The Ramblings of a Mad Nut: The High School years

[Peanut]

With my last year of High School winding down, I figured that now would be a good time to post some things that I have written over the years (yes, I have written some things...shocking isn't it...). So consider this to be my proverbial writing selections thread. And please, comment and tell me what you think. I can handle pretty much any kind of criticism so it's ok. Anyway, here's my first piece...

Juggernaut

I remember the days when our separation
would make me laugh.
but you kept coming,
with my oblivion in your mind.

I sweat as you rush for me
with cold fury in your eyes.
My screams fell on deaf ears
and sealed my fate
in blood and tears.

It will be under your wheels
I’ll be crushed.
Under your wheels
I’ll be oppressed.
A slave for eternity
out of my own free will.

[Peanut]

The Silent Assassin

Jerry strolled down the deserted street, his trench coat billowing in the wind and a fifty caliber magnum in his pocket. The sun beamed through the surrounding buildings and bathed him in warmth that pierced to his very soul and gave him a feeling he hadn’t felt in years: life. But why shouldn’t he feel it today, there were no bullies to push him around, no bosses to tell him what to do and no overachieving fools to obtain his goal before him. He was alone in a quest for glory that would etch his name permanently in the history books for ages to come as the man who killed the future President. He turned a corner and proceeded to approach a mass of people near Main Street. His pace quickened and his heart began to beat faster in anticipation as the gun bounced and banged into his leg. It felt like an eternity to him and each step seemed to bring him no further to his goal. He wanted the waiting to end. And so, he broke into a sprint.
A few minutes later he reached the edge of the crowd, and there he was before him. He stood alone on a large platform, waving to the masses while they cheered praises to him, like he was some sort of holy figure. This was his shot. Time seemed to slow as Jerry removed the cold magnum from his pocket and aimed it squarely at the politician. He pulled the trigger and tensed as he waited for the loud bang, the screams and the recoil as the politician fell to the ground with crimson on his side. But there was only a click. He pulled the trigger again and the same thing happened. Jerry began to panic; he had done everything that he was supposed to. Why hadn’t the gun fired? He quickly turned away and began to examine his magnum. The safety was off, everything looked fine. It wasn’t until he removed the clip that he discovered the horrifying truth. He had forgotten to buy ammo. His heart sank into the cold, familiar depths of depression. His one chance at glory had passed. Unless…
Jerry pocketed the gun and stormed off down the street. He remembered hearing that his target was staying at the Marriot. He would buy ammo, ask for the man’s room, kill him and then slip into the night. He would settle with existing as an anonymous force which killed the man. At least he would still have his pride in tact. A few streets later Jerry made it to Bob’s Gun Shop, he burst through the door and broke an exiting customer’s nose. He quickly dodged the curses thrown at him and approached a short, fat disheveled man with a stained wife beater and bright orange hunting cap starring at a Playboy magazine behind the counter.
“I need some ammunition for this!â€

[Peanut]

Alright, this next piece needs a little bit of explanation. This is a ghazal I wrote as a tribute to a local metal band comprised of my friends. Each stanza is dedicated to one of the members in the band. The band is called Ten Plagues so I tried to represent each one of the plagues that were brought on Egypt throughout the poem...it was not until I had finished this poem that I realized I had messed up several of the plagues but, the piece flows nicely so I decided not to mess around with it anymore. The word "arson" is repeated in each stanza because it is pretty much the chorus of one of their songs appropriately named "Arson." Finally, this poem truly shines when it is read with your best Charlton Heston impersonation...I'm not joking...it really does...

A Tribute to Ten Plagues

Jeff: Blood of the Nile covers our doors, Arson!
Your hard heart brings the angel of death, Arson!

John A.: And Fire from heaven pours over your skin
as boils erupt from deep within, Arson!

Samin: Watch darkness consume all light from above
as clouds of destructions bring starvation, Arson!

Sam: We come in hordes of happy, hopping madness.
So proud of our slime ridden bodies, Arson?!

Benet:…Flies consume the corpse of your first born child
all bodies rot and melt to green goo, Arson!

[Peanut]

A Haiku Trilogy

Flakes accumulate
in the heavens above me
then fall like all men.

Snow drives upon us
and coats us all cold and wet.
We wait to escape.

White sheets crushing down
blankets our world in darkness
but melts at first light.

[Anna Mae]

Juggernaut Good title.

I remember the days when our separation
would make me laugh.
but you kept coming, The "but" makes this sentence an dependent clause. Unattached to the first sentence, it is a run-on.
with my oblivion in your mind.

I sweat as you rush for me
with cold fury in your eyes.
My screams fell on deaf ears Is your switch of verb tense here intentional?
and sealed my fate
in blood and tears.

It will be under your wheels It=fate? In any case, I would recommend a semi-colon here.
I’ll be crushed.
Under your wheels
I’ll be oppressed.
A slave for eternity
out of my own free will. Fragment.
Your ending took me off-guard.

[Anna Mae]

The Silent Assassin
Jerry strolled down the deserted street, his trench coat billowing in the wind and a fifty caliber magnum in his pocket. The sun beamed through the surrounding buildings and bathed him in warmth that pierced to his very soul Interesting description for the sunlight. and gave him a feeling he hadn’t felt in years: life. But why shouldn’t he feel it today; there were no bullies to push him around, no bosses to tell him what to do and no overachieving fools to obtain his goal before him I would change this to "he did" just to make it flow more smoothly. He was alone in a quest for glory that would etch his name permanently in the history books for ages to come as the man who killed the future President And his name is Jerry. He turned a corner and proceeded to approach a This is a small thing, but I would change "a" to "the" to make his anticipated actions feel more deliberate. mass of people near Main Street. His pace quickened and his heart began to beat faster in anticipation as the gun bounced and banged Is it actually making a noise? into his leg. It I would change "it" into something more descriptive like, "The walk." felt like an eternity to him, and each step seemed to bring him no further to his goal. He wanted the waiting to end. And so, he broke into a sprint.
A few minutes later, he reached the edge of the crowd, and there he was before him. He stood alone on a large platform, waving to the masses while they cheered praises to him, like he was some sort of holy figure. This was his shot. Time seemed to slow as Jerry removed the cold magnum from his pocket and aimed it squarely at the politician. He pulled the trigger and tensed as he waited for the loud bang, the screams and the recoil as the politician fell to the ground with crimson on his side. But there was only a click. He pulled the trigger again and the same thing happened. Jerry began to panic; he had done everything that he was supposed to. Why hadn’t the gun fired? He quickly turned away and began to examine his magnum. The safety was off, everything looked fine. It wasn’t until he removed the clip that he discovered the horrifying truth. He had forgotten to buy ammo. His heart sank into the cold, familiar depths of depression. His one chance at glory had passed. Unless…
Jerry pocketed the gun and stormed off down the street. No one noticed him? He remembered hearing that his target was staying at the Marriot. He would buy ammo, ask for the man’s room, kill him, and then slip into the night. He would settle with existing as an anonymous force which killed the man. At least he would still have his pride in tact. A few streets later Jerry made it to Bob’s Gun Shop, he burst through the door and broke an exiting customer’s nose. He quickly dodged the curses thrown at him and approached a short, fat, disheveled man with a stained wife beater and bright orange hunting cap starring at a Playboy magazine behind the counter.
“I need some ammunition for this!â€

[Anna Mae]

A Tribute to Ten Plagues

Jeff: Blood of the Nile covers our doors, Arson! It's as if you're addressing something named Arson. That's fine, though.
Your hard heart brings the angel of death, Arson!

John A.: And Fire from heaven pours over your skin
as boils erupt from deep within, Arson!

Samin: Watch darkness consume all light from above
as clouds of destruction bring starvation, Arson!

Sam: We come in hordes of happy, hopping madness.
So proud of our slime-ridden bodies, Arson?! Why is there a question mark?

Benet:…Flies consume the corpse of your first born child Good. I like how you brought that out.
all bodies rot and melt to green goo, Arson!

Did your friends like the tribute?

[Anna Mae]

A Haiku Trilogy

Flakes accumulate
in the heavens above me
then fall like all men. Very nice. This is a quite good haiku.

Snow drives upon us
and coats us all cold and wet. I would replace "all" with "with"
We wait to escape.

White sheets crushing down
blankets our world in darkness Subject-verb agreement.
but melts at first light. Subject-verb agreement.
I like the meaning in this haiku.

I've never seen haiku in a set such as this. I like the idea.

[Peanut]

Thanks for the comments and yeah, my friends liked the tribute. Anyway, here's another poem.

After Reading Robert Frost

It will be one year in a few months
And the memories will return once again,
Bringing the same voices and discussion within.

Come now, you had nothing to do with it.
There is no reason for you to fret over this event.
It is time to move on.
You mustn’t cling to his memory,
That is not what he would want after all.

I know, I know,
I try to let go.
But the memories always return.
It doesn’t matter how hard I try,
I still see his face in my mind from time to time.
And I still compare some people to him.

You can’t let him go!
Not after what you did!
You must remain in your vigil,
Especially after what you did!

I had no choice,
I was the first to find out.

Don’t give me that!
It wasn’t the fact that you did it
It was how you did it!
You told them the news
And then left them to their tears!

Shut up you!
He did nothing wrong at that moment!

But you knew!
You knew what one of your other friends
Was dealing with!
Divorce and the death of a friend?
No man could handle that!

You underestimate him.

No! You overestimate him!

Why do you do this?!

What?

Why do you always criticize him for this?
He did what he could.

He didn’t do enough!

Please you two, stop this.
I really don’t want…

See, he doesn’t want you to talk about this.

No I…

Well to bad!
I, unlike him, will not stand around
And watch as he turns a cold shoulder to others emotions!

Please stop…

Cold shoulder?
He considered them.

And did not act!

He would have only gotten in the way.
He cannot workout somebody’s own problems…

But who says he can’t try?!

Enough! Stop it! Both of you1

But…

NOW!

And then…silence.

[Anna Mae]

I really like the way you have the different voices battling; I can relate. At times, however, the pronoun "he" gets confusing. Perhaps you could use some different pronouns to denote what I assume to be two different people to whom the voices refer? Most of the time "he" seems to mean the man who was dealing with a divorce and death of a friend; but then the voice in bold uses "he" to refer to the voice in plain text.

Also, I did not understand the title.