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PostPosted: Mon May 31, 2010 6:57 am
The first series of poems I promised:
(Poetry written while sleeping)
Eternity is mocking me
making me see things I cannot see
why am I following me
to see the things I cannot see?
Tch, take the many things that mean nothing
and you'll still have taken nothing from me.
the flesh could fall off my skin and
I would still be a man!
I could still light a fire without a spark
by speaking words in the dark
you can't take away the self in me
this soulful, selfish me
me me me
Though I try to escape
I come back to m.e.
Addicted, Maltreated, Abused and Misused
all the phrases in the world can't help you
but no, humanity overcomes these things
the nature of these things that attempt to define the man
can never capture the essence of his being.
He, She, Man and Woman
people with a caught soul in a trap of a body
what thing in the world can stop this fact?
He Who is Is a Man, She who IS a Woman
Male and Female, walking hand in hand to Eternity
There's not a bomb in the bay can stop this act.
Humanity shares a shell with itself
bright glories mix with tantalazing temptations
horrible heavens and holy hells all thrown together
mixed in the pot,
we seek to glean the real from the unreal
and uncover the humanity in ourselves.
You can not define me, the person or place of me
you cannot find me
you can't even find yourself, reasoner!
Humans can't be defined
not by the bottle in the hand
not even the track marks on the arm can tell you who they are
Accepting that men are men, humans are humans, this is key
Know the place by knowing it isn't there
not in the normal sense. You cannot touch the soul, right? But it's there. This is the knowing, to know the thing by knowing you don't know
know know know
repeated words lose flavor and reason
becoming shotgun syllables fired from a cannons mouth at random
seeming to assemble, only random words and noises get stitched together mid-sentence
to form the frame of a thought
the phrase of a question
the vehicle of language can break down
like roadside cars, rusting in the rain
as long as you search, keep alive
living men search but the dead can only die
if you question the holy and query the heavens
you can wander, wonder, roam about
looking for answers that only just satisfy you
Seekers, unite! Stay awake and KEEP alive
little bits of prophecy
mixed into my cereal bowl
where letters float in a white dream existence
like thoughts before they are thought up
words before they are ever spoken
drawn out with the spoon of thought
to be consumed by the ignorant and the faithful alike
TURN AND RUN, when you see the truth
for the truth can maim you
and contain you.
trap you into doing things you never imagined
dream you into schemes you'd never plot
yes indeed, the truth can get you caught.
Meaningless is the Teacher, said the Teacher
men can only teach themselves
but to what end?
I wanted God as my father
Since he didn't issue me a god-father
a father by blood, a father through god
But its a must-needs relationship
and even then, there is questioning
emptiness over the phoneline
doubt fear false
faith hope love
all questions spring up here.
Be happy? B.e.ha.p.y. bee hap bI hAaaaappy.
I am happy for the faithful for the challenge
let us see what has
where these things are going and going and going
keep the faith keep the faith keep the faith
be a warrior or a wraith
but keep the faith
it works for her
IS this really dying?
this feeling when I imagine your eyes
your pirate of a smile, stealing my soul away
Let them live, Father... let us all live
I can feel my sin and my skin pulled away
reparing, reaping the ugly thing inside
but....but....love of life, I seek kindness.
Every day, sensitive me, sad poor me, me me me
I don't care
let's not let go of god....let us go.....
rotting god-made man
take hold of yourself in both hands
sieze yourself with courage
let this vessel
thine holy vessal
be the seed of flame, and the instrument of passion and desire
and cleanse all this drearyness
with holy fire!
perhaps its all silly nonsense instruments
but I can't laugh, and crying is out of style for a man my age
LET ALL WORDS BE BROKEN UPON THE PAGE!!
dis *** emble tho ttt or keap a lyv.,
set yerslf freeee (!)
b th man u shud all wayz b
dunt stop nao
u kant stop nao
like a canticle, like a running, broken maze
such is the mind of mine with this phrase
"every poet a pygmalion
and all the worlds a STAGE!"
and every single word is a cage
if I could sing without them, then I could make myself understood
but for this hood upon my head and this brass bland brain
I could make a whole, new age
with aggregate words I can make this happen
the breakdown of language
all the words a stage
and the worlds a cage
I'm not even making nonsense anymore
trying to break
in the end, everything
trying to expresss
and his quintessential
PostPosted: Sun Jun 06, 2010 8:48 pm
Sorry it took so long for me to finally read your poem Zarn, I've been kind of busy. Anyway, here are my comments:
-The first stanza feels kind of weak and odd...I think it's your word choice that's making me react this way.
-once your poem gets going, it really gets going...however the lining could use some work in certain places. If it was me, I'd use my lining to create pauses so the poem has more of a spoken feel to it. For instance, I'd turn the line "me me me" into three lines of just "me."
-"B.e.ha.p.y. bee hap bI hAaaaappy." I read the bI as Bi...so this line didn't work to well...
-Outside of being ridiculously long, having some lining issues, and a few areas that loose the meaning your trying to convey, this wasn't a bad poem. Not your best, but also not your worst.
PostPosted: Wed Jun 16, 2010 11:06 pm
Life In The Sky: Poetic Thoughts inspired by the Wild Blue Yonder
In my mind it seems to be
that I am a ship
and the sky is the sea
in clouds that gather over the nations
I float above God's 'loved Creation.
Amen, Amen, and amen
Praise to the Father and amen again
I praise my father for the open door
the cascading wings he gave to me
so that his son could reach the sea
the ruptured heaven's part
and let loose holy tears
that wash the men below
to give ease to all their fears
Oh tranquil, fragile light!
You make me give away both day and night
the flame which burns in heaven's sight
Fire of peace and love's pure Might.
When I leave you, oh scarred Jerusalem
weeping with your children I will leave you
oh daughter of Zion, do not cry for me!
The sheperd will part the seas again,
and we will all drink from the riven-rock.
My desire lay in En Gedi,
fragrant gardens laden in lore
The poet starts to draw
and the King to prophesy
In the time before, in Eternal Night
God's shining pen writes words of living light
settles and becomes En Gedi.
My small daughter runs through the grass
cut too short to cut her heel
she cartwheels and squeals, running free
is this not everything that was meant to be?
Come to my pastures, my blind, begging brother
I shall give unto you the quiet rest of the hills
the rivers that lap against the bank
come quickly, don't start to thank
enter and live, oh beautiful, beloved brother.
Thy tresses are of a dream's design
but you would laugh and call it kind
but oleander, can't you see?
You're a part of love divine.
Don't be stressed by the demands of others
and you would call me a choir preacher
but truly! The muttering of mouths and
the tut-tuts of tongues are just so much
garbage! Week old newspapers battered about by the wind.
thy flower and thy fists are both a thing of beauty,
and do not disregard your devious wit.
Uncrowned Majesty, admit it!
you are fun and felicity itself,
and I will not forgive you denying
your sass and sarcasm.
So be crowned Queen of hearts
and in merry comedy reign over those that love thee.
Daughter of God,
your love is so unkind
because it cuts you as it leaves
you smile through pain,
and in tears recite
a rejoicing hymn.
I will sew you up back again
if you allow me to approach with needles and pins
like those I walk upon when I pass you by
I want to see your eyes open and dry
and filled with the peace of happiness.
I am shy
but I won 't lie
I love the
roughness of your fingertips
and the dirt under your nails.
you claim shame for your dirt-clod hands
and muddy fingers.
"I have handled sin! I cannot be so loved again!"
Don't think such foolish thoughts!
Think of the arrow, son of the tree
cut and carved in pain and patience.
Even the arrow, noble in flight
was once rooted and dull, with muddy fingers.
What makes you so different?!?!
PostPosted: Mon Jun 21, 2010 3:06 pm
I want to see you
covered in flowers
your bright countenance
shining with smiles
all those things that mean nothing
show me your beauty
your's is the heart I'd keep
You still have white wings
even if you don't believe it
sullied and stained as you think yourself
you still shine for me
a million miles away
uncover yourself from within
expose the heart
disregard the hurt of it
I'm the last person to be afraid of.
Don't fear my expectations
I have made a nation out of my hopes and dreams for you
not of you.
All I ask
is to be at your side when you blossom
to pay witness to the angel who acknowledges her wings
Don't be ashamed, Lasaria. That name that leaves my lips so clumsily
why do you think I say it so rarely?
Don't be ashamed of your light
you are a rose among white lillies
and a laugh in a valley of veiled smiles.
Be bright! Be the flower in the hand of God and a blade never dull.
Fight for whats yours and guard the heart you love with,
guard it with patience and forgiveness.
Shine for the soul you are, not who you are imagined to be
that grime on your cheeks is a temporary thing
wipe the dust and sweat from your eyes and stare through the darkened glass
see your future hope and happiness
don't stop believing!
Actress, Wife, Scholar
Priestess, Daughter, Queen
you are these
each shroud and veil
each is only a portion.
don't get caught in the distortion of yourself
If you must wander to find it, so be it
but no matter what, BE YOURSELF!
That is the woman I love; she that is herself
But for me, what do I know of love?
All I know is what I hold in these two hands
and the quiet thudding of my heart.
My love for you is not a belief
it is not a passing dream or some holy romantic drama
it is a simple fact engraved on my complex heart
That I, a scavenger, a seeker and truly unrequited
loves a woman who is who she is
because she is who she is.
Don't forget that.
PostPosted: Wed Aug 04, 2010 8:36 pm
It's been too long since I've responded. Life in the Sky was very good. In fact, I can't really say I see anything particularly wrong about it. For obvious reasons, I enjoyed your use of imagery from sites within Israel. Your other poem I liked as well. In this case though, I'm at a loss for comments besides I enjoyed reading both of them.
PostPosted: Thu Aug 26, 2010 11:21 pm
“Afghan Winter Hymn”
“Day And Night In Bellau Wood”
the gardens that grow in allah’s den
where the god lingers like a lion around the villages
the gardens that bloom with rock and sand, mud-brick and stone
seem beautiful in the light of dusky sunrise.
It feels good on my skin
trickles of sweat in the heat wave
but then the wind begins to bite
making me cold
when night falls
the radio, the machine-gun, and I
keep perilous company with my brother
and the man who speaks no english
except: “Mistah, Cigarrate!”
and “Good, Very Good! Nice, Very Nice!”
we smoked local tobacco
and ripped our hearts apart with caffeine
biting our fists to stay awake
eyes vainly searching for the enemy
all we want to do is kill and brag to our brothers
“I slew him, I shot that”
and then try to hide it when we see our mother’s again.
“Coming Home To Heart-ache”
It’s not paranoia
I tried to explain to her
I’m the same man, with the same plans
I’ve just endured a little
just a small trial
nothing to worry about
But all those questions
“Why are you different?”
“Why do you keeping looking at me like that?”
“Why do you keep saying you love me?”
Why? Why? Why? Why’s, are those all you have?
I am different because of the sand, the cold, the heat,
the stinging winds and the mind-numbing frustration
I look at you because I never want to lose you
And I always want you to feel safe and loved.
but what did it come to?
“Stop obsessing about my safety and happiness”
“You’re just in love with the idea of me”
don’t you see? I’m already too old
and all I want is your happiness and safety.
The idea of you? For seven months all I had was your idea!
And the cold voice on the phone
enthroned as a queen in my mind
that’s all I had.
Fear and Uncertainty
The beginnings of wisdom
that’s all I have
Some stained uniforms
A lost watch, a foreign flag
and a faded blue blanket
faded like my memories
where the hues of my experience
all mix together
Like the relics of another world
all in all
These memories, these thoughts
the nights without sleep and the days without peace
the drama caused and the love lost
That is all that I have.
“Get Really Drunk”
Rifle shots ring out
echoing in the cold white church
They didn’t say the body would be there
Mom, they just said it was “A Remembrance Ceremony”
Liars, all. I saw the flag-draped casket
and lost all the tears that had hidden behind my eyes;
staining the pretty uniform I was so proud to wear.
“I feel so...I feel so....broken.
“What should I do? How do I deal with this? I’m hurting so bad...”
“Shut up and listen to me, because I’m only going to say this once.”
“Get drunk, okay? Get really, really drunk, and sing badly;
if you must weep, weep, if you must fight, fight,
but drink the pain down with whiskey
quench it with Widmer
and I’ll talk to you tommorow.”
So I drank it away
sang it away
yelled and punched and lived it away
and you know what?
Tommorow really was a better day.”
PostPosted: Sun Aug 29, 2010 2:36 am
You've got the wisdom, right?
the way to lose my memory
convince me! Isn't it right that what I've done should be forgotten?
Where I've been
who I loved
who I lost
Shouldn't I just let go of it all?
I can't. Every memory is a piece of the puzzle
that God constructed
what it reveals I cannot say
the pieces all fit a certain way
but what they are making
And who, I cannot say.
PostPosted: Sun Aug 29, 2010 8:39 pm
Afghan Winter Hymn was very good. I loved the imagery and how the whole narrative was connected yet disjointed at the same time. It's like looking at snapshots from someones life and trying to fill int the blanks.
Sell me is also good though I think you made use of words ending in "ay" a little too much in the last stanza. With the way the piece is written, it just seems a little weird to me. Specifically that last line "And who, I cannot say." Then again, I can't really think of a better way to end that piece.
PostPosted: Thu Sep 02, 2010 10:52 pm
No, really don't speak
some moments are too holy for violent words
phrases muttered or thoughts absurd
Hear with me, here with me
see what I'm seeing
these are the days that never end
there on the coastline
too tough and mixing metaphors
my meanings are rather pointless, aren't they?
I'd rather not speak anymore
I've learned that the wisest are mute
Hear it then, that golden tone
the sweet sleep of music
the fullness of quiet
perhaps broken by the chittering tongue of a bug
the ravings of a broken, crazy insect
Step back. And Listen.
PostPosted: Thu Sep 02, 2010 11:07 pm
"Lie To Me"
Say it with me now, Say it with me...
"I shall not tell a lie"
"He died peacefully"
"Your marriage will work"
"Go to Afghanistan, you'll be a hero!"
"I'll always stand by you, brother."
"We'll give it a shot, maybe we'll work out"
"Your dog died in her sleep"
Nothing there is true
they had to clean his blood off the dashboard, he went through the windshield so fast
they couldn't even find half the glass
That marriage failed, and only one of them really regrets it
dedication and faithfulness, neither of them really gets it
I'm still cleaning sand out of my ears
and I have nothing but a few photos and ribbons to show for it
My own brother forgot me, too busy finding the answer at the bottom of the bottle
Hey, that's okay, maybe I'll join him someday
Love was strictly out of the picture, and I understood, of course
understanding man that I am, always understanding that you matter more than I ever can
And Momma shot the dog in the head, too poor for the vet; the faithful family pet that I had wandered the woods with.
So how can you say what you say? If you love me, for God's sake, Lie to Me. Too much hope is invested in the truth, so that truth itself becomes a lie too weak for words
till I can't understand, misunderstanding man that I am.
So here is my personal family portrait
just me and my closest friends; Regret and Fear
we'll all smile for the cameras, so that I can one day
thumb through my photo-album and say
"Look, son; weren't we so happy, in every way?"
Is there anything else? I don't think so. Let the truth go
and say what I need to hear you say.
"Que Sera Sera; in every time, in every way."
PostPosted: Thu Sep 09, 2010 6:33 pm
I have to be honest, with these last two poems, I've been having a bit of trouble coming up with anything to say. It's not that either of the poems are bad and I'm just dumbstruck by them, and it isn't really because either of them are so incredible that I couldn't even think of praises to heap upon them. There seems to be times, Zarn, when I just kind of read your poetry and enjoy it without coming up with anything constructive to post and then I don't post anything. So that, along with school, has been the reason why it has taken me this long to post anything in this thread, even though I was aware of these poems a while back.
PostPosted: Mon Oct 04, 2010 12:15 am
A thousand years ago
a heart was broken
even as a bullet entered a body
red poppies blossomed
how then, so long ago
do the red flowers still blow?
Where did the flowers in the forest go?
In roots under crosses, the bodies below
marked by painted wood, white as snow.
Oh Green Fields
Where did the man who walked you go?
down in the darkness, deep below
no more shall he go along the paths of home
here he rests, no more will he roam."
PostPosted: Tue Oct 05, 2010 12:31 pm
"Smoking At Night"
the shadows, beloved shadows
lo, look and see the ghosts
watch how they fade over the waves
winding their way over the cresting foam
Watch them as the leave us
going far and away, over the waves
I can fade, lord knows I can fade
so deep into myself that I can’t find myself
bury it all deeply
facade within facade
Smoke eats away at me
God I can breathe in the smoke of the leaves
I can eat the fire and fade
but I always leave the ashes behind me
to slip into the grand blue sky
their short, meaningless distances.
Thoughts? Yes, I have thoughts
I thought I could build something more with you
I thought I wasn’t afraid
I thought that love would make it
make it whole and make it new
But what would you have me do?
I am not an old man (yet)
I cannot forget.
Tracing hope back to light fixtures
everyone lives and dies in the fading of the light
shining bright, till it becomes dusk
till the bright metal polish becomes a dark red rust.
I keep dreaming
all these ideas just working themselves out in my brain
it’s a tide of thought and emotion all rolled into a bright-colored ball
All of these metaphors bouncing about becomes an image in my head
It’s like hallucination, that’s all it is. Just keep figuring things out
turning them over and over again in your mind; you feel doubt
try to learn the chorus at least, trying to sing
the music of life? No...the music of everything.
PostPosted: Tue Oct 05, 2010 10:29 pm
Both of these were very good poems Zarn. I especially liked the imagery in the second one.
PostPosted: Mon Oct 18, 2010 1:29 am
“On Leaving California”
In the evening
I see rivers of red and gold
running to San Diego
“Love in a Port City”
I always try to catch her attention
But she’s always looking for her lover
out at sea
when I leave town
will she look for me?
You know I got so distracted In the Desert
I stopped thinking about you
The winds carried you away
But tonight I came back to you;
just for tonight we found each other.
My first love is calling me
to her I must return
But San Diego, don’t worry
I’ll be coming back to you.
How could I not?
Yes, there is a ghost in my house
it is me.
Matchstick, Tattered, empty me
Fluttering around, intending to deceive
make you believe that I’m alive
But though the fire has died
there is still a spark inside.
You have used many cracked men
broken beyond repair
and now I am there
How many cracks can you see?
In every crack, do you have another use for me?
In the night
naked, and in fright
I clung to the base of your cross
and when all was lost
I sang to you.
You heard me, God
Soon, I will hear You too.
God is, irrefutably and indisputably. From this may all solace and peace be taken.
You are not holy for naming yourself a broken man
Watch your pride and laugh at it
lest you deceive yourself with false-humility.
For He who was the Lamb made thee
And all the world’s spirituality
cannot compare to Him
bleeding on the tree
I weep for my eyes to see
The Face of him who first loved me.
I have lost my right
to sojourn with the Virgin
San(d)s my Punishment
I have returned,
and I find the house repainted
yet still filled with old odors
and swinging doors
PostPosted: Sun Oct 24, 2010 11:33 am
I’ve got names written
all over my heart
it’s a list of all the people I can’t let go
It’s an interesting read, I would know;
from time to time I recite it
to the empty air.
I’ve got your fingers in my soul
Every ex-friend has a reach
he and he and she can touch everything in me
such hot and heavy fingers, love
How often must I burn?
the old associations linger in my skin
the ink of old friendships still stains me.
All I can do is remember
All they can do is “forget”.
An age could pass
and they would be no closer.
...Like a bridge between ruins
I witnessed the joining of cities
only to find that both have fallen.
If I had a change of heart
If I even had a heart to change
maybe we could end this inquisition
maybe we could wash it all away
I just want to put it all down
Madness breeds in the dark when you’re not around
and you’re just not there, the thing that guides me so
This absence is a abscess that feeds on woe
It all takes a little bit of effort
you want to make things happen, ‘cherie,
casting the magic of fixing upon everyone
till all of us are finally fixed.
Name your game and switch off the better reasoning self
Take us all away from this sanity that barely maintains
all it does for us is drain us, contain us, keep us away
it threatens us with stagnation and inflation of our more frozen selves
made in the Image
all we ask is to be unmade.
All I ask for is the flow
eternal motion, entertaining emotions that send us further down the road
and unload all of the things that we carry, the burdens other men have sold
that we humble idiots so foolishly buy; would I instead have raised my voice against the noise
and insisted instead upon a well wrought, peaceful hymn.
All you want from me is better phrasing, packaging around obscure thoughts
poetry I’ve been trying to make true since I was a child
Lilacs laying about in a brown bag
No, it was simpler then
mere cherry blossoms pressed
I saved them for a season
the reason I saved them was you
but you tossed your hair
Without a care, you walked away
leaving me with faded flowers
and pointless days
Oh, so sophisticated one
don’t be so afraid of imperfection
rejection is another string of meaningless phrases.
PostPosted: Sun Nov 14, 2010 12:37 am
I used to know a guy from there.
Well, I met him in a bar, anyway.
We drank American Beer
and smoked Menthol Cigarettes.
A year of inhaling smoke and crystals was meaningless;
I still coughed up a lung.
I called him a foreigner; he called me a peasant. We both laughed, secretly at each other. Shaking hands, I asked him as we parted "How fares France?" with a knowing smile and nod. He looked around and, in a quiet tone, spoke these parting words: "Over-run by Paki's and 'Rab's, France revolts against invasion." He smiled, and clasped my shoulder. "We're ready when you Yanks are." And with that, he dissipated into the crowd like a cloud in the fog, like cruel words to a dog; leaving me stranger than I had been before.
PostPosted: Mon Nov 15, 2010 11:11 pm
"Living in the Light Of Love; Love Essas"
Bathing in the light
cast by the fires of love
I catch little sparks in my hand that burn, but sweetly.
Oh, Let my soul be a reflecting mirror
a double-image caster,
another romance actor,
playing upon the stage of love.
Bringing back the past
little sips from bitter cup
Backwards Dreaming Me.
But perhaps I should seek myself
I’m so young to be dependent on everyone else
Shall I live through your lives so vicariously?
Am I, or am I merely seeming to be?
Perhaps thats the point
To be merely curious is no sin;
but to be perpetually wondering?
Constantly envisioning a world of true love
Consistently fantasizing about wedding toasts and anniversaries
Is this the obsessive, manic-depressive at play?
Perhaps I should just call it a day.
PostPosted: Wed Nov 17, 2010 8:14 am
Lot's of poetry to catch up with thanks to my slacking off, well here we go.
"On leaving California" and/or "Love in a Port City" (honestly I couldn't tell if they were meant to be separate or not though that might be the point) were both very good. The imagery and symbolism works really well though it does seem to be a little cliche. Still, I liked it.
Cracked and Broken mane were good little pieces, I really don't have much else to say about them.
The first in your set of untitled poems really struck me and I liked it a lot. So and Phrasing I don't like as much, it seems like you just kind of threw them together while making that post.
Lorraine might contain a description of the single, strangest frenchmen I've heard of...wait I take that back.
"Living in the Light of Love; Love Essas" is pretty good. Yeah that's all I have to say about it...
PostPosted: Sat Dec 25, 2010 12:54 pm
In thy holy athiest echo chamber;
You speak the same phrases over and over
Can't be attacked in your gelatinous posture
No reason could breach a closed door mind like yours.
Civility is returned to civility,
But how do you expect cruel barbs to be answered in kindness?
Because my God died on the tree?
Because He who was the Lamb made thee?
How sad, what an ironic comedy that that is exactly what should be!
Yet you have no right to hold me to a code you daily spit on.
I go on honoring God
You wax philosophical on my 'religious opium'.
Open your owned eyes to the truth of the thing
You don't want my way to survive
Be honest, anti-holy!
Tell the truth of your no god conviction.
Be at war, but honestly; I am not fooled by your treachery
Equality is but a word you like to whisper
You'd have me erased if you could.
We wil speak words of peace
You keep spitting the red rage
From your flamethrower mouth
We'll keep setting the stage
You'll keep burning it down
Make mock of heaven
But don't be fooled
You won't bring me around.
PostPosted: Mon Dec 27, 2010 9:59 pm
every time I speak out in anger
I write myself.
I hope that it's not too late to erase,
and write something else.
PostPosted: Mon Jan 10, 2011 1:39 am
So friend, I write this
with no context
like wall graffiti
just a random explosion
rather, let us call it a declaritive statement
Forgot meaning, embraced Dada
This is an edifice, a public monument
erected to say nothing.
Ha! Much like most things in this modern world
do you suppose that this may have meaning after all?
PostPosted: Thu Jan 13, 2011 1:42 pm
Zarn Ishtare (post: 1446435) wrote:In thy holy athiest echo chamber...
You won't bring me around.
I enjoyed this one mostly because of its subject matter; it makes a good point.
One random thing that's bugging me about it is the semicolon after the first line. I can't see a grammatical or poetic purpose to it.
The "How sad...opium" stanza doesn't seem to flow as well as the rest, but I really liked the point it makes. Calling those types of atheists out on a hypocritical view of equality but also reminding Christians that we have no choice but to answer them kindly.
"We will...burning it down" was my favorite stanza overall. But you did miss your 2nd 'l' in 'will'.
I also liked the force in the ending.
PostPosted: Mon Jan 24, 2011 1:01 am
"Just Like Starlight:"
The heart does bleed
weeping crimson tears
that burn light starlight
to hold it in your hands
is to have a world between your fingers
PostPosted: Mon Jan 31, 2011 1:09 am
Everything I see
becomes as grotesque as pornography
when my eyes close.
All that can be comprehended
has a thin veneer of poison
like a gasoline rainbow.
The noises one can hear
at night, alone with the music and the computer light
can be holy or disturbing.
Imagination takes what it can grasp
and changes the mundane to something else
poetry starts as letters and sounds
then draws itself up to become a different self.
In the face of this putridity
these disease clouds which seems to touch every article of clothing
those decent sounds called songs
how do you defy it?
Innocence, raising its bruised head
trembles at the sight of the world it's been born into
and endures cruelty to its person
until it dies.
How does one replace a thing so easily lost?
or find it again so unexpectedly?
No holy man immortalizes his struggle in these phrases
no christ-like figure, ready to be preserved between pages
I am not so different.
a simple voice, a single song, and the prayer of peace
doesn't seem to change anything
yet it makes the whole world, for a short while
"Noise and Poison"
PostPosted: Sat Feb 05, 2011 1:21 am
"Essa's Again: New Collection"
Drawing away from all the little anchors
the soul takes bolt-cutters to chain,
trying to break out of the cage
precariously built of lies and ciggerettes.
The poison is tattooed inside of him
so hard to remove
Fighting it like a parasite
fighting the bitterness, too.
The man in the mirror changes faces
vocabulary and accents
trying to find the perfect fit
the perfect fiction
denying tommorow, hiding in today
each second was so tightly gripped
don't let these few peaceful moments go
Is it still running away if you're not actually going anywhere?
Put on the clothes of an impartial man
wear the face of the judge at a hearing
a priest at the graveside
Do just what everyone else is doing
scream at dust motes
yet shrug off Atlas's burden
Congratulations! My felllow Man.
There are spirits moving in the blue waves
riffs of wild music running across my soul
the speakers act just like fountains
erupting pure sounds everywhere
the beautiful monotony of the bass
the screaming angelic cries of the guitar
the slow throaty moan of the vocalist
trancending what exists
for a moment
the cd skips
The cities I have built in my head
are populated with every wrong thing I've ever said
but everything I've ever said to you
G_d help me, it was true
it was all true
no matter what it did to you
I would have been crueler if I could
if only to make you feel this
If I could make you regret
If I could for one second forget
that those cold ashes left in me
you set me on fire then left me to burn
I don't love you anymore, but I still want you to churn
with the same empty promises and seven year old lies
"Of course I'll always be by your side"
If only so you'll never do it again
Or maybe It'll be like my sister
picking up the ruins of those you left behind
three, four months ago you were still blind to your faults
G_d help me, so was I
all I ever wanted was to see you smile
now I just want to make you cry
let the tears of shame and guilt fall from your eyes
just so you'll let go of this false life you despise
(I KNOW YOU DESPISE)
and die to sin
and with that, never die!
But look at me still trying to fix you
with years and tears and crying phone conversations
flights and bus rides and promises
I never wanted this emotionless regret
forgive? Maybe. But first
Kick out the support beams
raise your fist to the sky
with an animal cry
Rage against everything
It's so much easier
than thinking things through.
save me save me save me!
that's what everyone subconsciously screams
kids, you're all flailing in shallow water
here's a rope
PostPosted: Sat Feb 05, 2011 6:20 am
Ok, gah (shakes head) - haven't I been released from writing reviews on literary pieces since I finished English 101? 102? 210 (Creative Writing)? what about that 300 level Japanese history course with a teacher who constantly bragged about coming "from OXFORD! OXFORD I TELL YOU!" ? <- and now she's stuck at an Ivy League wannabe.
Apparently not, but at least make some snarky comments about my writing in the new N&S.
Ok, I think I like the third (set of) piece(s) better then the first or second. I say piece(s) because I'm not sure if this is one poem or several, and I actually think it would be better as several.
The first 3, then 2, 1 & the word, 2 & 1 stanza(s) seem to be almost separate poems.
One other thing I've noticed concerns this line,
Is it still running away if you're not actually going anywhere?
It's cunning, but it seems to break the meter (as do the other stanzas, if not taken as completely separate poems).
I can't precisely grasp the meaning of these poems (which is a shame because they seem to be discussing something outside of love or depression - topics too oft visited in poetry) - but poetry interpretation was never my strong point. Of course, their meaning seems, most likely, to reside within the secret chambers of the poet, so perhaps it's not meant for us to understand, but rather, to simply observe.
PostPosted: Sun Feb 06, 2011 12:17 pm
Sadly I have no constructive criticism/praise this time Zarn. So this is one of those "I like your poetry and its good" posts.
PostPosted: Thu Feb 10, 2011 1:48 am
"The Convicted Essa's"
what I should have said
is that every prayer
is like a meteor in reverse
fast as thought from your mind
to the heart of God.
So many strange visitors in the night,
fear of the future
fear of the present
a general state of fright
to my everlasting suprise
God was there too.
We bring ourselves low to the ground
arms ahead, palms facing down
in simple acceptance of what we see
the sight of Him who first loved me
He has shown me what tears are for
instruments of instruction
reminders of memories
ward against regrets
thank you for the lesson, Father
I will not forget.
Bless the Name
Your best friend of eternal Fame
how can it be?
the man who died alone on a tree
and the father-maker of eternity
are not only one, or two
What a divine mystery!
for your everlasting love
this heart full of potential, promises, and other words that start with p,
I give to you again
forever and ever
PostPosted: Thu Feb 10, 2011 1:56 pm
Don't ask, its just a lot of words that sound interesting together.