POEMS
"... A poem points to nothing but itself." - E. M. Forster
filtering
by garam noh
i force out tears
eyes turn into slits
blurry blotches of light
that are streetlamps
outlines of shadows in
the footsteps of darkness
a beautiful world if
you don't look too hard
catching breath
by garam noh
suspension in time
shallow hesitant breaths
cracked lips just
slightly parted
a gleam of sunlight that blinds
flashes of color dancing
behind my lids
and it ends because
it never started
Special
By Garam Noh
In that big book of yours
That has only two
Columns,
Surely I'm on the shorter one,
My name written in silver letters,
With a star or a crown or
Whatever you guys use up there.
By Garam Noh
In that big book of yours
That has only two
Columns,
Surely I'm on the shorter one,
My name written in silver letters,
With a star or a crown or
Whatever you guys use up there.
The Woods
By Garam Noh
Tread upon the treaded path, we endeavor
Through the woods of black and white
A change in scenery have we might
A change in heart, no, never.
This mask we wear to wear and tear
Will never let up but just a crack;
It hides the things we long for (lack)
As to the beginning we again come near.
A circle drawn in but two
Colors, the side is left to choose.
A game you can neither win nor lose-
The end escapes, then again in view
Legs tire from the steady walk
Towards nothingness we still pursue
Every year a light again renewed
The last aimless path in our minds locked
Hoping there is some greater meaning
“Love,” “Chance,” “Fate,”
Wait for the winter storm to abate,
Imagine there’s some force intervening.
When the path is long and your heart not mending,
Hail the words of the wise and learned,
“To the same place you again returned
A man has yet to see a happy ending.”
By Garam Noh
Tread upon the treaded path, we endeavor
Through the woods of black and white
A change in scenery have we might
A change in heart, no, never.
This mask we wear to wear and tear
Will never let up but just a crack;
It hides the things we long for (lack)
As to the beginning we again come near.
A circle drawn in but two
Colors, the side is left to choose.
A game you can neither win nor lose-
The end escapes, then again in view
Legs tire from the steady walk
Towards nothingness we still pursue
Every year a light again renewed
The last aimless path in our minds locked
Hoping there is some greater meaning
“Love,” “Chance,” “Fate,”
Wait for the winter storm to abate,
Imagine there’s some force intervening.
When the path is long and your heart not mending,
Hail the words of the wise and learned,
“To the same place you again returned
A man has yet to see a happy ending.”
"The End" won 2nd place in the 2010 imagine magazine creative minds poetry contest for ages 14 and under. "The End" was the result of a period of time when poetry was the only thing I was able to sit down and write, and it was an amazing feeling to be recognized for a piece that was such a challenge for me to finish. It's truly motivating when you are rewarded for not a type of writing comes easily to you, but instead a "first."
THE END
By Garam Noh
Looking down at the clean, tidy hospital sheets,
And looking at the now-empty screen, you know
With that line that went
Straight with a “beep beep” sound,
One book came to a sudden close.
You came to love the main character of that book,
You went through all hardships together
But in the END, you only find that the character
Leaves your life forever,
Only leaving a story you already read
For the sake of remembrance.
Feeling like the story’s not over yet-
No, it CAN’T be over ‘cause you want to read more-
You frantically turn the pages until you get to those few
Blank
Ones at the back.
Then it hits you.
It’s really over.
Then maybe you’ll turn back the pages to
Read it all over again, but you know it’s different.
You know how the book ends, and you know you have
Nothing to look forward to.
Like the rest of the book has no meaning because at some point,
It just had to end.
It left only you behind.
By Garam Noh
Looking down at the clean, tidy hospital sheets,
And looking at the now-empty screen, you know
With that line that went
Straight with a “beep beep” sound,
One book came to a sudden close.
You came to love the main character of that book,
You went through all hardships together
But in the END, you only find that the character
Leaves your life forever,
Only leaving a story you already read
For the sake of remembrance.
Feeling like the story’s not over yet-
No, it CAN’T be over ‘cause you want to read more-
You frantically turn the pages until you get to those few
Blank
Ones at the back.
Then it hits you.
It’s really over.
Then maybe you’ll turn back the pages to
Read it all over again, but you know it’s different.
You know how the book ends, and you know you have
Nothing to look forward to.
Like the rest of the book has no meaning because at some point,
It just had to end.
It left only you behind.
Autumn’s Parting
By Garam Noh
The leaves part with
The arms of the loving tree,
Their colors a last flash of
Farewell
Before their very last.
The flowers once blooming
Can hardly understand
Why they must shed their
Petals
Without a second glance.
Melancholy charm
Surrounds a moment of autumn,
Yet what seems like a parting,
A Goodbye Forever
Is only a stepping stone
What beauty or love
Can always last forever,
When beauty Lost
Is more touching for its
Helplessness.
Feel glad to have known
The beauty’s last moment
And know that again a promise of
Rebirth and Revival
Arises.
By Garam Noh
The leaves part with
The arms of the loving tree,
Their colors a last flash of
Farewell
Before their very last.
The flowers once blooming
Can hardly understand
Why they must shed their
Petals
Without a second glance.
Melancholy charm
Surrounds a moment of autumn,
Yet what seems like a parting,
A Goodbye Forever
Is only a stepping stone
What beauty or love
Can always last forever,
When beauty Lost
Is more touching for its
Helplessness.
Feel glad to have known
The beauty’s last moment
And know that again a promise of
Rebirth and Revival
Arises.
Targets
By Garam Noh
Whistling missiles rain from the sky
Maiming innocent passersby.
Called a war on terror,
But known as an error-
Violence we cannot justify.
For one mistake others pay the price,
Their sons, their homes they all sacrifice.
For a war they didn’t start,
Their lives are torn apart.
Still they’re told their losses don’t suffice.
We group innocents with those ten who
Shot down the two tall towers to
Launch an attack-
They knew we’d fight back.
A peaceful approach is long overdue.
*This poem goes hand in hand with my essay on the Afghanistan war, which can be found in the research papers/editorials section of the website.
By Garam Noh
Whistling missiles rain from the sky
Maiming innocent passersby.
Called a war on terror,
But known as an error-
Violence we cannot justify.
For one mistake others pay the price,
Their sons, their homes they all sacrifice.
For a war they didn’t start,
Their lives are torn apart.
Still they’re told their losses don’t suffice.
We group innocents with those ten who
Shot down the two tall towers to
Launch an attack-
They knew we’d fight back.
A peaceful approach is long overdue.
*This poem goes hand in hand with my essay on the Afghanistan war, which can be found in the research papers/editorials section of the website.
Guilt
By Garam Noh
Guilt is the grey shadow of a turning friend
And sounds like the persistent ticking of a stopwatch.
It tastes of the bitterness of a dark cup of espresso
And smells stale like a pool of stagnant water.
Guilt looks like a bitten lip after harsh words are spoken;
It makes me feel unsettled and hollow.
Guilt is what eats at you when your heart know better.
By Garam Noh
Guilt is the grey shadow of a turning friend
And sounds like the persistent ticking of a stopwatch.
It tastes of the bitterness of a dark cup of espresso
And smells stale like a pool of stagnant water.
Guilt looks like a bitten lip after harsh words are spoken;
It makes me feel unsettled and hollow.
Guilt is what eats at you when your heart know better.
Hope
By Garam Noh
Hope is the molten gold of a ray of sunlight on a cloudy morning.
It sounds like held breath and the impatient tapping of a foot.
And tastes like the bitter sweetness of dark chocolate.
Hope smells like the scent of spring’s first flower
And looks like the eyes of a dog who is shown affection for the first time.
Hope makes the heart feel like it’s full to the brim and ready to burst.
Hope is fuel for the soul when the end of the tunnel seems far away.
By Garam Noh
Hope is the molten gold of a ray of sunlight on a cloudy morning.
It sounds like held breath and the impatient tapping of a foot.
And tastes like the bitter sweetness of dark chocolate.
Hope smells like the scent of spring’s first flower
And looks like the eyes of a dog who is shown affection for the first time.
Hope makes the heart feel like it’s full to the brim and ready to burst.
Hope is fuel for the soul when the end of the tunnel seems far away.
Never Forgotten
By Garam Noh
A memory is
A glistening fragment
Of that special moment.
Flashing crimson red and yellow,
The autumn leaves reluctantly go.
Wispy smoke curls and loops,
The chimney spouts, spits, and coughs,
The crackling fire a comfort tonight.
The deepest, clearest navy blue,
The Atlantic’s tides swish to bid good-bye,
Blinding sunlight and the pounding in your head
Icy snowflakes stroking your cheek,
The chill paints you strawberry red.
Flickers of feelings embedded
In a scrapbook filled with pages
Some unturned, some worn with looking.
But none ever forgotten.
By Garam Noh
A memory is
A glistening fragment
Of that special moment.
Flashing crimson red and yellow,
The autumn leaves reluctantly go.
Wispy smoke curls and loops,
The chimney spouts, spits, and coughs,
The crackling fire a comfort tonight.
The deepest, clearest navy blue,
The Atlantic’s tides swish to bid good-bye,
Blinding sunlight and the pounding in your head
Icy snowflakes stroking your cheek,
The chill paints you strawberry red.
Flickers of feelings embedded
In a scrapbook filled with pages
Some unturned, some worn with looking.
But none ever forgotten.
Dare
By Garam Noh
They say
An Opportunity is a golden key
Granted to you from a finicky
Force which we call Fate.
Yet the key is undesirable
Without the proper bravery
Another burden to carry through
The mess we've named Life.
Speculation, Hope
Have an appealing image
But put you at the altar of
Disappointment, Defeat.
Step up, all
Who have the courage
To hit rock bottom and lose it all
For a chance to turn the golden key
In the lock of the Gate of Dreams.
Beware
That dreams are not
What they seem to grant.
That they may seem
More tempting
Than what they are truly worth.
Yet turn the key
In the right Gate
For a guarantee of comfort,
If not happiness.
So step up all, who want everything
All who aren't afraid
Of what emptiness awaits when
There's no longer a
"Next."
Alone
By Garam Noh
Sometimes I feel like
Whatever I do is just not good enough
Expectations
Are hard to live up to because
When you do achieve something
It feels like it's not your own
My life on a sheet of paper
Hours of work make up just a line
Of black letters
Nothing
Alone