Another Artistic Thread - POEMS

[rm']

You don't need to hyphenate the syllables. Second line should have 7 syllables though. Other than that, that's a good haiku poem.

[izchan]

Thanks for your compliment ...

Here is how I chaged it ...

---
Little One Asked Once
Of what can I believe now?
Answer lay in you
---

I title this ... :: Apathy

people ... share ... share ...

[rm']

Perfect.

[izchan]

aligato gozaimasu RM-san.

[papadoc]

I really must thank
Radioactive Man for
Showing me Haiku

[izchan]

Marvaulously done Papadoc .. you are a natural ...

[izchan]

Originally posted by N e m e s s i s


To Not Feel
by John Loreth


I never thought it was circuitous,
onstage with a pen in place of a
tongue, contorting verse to veil its
significance. Suffering, faking, singing all
that’s erroneous until my lungs hold no air,
chocking on my own momentum.
Draped around me, an emotional impediment
clings to my shoulders like an old robe,
deflecting intermittent attempts at rescue,
empathy dangling like a rope thrown to the one
writhing at a well’s foundation.
There I undulate, flailing until the cold
penetrates, merges with what’s already erratic.
And on that stage I saunter from side to side,
front to back, ranting, piercing air with every
momentous message, finger slicing like a guillotine,
head estranged and with it all intelligence.
And I recite, lost in meaning

. . . How unfair that the truth was hidden,
faded, but never quite completely.
Then I press and it’s all laid upon me,
rupturing my single hope and dream. A
scavenger leech sucking, draining,
but the hemophiliac doesn’t die, the
parasite a monument to ineffectiveness . . .

The crowd cheers and claps upon the
curtain close, fabric isolating me, but
I can still hear them mumbling. Later they’ll
bow and rest their lips upon my feet
and remind me of just how disconnected
I’ve become;
talent not a gift but a plague.

This is so sad ... and it is so nicely done. An artist life in frustration. Hmm .. I hope I will not end up thinking like that someday.

Originally posted by N e m e s s i s


Only Us
By John Loreth


I could spend years
tracing your footsteps and never lose
sight of their uniqueness.
Time is gathered like verse,
veiled and bound as is the rest, but somehow
more alive,
heart and soul forever reminded of the
implications. This stanza will join the
rest, singing sweetly in your testament as
memories recompile until they shine again.
It’s dreams of which I speak.
Truth is but a silhouette there;
I can have you like I’ve always wanted to:
lying forehead to forehead with my finger
crossing the majestic valleys of your lips,
grass prickling our sides, poking
like youth and pleading for attention.
But I have none to spare, it has
all be stolen by eyes and hair.
Lost in brown, tranced by a single wish
when finally lips unite, gently, slowly caressing
like my hand which has wondered to your neck.
Inhaling, exhaling; breathing
you in to show you how I feel inside.
And above a fugitive leaf breaks
free and flutters
from an oak, landing just beside us,
but we’ll never notice.
The world has moved on
leaving only us behind.

Time is gathered like verse,
veiled and bound as is the rest,
but somehow more alive,
heart and soul forever reminded of the implications.


This verse just hit a chord in my hear ... I can't help but shed a tear to its truth.

Thanks Nemesis .. for sharing ...

[izchan]

once I read a novel from the author Orson Scott Card.
The title was "Song Bird"

It was a very sad story but one that inspires.
About a man that creates musics in a unique way.
But one day was containminated and wrote songs differently.
He was forbiden to write again.
But wrote he did because he was who he was.
They punished bim by taking away his sights, voice, and hands
but it never stoped him from making music.
Ultimately they just killed him.

---
Do not let others make you feel less than what you are.
If you believe in something strong enough, just do it.
---

Here is something for your soul

: Broken

Like so many things a mirror
Reflecting what we say and do
Like so many things a mirror
easily broken and never renew

A person is so much like a mirror
you do what you see others do
some say it was original
to me it is just people without a clue

But so like a mirror it seems
that people are broken too
shattering their lifes beliefs
when bitter truths are rocks
that hurls itself unto you

What is then a broken mirror to do?
Do you lie there in pieces?
Do you just fade away silently?
Or pick up the broken parts and go on
using what little is left
to reflect on others what you now see differently
because of a broken mirror's truth.

[izchan]

Originally posted by N e m e s s i s
one more:
Time looks upon old men with
contempt and an epoch spent
in futility . . . effort misspent scribing
what will never be uncovered.

Do not despair ... often we all do things that will never be known, greatness is not measured by what others says it is, it is by the heart in which we perform the action.

It is hard, because we are but mere mortals.
But it is because of these mortality that makes us challenge those that threathend it most.

No action is ever futile, it is only misinterprated.

[izchan]

Now I see ....

Originally posted by N e m e s s i s
the meaning is very veild. its about my memory if that helps you understand what im saying.

I saw the old man as the poet (you) and the things he did being his work.

But now that you mention memory ... I see your point.

But based on that new understanding ... your poem just went up another grade ... that is wonderfully written.


Time looks upon old men with contempt
and an epoch spent in futility . . .
effort misspent scribing
what will never be uncovered.


written for memories that foever lay hidden ...

A work of art ... superb.

[bjgellar]

"The Road Less Travelled"
By Robert Frost

[Bilbo Baggins]

Power of nature, frightening
death of flowers, moving
leaves a falling, dying
Autumns waning, winter flying.

Bare bark tree, standing
in shadow of self, calling
scurrying conies, frightened
Tree stand ever, wizened

Winter's singing, melancholy tune
shrouding landscape, death comes soon
and cloud cracks sky, failing
and snow downs to ground, flying.


That was just written. I am trying to pull together my thoughts on the weather at this time of year.

[rm']

Originally posted by bjgellar
"The Road Less Travelled"
By Robert Frost

Ah, yes... one of my favorites.

[rm']

You can't make bold statements like that without explaining them

[Xerxes]

OK its not poetry but its written so well it might as well be.
It you've ever seen this just this piece performed in person...
it is fantastic.

O for a Muse of fire, that would ascend
The brightest heaven of invention,
A kingdom for a stage, princes to act,
And monarchs to behold the swelling scene!
Then should the warlike Harry, like himself,
Assume the port of Mars; and at his heels,
Leash'd in like hounds, should famine, sword, and fire,
Crouch for employment. But pardon, gentles all,
The flat unraised spirits that hath dar'd
On this unworthy scaffold to bring forth
So great an object. Can this cockpit hold
The vasty fields of France? Or may we cram
Within this wooden O the very casques
That did affright the air at Agincourt?
O, pardon! since a crooked figure may
Attest in little place a million;
And let us, ciphers to this great accompt,
On your imaginary forces work.
Suppose within the girdle of these walls
Are now confin'd two mighty monarchies,
Whose high upreared and abutting fronts
The perilous narrow ocean parts asunder.
Piece out our imperfections with your thoughts:
Into a thousand parts divide one man,
And make imaginary puissance;
Think, when we talk of horses, that you see them
Printing their proud hoofs i' th' receiving earth;
For 'tis your thoughts that now must deck our kings,
Carry them here and there, jumping o'er times,
Turning th' accomplishment of many years
Into an hour-glass; for the which supply,
Admit me Chorus to this history;
Who prologue-like, your humble patience pray
Gently to hear, kindly to judge, our play.

Prologue
Henry V