It's funny how a line from a song can inspire another like the first line of Champagne supernova or " I bleed myself dry" from Yellow or "Hope dangles on a string" from Vindicated or "You can't fight the tears that ain't coming" from Iri
My Special
Dedicated to Champagne Supernova, to Oasis and to a certain Menon.
How many special people change?
Once special, always special?
What if a special breaks?
What if a special hurts?
He'll still be special?
The truth is
When I made you special,
I made sure
You couldn't unspecial yourself.
I carved you too deep.
The wound won't heal.
I bleed.
I plead.
I strike.
I give.
But you, you angered.
You swore.
You cursed.
You hid.
You refused to believe
You are special
No one can change that.
Not death
Not God.
Not bricks.
Not books.
Not dreams or themes
Or songs or smiles.
Nothing.
Special people never change.
None of them do.
That's the tragedy.
It's cool as long as they know.
But if you hide, they hide.
If you stumble, they stumble.
If you doubt, they doubt.
Coz you are a special too.
Am I special to my special?
You say I am.
I know I'm not.
"For you, I bleed myself Dry."
It's bout how empty/ drained/ exhausted one feels when a relationship ends.
It has some sexual connotations if you bother to read between the lines.
Dedicated to Yellow, to Coldplay and to all Bloodless Hearts.
Dirt!
Dirt!
All that's left is Dirt!
All the red has seeped out.
You drank every drop.
You sucked on it like a juicy mango.
Dirt!
And you din't bother to wash.
Your hands still dripping,
You pounce on the next victim.
I hope you leave a drop for her.
She might live.
As for me,
You left me unfit for anyone else.
I must shrivel up and die.
Maybe I already have.
I wonder when I lowered my shell.
I wonder when I let you in.
I wonder when, I wonder why.
You gave me some,
I gave you some.
Then the giving stopped.
The stealing began
Until,
Until I couldn't sing anymore.
Until I couldn't sleep anymore.
Until I couldn't breathe anymore.
You left Dry Tears.
Silent Screams.
And Numbness.
I'm not cold, you are.
I'm not a beast, you are.
I'm not heartless, you aren't.
You have mine.
It doesn't hurt anymore.
You left nothing to hurt.
Thank You.
Thank You.
For you I bleed myself dry
And only dirt
Not even sand
But dirt.
After thought: you might have to read "Dry Tears" to understand some of this.
"Hope Dangles On A String"
It's about how we cling on even when we know it won't work. We know how shallow guys are but we still love them even if they care for nothing but the "fluff".
String, I hope you know who you are.
Dedicated to Vindicated, to Dashboard Confessionals and a certain Ish.
Hope dangles on a string
I tried to let you in
You peeped,
You saw
You groaned
You ran.
Was it the dirt?
Was it the spots?
Was it the blank
That you ran away from?
Were you afraid I couldn't give you enough?
Were you afraid you had to give too much?
You can!
We can!
But you won't
I know why.
Others are not as empty.
They may be shallow.
But they are not empty.
Go,
Go try them.
I'll wait.
I'll shrink.
I'll hide.
If you come back,
You may not find me.
Don't be afraid.
You can still hope
Like I did.
One day
When I am full again,
We could be each other.
I wouldn't come any closer.
My hope dangled on a string.
And I wouldn't let you in.
I knew what you would find there.
Maybe I knew too much
Even that wasn't enough.
I could have pretended to be full.
I could have stuffed some fluff in.
But I didn't.
I wanted you to see me.
To see through me.
But you didn't like what you saw.
So you ran.
And I don't blame you.
Run, darling, run.
It's your chance to escape.
I'll still be here
When you come back
I'll still be me
Or maybe, by then,
I will acquire some fluff.
Maybe then, you will love the fluff.
Maybe then, we can pretend to be fluff.
Hope dangles on a string.
The string is thin
And it's breaking.
But it holds on.
It wouldn't let go.
I try
I try to be miserable.
But it does not let go.
It's my life force.
It's how I know
I'll be here when you return
It's how I know
You will return.
It's eternal,
Unlike you.
It's my rock,
Unlike you.
It's my blanket,
Unlike you.
After-thought: I know it does end abruptly. But my thoughts stopped flowing and so did the poem. Don't ask who Ish is. Don't quite know him myself.
"You Can't Fight The Tears That Ain't Coming"
Dedicated to Iris, to the Goo Goo Dolls, to Ronan Keating and to a certain Madhu, my tearless companion.
This is for when I tried to cry.
I tried so hard.
Tears wouldn't come.
I fought,
But I lost
Cos you can't fight the tears that ain't coming.
You're on the battlefield
Ready with your weapons-
Tissue paper and cheer up songs.
You know how you feel.
You donno why you feel.
But at least you feel.
Then you scrunch up your face
Into an unpleasant monster.
You clutch the tissue tighter.
You scream a little louder.
But you're still dry.
You curse the one who stole your tears.
You ask for them back.
But you can't fight the tears that ain't coming.
You cry that you can't cry.
The stars don't help by shining.
The dolls don't help by whining.
The books don't help by explaining.
The friends don't help by comforting.
"Your pain is my pain"
Ya right!
You can sympathize with me
But you could never empathize.
I'll hide.
It's easy to hide the tears that ain't coming.
So I twist my lips upside down.
Inside I think
No one can teach me to smile today.
No one can ask me to frown.
I'm a professional!
At least my lips don't betray me.
I rebuke by eyes for disobeying.
They close.
They give up on me.
I drift.
I give up on myself.
The tissues fall out of my hand.
The songs stop.
I don't need them anymore.
I don't need to fight.
I don't need to fight the tears that ain't coming.
I can do without them.
My tears have turned into words.
My face has turned into paper.
My screams have turned into pencils.
My woe has turned into song.
Now I can cry,
I can fight,
Because I can write!
After-thought: A big shout out "Thank You" to Kathy Lokhart who helped me write the ending of this poem...without you this one would be crying. Anyone who doesn't understand this one should read "Give Me Tears" and "I can Cry". You know what? Go ahead, read everything on my page!
"Heaven is overrated"
An amazing story. Read carefully.
For the cynics, the atheists and my research paper.
Dedicated to Drops of Jupiter, to Train and to a certain Seagull-it's written from your perspective, I hope you get it!
You say it's plain.
I try in vain
To explain
There are no angels,
Just like
There are no devils.
You say you believe,
I say you are weak,
You need heaven too much
Not to believe.
You say you'll get there.
I say tell me when you do.
I smirk.
You work.
Heaven-Pooh!
I cross the road
I enter the shop
It's white.
Must have been repainted.
Someone is singing.
Must be Karaoke night.
I feel light.
I'm just hungry.
I buy a sandwich.
He refused to take the money.
"It's only paper"
I munch.
Oooooo! I love this taste.
I'm ecstatic.
Made to perfection
Slices of brothers' bread
With just the right amount
Of cream and honey.
I hum to the hymn.
I sit on the grass.
I look at the sky.
No, I must be blind.
Maybe it's the sandwich
Coz I can't see the sky anymore.
The sun? No, it's not there either.
I look at my watch.
Maybe it's time to see the doctor.
But my wrist is blank.
My skin is flawless.
My shirt is clean.
I remembered having
Dropped juice on it
Just this morning.
Confused, I walk down the road.
The tar must be shining
Coz it looks gold.
I close my eyes.
I smile.
When I open them again
I see a castle.
A castle?
There was never a castle on this street.
I must be lost
I say
This will be a tale
To tell the believer.
Pooh! Heaven.
Heaven is overrated.
I sigh.
After-thought: You might get shocked by the size, but it's actually a collection which deserves space. I think it's my master-piece..nice way to start the year..If you don't know the songs I'm talking about, don't worry, I saved the lyrics too..so just look them up on my page..In fact it doesn't matter, even tho each poem is inspired by a popular song, they don't have anything to do with the songs themselves, only that one line I took from each of my favourites..Hope u enjoy reading and rereading(fingers crossed) this one.
You might notice that most lines in the poems end with a full stop, even tho the flow is impeccable(wink self-praisingly), this is coz I want each of these lines to inspire others..maybe you will write or dream or at least think bout one of these lines which seems familiar. (!!) For all those ppl to whom I have dedicated these poems...U are special! I don't usually write for other ppl
Poetry by Parnika
Read 965 times
Written on 2007-01-13 at 19:47
Tags Dedications Songs Inspire
Save as a bookmark (requires login)
Write a comment (requires login)
Send as email (requires login)
Print text
inspire
My Special
Dedicated to Champagne Supernova, to Oasis and to a certain Menon.
How many special people change?
Once special, always special?
What if a special breaks?
What if a special hurts?
He'll still be special?
The truth is
When I made you special,
I made sure
You couldn't unspecial yourself.
I carved you too deep.
The wound won't heal.
I bleed.
I plead.
I strike.
I give.
But you, you angered.
You swore.
You cursed.
You hid.
You refused to believe
You are special
No one can change that.
Not death
Not God.
Not bricks.
Not books.
Not dreams or themes
Or songs or smiles.
Nothing.
Special people never change.
None of them do.
That's the tragedy.
It's cool as long as they know.
But if you hide, they hide.
If you stumble, they stumble.
If you doubt, they doubt.
Coz you are a special too.
Am I special to my special?
You say I am.
I know I'm not.
"For you, I bleed myself Dry."
It's bout how empty/ drained/ exhausted one feels when a relationship ends.
It has some sexual connotations if you bother to read between the lines.
Dedicated to Yellow, to Coldplay and to all Bloodless Hearts.
Dirt!
Dirt!
All that's left is Dirt!
All the red has seeped out.
You drank every drop.
You sucked on it like a juicy mango.
Dirt!
And you din't bother to wash.
Your hands still dripping,
You pounce on the next victim.
I hope you leave a drop for her.
She might live.
As for me,
You left me unfit for anyone else.
I must shrivel up and die.
Maybe I already have.
I wonder when I lowered my shell.
I wonder when I let you in.
I wonder when, I wonder why.
You gave me some,
I gave you some.
Then the giving stopped.
The stealing began
Until,
Until I couldn't sing anymore.
Until I couldn't sleep anymore.
Until I couldn't breathe anymore.
You left Dry Tears.
Silent Screams.
And Numbness.
I'm not cold, you are.
I'm not a beast, you are.
I'm not heartless, you aren't.
You have mine.
It doesn't hurt anymore.
You left nothing to hurt.
Thank You.
Thank You.
For you I bleed myself dry
And only dirt
Not even sand
But dirt.
After thought: you might have to read "Dry Tears" to understand some of this.
"Hope Dangles On A String"
It's about how we cling on even when we know it won't work. We know how shallow guys are but we still love them even if they care for nothing but the "fluff".
String, I hope you know who you are.
Dedicated to Vindicated, to Dashboard Confessionals and a certain Ish.
Hope dangles on a string
I tried to let you in
You peeped,
You saw
You groaned
You ran.
Was it the dirt?
Was it the spots?
Was it the blank
That you ran away from?
Were you afraid I couldn't give you enough?
Were you afraid you had to give too much?
You can!
We can!
But you won't
I know why.
Others are not as empty.
They may be shallow.
But they are not empty.
Go,
Go try them.
I'll wait.
I'll shrink.
I'll hide.
If you come back,
You may not find me.
Don't be afraid.
You can still hope
Like I did.
One day
When I am full again,
We could be each other.
I wouldn't come any closer.
My hope dangled on a string.
And I wouldn't let you in.
I knew what you would find there.
Maybe I knew too much
Even that wasn't enough.
I could have pretended to be full.
I could have stuffed some fluff in.
But I didn't.
I wanted you to see me.
To see through me.
But you didn't like what you saw.
So you ran.
And I don't blame you.
Run, darling, run.
It's your chance to escape.
I'll still be here
When you come back
I'll still be me
Or maybe, by then,
I will acquire some fluff.
Maybe then, you will love the fluff.
Maybe then, we can pretend to be fluff.
Hope dangles on a string.
The string is thin
And it's breaking.
But it holds on.
It wouldn't let go.
I try
I try to be miserable.
But it does not let go.
It's my life force.
It's how I know
I'll be here when you return
It's how I know
You will return.
It's eternal,
Unlike you.
It's my rock,
Unlike you.
It's my blanket,
Unlike you.
After-thought: I know it does end abruptly. But my thoughts stopped flowing and so did the poem. Don't ask who Ish is. Don't quite know him myself.
"You Can't Fight The Tears That Ain't Coming"
Dedicated to Iris, to the Goo Goo Dolls, to Ronan Keating and to a certain Madhu, my tearless companion.
This is for when I tried to cry.
I tried so hard.
Tears wouldn't come.
I fought,
But I lost
Cos you can't fight the tears that ain't coming.
You're on the battlefield
Ready with your weapons-
Tissue paper and cheer up songs.
You know how you feel.
You donno why you feel.
But at least you feel.
Then you scrunch up your face
Into an unpleasant monster.
You clutch the tissue tighter.
You scream a little louder.
But you're still dry.
You curse the one who stole your tears.
You ask for them back.
But you can't fight the tears that ain't coming.
You cry that you can't cry.
The stars don't help by shining.
The dolls don't help by whining.
The books don't help by explaining.
The friends don't help by comforting.
"Your pain is my pain"
Ya right!
You can sympathize with me
But you could never empathize.
I'll hide.
It's easy to hide the tears that ain't coming.
So I twist my lips upside down.
Inside I think
No one can teach me to smile today.
No one can ask me to frown.
I'm a professional!
At least my lips don't betray me.
I rebuke by eyes for disobeying.
They close.
They give up on me.
I drift.
I give up on myself.
The tissues fall out of my hand.
The songs stop.
I don't need them anymore.
I don't need to fight.
I don't need to fight the tears that ain't coming.
I can do without them.
My tears have turned into words.
My face has turned into paper.
My screams have turned into pencils.
My woe has turned into song.
Now I can cry,
I can fight,
Because I can write!
After-thought: A big shout out "Thank You" to Kathy Lokhart who helped me write the ending of this poem...without you this one would be crying. Anyone who doesn't understand this one should read "Give Me Tears" and "I can Cry". You know what? Go ahead, read everything on my page!
"Heaven is overrated"
An amazing story. Read carefully.
For the cynics, the atheists and my research paper.
Dedicated to Drops of Jupiter, to Train and to a certain Seagull-it's written from your perspective, I hope you get it!
You say it's plain.
I try in vain
To explain
There are no angels,
Just like
There are no devils.
You say you believe,
I say you are weak,
You need heaven too much
Not to believe.
You say you'll get there.
I say tell me when you do.
I smirk.
You work.
Heaven-Pooh!
I cross the road
I enter the shop
It's white.
Must have been repainted.
Someone is singing.
Must be Karaoke night.
I feel light.
I'm just hungry.
I buy a sandwich.
He refused to take the money.
"It's only paper"
I munch.
Oooooo! I love this taste.
I'm ecstatic.
Made to perfection
Slices of brothers' bread
With just the right amount
Of cream and honey.
I hum to the hymn.
I sit on the grass.
I look at the sky.
No, I must be blind.
Maybe it's the sandwich
Coz I can't see the sky anymore.
The sun? No, it's not there either.
I look at my watch.
Maybe it's time to see the doctor.
But my wrist is blank.
My skin is flawless.
My shirt is clean.
I remembered having
Dropped juice on it
Just this morning.
Confused, I walk down the road.
The tar must be shining
Coz it looks gold.
I close my eyes.
I smile.
When I open them again
I see a castle.
A castle?
There was never a castle on this street.
I must be lost
I say
This will be a tale
To tell the believer.
Pooh! Heaven.
Heaven is overrated.
I sigh.
After-thought: You might get shocked by the size, but it's actually a collection which deserves space. I think it's my master-piece..nice way to start the year..If you don't know the songs I'm talking about, don't worry, I saved the lyrics too..so just look them up on my page..In fact it doesn't matter, even tho each poem is inspired by a popular song, they don't have anything to do with the songs themselves, only that one line I took from each of my favourites..Hope u enjoy reading and rereading(fingers crossed) this one.
You might notice that most lines in the poems end with a full stop, even tho the flow is impeccable(wink self-praisingly), this is coz I want each of these lines to inspire others..maybe you will write or dream or at least think bout one of these lines which seems familiar. (!!) For all those ppl to whom I have dedicated these poems...U are special! I don't usually write for other ppl
Poetry by Parnika
Read 965 times
Written on 2007-01-13 at 19:47
Tags Dedications Songs Inspire
Save as a bookmark (requires login) Write a comment (requires login) Send as email (requires login) Print text
|
Zoya Zaidi |
| Texts |
 by Parnika Latest textsWelcome to LifeStop! Depression I'll fall in love someday Love Hurts |
Increase font
Decrease