Poetry....Your favorites, and your own. - Page 3

That was great, Chainsaws. "Who will survive and what will be left of them?" *sniff*
Okay. Okay. You want to continue sad? I'll continue sad, too.

He's In Love (6/30/93)

He came to me with eyes so blue
I knew I had to believe them
Without a doubt, when he needs out
I hope for the courage to free him

He came to me with knowledge of you
telling how you failed to love him
How you cried and teased - his friend released
in return for his love gave him nothing

I fear your appearance wherever we go
for his love for me will no longer show
Let me remain his for the days to come
when we're only in tune with one and one

Don't break his heart and tear mine apart
for he can't love us both at once
You loved him, left him, then loved him again
all the while you cared but an ounce

It eats at me now and does every day
what is it you have that he can't turn away?
You're not that great and I'm not half bad
so what you got that I don't have?

How lucky I am then to be with him
though first place will reap all rewards
You see my dear girl it's a sad lonely world
but still he sits - blue eyes at my door

I know when he loves me he's thinking of you
but I'm deeply in love so what should I do?
I'm in love with him - he's in love with you

My Valentine (2/2/78)

I know one hell of a woman
that never would let go
she tried to fight for what was right
but her head kept telling her no

If in his head there lies a love
that could be ever so true
Then where is this heart of gold in return
for my love that I give to you?

All the presents that I gave you
the best of loving every night
But still passions flared for someone
undared, tried to help you see the light

If only in your lonely hours
could memories stir your heart
Then maybe my love you do love me
and we were never meant to part

But babe, ya know it's funny
you miss me less and less
I paid and paid and cried and prayed
now our baby's heaven blessed

But lover, God above does love you
if everyone else has failed
because my darling you were my man
and now is the end of our tale

Oh, My Mistake (3/26/77)

His love, however unfaithful
is now so oh long gone
I thought he was my heaven
but I was oh so wrong

I thought it was you, and it was true
dared me to dream in brighter hues
you gave me a chase, oh what a waste
you passed me right up too

Pinches (9/3/85)

Glossy overlay smiles not forgotten
in the beginnings of long ago
Constant pinches of bittersweet reminder
like staples in the heart of the soul

Faded egos stand close, come between us
the mirror once cracked now removed
Understanding is talking without any words
What memory remains to be viewed?

Trembling hearts and still life pictures
Apathy, no - just regret
courses in romancing silence
the testing of time at it's best

A hearty round of applause for all!

Ripley, where are you? I loved "Darkway". More!

Avalon, I adore "Jericho", reminds me of the rousing battle tales tales by Robert E. Howard (can't resist those pulp writers!)
...and hugs right back atcha, baby!

Saws, "Time to Dance" was terrific, as always.

You guys inspire the liver out of me! My fondest childhood memories were of an old dusty place called Carson's Shoe Repair. That's where I discovered comic books, and learned about life...

"For Buster"

A silent old man
a shy quiet boy
One black and one white
in his shoe repair store

The smell of the polish
and pulp magazines
A new batch of comics
a new stack of dreams

From behind the counter
an old weathered face
I patiently waited
as he unbound the case

The Hulk, the Avengers
and heroes galore
Monster magazines
and the Fantastic Four

The business owners
brought in their worn shoes
They bought their newspapers
girlie magazines too

But as time went by
I stopped going there
Bought a guitar
and grew out my hair

I walked by one day
to see the old man
The sign in the window
said Closed Come Again

Now that I'm older
my dreams in a jar
My son buys the comics
but I still play guitar

His shop is all dark and
the news stands are gone
But my memory of Buster
will always live on

This happened to me. This poem hits so close to home...I thought I was the only one. I'm trying not to cry.
It sounds wierd, but...thank you.

Repairman: For Buster is a really cool poem. I'm not sure what to say about it other than that it is amazingly vivid. There's a palpable sense of nostalgia in it, in the strictest Greek sense, "a longing for home."
A great, great poem. I especially like the last four stanzas.

Dances: The time to dance... took me a few reads. At first, the repetition of the first line didn't seem to flow well, but i think I was reading it out of rhythm. (It IS, after all, about "dancing"!) I read it out loud, and it works great. The sound and pace is really cool. I'm not sure I fully understand the poem, but I like the phrasing and the music of it. I'm interested to know what inspired that poem.


Also, I have a few general questions for all of our posting poets.
1). Which authors do you like to read?
2). From what/who do you typically draw inspiration?
3). How often do you write?

I'll go first.
1). For poets, I like Jane Kenyon, Donald Hall, Robert Frost, George Herbert, Egdar Allen Poe, W.B Yeats, and some but not all John Updike. It's hit or miss with him. For non-poets, I like to read Herman Hesse, Sue Grafton, C.S Lewis and Dietrich Bonhoeffer.
2). I like to find my inspiration in things that are typically otherwise overlooked, whether they are people, objects, feelings, moments, etc. Subtle, overlooked things.
3). I try to write something (mostly poetry, some essays) every day. I usually succeed. Even if it sucks, or is rather UN-inspired, I keep it, just in case. It's good practice to write something that sucks so that you don't start looking at everything as good.

And, here are two of my poems, one pretty old, and one brand new.

(new)

Getting Sleepy
The bright pictures on the pages of your biology textbook,
paperbacked, opened across the foot end of your bed on
which we lay in caution of the cat who curled up next to
us to sleep between petitions to be pet with our hands which
we had laid upon each other, studying, suddenly inspired you to laugh
and I joined in and we could not stop.

(old)
Christ was on The Cross
The dying King, hung on a fallen tree
Mourned by the waking dead.
They weep as he bleeds,
From his side his life rushes to the dusty earth
"Son of God, save yourself!"
Holy ruler of love, his crown a band of hateful torture
Gentle eyes stained with his own holy blood
Flowing red and strong from his hands and feet,
His body, pale and weak.
"Son of God, save yourself!"
His bones break with every breath.
The shattered King falls deeper into the sleep of
mortal man, gasping for air,
Thirsting, bursting with pain.
The Prince of Peace cries out loud.
"Father, into your hands I commit my spirit!"

In the night, it is cold and quiet.
The man is parted cruelly of the tree, the tree
which held the King of Kings while he died,
Its splinters still in his skin.
The way to the cross, the way to the Christ,
Christ the way to the truth, the truth of life;
Life, lost and found on the night while
Christ was on the Cross.


Finally, here's one of my favorites by Jane Kenyon.
Let Evening Come
Let the light of late afternoon
shine through chinks in the barn, moving
up the bales as the sun moves down.

Let the cricket take up chafing
as a woman takes up her needles
and her yarn. Let evening come.

Let dew collect on the hoe abandoned
in long grass. Let the stars appear
and the moon disclose her silver horn.

Let the fox go back to its sandy den.
Let the wind die down. Let the shed
go black inside. Let evening come.

To the bottle in the ditch, to the scoop
in the oats, to air in the lung
let evening come.

Let it come, as it will, and don't
be afraid. God does not leave us
comfortless, so let evening come.




Whoo! Long post...

Wow! Thank you, its amazing how GOOD everyone is, DAMN!

Avalon said above she likes to be critiqued, I do as well, though I really don't care what people think, its my fantasy, my dream, my thought HOWEVER, ahahaha, I love praise!

Ok, this one is an epic, one I feel is not finished. I hate to intro my work, but I will with this . . . the meter, its odd and on purpose. I wanted to convey the "brokeness" of the story. I apologize ahead of time for those of you who do not know your Greek or Roman mythology and for the length . . . Thoughts?



The golden hues of days last breath
Stretch forth across a bitter sky
While ebony shapes of deaths messengers take flight
Far above the wails of where the victorious and defeated do lie
Greeting the beautiful Hespera as she awakes from her days rest

The icy voice of Boreas speaks
Faintly first like the stirring of dry leaves
Suddenly springing to life in a rageful cacophony
Blowing angry and unforgiving across the red sands of despair
Covering the vigilant eyes of those awaiting the passage of Hades Chariot

Over the rise of a desolated terrain
Littered and pitted with the pox of man
Fluttering bits of tattered garb and broken shields
Selene's gaze does rise full and round to look down upon the land

In the slivery gauze of moonlights sheen
A shape stands silent amongst the sea of fallen
Tightly grasping her bloody hilt adorned with braided horsehair
Radiant, vengeful and despaired a Swordmistress does cry out 'Nemesis!'

Deep within her proudful breast
Burning like the fiery forges of Hephaestus
A pained and vengeful heart does beat and break
As a Swordmistress does beg to the night, "Revenge for my lord do I seek!"

Once a rival to the spring
Now a seasoned sister of Demeters' summer
Faded remnants of youthful beauty's' raven locks and alabaster skin
Stands now before her lord, sun-stained and unblemished at battle's end

Gripping and squeezing, again and again
Summoning strength to perform a Herculian deed
Fighting stinging tears and choking sobs yet to pass her lips
Presents her naked branch to icy steel slicing deep for all in Olympus to see

"Nemesis hear my plea!
Your immortal gift of Justice do I seek
From this blade edge does my tribute run bright and free
As payment for your power to cast my enemies from the womb of Gaea"

"With your arrows points
Sign my name in glory and victory
Allow me revenged for enemies who hath taken flight
So I may join that which is my life eternal in the fields of Elyssium!"

"Ever faithful and devoted to him was I
Like the obedient hounds at Artemis' feet
Huntress, lover, mother and friend, oh sweet revenge!
For this loyal and loving warrior lying silent at my feet I beg thee!"


Falling down to a knee
She who was once as bright as the stars
Now nearly swallowed in the shadows of despair
Weeps upon her hands as a crimson pool forms around her feet

His hand she takes up in her own
The last of his life's warm spirit now gone
Pressing gently against the flow of tears on her face
She speaks aloud "Yet even in death a rival to Adonis did he make"

In the silence of mid-moons grace
Seeking the dark dominion of Morpheus
While whispering loves last words and curses to the Fates
Her eyes fall upon a forming shadow of shape and eerie make

Sudden swirls of robes of black!
It speaks: "Be not frightened for your beloved weary one"
The thing places its hands upon her head and spreads its obsidian wings
"The ever-dutiful Thanatos has taken him thus from this wicked place"

With strength sunk deep
Her sword does she lift and point
"You may not have him yet for Justice has not come
She's yet to deliver my vengence and put end to this unbearable sorrow!"

"Child or Artemis, Maiden of the Shield
Blessed and beloved dream of this slain lord
Dispare no more for your pleas go not unanswered
But alas my lady, Justice cannot defend that which is not a mortal crime"

"Peace now and hear!
On this field did honorable battle take place
From hence the lifeforce of your love did it take
Forever to be sung in battle song and glorious speeches of praise"

"There is no shame in his defeat
His cause he did valiently honor and defend
Nor in your sacrafice to avenge that which you hold so dear
You shall now and forever gather together in fields of endless spring"

Weary now her blade falls away
Entranced by the call of eternal slumber
Her figure prone in noble fashion and grace
A swordmistress slips besides her love to sleep forever in this place.

Dear me...I hope many others besides us read this thread. If they do not, they are missing out on some spectacular poems.

First, the questions:

1) What authors do you read?
I read almost any poetry, even stuff I don't care for can teach me something, I guess.
My favorite poets are William Blake, Edgar Allen Poe & Robert E. Howard.
For regular book authors my favorites are George R.R. Martin, F. Paul Wilson, Robert Jordan, David Gemmell, Laurell K. Hamilton & Robert E. Howard.
Definitely have a bent toward the fantasy stuff!

2) From what/who do you typically draw inspiration?
I am an infant, I feel, where poetry is concerned. Having been a musician for a number of years, I've written triple the amount of songs as I have poems. Sometimes I jot down ideas that can adapt themselves to either format. I almost exclusively, so far, write from my own life experiences/feelings. I'm sure as I develop as a poet I will draw from other sources too.

3) How often do you write?
Usually I try to make time to write 2-3 times a week. Thanks to my excellent compatriots in this forum, I have been inspired to do more! Thank you all.

Now the praise dept.:
Ripley: you knocked my booties right off with your latest! Mythology is right up my alley. I loved the language & feel of the piece. I think it feels perfectly finished as it is.

HMT: Christ on the Cross was outstanding. Beautiful imagery.

DWC: your latest was great again!

You make me proud to be counted as a poet amongst your lofty ranks!

1) What authors do you read? I love to read, my favorites, Herbet (Dune), Tolkien, Poe, Lovecraft, King, Donaldson, Carey, McCammon, Barker and so many more . . .

2) From what/who do you typically draw inspiration? Dreams, feelings, thoughts, things I see, I hear. I am going through a Separation/Divorce right now and started to date . . . much I get outta that!

3) How often do you write? When the mood strikes, I can write 5 to 10 poems a week, or nothing at all, I am working on a novel, currently I have apprx 10,000 words on paper and the rest in my head.

my heart, aching for one I could not have, but who loved me as well, lent to this bit of prose . . .

Dragon Dreams

In your arms I quietly lay
listening to you softly breath
entwined on a bed of silken sheets
we lie content above a roaring sea
the color of turquoise and moonlight
when the call of dragons stirs you awake
and you pull me closer in your arms
as you apply soft kisses on my neck
starlight gleams in the night's bright sky
and from the radiant beam of twin moons
the shadow of dragons in flight cover us.

Holding your hands I turn to face your eyes
and look deep within the well of my own soul
the fire in my chest swells just as the ocean below
and like the tide I know you must return to the sea
and with the sunrise I must return to the sky
from air and water we join to create mystical fire
from which only the magick of love can conjure
you speak the spell that holds me here
and I speak the spell that binds you to me
and together we weave a place for us to share
where no other can ever break us apart.

As Amber rays of dawn's light peaks along the horizon
Warm tears fall slowly down my face
from which you gently take away with your lips
the taste of bitter salt a painful reminder of the truth
that this world we create, our shared dreamscape
must fade when we wake.

Aaaaooooooga! This thread is taking off again! Woo-Hoo!

Great additions one and all! Please, keep it going!

(I'm going on little sleep so I'll keep this post short and sweet.)

1). Which authors do you like to read? Many.
2). From what/who do you typically draw inspiration? Everything and anything.
3). How often do you write? I stopped writing poetry years ago but I try to post daily though.

HMT, aww, nice that you connected but I don't want ya sad. (hugs)

I'm getting in the spirit of the holidays, so I'll add this one to kick off winter comin' 'round the bend. Would any of you care to share some winter, holiday additions? Bring it!

Winter Tree (6/29/93)

Branches darted outward
inciting, "Listen and be still!"
Cardinal robed red and regal
perched on nature's icy sill.
Cold waters hit the thistle
makes it freeze, stand still below.
Midnight sun casts long shadow
over icicles hanging low.
Donned frozen sparkle gleaming
the matte velvet overlay.
Green bows dusted, feathered
on tall branch white and gray.
Heavy patches of fallen snow smear
in spackled, hushed disarray.

(*Edited for speke n' spele)

Avalon, ahhhhh, that made this Southern California girl long for a real winter!

Little change of pace . . . I met a man a few months past . . . he was very wonderful yet lives all the way across the country . . . sitting in a lounge looking at him (after seeing the scorpions tat2'd on his arms . . . this popped into my head . . .



I'm haunted by the painful desire
For you to dip into my sweet honey
And set this fantasy between us on fire

I yearn to feel your scorpion's sting
Deep within the secret places of my soul
That will penetrate beyond my mortal being

My pounding heart so eager for the game
Sending pulsating waves throughout my flesh
Will surely burst when you speak my name

Hee-hee. It got hot n' spicy in here. Goes great with winter.

This is good, Ripley. After reading this I'm longing for chicken fingers and the latest issue of Penthouse Forum.

On a serious note, nice job! More, please!

sticking to the warm feeling in my . . . umm, ahahaha, body, he is another thought put to words . . .

My heart
screams loudly in my heaving chest

I fear
it will burst at your slightest glance

Every minute
every thought is entirely of you

Breathe me
into the depths of your soul

Drink me
and quench this mutual thirst

Eat me
and savor the taste of my flesh

Feel me
quicken at your gentle-handed touch

Hear me
moan my endless desire for you . . . .

Chainsaws, you do your thread proud. I love the second one better than the first and the first one is great. You're a tough act to follow!

Ripley, I like this second one better, as well.

Hello, to the rest of ya's...get back here! Pwease?

I'll add a witto one for now... heh...yeah, right...

The Showoffs of Nature (6/23/93)

Caterpillar wants to change to flutter from fuzzy
fluffy black and yellow bees sing aloud and buzzy
Ladybug shows off her coat of polka dot delight
crickets sounding chorus helping fireflies light night.

Crested cardinals are draped in velvet
peacocks strut their regal robes
There's the sad, warm eyes of a seal pup
the koala's clown shaped nose.

There's the perfect blue of a robin's egg
the sunny yellow of a newborn chick
A frog so green it's hard to be seen
as it leaps and bounds away quick.

The peek-a-boo pouch of mother kangaroo
a black-eyed wonder, the Rocky raccoon
The horse is always standing when it's asleep
How does a walrus wrangle without any feet?

How does the pink flamingo get to be so pink?
I see the purple martin has stopped to take a drink
The whites of a dove and a penguin will vary
but so do some bears, all big, mean and hairy.

The zebra and piano striped are an odd sort of form
one plays for hours and the other shuns the horns
Giraffes have the necks that are graceful and long
like the swans at the zoo the come up on the lawn.

But the funniest showoffs of nature I've seen
are in the funhouse mirror which are you and me
All hair and size and distortions too
I like being a person with three eyes, don't you?

Hee hee...I wasn't expecting that. Great poem. The musings on each animal are really cool, and the tone is light, and the ending makes the whole thing fun! We need more fun poems.
Great one, Avalon!

Bravo!

edit: Heh..I think we were posting at the same time. I'm in a goofball mood at the moment which is why I threw that one in there. Thanks!

I guess I'll post a few more relics. I haven't wanted to thanks to an odd bout of insecurity. Oh well, can't land if you don't jump...
I'm just going to unload a bunch my "eh" poems.

I'm not like this
Please leave me alone, I want someone with me
...but not you.
Just go away, i don't want to look at your face.
It's not you.
It's me.
I just want to be alone with my loneliness
But oh how I wish I had someone lonely to be alone with.
...This too shall pass.

Sonnet #2
A summer day, so long awaited
With breezes riding on waves of sun
The daytime star, with blue sky mated
Light and life for everyone
Summer days remind me
of summer days long since passed
Where summer days would find me
wanting summer days to last
Long, hot hours on a blanket on the lawn
Those long hot, summer days are done
And the one I spent them with now gone
Now joy in summer has come undone
Like the sun that bakes the grass the beneath my feet
Now joy in summer is bittersweet

The Aftermath of Wrath
God, what a beauteous, burning sunset
surely this is God's look of love
After the judgment horns have faded
And we all give praise to His
Amazing Grace
Amazing grace, indeed, this beauteous, burning sunset.

The frustrated fist
A frustrated fist, i shake in the air
I wave it at problems, but they are still there
Similar setbacks as ones I'd faced before
Right back where I started
Having less and needing more.
It's so hard to get ready for life.

In Defense of Poets
School kids often claim a distaste for verse
They see reading poetry as a devilish curse
But is it really the writing that brings such dismay?
Or are school kids poets too, with something to say?
You see, poets write poetry because of the thought
That no other poet has thought what they thought
This is utterly untrue in all ways but this:
The poetry is fine, but it is teh poet I miss.
Those who write words for a love of their sounds
Those whose naive uniqueness knows no bounds
So to school kids I say yes, poems are all the same
But find a poet you like, and remember that name.

Pencil
The wooden kind are best
Strong and long and smooth
Unbroken, unbreaking under the weight
of teh heaviness of hearts handwritten
on slowly disintegrating paper.

I think that's just about enough "eh" poetry out of me.
All you others, Avalon, Dances, Ripley...you're all doing great. I guess I just what wondered what would happen if I posted some poems of mine that I don't really like all that much. I think we all probably post mostly the ones that we really dig ourselves. So let's see what happens...

Can't tell you how great this poetry is guys! I write very little poetry and people who can write it like this amaze me.

There once was a man from Nantucket........

X

She left
the coffee shop
and I stared,
standing shivering
in the sun like a stalker.
It had been so long,
so long since I had
felt small.

I enter
and am left desolate,
left with leavings,
left to rule over her used china
and to ogle a bastard brown hair.

Hello all. Nothing brand new, so I'll post an older one...

Winter's call
whispering through
the barren landscape
The naked trees
mourn the passing of Summer
yet they will bloom again
as the sun returns
to thaw the frigid ground

Lonliness
echoes through
my barren heart
Its empty rooms
mourn the passing of beauty
yet it will be alive again
as your love returns
to warm my frozen soul

Yet as Summer fades to Fall
So Fall slips into Winter's embrace
the changing of seasons
will only deepen the love
that burns within me

Not fading
never slipping away
to be held as sharply
in my grasp
as I hold you close
while you are here

And clinging more fiercely
to those vivid memories
when you must be away


...my fellow scribes...you all continue to surprise,delight and amaze me with your poems. Thank you all!

%#@$!

Now THAT'S a poem!

I guess I'll post a few more relics. I haven't wanted to thanks to an odd bout of insecurity. Oh well, can't land if you don't jump...
I'm just going to unload a bunch my "eh" poems.

Say wha..? You're my critic and my teacher! You can't be having bouts of insecurity. *smacks him upside the head* SNAP OUT OF IT!

I'm not blowing rings of smoke up your butt, either. These are very good. Here, let me spell it out for you.

I'm not like this
Please leave me alone, I want someone with me
...but not you.
Just go away, i don't want to look at your face.
It's not you.
It's me.
I just want to be alone with my loneliness
But oh how I wish I had someone lonely to be alone with.
...This too shall pass.
======================

I love this one because we can all relate to those feelings at some point in our lives. If anyone ever told you that they haven't been hurt by someone that they love...they're lying. Flat out.

Just go away, i don't want to look at your face.

Been there. Who hasn't?

I just want to be alone with my loneliness
But oh how I wish I had someone lonely to be alone with.

Great lines. So true! We've all wallowed in self pity at some point.

...This too shall pass.

The allow me to grieve phase; knowing that there will be better times in the future. If this is eh...give us your worst!

Sonnet #2
A summer day, so long awaited
With breezes riding on waves of sun
The daytime star, with blue sky mated
Light and life for everyone
Summer days remind me
of summer days long since passed
Where summer days would find me
wanting summer days to last
Long, hot hours on a blanket on the lawn
Those long hot, summer days are done
And the one I spent them with now gone
Now joy in summer has come undone
Like the sun that bakes the grass the beneath my feet
Now joy in summer is bittersweet
====================================
I dig this because it sounds like something I would write. I'm a pure romantic at heart and nothing to me would be dreamier than having a picnic on a blanket by a lake/pond coiled up next to my man with some wine and a good book to share. You've hit my soft spot.

The Aftermath of Wrath
God, what a beauteous, burning sunset
surely this is God's look of love
After the judgment horns have faded
And we all give praise to His
Amazing Grace
Amazing grace, indeed, this beauteous, burning sunset.
==========================================
That last line is a tell all. You're one that takes time to stop and smell the roses.

The frustrated fist
A frustrated fist, i shake in the air
I wave it at problems, but they are still there
Similar setbacks as ones I'd faced before
Right back where I started
Having less and needing more.
It's so hard to get ready for life.
===========================================
Amen.

In Defense of Poets
School kids often claim a distaste for verse
They see reading poetry as a devilish curse
But is it really the writing that brings such dismay?
Or are school kids poets too, with something to say?
You see, poets write poetry because of the thought
That no other poet has thought what they thought
This is utterly untrue in all ways but this:
The poetry is fine, but it is teh poet I miss.
Those who write words for a love of their sounds
Those whose naive uniqueness knows no bounds
So to school kids I say yes, poems are all the same
But find a poet you like, and remember that name.
======================================
Duuuuuuuuuuude, this, THIS is fantastic! You summed up every single one of us in this thread in 12 lines.

Pencil
The wooden kind are best
Strong and long and smooth
Unbroken, unbreaking under the weight
of teh heaviness of hearts handwritten
on slowly disintegrating paper.
=======================================
Me thinks you could make meatloaf taste like steak.

I think that's just about enough "eh" poetry out of me.

Pshhh..if this is eh...well then, I'm stumped.

Give me Chapter 3, first, then join us!

Sad, as is intended, the first stanza hits hard; but the wording in the whole piece is good.

Heh, after reading your story in the other thread it will now come to mind every time I read your work.

I loved this poem quite a bit. My favorite stanzas were these:

Lonliness
echoes through
my barren heart
Its empty rooms
mourn the passing of beauty
yet it will be alive again
as your love returns
to warm my frozen soul

Yet as Summer fades to Fall
So Fall slips into Winter's embrace
the changing of seasons
will only deepen the love
that burns within me

My, my everyone is on a roll. I'm quite pleased. Ripley, please return with more of your sexy goodies! I enjoy living vicariously through your words.

Love - A Sestina (This is a form where the last word of each line is repeated in different orders in teh different stanzas. A little gimmicky but it's a challenge.)

As a blazing hearth and a fierce beast is my love
For you. Emotions so complex that it is hard to write
Them all down before they fly away. My heart
May seem cold at times. Cold like a bright jewel
That flashes with fierce brilliance. An illuminating peace,
Showing me the darkest corners of my soul.

A barren and cold place too was my soul
Before warmth and light were brought by your love.
Before my heart knew yours a false peace
Reigned. Your understanding has helped me write
What is within, each word a well placed jewel.
It is a testimony, the changes wrought in my oft-chilled heart.

I said before what a cold place my heart
May seem to be, how barren was my soul.
But rest assured that that most precious jewel
Which you have given me, that is your love,
Is a much-needed gift causing the verses I write
To spring forth and restore a sense of true peace.

Words run around in my head threatening peace,
But all I need do is think of you and my heart
Quiets with the knowledge of what these words I write
Will have on your deep, gentle, and caring soul.
It is often so hard to find ways that show my love.
You tell me that any effort will be regarded as the dearest jewel

My hope is that this humble offering, this jewel
In your eyes will bring to you the sense of peace
That I know you desire. At times you question my love
Because it is so hard to truly know another’s heart
To know what resides in someone else’s soul
And that is why I sat down today, these words to write.

So that you would know of the joys that you write
In my life every day. Know how much of a jewel
You are to me. To erase all doubt from your soul.
To give to your innermost being that same sense of peace
That your acts of love and kindness have given my heart.
So that you could begin to understand the depth of my love.

So together let our lives write a testimony of our love
Let it be a jewel for all to see, shining forth from our heart.
Let us fill each other’s soul with a lasting peace.

The Dragon - I wrote this after 9/11

The drums of war are beginning to be heard across the land
The smoke and ash of the dragon’s first blow fills the air, and chokes us
“Kill our enemy!!” cry the people, rage welling up in their breasts

The sound of swords being drawn across whetstones, readying for battle
Soldiers’ boots crunch in the distance, marching to war
They see the faceless face of the enemy in the gleam of their shield

Filled with hate, the warriors surge forward shouting the battle cry
The rasp of drawn swords adds a harsher note to that chorus
The sun gleams of the warriors’ mail as they strike at the dragon’s heart

Screams fill the air as the warrior’s swords still their own hearts
The wind howls over the battlefield, morning the loss of innocence
The dragon is fear and he lives in all of our hearts, if we let him


I'll post more from home.

I like The Dragon a lot. It's a really big subject that gets a lot of things written about it, (9/11) but you gave a pretty unexpected and eloquent metaphor. It's very refreshing to read. I also like it because, unless I'm mistaken, it's unlike anything else I've read about 9/11 in that there is no side taken.

Of note are your descriptions of arms and armaments, and your attention to the sounds is especially great.

Thanks! I've often wondered if the last line tried to hard to explain.

Uh uh. I think it's solid all the way through. Nice work.

Here are a couple o' new ones from me.

Deciduous
My body bends to the earth from the heaviness
in my heart,
Like snow suffocating the already perished branches
of the summer trees.
Dropping, drooping limbs reaching toward the soil
from which the burst
Growing, grasping to touch the rays of
the daily promised sun
Only to watch it pass behind the darkened doors
of God's protected Heaven,
Among the winter clouds. I am weak
like the summer trees.

When you sleep
You breathe deeply of your rest
Your curled body, curving
Your hair falls across your woman's face
So lighted
Your bright eyes shut gently.
I have no other words
So I just watch you sleep,
and dream.

This is an old one, and weird. I like it, but I can't say anything else about it! lol
If you read it slowly, I think it makes sense!

Out my window
Beautiful moments out my window inside looking into the outside for a view of myself within the small space of the room with one door but so many windows each one with a view of all the beautiful moments within the small space of the room with one door but so many windows.


On another note, I've been offered an opportunity to be published in the Albion Review "a national literary magazine." I'd really like to submit something and have it published, so if you all could look through some of the things i've posted and see what you think might be something good to submit and let me know. Also, if you think something is really strong, but needs revisions, let me know that too. This is a pretty exciting opportunit for me, so ANY help or criticism or affirmation...whatever...is welcome!

I'm relaly happy to be a part of this little poet's community here.

HMThunder, congratulations, hope you get published! Here's my favorites of yours:
Autumn Leaves at Calvin College
Dark
Shower
Are You OK
Christ Was on The Cross
Sonnet #2

EUCALYPTUS:Holy Cow. The Dragon. Rocked. You had better damn well keep writing and posting, I love your stuff!

Here's one for my girl Avalon, thanks for your kind comments in the Sex (Most romantic..) thread.
I dug this up 'specially for you, it's the poem (if it can be called that) that was sent with the song I wrote for her...

My fingers caress the strings
as carefully as I would touch you
Creating music...
My thoughts spill onto paper
more easily written than said
Creating lyrics...

Flooding my senses
with images of you
The music is yours
you are the reason
the song was created
you are the drive behind it
the creative spark of life
that gave birth to it

Never written without you,
only written for you,
because of your love

Remember...
Talent nothing
without soul
Creativity nothing
without passion
Life empty without you

I like this one. It IS pretty sexy...

Chainsaws: 5 Years is the first poem I've seen of yours with a title, and it's an awesome, awesome poem.
It's real and honest and awful, but not sensational. I think you treated the subject exactly right.

Maybe not any of my business, but...is it true? Is that you in the poem?

I ask because of a discussion we had in my writing class on Friday. My professor told us that, when reading poetry, we should always start reading with the assumption that the narrator or character(s) in the poem in NOT the author. That was really surprisng to me, because, unless it's obvious, I've always read poetry thinking that it was the author in the poem, but my prof told us, and showed us, that more often than not, the author is not in the poem.
Just wondered what you all think about that?

I never read poetry thinking "this is the poet". It is the poet's voice, yes, but the poet him/herself, no. If a poet continues the same themes over and over again, then yes it does tend to show that this is about the poet, whether it be an actual event or a feeling ,etc.

For instance, in my own poetry, it is generally not about "real" events, and much of the time is not very personal. I take more of a clinical approach to writing (which is perhaps why I don't do it all that often). I think of a line or 2 (for instance the last two lines of X ) and then a construct a poem around those lines. I try to establish a theme or a tone, but many times it just happens organically: that is the way the poem "wants to be written".

My feelings are often expressed in more subdued tones. I tend to try and write "good poetry" and I don't think about it as an emotional journal or anything like that. But everyone does their own thing. and what works for me certainly doesn't work for everyone else.

I guess I tend to do it this way because, for all intents and purposes, I don't really have any emotional demons to excise, and never really have. I'm terribely well adjusted, which makes for bad poetry. So I had to develop my own strategy to be creative. Works for me.

And by the way Dances, I usually hate rhyming poetry, but 5 Years is the best thing you have posted on here yet.

Love - A Sestina

Wow. That put a lump in my throat. You must die now. My dear friend, your poetry is as good as your stories.

HMT, I loved this first one Deciduous, but especially liked this:

Out my window
Beautiful moments out my window inside looking into the outside for a view of myself within the small space of the room with one door but so many windows each one with a view of all the beautiful moments within the small space of the room with one door but so many windows.


On another note, I've been offered an opportunity to be published in the Albion Review "a national literary magazine." I'd really like to submit something and have it published, so if you all could look through some of the things i've posted and see what you think might be something good to submit and let me know. Also, if you think something is really strong, but needs revisions, let me know that too. This is a pretty exciting opportunit for me, so ANY help or criticism or affirmation...whatever...is welcome!

This is so cool! Congratulations! I like all of your stuff. You pick! If you become a regular contributor you can eventually get them all in there. This is awesome news!

Wow. Thank you! That was sweet of you to go through the trouble. If you wouldn't mind sharing, I'd love to read the lyrics to the song that you wrote for her. If it's too personal, that's okay. I just thought it was a very romantic gesture on your part to have gone through such trouble to let your feelings be known. Like I said, she let one of the good ones get away. This is a beautiful poem.