Another Artistic Thread - POEMS

[PhotoFx]

no comment, you can all decide what this means.
I know, but it's not relevant, and it ought to be general.

Song of Searching

There sailed a proud and snow-white ship
set forth from harbour long ago;
Her captain's eyes were piercing, cold,
but all his vessels brought him home.

She'd journeyed far from safer waters
known and into empty cloudless
skies where all the stars were strange;
But all her crew cried "Take Me Home."

There searching for a priceless thing,
that tears nor gold nor fame could buy;
A prize that safe her captain make
But not a gift to take men home.

She'd brought them under guiding hands
to rest where fableled lay beneath
the waves the treasure burried deep
But all her crew cried "Take Me Home."

There sitting calm at night she sat,
And sleeping lay her sleepless crew;
The pacing captain watched for dawn
to come so he could take them home.

But waiting for the tardy day
to come the Earth began to breathe,
And keep from them what none from life
or death by searching hope to keep.

And watched the captain grim and sad
as winds began to rip and rend
the tearing sails and cracking masts,
But all her crew cried "Take Me Home."
Her drowning crew cried "Take Me Home."

But now the silent captain couldn't ever take them home.

[sscw46]

Originally posted by izchan
sscw46, my favourite panda, <under the rug>, could not have said it any better about the pain and scar of relationships. In which I have my own rug that covers my old scars of war.

Thank you.

[Ian the Korean]

That was a great poem PhotoFx, I really enjoyed reading it. xarajodie,I'm sure you've heard tis before, but you should probably give poetry a break for a while and work on something else. This has always worked for me. At least wait until you've got some good inspiration though, if your not pleased with your current work. Or you could just post it and let us decide the quality of it.

[izchan]

To Xara,

Some people call it a writer's block, some call it an empty well.

I personally call it a sudden lost of ability to dream.

Now there are a lot of reasons that which causes that a person to loose that ability to dream, but the most frequent reason of all is that when one has lost all the urge to seek new dreams.

When we are young, our hearts are open to everything in our life, everything is new and chanlleging. Dreams form easily from what we see and hear.

When we grow older we start to feel less and less of the world, and more and more of ourselves. Thus the dreams starts to shrink and disappear.

Look at the majority of our poems in this thread alone and you will find that most of us, including me, addresses issues that is within us alone and seldom of things outside.

When we are only tunneling into ourselves for dreams, we run out of it very fast, because as an individual we are limited in our needs and feelings. Of course there are exceptions, but in a general whole, every one person can and will have only so much of dreams when all they can think about is for themselves.

Now try to think about others, whether people or places. Think of the gentle wind that passes the oak tress or the old man that mends shoes around the cornere, try and feel what they feel and see what they see in the corner and you will suddenly be opened to a whole new world of possibilities, because you are no longer limited with your own vision of life but accompasses all the other beings in it.

If I had one advice that I will give a person that is lost that ability to dream , that will be 'Just Start Dreaming Again'

: Just Dream Again

In the dark we cry
because we can't see
the paths are lost
and the end is not seen.

Some say that dreams are gone before it starts
that people just live by value set by others
where laughther is kept in a tomb of stone
hope but a faint distant memory

What I say is just dream again
for in dreams we will find a way
to roads that will lead us to something different
a destination that will give us a chance
to be someone better and make that change

Don't worry if you don't get it fast
for dreams comes slowly at first
but come it will always
just open your heart and start to feel
capture the possibilities
so that it becomes something real
and you will find yourself again
inside the dreams of lives around you

Hope that this helps you.

[izchan]

Alan,

that poem is VERY GOOD!!!!

well done, wished that was the one that was posted in LPSIII, then I will have voted for you.

GOOD WORK.

And for Sscw46, you are welcomed. Your talent shines through even in the thickest clouds.

Keep it coming people.

[PhotoFx]

well, personally, i still like the one i posted more, and i just wrote it tonight, so it was both not an option and the wrong one for me. you go ahead and like it though, that doesn't bother me.

I'm never sure why i sometimes write in verse, and sometimes not. I think that the verse often forces things to be said in ways longer than they could be (like that sentance right there), and i really like poems that say a lot without saying a lot. for my mind's ear, Power = Meaning/Length.

which is why i try and use very direct language in my stuff mostly. I like to hit peopel over the head wiht whatever it is i'm writing about.

[edit] hey, someone called me alan! [/edit]

[blaugh]

thanks for the kind words...ill post a couple more later

this thread rocks

[izchan]

Originally posted by PhotoFx
Power = Meaning/Length.
[edit] hey, someone called me alan! [/edit]

Fist of all, I agree with the equation.
Second, you can call me Isaac if you wish,
IZ-CHAN => Isaac Chan

As for liking your poem, I like your original post too, but I liked Athenes poem better so I voted for her instead.

It was a tough decision to make.

Blaugh, you are welcomed, thanks for the kind words as well, we all here contribute to make this thread such a great place to be. The Talents gathered here are those that makes life worth living.

Keep it coming people.

[PhotoFx]

i'll try and remember to do that, isaac, as long as you odn't mind all lower case, i do it with everything.

And, i find it amusing that the one that won you over mind was one that i didn't even choose between . No offense taken of course, but i like mine the best of all of them, but just didn't think it was fair to vote for it.

[izchan]

Alan,

isaac will be just fine. I am not that picky.

As for my personal likes in poems are those that reflects things in life around us and not specifically within us.

Not that I don't enjoy poems about personal feelings, which I write a lot about, but I tend to enjoy any poem that goes for the outside factor. When people write about the world and yet be able to reflect it back into our lives, that is kind of important to me.

In most of the decisions I do, I tend to try to get a overall view of it in all the possible angles available to me. I will then be able to make a better educated decision in whatever that I wish to do or comment on.

<Hopefull Speculations> allows me to feel the feelings that I have when I am in a relationship of troubles. Which is very touching and articulate. I love it.

But with Athenes <For hope to heal sadness>, I feel the pain of the third party and not of the authors personal feeling. That is what I like about it. With her simple verse, she told a story of another and her reaction to it. And that is what I enjoy. A good story.

With that said, people perference to things are often the deciding factor in where our money goes. So Alan, my comments are only valid for me and me alone, there are plenty out there who will disgree with me on my words.

Your poems are still one of the best on this thread and in most of the other poems I have read in books or articles. I enjoy reading it because it gives me a better understanding to the person that writes it.

Keep it coming people.

The poets journey only ends when the world is no more.

[PhotoFx]

isaac, i guess what i'm shooting for is that what i write will be universal, but that it comes out of personal feelings or events that i've gone through. I just try and make it general sometimes in the hopes that people can relate to some of it and maybe feel better.

almost everything i've written comes out of a personal experiance, which is why i don't write about Bridges, or Flowers, or other things, unless somehow it struck me and affected me personally. the reason i post is

1. to let people know me better,
2. to hope for some universality in what i'm feeling, so i'm not alone, and
3. and ego boost when people like what i've written
4. lists are fun!

so, i guess we have a fundamenta difference in approach, though not in end. and, of course, the End is what counts, in the End.

[izchan]

I have only this to say Alan.

: Journey of poets

And so a beautiful friendship begins
with words that comes from the heart
and a destination that we all share
a journey of poets
a journey of understanding

can you guys hear the background music? I think it is a Yanni ...



Long live the ability to dream ...

[PhotoFx]

I hate yanni almost as much as i hate kenny g

[xarajodie]

izchan - thank you very much for your kind words. Your advice was very applicable, and your assumptions were true. There's been a lot on my mind, making me turn inward, ignoring much of that around me. I've had a lot to sort out, I suppose, and I tried to do that through the normal route - writing. But sometimes thoughts get tangled into each other and there is just very little way to separate them into logical sentences, as I used to be able to.

Ian - I have been on a drought, for quite a while, I suppose. Every now and then, churning out something minor, but very rarely.

Thanks for your help. Maybe I'll spend a day reteaching myself, counseling myself.

Here's a poem I wrote 2 years ago:

FEEL MIRACLE, CRY

She was born a miracle into this world.
She was born to see what no other could.
Born to live as previously thought impossible
But she did not know her miraculous quality.
Within her true sight, she felt only pain.
Out cast from her pained conception
She brought the poison to her life.
But as she raised the potion to her lips
Another miracle was born within her
A light that although it had always existed,
had remained dormant for her duration.
But, now, finally, she felt its heat
its purity.
And the light seeped up through her soul
to pour down her cheeks in utter truth.

(My best friend and I picked random words out of a magnetic poetry kit, made it a title, and gave ourselves individual assignments to write the poem to fit the title, and this is one of the things I came up with.)

[izchan]

Alan,
you have to provide proper reasons why you dislike Yanni, I can understand Kenny G, but Yanni? His not that bad.

Plus I am glad more people are participating in this thread.

Hope you don't mind Xara, but your magnetic title sounds very interesting, here is my try at doing it.

: Feel Miracle, Cry (Izchan Version)

Have you seen a miracle
as miracolous as time
Can you feel its pain
Can you hear its cry
As it beats onwards
moving towards an imaginery line
forever chasing a mirage
untill eternity dies

The whole poem is talking about time and how it keeps going on without stopping.

It is a bit short, but that's all I can come out for now.

don't worry Xara, all you need to do is relax and enjoy life, inspiration comes to those who lives in them.

[PhotoFx]

no, sorry isacc, i can't provide any good reasons , as i've avoided him for years... listened to him when i was little, so i assume there's a decent reason why i stopped.

I just generally shy away from "easy lsitening" as i generally find it boring. As for kenny g, have you ever read the article by pat metheny about him? it's highly entertaining. if anyone's curious, i'll post it somewhere.

[xarajodie]

izchan - I hope you don't mind that I emailed that to my friend That's a good poem, I really like it's universal quality.

And yeah, I'm relaxing more and more as time goes on *crosses fingers*

Love, Ruth

[izchan]

Sure ruth, I don't mind. Better yet, get your friend on this thread so that we have yet another companion in this poetic discovery.

Alan, could you post the article, I am curios what he said about kenny G.

thanks.

[PhotoFx]

ruth, it's just time. What's waiting if you come out with something beautiful. I know i had to sit there and ponder what in the heck i was doing when i was writing the Searching Song, i had to think, try and find alternate words, alternate phrases when the ones i wanted wouldn't fit. It's just rethinking... maybe that's why my meter comes out well soemtimes, with free, you can write thoughts, and don't have to rewrite them, because they say what you wanted, even if there was a "better" way (not really, cause it's all relative and opinion) to say the same thing.... I suppose i do all my editing on the fly, and i rarely touch them after i'm done.

just a thought for some help. but, the basis is always an idea, and if you can, it's nice to let it stew in your head before writing anything down, or else you get everything out in 2 lines and don't have anything left to expand on.

It's just time.

This applies to everyone too, especially me... i've tried to force things, and i just havn't liked them, took me much longer to rework them into something i liked.

-Alan


[edit] i'm gonna start a new thread for the article, cause it's pretty long [/edit]

[wildsegolily]

hello- I'm new to this "forum" thing... anyone care to explain what it's all about?

this was my version of "Feel Miracle Cry" written on Groundhog Day 2000.

Feel Miracle Cry

I am alive- living-
feeling- a miracle
to say the least.
I feel the surges
of emotion--
of hate
of love
of deception
and anger
coursing through
my thick veins
filled with blood
with the tears
of my soul
the miracle
of life
that is truly
the mess of
wires that
catches up my
soul in a web-
it squeezes around
my being
and causes this
miracle to burst
and makes
the world rain
one more time
shattering
earthquakes
of pain
and death
and laughter
i feel it all
and cry
my soul cries
for this miracle
that isn't a miracle
of life
but a curse
that i feel
weighing me down
more
crushing
until i explode
-i cry-
i feel
this miracle
and cry.

My poetry is always evolving, so I have a different style now than I did even a couple months ago... I suppose something in it must always express 'me' in some form or another, though.

[PhotoFx]

talking and discussing for others to see. that's the forum thing.

welcome.

[izchan]

Welcome wildsegolily to our poetry thread.

there is only one thing that I can say

WOW ....

That poem was intense. I had to stop my winamp from playing to get the full poem in or I would have burst my veins trying to do both at the same time.

what's this thread is about?

well its simple. Its about poetry.

everyone comes in to read or contribute.

We share our works and we share our thoughts.

But most of all we come here to enjoy the beauty.

I started the thread as a way of contributing to the forums. I did not know any subject that was interesting other than books and poetry. So I chosed poetry.

Here we gather to give people what we see in life and in ourselves.

I hope that I will be seeing more of your evlution with us, as we too are growing to become someone better than we were.

Again. Welcome to this journey of the poets.

I will like to thank Ruth for bringing you here.

It is an honour to know so many talents.

[Ian the Korean]

Welcome, that is an awesome poem, wildsegosily! Keep posting here we are always glad to have more poems and ideas flowing in.

Sand

Tiny bits of glass
That I'm walking past.
Will you cut my feet,
Or burn me with your heat?
It has such beauty for one so small,
Seen by the sea with the call of a gull.
But all of it will wash away,
By the coming of the new day.

[xarajodie]

The billowy crimson silk brushes past
Pulsating rhythmic hips reside beneath it
A skirt ballooning with the air rushing past
That of her languid art.
She churns not for the applause or living
She churns for the love.
The bloody bell she produces siwrls graciously
As firelight leaps around her motions
The thumping voices carry through the blackened trees
To my bittered cage in the blackness.
My silks are merely dark tattered cheesecloth
Stained in my blood and that of many once-beating hearts.
I wear a death shroud across my shoulders
And an iron across my heart.
I hear the music through my barriers and recognize its value
And yet hold my head high to its freedom and purity.
I cannot appreciate the rhythm which pulses
as I cannot stop my bloody rampage.
I see my life three feet behind me and none ahead,
too engrossed in my own prison.
The temptation of freedom wafts to me through the dense growth
But I have too long been left unattended
And thus turn away once more to the death-encrusted floor
To rub my nose through the ashes again
And drink the ever-running crimson blood.

I wrote this one about 2.5 years ago . . . looking back, it's hard to believe some of the things I wrote! Crazy.

[PhotoFx]

and, the other thing in verse i wrote. I was bitter. And some of you konw what it's about.

THE HYDRA

Heavily walking the Hydra moved slowly on,
Each of it's heads talking loudly and slow;
Arguing non-stop each mouth contradicting the
Other and finding no straight way to go.

Heavily walking the Hydra moved slowly on,
Tramp'ling the villagers found in its way;
Calling for sacrifice, worship and blood-letting,
Forcing the people to hide, run, or pray.

Heavily walking the Hydra moved slowly on,
Deaf, dumb and blind to the emptying town;
Then came the day when he noticed that no one was
Coming to feed him or bow to his crown.

Heavily walking the Hydra moved slowly on,
Each of it's heads talking loudly and slow;
Famished from hunger yet still proudly wobbling
Forward, but finding no straight way to go.

heh, it happened in high school, incidentally.

[izchan]

Xara, I am lost.

Could you explain to me what it is that your poem is trying to say?
Forgive me for my ignorance.

Will be posting later today.

Am now in a middle of rushing my work.

thanks.

[wildsegolily]

well thank you for the welcome... this is absolutely terrific. I love being surrounded by creative souls

I truly enjoyed Sand, Ian... I'm inspired to write something new... perhaps I will post it later.

xara - crimson imagery never fails to capture me



here's another poem, written a couple months ago:

NIGHT OF THE LION
the roar of passion
from the fields
erupts my heart to flames
a heat in the night
the moment is right
now it's the lion she tames

a struggle of strength
in the fields
tugs me to the source
then a falling of trees
she's down on her knees
she follows her deadly course

a hungry approach
through the fields
speeds my worried heart
he charges the night
she cowers in fright
she clutches her aching heart

suddenly stopping
in the fields
my heart begins to slow
he gives her a look
she's off the hook
then she turns around to go

suddenly charging
through the fields
now I'm the thing that he hunts
he gives me a glare
in wonder I stare
it's me he truly wants

the roar of passion
in these fields
erupts my heart to flames
the fear of the night
I want to take flight
it's me the lion tames

[xarajodie]

Originally posted by izchan
Xara, I am lost.

Could you explain to me what it is that your poem is trying to say?
Forgive me for my ignorance.

No problem. This poem was written in a time of deep personal pain and reflection for me. I saw a picture of a girl dancing in a deep crimson dress, with a bilowy skirt. And it occurred that there really is so much beauty in this world, but that I was so wrapped up in my pain (self-inflicted prison of pain) and myself that I could hear the beautiful music but that it wouldn't be beautiful to me, because I wasn't truly appreciating anything. So the poem was me telling myself that I was digging myself into a hole, basically, that I was making things worse for myself. That help?

[izchan]

Xara, that helps alot.
Now I see, though the last sentence caught me off guard.
Why drinking the ever flowing crimson blood?
Rubbing the nose in ashes means dwelling in it,
but what does the blood mean? Life?

Here is something ...

: Reasons

if I had walked away now
I will still have my old life
if it was not so important
I would not have let me die

If I only knew what the signs were
I would not have walk ahead
avoiding all the obstacles
that which burns me instead

I can only say this
I would have done the same
whether today or tommorow
I would still have given my hand
to help you in any way
Even if it would be my last
for it is the only reason
that I am alive today

It is a bit messy, hope that my next poem will be better.

[PhotoFx]

gah, wierd night, i can't verbalize what's happening in my head. maybe it'll come out later, or some other day. Good work y'all.

-Alan

[wildsegolily]

the Hydra poem- very intriguing. It actually made me wonder if anyone has ever read Plato's Republic, and the comparison of the three parts of the human soul to man, lion, and hydra. It seems the image and function of the hydra could be pretty universal in representing areas of people's lives. Perhaps anything could be universal in that sense, if we make it that way. It's amazing how connected our thoughts can be in a network of multitudes of people.

[xarajodie]

Originally posted by izchan
Now I see, though the last sentence caught me off guard.
Why drinking the ever flowing crimson blood?
Rubbing the nose in ashes means dwelling in it,
but what does the blood mean? Life?

The blood represents my pain at the time - my heart was bleeding from the heartbreak I suffered, in my mind. And drinking it, and rubbing my nose in the ashes means that I'm turning away from the beauty around me - dwelling in it, just as you said. So I was, in essence, drinking my own pain - bringing it back onto myself. Of course, I didn't really realize this stuff when I wrote it. Kinda fun to anazlyze my own poem.

Sorry for the confusion . . . perhaps it was too complicated. I tend to do that.

[PhotoFx]

well, for anyone who knows what i'm talking about, it was about excalibur, and no not the sword. twas a choir i was in in my high school. Politics, politics, how i hate thee.

[izchan]

Final poem for the today ...

Enjoy

: Final Reality

Do you hear the night wind blow?
Can you see the candle light?
what might seem like eternity
is only our own inner blight

The boogie man in our dreams
the fear that will always grow
never really leaving us
constantly in our souls

Every word that is shared
tainted with deception
covered with lies
hidden behind unseen realities

Screeming for release
the rage fights within
struggling to push the truth back
burying all the memories away

As the struggles take its toll
chipping away the armours
breaking down the walls
loosing our dear sanity

Then finally realising
which only by letting go
can one free ourselves
the eternal pain sipping away
and our lost smile found again
ending it all in peace and serenity

good night people.

Thanks Xara for the explanation.

Hope to see more of you guys ....

[Ian the Korean]

Here is one I wrote yesterday, but forgot to post:
Remembrance

There is nothing to wake to,
Nothing to take the pain,
There is nothing to make you,
Feel complete again.

The excitement is done,
The ride is at its end,
Now comes the setting sun,
Im at the rivers last bend.

The days end has come at last,
A sense of peace has taken me,
Dreams flood me from my past,
Beginning to make my eyes blurry.

Memories that bring sadness,
Memories that bring pain,
Memories that bring gladness,
Theyve all come back again.

I remember my childhood,
and I remember my love,
I always said that I would,
and I still do, even now that you are above.

But reminising has its ends,
just like my life will too.
Ill remember all of my friends,
and cherish all of you.

I hope you all enjoy it.

[xarajodie]

Ye Heartbreaker

Ye
who grasp those life giving necessities
and strangle them with
thy bare hand
whose love once never given to more than
a miracle
and who merely suffocates those who long
who try
smothered in love and affection she drowns
spoiled of her right
one certain heartbreaker
who cannot willnot stop for any
until the day shall come when she is used
by those bruised hearts
coming for their revenge...


That was written 1 year and a couple months ago.

[rm']

One
do as he is
for wee boy cry
pray: "come dawn soft"
quick drawn battle smote
"Begin Anew, she is I".

[Ian the Korean]

Here is one I came up with earlier today:

Tree of Life

From the tree of life all will spring
Into all souls it will entwine
Both good and bad it will bring
But hope will triumph down the line.

From the smallest plant
to the the mightiest beast
All will be important
None more than the least.

The tree is overflowing
With wisdom and age
It is all knowing
Like some wise sage

Though its creations are great
It will outlast them all
That is the trees fate
Until the day that it falls.

[wildsegolily]

Tree of Life reminded me of something I wrote earlier this fall... although now that I read it, it's slightly hard to follow. I'm trying to figure out what all I meant by it right now, and for some reason I find myself confused. Perhaps someone who reads it from a different perspective might be able to help me out?

I admit, the stream of thought is a little disjointed... but if you can make anything of it, I'd be thankful!

WISDOM IN THE TREES
In a world where wisdom
comes not from green trees,
but from the dead leaves
fading as winter comes,
we never want to know
of our own mortality...
or of something that could be
choosing not to grow.
And we dream of truth
as we chase discoveries...
through all these mysteries
drowning out our youth.
In a world where war
allows not for peace,
but for trapped humanity
reaching for the door,
we never want to live
without a victory...
without a 'you against me'
acting as our motive.
And we dream of lies
as we fall with autumn leaves
from the barren trees
dying with lost cries.
In a world where wishing
seems that it could be
not just make-believe
leaving us with nothing,
we never want to feel
the things that we see...
or the terrifying dreams
waking to be real.
And we fall from our trees...
we fall to our knees...
In a world where wisdom
disappears with the leaves.

[Ian the Korean]

I liked that a lot, wildegosily. It sounded like you were trying to say that humanity disillusions itself with things in life like war and lies and hatred, instead of things that really matter like kindness and truth. Maybe you were trying to compare the way that a tree grows and moves in a cycle, to the way that man always repeats its mistakes. I'm probably not even close, but I really enjoyed reading it.

True Friendship

The tears of salt
have marred your skin
it's not your fault
it's because of your friends.

Tomorrow will be brighter
like a gleaming star
Your heart will feel lighter
You know how special you are

In times of pain and in times of strife
when you feel down or low
Don't turn your back on your life
I'll always be there as you should know

True friends won't hurt each other
They should always give support
Friends should cherish one another
and should be full of comfort.

I wrote this when one of my friends was really down last Friday.