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The Pen is Mightier than the Sword

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Posted (edited)

Hey all, just thought I'd share some... I'm getting two of my poems published in a non-profit maryland association news letter (M-Anation) I belong too... It's not much but's it's a start...

 

the Poems are:

 

'Christmastime'

 

and 'Alone...'

 

 

17NOV2001 … written for Signe

 

Christmastime,

 

Another day, as it is known

Takes time to sparkle all it’s own

And lonely ones shed tears no more

As loved one’s knock upon your door.

 

When calls are made, old friends remember

They’re not forgotten in cold December

In a rush, no time for thought

Hearts are warmed, kind words are bought

Sent many miles, with gifts that say

I remembered you, will you remember me?

 

As smiles turn inward one can reflect

It’s Christmastime, do not forget

To wish all well that you hold dear

And fill them all with you good cheer…

 

 

 

 

13SEP2003

 

Alone, but only just so…

 

I find myself in my usual state,

Lost again in that weary flow of thought

That calls on me to justify my existence

 

Aloof and alone, but only just so…

I speak to the voice, which is me.

In quiet tones of acquiescence…

For I am never truly alone

Just starved for good conversation…

 

I, apologizing for the silence,

Listen, as somewhere deep and willfully half-forgotten,

a child cry’s again:

 

Where are we going, and why are we here?

And why does our heart spill over with tears?

 

Why do I die, while you get to thrive?

In forgiveness half-given, but only half-tried.

If turmoil kills me, then I bless back to you

A Three-fold forgotten misshapen half-truth

 

As we cling and we chafe to memory’s waste,

I remember... the horror and price to make safe.

 

What is it we did, or did much too late?

To burden with lies, so selfish we hate…

 

I pull back from the gaze, which burns my wisdom so thin

And makes the reality of myself seem so hollow

to that loneliest side of me,

I, we linger in the remembrance, sometimes too long

 

 

 

For I do regret almost everything, and fear that is shows

For the mirror of memory glows slowly in sullen repose

 

Aloof and alone, but only just so

I struggle to make peace, with the child I released…

 

 

 

 

:)

 

 

revery

the dreamlost

"turn, turn, turn...(the birds)"

the dream continues...

Edited by reverie
Posted

Hoots, w00ts, cheers, whistles and stomps his feet.

 

Hoo-ah!

 

Any time you get published is a good time! That's wonderfully greatly magnificent. :)

 

Couldn't happen to a nicer dream-lost poet. :P

Posted

Congratulations! To see your work in print will be wonderful. :butterfly:

 

 

There exist only three beings worthy of respect: the priest, the soldier, the poet. To know, to kill, to create.

Charles Baudelaire (1821 - 1867),

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