kgiswriting

[kgiswriting]

still one of my favorite "poems" i've written. who knows i may get back into writing soon 💛

Dear Mr. Baker

Dear Mr. Baker,

I-we do greatly Apologize I-we didn’t mean it It was completely an accident By chance even!

If anything I-we could say your shop was in the way Your shop Was in the wrong place, at the wrong time Your shop Was in the way of our game Your shop Had breakable glass windows

But I-we digress I-we will apologize Thus, I-we say Sorry

I-we won’t promise it won’t happen again Remember It is your shop on the corner And that is where all of us children play And how can you blame this on us! We are only but, Children Not adults Or people with boring jobs Only want to be, baseball players And you know what? Accidents happen.

Absolutely positively sincerely With deepest regret and respect and regard With great honor and pleasure Best wishes and dreams Hopefully and somberly, casually, gleefully

Yours, Noah

[kgiswriting]

“Sad-Faced Youth”

a sad-faced youth is what you’ve become everything is falling

the rain everything is failing

the hope everything is dying

the spirit so a sad-faced youth is what you are

you think and you don’t know you hear and you don’t listen

a sad-faced youth is what you will always be

the sad-faced youth looked upon his family and said it so calmly, so firmly, so fiercely

but the sad-faced youth doesn’t know what he speaks of the sad-faced youth thinks but doesn’t know the sad-faced youth hears but doesn’t listen therefore the sad-faced youth cannot say

so calmly

so firmly

so fiercely

the sad-faced youth doesn’t know because he wouldn’t listen

#poems by a non-poet #my poems #poems #poetry #attempted poetry #poems on tumblr #poems on life #sad-faced youth #copyright #kgiswriting #keturah genesis #keturah #genesis #my poetry #poems from a non poet #poems from the heart #dedicated poems

[kgiswriting]

the Indian Giver

a perfect peace disturbed by the threat of death

a life that wasn’t his to take but in her soul to mourn

how do you tell someone it isn’t in your right to take something that belongs to so many

what was once yours is now all of ours

a light doesn’t just allow one to see it allows them all

don’t be that one kid on the playground

(the dreaded term but the useful one)

don’t be the indian-giver

To my brother.  You are loved.

#kg #keturah genesis #kgiswriting #writing #creative writing #poetry #for my dear #i love you #always

[kgiswriting]

The Storyteller (1)

I’m not a poet. I’m a story-teller. It’s what spills from my fingertips-sometimes from my mouth; stories. They come in different forms but, they are there nevertheless; sometimes never to be taken back.

They get me in trouble sometimes, these stories. They don’t understand the concept of time and place, they just come whenever they feel. Those naughty stories.

But what are you to do? It is your profession. It is your job for these stories to be heard, because everyone and everything needs a voice: even the fake ones have something to say.

#shorts #a series

[kgiswriting]

conflict of interest

i can see but am i really seeing

i can hear but am i really hearing i can feel but do i really care

it's hard being someone, when that someone has disappeared

dead and gone falling and falling with no end disappear disappearing disappeared gone from life i'm not going to stop falling until i stop falling no one will ever find me until i make myself found but i don't want to come out i want someone to find me but no one ever will unless they want to disappear to

alice didn’t jump down the rabbit hole without wanting too.

#alice in wonderland #poems by a non-poet #poetry but not really poetry

[kgiswriting]

3-2-15

midnight

the moon is at its apex stars are shining dimly

except for one everyone is asleep

except for one

one lone star, one lone girl staring back at each other telling silent stories

the girl telling stories of the day the star telling stories of the night

the girl reaching for the star the star reaching for the girl

but never shall their arms meet it is never meant to be

slowly fading away both the star and the girl both orphans in the lonely world

they fade away together but so very far apart

never to return

the star loving the girl from particles above the girl loving the star six feet below

#attempted poetry #oldie but a goldie #poems by a non-poet

[kgiswriting]

Arrow Fanfiction

*the beginning to an arrow fanfiction with my own character*

Hot.

Sweaty.

Sticky

. . .you would think after-. . .however many months. . .or years. . .I’d be used to this. This weather. This hunger. This isolation. But truthfully, I wasn’t. The sun was unnaturally hot today, beating its rays down forcefully raining it’s heat on me-us. 

My eyes were falling shut from the swollen and dead skin around it and my tongue darted out to try and wet my dry and cracked lips, but it was just as dry. I should be in the shade, but I was watching for boats. I could be drinking water, but we barely had any left. We. Oliver. Oliver Queen; my companion in this misery.

Oliver and I were sat back to back looking in different directions, watching for boats or airplanes or ANYTHING to get us off this island. We just wanted to go home.

I felt Oliver straighten up, causing me to sit up as well, but I didn’t move my back from his. He was still for a moment and then let out a noise, sounding animalistic and he moved causing me to have to prop my own self up. I turned around, my movements slow, and looked at him to see he was crouched, looking at the horizon intently. I moved my gaze to where he was looking and took in a breath.

There. On the horizon. A small figure, but probably big enough to be a boat, if it came to closer. When, it came closer. We weren’t letting whatever it was, get away.

Ollie and I, as if we were the same person, thinking the same thing scampered down the mountain, to get to the higher one. We ran, crashing, sometimes tumbling from our nervous excitement at the thought of finally escaping this hellish island. Oliver kept running and I stopped so I could make sure that this was in fact a boat and my heart skipped a beat, at the fact that it was.

I ran after Oliver, the excitement coursing through me. When I made it up the mountain, Oliver already had an arrow lit, and was drawing the bow back, preparing to shoot. We made a bonfire, specifically set for this occasion and the amount of times we’ve had to rebuild it because of false hopes, has been astonishing.

Oliver shot the arrow, lighting up the bonfire, causing an explosion-like scene. We both turned our attention to the boat, and I held onto my katana’s tighter. And soon we could see the boat coming closer, but I wouldn’t be happy until we were finally off this island.

“Come on,” Ollie said gruffly. We didn’t have anything to grab so we ran down to the shore.

.

“干得好,” Here you go,’ the fisherman said.

“谢谢” ‘Thank you,’ I responded, taking the cup. He did the same to Oliver, who took the cup silently. The older man scurried off and Oliver and I were left alone, watching as the island we had been trapped on, slowly become smaller and smaller and then finally disappearing.

   Finally off Lian-Yu.

   Finally out of hell.

[kgiswriting]

Pride

Pride

The parade It was today It was loud, colorful. He wasn’t here for himself. Otherwise he wouldn’t be there, no. He was there for someone else, yep. Findhimfindhimfindhim: his mantra. He caught his eyes somehow, those green-gray eyes. So many people yet he found him, he always did. His eyes that had looked at him with so much love Now all he was met with was scorn and hatred. He sighed. What was he going to say? He didn’t exactly plan this out unfortunately. Speak from his heart? No. He’s bad at pulling things out of the air. He took in a deep breath and decided to let it flow. The aim; forgiveness. “Hi,” the sound of the crowd drowned out and he was focused on him. “Hello,” the other said coldly, void of emotion. He flinched and looked away. “I'm sorry,” he said looking at his shoes. The other grew angry. “Are you?” the other sneered. He looked up. The other softened. The other still loved him no need to behave cruelly. “I am. Very.” He said desperately. Breathe darling breathe. they stood in silence, the noise surrounding them. “OK. What now?” the other asked standoffish. His eyes began to water threateningly. “Forgive me?” he said hopefully. He was feeling awkward. “Why should I?” damn it “please?” not again. “You hurt me.” Pain surrounded the two. “I didn’t mean to Alex.” Alex scoffed, unbelieving. he sniffled, miserable “You have to do better than that.” “I don’t know how! What do i do? “You should have thought of that before coming here.” He let out a sob, not knowing what to do. “This is for the best. Here we go our separate ways.” Nononono this wasn’t how it was supposed to be. “Please don’t say that, you don’t mean it, Alex you aren’t like this.” “Three times, James! You broke my heart, three times. I forgave you every time.” “Alex I didn’t mean too! I don’t know what you want me to say.” Pleading. Alex looked at him coolly, impassively but heartbroken. “Don’t say anything, it’s done, over. “So you’re just going to throw away everything we had?” James questioned. Alex had begun to walk away but turned towards his once lover. “You did that the moment you pushed me away my dear.” James’ tears began somewhere in the midst of the conversation. They were free flowing down his cheeks, he turned. “I don’t know what you want from me.” “Nothing, not any more James.” Alex sighed. James sniffled messily. “I’ll miss you.” “And I, you.” Alex smiled. “Good-bye, Alex.” James said. “I’ll see you.” They walked away.

#creative #creative writing #writing #black writers #poetry #but not really poetry #but it's still poetry #copyrighted #little burst of inspiration

[kgiswriting]

Dear Mr. Baker

Dear Mr. Baker,

I-we do greatly Apologize I-we didn’t mean it It was completely an accident By chance even!

If anything I-we could say your shop was in the way Your shop Was in the wrong place, at the wrong time Your shop Was in the way of our game Your shop Had breakable glass windows

But I-we digress I-we will apologize Thus, I-we say Sorry

I-we won’t promise it won’t happen again Remember It is your shop on the corner And that is where all of us children play And how can you blame this on us! We are only but, Children Not adults Or people with boring jobs Only want to be, baseball players And you know what? Accidents happen.

Absolutely positively sincerely With deepest regret and respect and regard With great honor and pleasure Best wishes and dreams Hopefully and somberly, casually, gleefully

Yours, Noah

#fun poetry #1940's poem #letter poem