Poetry of a Conlanger

Sunday, May 29, 2005

Poem Prompt for You

Hey! Now it's your turn to write a poem! Here's a prompt: Write about a conversation with someone where the other party wouldn't remember words or actions entirely, just feelings. OR a conversation that the other person would forget as soon as it was over. You can post it here, or keep it to yourself; whatever floats your boat. :-)

Friday, May 27, 2005

If Time Were a Tomato

If time were a tomato,
I wouldn’t chop it up and put it in a salad.
I’d cradle it gently,
Resisting the urge to bite in until the
Last possible moment.
And when I did bite in,
I’d savor it, this tomato.
One bite at a time.
No salt, either. Just plain tomato.
And when all this time,
So cleverly disguised as a tomato,
Was gone,
I’d wonder where it went,

And if I’d ever get another tomato of a chance.

Saturday, May 21, 2005

Two Words

Looking back through my book of memories,
I laugh.
I laugh the cruel laugh
of peers
to one who will be ostracized
in a few minutes.
I laugh at myself, then cry.
For written on each page
are but two words:
That's what I was.
Maybe I still am.
Who am I to say so?

Nuclear Fallout

I thank you for your honesty,
I'm sure it served you well.
In keeping your life stable,
And throwing mine into a hell.

I beg thee not to worry,
Revenge's not on my mind.
I'm still trying to figure out
How I feel about your kind.
Your story had consumed me,
I'd made it part of mine,
And now you'd have me weep,
And forget in such little time.
In short, I'll keep my anger locked,
All safe and neat and clean.
And be calm and cool near you,
Trying not to release the mean.

A Vow of Friendship

I'll be there when you cry.
I'll be there when you need to talk.
I'll be there when you rant.
I'll be there when you need advice.
I'll be there when you take revenge.
I'll be there when you get dumped.
I'll be there when your crush looks the other way.
I'll be there when you laugh.
I'll be there when you are smiling.

I'll be there when you need me-
I'm your friend.

Ne plus de Sourires (No More Smiles)

I walk in the other direction,
Suddenly happier than I've been in days.
But then I rebuke myself:
No! No, no, no, no, no!
You have no right,
no reason,
To smile like that!
It's too impossible, you know,
And besides, you remember what happened the
last time you smiled
at something as
silly, as, as-
as that!
So stop smiling, you silly girl,
and get back to reality.
But though my smile has faded,
Another one creeps back to take its place.
I'm happy- I can't help it!


I sit alone
and choke on my dissapointment.
I told myself it was nothing,
but did my heart listen?
No, and yet it pleads innocent, the traitor.
Now I feel trapped
by my own feelings;
to others a trifle,
to me the world.
But a few hours ago
the world was full of hope,
I am crushed,
lying under the
heavy weight of dissapointment
and loneliness
I'm crushed for the stupidest (most stupid?)
to cry.

Thursday, May 19, 2005

The Broken Dam

Breathing hard,
heart breathing faster,
hoping with all my strength,
feeling stranger than ever.

then the dam breaks,
and my tears fall.

it's not your fault.

Tears of Resent

Resentment is a weed,
One that you planted inside me.
You opened your mouth-
you shouldn't have done that.
because now, I can't stop it-
it grows, and grows,
and grows,
finally blossoming into a sickly
flower of hate.

It makes my friendflower weep,
to see that hideous bloom.
"But you're friends!"
She cries, tears rolling down in protest.
"it hurts me too!" I reply.
"I never wanted this resentment!"

And now all three of us cry-
My friendflower,
And the sky with us.

Closer to Panic

Oh, no.
Oh, yes.
Another step,
I force my legs to move.
Another step,
Closer to my spark of hope.
Then the wave of
crashes upon me as a cresting wave.
I can't breathe!
I can't think!
I cannot move anymore, either.
For how can one
from a solid weight of


It's funny how you
can still make my heart race;
even against my will.

the faint hope of a new plant
hurts more
than the death of the same.

Won't you come pick me up
and dust me off?

The Flown Ones

I used to have buterflies
inside of me,
but they've flown away,
I used to miss my butterflies,
but no longer,
no longer.
Last week they solemly returned
to flutter about me,
and I suddenly became annoyed
with these clinging creatures:
How dare they return unbidden!
But then they left,
as quickly as they'd come.
And I was glad,
and strangely confidant again,
until the ache of where my butterflies used to stay
consumed me,
and I wish again for
something to fill that ache.

The Future Holds My Never

How can you wield such authority
over me?
Your eyes,
Your voice,
your very being
seems to dicatate my
every movement and thought,
and I want only to forget!
I want whiteness,
Anything but
the reality of
the feelings of now.

Wednesday, May 18, 2005

Seed Packet

I found a packet
Of seeds once, labeled “hopeflowers.”
One was planted in my garden,
But I didn’t mind.
Hopeflowers are beautiful.
So I watered it each day;
I weeded out the
Fast-growing, ugly,
That sprang up around it.
Into it was poured my whole heart.
But after sixty
Days of clear blue skies,
Those well-meaning storm clouds rolled in.
I could have protected my glorious hopeflower,
But I was so certain,
So certain,
That it would survive the well-meant
I waited, detached from my garden,
Until those clouds, that thunder, had left; then,
Oh then,
I saw my hopeflower.
A keen, politely chosen bolt of lightning-
That’s what had slain that hopeflower.
I cried more than the storm had poured,
I raged and shook my fist through bitter tears,
All to no avail. My hopeflower has been murdered.
Now I sit and regard these
Fragments of hopeflower,
And my gaze falls upon the seed packet.
Should I risk it?

An Outlaying Confession

The vault is two covers,
The lock just a string.

The jewels?
Mostly of you,
A new ruby, sapphire, or emerald is
Added each day
To my glowing, hopeful collection,
Which lies between the covers
Of a nondescript book-my journal.
If you were to get ahold of it
And read,
Would you be pleasantly surprised,
Or not?
Would you fling your arms around me and
Agree with my feelings?
Since you want to know,
I’ll tell you myself; no hidden emissary.
You’re my shining spark of hope.

This Is My First Post Ever

Like the title? Ok, so this blog I set up to post my poetry so people (namely my friends) can read it (obviously). My name is Delalyra (yes, Delalyra, pronounced dell-ah-leer-ah). If you decide to comment, please think about what you're saying, and don't try and conenct names with things in my poetry (though most of you will know what/who I'm talking about. Be forewarned, they're not all about who you think they are!). So I'm going to start this blog off with my favorite Neruda poem. Without further ado...

if each day falls
inside each night
there exists a well
where clarity is imprisoned.

we neeed to sit on the rim
of the well of darkness
and fish for fallen light
with patience.

~pablo neruda