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Quoted from SonofElrond, posted March 21st, 2004, 7:20pm at here
What you think of the new poems Lesley? Better or worse? Which ones aren't as good and which ones are good? Any one you personally like?
Honey, I don't know that I have a personal preference as you've hit me with quite a few at one time and it's sort of hard to pick when faced with so many.
They all have their unique merits. You're a beautiful poet and it's beautiful to see you have an appreciation for poetry in general.
Here are some of my new poems. They are very new so what do you think everyone?
The Great Fire:
Through the dark streets, against the cold blocks of stone there blows a gentle wind, silent and ghostly as it perches over the buildings of ancient homes, habituated of the aged gene, the century family
The doors of wooded perches, dusts its only companion, fire its only enemy, The streets of fire and intense heat
Where home once stood the sender takes its place, the great fire of ancient Europe, its surprise its plague where there were streets of enlightenment homes of old Replaced by the broken family
The weeps and sobs that absorb the night, the smoke disappearing of days of turmoil, Time of civilization the only hope of its survival, To that which is salvaged
My World:
Justice in a world of bureaucrats, absent to the thoughts of progress Its evolution a plague to its kind, victories spouted half-truths of the villains were we to understand, to take part, folly to the man is the only who follows the likes of others, mind of lesser against wills of his own objecting upon his mind and soul The discomfort, the pity of ones self it absorbs and destroys, trust fleeting, For the different stand alone, the vile a many of sorts without loyalty Where he thought he be safe he is scared, thrown by his world The thin lines of sympathy felt before are faded to a clear exposition of truth that will disappear with the nights tide,
Misplaced conviction, looks set above deeds Ode to betrayal cut from bloody eyes Set in bloody mouths, reveal words which bleed Mind imprisonment, body still survives
Stalks wary, halls steeped in night and shadow Narcissistic in nature, not in face Impulsively negative, shuns meadows For closed arms, and explicit disgrace
Punished for crimes which seem ethereal Real in vision, not auditory Grips memories as once did cold steel Lady's annoyance ends proffered glory
Vindictive end spawned from vindictive means Done not with flame but gathered with Hell's fiends
Finds obscurity within shadowed form Keeps trivial within illusion of depth Reveals naught, bared the eye of naked storm Maliciously placid, still draws no breath
Once created through curiosity Engendered through interest’s continuance Pressured willing through life’s viscosity And death trapped in life remains continuous
Castle on insubstantial foundation Buttressed by a whim, an idea’s knowledge Falls lacking Thetis’ alliteration Undesirable truth now acknowledged
From still to motion, then again to still Notion born of ideas, not of will
My poetry is often hard to understand if you don't know me..
I enjoy poetic dialogue... --------------------------------------------------
BUSTER Dust off old, wasted, distracting memories of dreams of her fading memory -- memories of thoughts of her held close. Held closer than enemies, demons that laugh, from dark sides of my soul. Memories carried away by the bird with the wings of time -- memories of Maiko. I hope -- a hope intact from where sanity lacked -- for her return. As stories cry to an end, I cry to my girlfriend: "RETURN!!!"
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LOUD VOICE Don't you remember the Jupiter prophesy?
BUSTER WHAT!?!
LOUD VOICE It said, "They'll cruise a universe, start their own/ write a bible, leave it alone!" Don't you remember?
BUSTER Each of our popular fads, such as trying to touch your tongue to your eye, playing with your ears -- in private, of course. Eating hallucinogenic bugs, voting, or even figuring out what's the furriest: a southern yak or an arctic peach! All of these fads have one thing in common: their origins were blatant acts of social experimentation.
BUSTER I dream my name/ My name is fame/ Something I said sticks in your head/ I'm style -- I stay a while, you smile! / I'm too much to touch/ Open your ear, and peer inside my lyrics, 'cuz your sin didn't win/ You see, I'm the key to your fear, a seer of truth/ The kid in rain hid from the train, a drain, my pain/ It's clear I'm here to stay, you'll pay...FOR THIS BOOK!
Yeah, I got that the first one was similar in assignment, Heretic. I would have guessed you both were in the same English class.
Let me ask you...
Is "The Obscure" about you? Do you see yourself as sort of an enigma, like a mystery of sorts? It's very craftily composed. You twist your words in such a genius way... You see yourself as light and easygoing on the surface, but masking inner depth and passion it would take time to reveal. If asked a deep question like "What do you believe human purpose is?" you would take it into very real consideration and answer deeply and honestly. You keep that part of you mostly hidden.
Your experiences in life have molded you into who you are. Your have a certain amount of instability you feel present. Maybe you see life as an ocean that tosses you around, as you say "from still to motion and again to still."
This is mainly for you, Elrond. You were kind enough to express interest in all my works, no matter the subject matter.
You know what I've found? My poetry tends to tell a story more than anything else. I don't write it very often in the first place, but I tend to fantasize in my poetry. I rarely get down to just raw emotion. So this next one is more of a story in poetic form. It's kind of special to me because I've hung onto it a few years.
Tingling I reel within, a schoolgirl giddy on the aftertaste of mouthwatering lemon juice.
Puckering my lips, crystalline orbs penetrate my entire being I savor the delicate hairs of his left arm against my right skin burning, my imagination my reality.
Tangled in the sheets I am paralyzed: he is desire, a wet dream personified It hits me. I am fucking desire.
He says no that he loves only her- can’t bear to spend a whole night without her by his side. She is the diamond twinkle in his sparkling eyes. The sun and moon rise at her whim.
He tells me he thinks of her as grass grows in spring, wonders what she is doing. Her permanent place of existence in his dreams; he is lost when she is not near.
I listen to him. I watch him-them-together. She is beautiful, like hundreds of lilies scattered carelessly over a blooming hillside nestled against the ocean.
He is a calming rain, blissful and soothing, falling ever so gently from clouds above. Closing my eyes, I open my mouth and tilt my head up.
Love me, I lament, and in my mind I hold him achingly close.
But he says no and swears to me he loves only her, with her satin skin, iridescent eyes, sweet red cherry lips ripe to the picking, to fill overflowing baskets, to tie stems with my tongue.
She speaks in rhyme, so innocent, so free of care. She lives in her element dances on stars rides graceful winged horses that soar through tears in my eyes.
Bleed with me, I beg. I am asking too much How perfect his svelte form He dresses.
I stare at her photograph... and I ask him if he is coming back tomorrow.
hows this for off the top of my head? Completely random words jumbled together in a makeshift pile of stinking, reeking sh*t....but i bet i could get better marks with it than some of the other guys in my class....
see what i'm talking about with my ego? it's growing...
Bleached adolescent doused in filmy residue Of sundry intellect and baseless glamour That dances heartedly in variant hue And lends its hand to tempered clamour
Voyage obscene in upbraided breach of faith Contends with perversions of reality unearthed Ethereal as distanced times below the wraith Who flutter gossamer wings in subtle mirth
Beneath a throne of ebon fortitude That resounds in harmonic passages of time To silence noiseless epithets of brute Now end this ridicule with a final rhyme
Lesley what did you think of The Great Fire and My World? I am not sure if you saw them. Curious what you thought? I am writing more poems. Take it easy.
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