Would you call this poetry?

i've never been taught how write poetry
never read poetry
never been encouraged develop of talents
every , write things, in journal when i'm feeling down, , see people think.
judging these splashes of crap encourage me develop writing? or laugh @ , not think of it?
honest answers grateful
...
in no particular order:



darkness falls,
upon foreign wall,
place once mine,
follow deep dark path through
gates of own mind;
though music of rusted hinges
sings of forgotten times
horrors ‘neath turbulent seas
expect find.



, dark – yet not quite dark enough
candlelight above head
wander – lighting hallucinations
fleeting spirit, shows
frightened carcasses of disfigured flesh:
dead trees lay dead:
in wooded coppice, ‘neath sea bed.



gone days when
summer rent house
within memory
lying beneath willow
dreaming life away
visions of
glistening stars future
wrought crystal
before raining them down across
silk-satin face.
, smiling
being drunk upon
sweet honeydew
of childhood bliss.



thunderstruck burnt wind
ravaged innocent heart
crumbles dust



last time?
blood runs through head.
first crime?
quivering mass of flesh.
never been ill, ceased exist,
understand means severe
chords of neck,
disembowel gut feelings,
, substitute false-talk
amusing irony instead.
keep passions fed,
, sleeping night-crawling dead:
in head:
released in second
unknown beholder,
bullet flies out revolver.



smile sweet darkness,
moon inside heart,
came when night-time came,
, stole away love.
winds frozen, dead still,
yet tides turned inside.
, sun in sky uncertain,
begins cry.


poison feeling bubbles,
through bones inside my mind,
through crevices deep down,
of what’s been left behind:
broken dreams, shattered memories
fever of long lost time.


blind – borne upon
crumbled pillars
of flesh , bone.
within our lake eyes see:
man: in perfect harmony;
blessed daylight
un-misted love or strife.
yet under moonlit moors,
nightmare pavilion silence talks,
blood-drunk beast resides,
advocate of our pride;
, - our tar-stained eyes - presents:
acrid , rotten fruit:
satisfy our desire of truth,
bleeding heart of juice,
or boiling brain ‘till numb,
beauty beneath sun.
, it’s easy see,
we’re destined be:
shadows – doomed twilight.


expression distortion
wind seeking way through veins
it's heartbeat that's electrical
wild beat untamed



in dreams little while
saw ghost play tambourine
hands cold, sheets clean.
, hurt me - smile – again child,
i’m shedding skin, seeking answers begin.
, there’s ticking in veins,
can’t explain,
yeah, drives me insane,
“it’s not real, it’s pain”,
… heard say.
i’m staring @ face through frosted glass
i’m sitting, waiting – time pass;
tears have never been hot before,
watch them hit bathroom floor.
when stare in mirror grow older…
, it’s cold…
dropped heart snow,
watch eaten crows,
morality makes me choke,
mortality seems joke.
looking @ life in black , white,
figures behind chinese screen,
things never quite seem.
can see jagged jigsaw still don’t know
hell means, guess means lot me:
because when closer
it’s head full of rain,
it’s heartache can’t explain,
it’s fools game play –
play anyway.
song never meant sung,
never seemed able find words kind enough dance.
next time send me kisses,
please send them without best wishes,
‘cos i’ll gone far long,
stuck in own alcatraz.



kudos if managed make sense or enjoyment out of it...

i've never been taught how write poetry never read poetry never been encouraged develop of talents every , write things, in journal when i'm feeling down, , see people think. judging these splashes of crap you...

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