Snow (haiku/poem)

Whispers lavender

in chilly white disguises

that call to me.

Winter has come and, with it, snow is falling.  Personally, I love snow.  I love its fluffiness and its resolute whiteness.  I love the sound it makes as it drifts through the treetops.  I love its fragrant taste as it lands on my tongue.  And I certainly love the aromatic, fresh scent that drifts from it at 5 o'clock in the morning. It is a unique substance, far better than rain or cotton candy, and I adore waking up to a white front yard.

Today is the first day in quite a while that it has snowed.  Snow flurries have been going since early afternoon and the temperature has already dropped below freezing.  As I look outside at the already accumulating snow-drifts, I look forward to a relaxing Sunday complete with sledding, snowball fights, and my little dog running around like a maniac.  I made sure to get hot cocoa for the occasion.

Sincerely,

KobaltWolf

Pen (poem)

Pen by KobaltWolf

They say it's for writing

But I have to counter

Since when was writing an exclusive endeavor?

They say it's for sketching

But I reply 'no'

It doesn't just sketch, it brings it all the way home.

They say it's for note-taking

But I have to object

It's not just for storing what's lost in your head.

It is what it is

And it does what it does

But in the end, I have to say

It's not just for one.

The Market (poem)

The Market by KobaltWolf

The market's bright

A vibrant gold

And it smells of Sloppy Joes.

All stuffy and hot

No coats allowed

I find it rather boring.

It's quite straightforward

And far too dull

I never make great finds.

Yet maybe I'm being over-judgmental

But I have to say these things

'Cuz otherwise I'd lie.

Try Real' Hard (poem)

If you've read my previous post (the Emerald Curtain), you'd know that my dog is having kidney failure.  Yesterday, we had to euthanize him because he was just in so much pain.  He hadn't eaten or drunken in 36 hours, he could barely breath, and he was constantly retching.  When I got home, I was understandably depressed and stood outside for thirty minutes.  Finally, I decided to write a poem partly to commemorate my dog, but also to express my feelings.  It's not an especially happy or hopeful poem, more of just an expression of my emotions.

Try Real' Hard   by KobaltWolf

I look upon the golden sea,

And think what lies beyond these things,

Beyond the day and blistering night,

Beyond the leaves and calling kite.

I wonder what will happen then,

When all these things have come to past,

And what is gained is finally lost,

All worn and broken and tempest-tossed.

I do not know, I really don't,

Although I might try real' hard,

I cannot see beyond these things,

And all these broken hearts.

Shoes (poem)

Shoes

Shoes can tell a lot about a person,

No really, I'm telling you, they can,

Where they've been and such

Or what they've done in truth.

Maybe there's a girl with style

Who's visited the downtown McDonald's

Behind her friend's Gucci-clad back

In greasy salted, leather shoes.

Or the man at the bar

With dank brown loafers Nordstrom-bought
Drinking away his sanity

And splattered with beer.

The youth that walks with frat kings

On fine, black Sunday-shoes

Worn from playing tennis

And greased from stealing cars.

Shoes can tell a lot about a person

no really, I'm telling you they can

How they've been and such

Or what they need in truth.

And if you don't believe me. . . .

Well, you'll find it in my shoes.

Something Needs (poem)

Something Needs by KobaltWolf

Something needs

The little wheel barrow

That carries off the needless dirt

Away from the man-made hollow.

And something needs

The tiny rain-drop

That platters down the red-tiled roof

To bring life to the planted crop.

Something needs

The newly-grown crocus

That struggles through the winter soil

And colors the whitened canvas.

So tell me

Who needs me?

_________________________________________________________

I have been having an extremely rotten day.  First, I was working on a comic strip for five freakin' hours when my brother suddenly comes over and unplugs my laptop's power source causing the graphics card to freeze because of a faulty update.  I had to turn the entire computer off, losing all my work. And then, I was cleaning my trombone and accidentally cut myself on the sharp edge of the slide, but, guess what, WE HAVE NO BAND-AIDS.  Thirdly, my family is obsessed with my brother's college venture, meaning that I am completely ignored.  I mean honestly.  They started making lunch and forgot that I needed to eat as well.  And FINALLY, I discovered that we have an ANT INFESTATION.  And the infestation just happens to be where I keep all my watercolors so I'm worried that the images were damaged and I have to look through them one-by-one.  >:(  So I am SERIOUSLY TICKED OFF.

*takes deep breath*  Okay, I'm sorry.  I just really needed to vent.  Now I'll move on to the more relevant subject: this poem.

Basically, this poem just sums up all my current feelings.  Why am I here?  What does my existence really do to impact the world?. . .and I realized that I'm just having what I call the-grass-is-greener-on-the-other-side-of-the-fence-syndrome.  I'm envying my brother because he's getting all the attention, when because he's getting all the attention, he has no free time.  Free-time is an essential necessity of my being, so therefore I concluded that my brother acting as a human-shield could actually be a good thing.  Go figure, huh?

I'm envying everyone else, thinking that they have a better life than me, but they in fact probably have pretty much the same problems and trivialities.  Now, I have come to realize this fault of mine, however, the hard part is fixing it.

This poem was written as a rhetorical question towards myself.  "Who needs me?"  The winning answer: myself.  I need me so as to better myself so that I can make an impact on the world (preferably for the good :P).

So anyways, peace out peoplz!

KobaltWolf

Why (poem)

Why by KobaltWolf

My throat is scratchy

But I know I haven't choked.

And my nose is very raw

Yet I don't recall a scrape.

When I try to stand, it's dizzying

Though my head is free of bump.

And my joints are aching really badly

Still I'm lacking in a bruise.

Overall I really feel quite tired

Even if the day is yet to start.

So tell me

Why am I crying?

______________________________________

So sorry for not posting in a week!  I have had the worst cold in the history of colds.  I've been couch-stranded for days and went on an anime-spree (the only good part of my illness).  It's only today that I started feeling better, and a good thing too, seeing as I have a band concert tonight. :(  Hopefully I'll be able to get through it without too much coughing.

"Why" was actually inspired by my sickness.  See? You can get inspiration from anything!  Even terrible, gut-wrenching, insufferable colds!  Yaaaaaay!  Not. . . .

Anyways, I was sitting on the couch watching D.Gray-Man when I started thinking about how much absolute pain I was in.  Cheery, right?  But this train of thought led me to compare physical, illness-induced pain to more emotional pain.  You know how when you've been wounded by a close-friend or loved-one, you often feel physically unwell?  Like you just want to curl up in a little ball and fail to face the world again?  Well I certainly have.  "Why" is a summary of how I've been feeling lately (and I'm not talking about the sickness), so hopefully you like it!

Peace out peoplz!

KobaltWolf

First (poem)

Okay, I admit that this poem is a little depressing, but I'm just in one of those moods.  For the last month, I've been almost completely ignored in favor of my brother who's preparing to go to college.  I mean, I can understand some focus on him, but it's just not fair to be ignored by your entire family and then told off when you speak up about it. I really love my brother (he's awesome) but sometimes I feel like I'm just a repeat of what he's already done.  Hope you like it!

First by KobaltWolf

I turn my head,

But you did it first.

Then I twirl on my feet,

You're already reversed.

It doesn't seem fair!

Why am I just a mirror,

Trekking the traversed?

I shake my head,

It can't be your aim,

And take up my pen,

But the words are proclaimed.

You're always there!

Why are you always the author,

And I'm just the words?

I slam my hand against the desk,

But the wood's already worn.

And then I rise and stomp my foot,

To meet a dented floor.

You always forebear!

Why can't I just be myself,

Instead of one of you're old, shattered shelves?

I kick my table through the wall,

But it's already reached the other hall.

Then I turn and grip my pen,

Only to find it in my hand.

I'm done being last!

Why can't I ever be first,

Instead of some worn-out rehearse?

I stare down with contempt,

At the messenger's tool.

Pressed against my knee,

And I snap it.


I snap it.

For all to see.

past, present, Future (poem)

Just a little thing I whipped up.  I thought I needed to post something other than Gift of the Outcast because not everyone will understand said fanfiction.  I know the poem sounds kind of depressing in the beginning, but it gets hopeful towards the end!  I'm not exactly pleased with the rhyme scheme and rhythm, so I might go back in and edit. (and yes, the title is supposed to be punctuated like that)

past, present, Future by KobaltWolf

I looked towards the dusk,

As the day took mortal wound,

From the tendrils streaking brusque,

Across its tainted light.

Today was worse.

I watch upwards the stars,

As the freckles lost in tempest,

That creeps from unhealed scars,

Blocking those of bright.

Tonight is worst.

I will glance forwards moon,

Fading eventually in solar halberd,

Of Phoebus Apollo in platoon,

The sun will come sight.

Tomorrow will be better.

Snow (poem)

It flutters down,

Drawn and white,

A shroud of mist,

Cold and light.

It covers all,

House and sight,

Without remorse,

Frozen night.

It shuffles fore,

Dark yet bright,

It hides us all.

We give no fight.

200 VIEWS!!!! (random poem)

As the title suggests, The Kobalt Board has reached 200 views!  YAY!!!!  Yeah, I know it's not that big for most people, but it's big for me, so THERE.

To commemorate this historic event, I thought I'd write a little poem. . . .

Roses are red,
The Kobalt Board's blue,
We love this blog,
So view, view, VIEW!


. . . .I mean it. . . .view. . . .

Yes, I know it's a terrible poem, but I'm on a sugar rush.  Too much ice cream.

Anyway, let's shoot for 500 views next.


Peace out peoples!

KobaltWolf

Here I Stand (poem)

I'm sorry to say it, but I was kind of in a depressed mood today.  My brother and I were watching a documentary about the effect of greenhouse gases on Earth's biomes and it just made me furious to see how much we've messed up the planet.  I wrote this poem to reflect how I feel.  I'm not going to tell you the exact themes because you should be able to decipher them yourselves.  If you can't, then I didn't do a very good job of writing this poem!

I look from the precipice.

Nothing but gray,

As far as the eye can see.

Uniform, unchanged,

Dark even during day.

Here I stand.

I direct my eyes downcast

Against the sting

Of the wind across my face.

Feral, ferocious,

Fierce against my wing.

Here I stand.

I wrinkle my nose, disgust.

Assaulted scenes,

Drift fore without embrace.

Pungent, prevalent,

Remorse without trace.

Here I stand.

I curl down my lips, distaste.

Loathing the nausea,

Trying to cover my face.

Repulsion, revulsion,

Like sulphur lace.

Here I stand.

I cover my ears with haste.

Cries that never abate,

Jarring through all protection.

Clashing, crashing,

Without correction.

Here I stand.

I stand on the precipice,

Never moving, never losing ground.

I see through, relentless,

Tangent in air,

Through to the emptiness,

That surrounds everywhere.

I never move.

I stay.

I stand through it all.

Here I still.  I stay.  I stand.

Past (Poem)

I sit and I watch,

As the day turns slowly past,

Time never stops to consider the last.

It flies and it drifts,

As the world mills below,

Time never stops to suit those we know.

We run and we hide,

As it searches life's rim,

Time never stops, the past is too grim.

The Heralding Cry (poem)

I have always been fascinated by wolves(hence my blogger name.)  This is a little poem I wrote on a very tired, and very bored, whim.

The Heralding Cry by KobaltWolf

Some say the wolf heralds the end,
Others say its the borning cry.
From what I've heard at the eve of dusk,
Of the howl that chills both bone and trust,
I'd stock with those who favor worse
And think Artemis' hound a foul curse.

Though those few with a better try,
At humanity's fragile life and line,
Are those who, at the break of dawn,
When Hemera peaks and Nyx retreats,
Hear with renewed vigor,
The wolf's heralding howl,
Earth's borning cry.



Here's a little extra info on some of the more unusual words in the poem.
Hemera -- the Greek goddess of day
Nyx -- the Greek personification of night
Artemis -- the Greek goddess of maidenhood and hunting.  Often traveled with wolf-like hounds