

Prompted disguises, of troubles ahead

By no means accepting me.

 

 

Give me a reason to stay in this void

In my own oblivion, where the shadows dare look upon me

When all my faith seems lost by signs of corruption

And by means of other's wants, my soul to keep

 

Give me a common ground

One which to stand upon

And one to make a foundation

Better I stay, or better I go?

 

Through the eyes of half knowledge

Ingnorant eyes, I call them

They see all the misfortune, all that dares to be made known

Yet where does care lie, in this forsaken void?

 

I shall leave not a rant, or pitiful upbringing of discussion

Rather to leave in the dark of night, lest the shadows be made prominent

And of all shadows I fear, i fear "fear" itself

The dakest of noble black

And lighest in terms of the heart

Like tentacles, it stretches forth, and I fear for my soul

My pitiful soul

 

I walk the illusion of a colored path

Past all eyes and false mirrors

Past the walk itself, and the darkest shadows

Only to find that the door to all dreams

Is merely a dream itself.

 

So now I ask myself...

 

Should I really, have opened that door?

Or better of me to have taken the signs that guided me?

 

 

 

 

 

-David Favret

 

 

 

 

 Never Gone

 

 

 

On days like this,

With my memory, still intact.

Recollection of thoughts gone by

 

The dead will not forgive your sins,

And so niether shall you die again.

I wish i could believe that.

 

Wake me up in many years time,

Know that the end of beginnings leaves many scars.

A scar on who we are.

 

And so as I let my memory rest,

like the times when dead men roamed,

I find all ends to my interpretation of grace.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Destruction of the heart

 

 

 

"I understand, perhaps as well as anyone does, of the matter of feelings that we all hold inside of us. To this matter however, comes a different understanding, one of transformation and conveyance. To hold true in that definition of fellings, is to be sure of life's true rectitude. Meaning, without guidance, is as meaningless as people can imagine.  In fact, our imagination is actually what gives us meaning, so by such, why is it that we do not all embrace that one true understanding of feeling?  Is emotion truly that complex of a thing?

 

It really matters not what people think of eachother. If we focused more about the minds of others as real individuals, then we would truly grant ourselves that freedom of knowledge. Knowledge of other's pure intent.

 

Do you even understand what I am trying to tell you all? I will be honest, I don't expect the majority of you to even come close to the terms I represented here. This poetry, it really is such a pointless thing, but, then again, poetry is more so for the enjoyment of the writer, or to serve as a reminder of things that should be. They won't let a memory rest, and such is why I write."

_____________________________________________________________________

 

Destruction of the Heart

 

 

 

Once more, into all the feelings I will ever know.

All that cares to caress the real me, as one to be withdrawn.

And I know not who would stand against this.

Anything and everything of melancholy, I accept it.

 

Here comes my pain again.

 

But here on this day, of fermented joys and mere echoes of laughs,

Here I sit, and squander about my pain a I myself am the cause.

Memories that never seem to pass over.

Remnents of events that are best left forgotten.

 

Here comes my pain again, and all words used to describe it.

 

As the little girl will cry, and the little boy stares at the dust.

Both children of a Earth which cares not for them.

Merely children of vacant expresion and emotions that contort their forms.

Children with masks to hide behind.

 

Here comes my pain again, and why I write, I ask myself.

 

No more shadows left to hide me.

Forced to leave comfort and contemplate suicide.

Left alone, abandoned, and cherished all the same?

Drenched in my blood again, does it ever end?

 

Here comes my pain again, tearing down my walls.

 

Through bloodshot eyes and phantom tales.

This is how the world wishes me to rot.

They need not wait too long, with a knife and will in one hand.

It isn't hard to end everything.

 

Here comes my pain again, a wish upon a star.

 

Dragging my feet through halls of mirrors.

My stance on life, as unchanging as my reflection on every surface.

Becomming who we are, ever so the greatest challenge.

Feeling the beating of my heart once more.

 

Here comes my pain again, can I end it all right now?

 

Without the hope once promised, I am nothing.

I can hear the little girl sobbing, and see the little boy dying.

But what are they to me, these children of the Earth?

Little did I know, that I too, was wearing a mask.

 

Here comes my pain again, and no one ever cares.

 

As my memories rest, like fire's last few breaths,

Only now can feeling the beats of my own existence do I realize my true crimes.

My loss of hope, will, and joy of better things.

Damned, and ever so willing

 

No longer this pain.

 

 

 

 

 

-David Favret

 

 

 

 

 

 A simple Elegy

 

 

 

Not for the understanding of any one generation.

Yet by many, and such the will to wait.

Is this possibly, by which ways that lie unknown, the way i seek?

 

Finding in oneself, a proclamation of sorts.

By such, the ever sounding inner voices that fuel all our intention.

Should it then, be me, one who will start the beginning?

 

Eagerness in all ends of madness.

Earnesty and honesty of unapreciated thought.

Casting glances of our own reflections.

Bitter-sweet revelations of our minds.

And so i'll ask this one more time.

 

Who am I to begin?

often the beginning, by currupted definition, is left forgotten.

if all things begin, then all things end.

 

So just this once, perhaps I would like to believe.

That amdness shall not overtake.

That commendable honors will only lead to greater desire.

And that all life in its essence cannot end.

 

All this,

My troubles, and my sorrows.

Words of my nature, unto you.

 

These words, a simple Elegy.

All that I care to realize that I can know in this life.

 

 

 

 

-David Favret

 

 

 

 

 

Writing Pain

 

 

 

Through all writing pains

All that I ever sought, amongst all reason, away

No other, capable of these words I wish to hear

 

Sometimes, all on my lonesome path I find myself wondering of these

Precarious words with rhythm

 Unknown to other’s mouths as they speak it

 

My dwelling of depression

Soon I fear, overtaking myself

And without a word of rhythm to accompany me

 

Die among graces

Accept changes

Rearranging things dear to ourselves

 

By the other’s interpretation of words

Unbound by my own definitions

Such is why…

 

Why I accept no changes

 

 

 

 

-David Favret

 

 

 

 

 A lonesome Heart

 

 

Do you realize,

Or perhaps even comprehend what you did to me?

Even if in the moment we shared, why bother spreading your love?

 

Im not as strong as I would like to believe.

I cant be the who I want to be for you.

And by such the word love becomes ever more distant.

 

Not so much by me, or my own pitiful loathing,

But also on you.

Every day that goes by,

Another day without your comfort.

And I grow ever more in my own sadness.

 

I realize,

More so than I would like.

I am addicted, but by not any substance one can name.

 

And I realize,

That my life just isnt the same without you.

Just take the time to reflect on this.

On just how pathetic you have made me.

 

I miss the days of apathetic optimism.

When my life wasn't filled with worry and distraught.

 

But as life seems to be changing us, it might be for the better.

I expect to find myself needing you even more.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 Words of the Father

 

 

The first

The last

 

Time, such a twisted thing

An essence of abandonment

Life of deception

All I ever really cared to know.

 

Say your prayers for one more night

And by the only star, this one here this night

Search for an answer for your abandoning graces

Tears of the child

 

Send out your message

I've waited oh so long

 

And by no more want, nor need I suffer

All for you

All for you

 

By the words of you, the father, I searched

And by the words of you, the father, I am forsaken

Without reason, beyond recognition

 

Wandering aimlessly in vain

Without the words of you, the father

 

 

 

 

 

 

 Ascension

 

 

 

Means of wit and reason

However scarce they may be

On no occasion shall this be viewed

A view with no depths left to ponder

 

Accumulate

Such desire that all is needed in ones heart to satisfy

And by such, oh so much

Needed, on this day

 

By means of the heart and sadness

All unto which is scarcely known

In words, and phrases

In time, and in life

 

 

 

-David Favret

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

One to shine

 

 

 

End of the line

A beginning, in new world times

Of all despise, hate and greed

To one which shines above the rest

All alone with its shining, and by such, forgotten

Left to be what it should have been, but never more useful now in its run

 

Being itself, now in ruin

By all means of shining stars that shown just as bright

Among all hate, in words and in bodies

Unto such days, the forgotten meaning

No longer alone

Rather, accompanied by all

 

On this day

Others which may as well rectify

Pacify all hopes of need

The want need not return.

 

 

-David favret

 

 

 

 

 

 

Spoken Memories

 

 

 

Just something to remind us,

Of times rearanged, and memories forgotten.

By knowledge passed, and days that have faded,

all, unto this last.

By simple want, and need none the less in doubt.

All that is to be heard, must be spoken first.

 

 

 

-David favret

 

 

 

 

 

 

Ever hopeful, the pessimist

 

 

 

How will this end?

By night’s premature birth, I ask.

And by time’s hurtful hold, I plea.

Asking not, by words.

 Rather, with feelings.

 

Of such, the understanding is led askew.

And by such measures, involuntary essence of gratitude, and joys for all?

I would only hope for such.

But I am not of wanting.

For such is not my wish, as I wish not.

 

 

 

-David Favret

 

 

 

 

 

Broken hearts

 

 

 

Broken hearts, in every which way.

Saints of the day come too late.

Hearts that ache, and tears violently shed.

Of broken hearts on later days, and here unto now.

My thoughts, they have receded.

 

To broken love and hopes gone far, far away.

To the saints who wait, by ends early mourning.

All which to the broken hearts is of the null and void.

Hearts that are revived through turbulent trials.

 

Broken hearts, at all times, and in every day.

Awaiting…

 

 

 

 

-David Favret

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

[Lucifer 231]

Very nice I say, and now I can tell my overall opinion on this newer poetry of yours.

I think it is delightful!

You have a bit of talent in your head, and you always use it in the best ways! Congratulations, for I give you a five-star rating on all of your poems.