Ayshela Posted April 8, 2005 Report Posted April 8, 2005 *sigh* i give! i surrender! since i keep getting poked and prodded and nagged to bring over some of the stuff that's actually composed in e-mail or journal, instead of creating a separate thread for each one as i surrender to the vicious poking i'll just put them all here.
Ayshela Posted April 8, 2005 Author Report Posted April 8, 2005 To Stand Alone always linked, and always shadowed, spreading branches neatly stifled, comes the wind and comes the rain but never comes the sun. stretching, spreading, reaching, trying, vain exertions, wasted crying mark the efforts, mark the pain until at last i'm done. cut me loose and let me be. beneath your shadow i can't see how far i've come, how fast i've run, just that i've never won.
Ayshela Posted April 8, 2005 Author Report Posted April 8, 2005 headache (a companion to migraine) three quarters of my head is deafened silent as the other quarter's screaming out its pain - there's a sumo wrestler in stiletto heels standing on my temple once again. i wish that he or she would go away and let me hear, and smell, and taste and see - or maybe bear down just a little harder and kill me, setting tortured brain cells free.
Zadown Posted April 8, 2005 Report Posted April 8, 2005 *reads several times* Good stuff, even if not happy.
Katzaniel Posted April 8, 2005 Report Posted April 8, 2005 there's a sumo wrestler in stiletto heels standing on my temple once again. I will remember this the next time I have a headache... a unique description for an all too familiar feeling. I love your poems, Ayshela, and do hope now that you have this thread you'll post them more often.
reverie Posted April 9, 2005 Report Posted April 9, 2005 (edited) how far i've come, how fast i've run, just that i've never won. Just an observation: In "To Stand Alone" I think you could change "Just that I've never won." to "Just in that I've never won." It's minor, but I think it would help the last line flow better with the rest of your poem... But, on second thought, it probably doesn't need it. Though you could do it. Either way, I like what you wrote. I get the impression that this was improvised? Seems like it could be refined a little more... To what end, I do not know, but it's just a feeling I get... oh well, keep it up... rev... Edited April 9, 2005 by reverie
Ayshela Posted April 9, 2005 Author Report Posted April 9, 2005 rev - i could, though it wasn't in fact written to *be* a poem in the first place. was a frustrated attempt to try to explain something, was all. after the second round of "you know..." and "did you intend...?" and "post that, please?" i surrender. however, checking back over the rhythms, lines four, eight, and twelve have the same number of stresses currently. adding "in" would throw that off, so i don't think i would.
reverie Posted April 9, 2005 Report Posted April 9, 2005 (edited) yeah, after my second glance at your poem, while i in the process of posting, I kind of got the same feeling, but I had already starting the thought, so I figured, what heck... put it out there... rev... Edited April 9, 2005 by reverie
Ayshela Posted May 31, 2005 Author Report Posted May 31, 2005 Accursed, wretched little girl - the gift of words once given her to soothe the hearts and ease the minds of all those she would gather. Twisted, tarnished gift she wields - soothing words donned barbs and blades to wound the hearts and flame the tempers thus turning love to hate. Accursed, wretched little girl - blessed by gods with silver speech; by gods who weep - now tainted gift lets devils laugh and dance in glee.
Ayshela Posted September 23, 2005 Author Report Posted September 23, 2005 originally posted in response to someone else. posted to stop the poking. words circle around me i can hear their hum as they float and dive and surface again an endless dance i stand in the middle of reaching out a hand to try to catch a few elusive fleeting words as they twirl and float away eluding me in droves
Ayshela Posted September 11, 2006 Author Report Posted September 11, 2006 (mumbled apologies for resurrecting the thread... for the newer folks - this thread is where i post stuff originally written in e-mail, journal, or response to someone posted somewhere else, which i've been requested to post here.) a worried glance, on flutterby wings, trails vainly in your wake as you stop, look back, and shoot it dead with a sigh. I can only smile and wave until you're gone. Then "breathe" is all that I have left to say. All words have been deflected by assurance - the inexorably impervious shell of the invincible or the immortal. You hope you are. I fear you're not. And still as parents do I let you go, watching you shed words and worries unheard and unheeded. The door is closed, now. You've been long due back but care does not bridge distance. Now, as I pace I wonder - If you can't hear me, am I really here?
Wyvern Posted October 7, 2006 Report Posted October 7, 2006 Very nice poems, Ayshela. :-) Your most recent one is excellent, in my opinion, as it deals with a very heartfelt subject in a very interesting manner. The intimate details that you draw upon and poeticize really add to the power of the final question in the piece, and I love the phrasing throughout it. The use of line spacing for the "breath" statement, the stirring question at the end of the poem, and the interesting wordplay of "flutterby" all stand out to me in particular. I also really like the way you personify words and characterize them as harmful throughout a number of your poems. Good stuff, once again. :-) I'm glad somebody managed to prod you into posting these here!
Regel Posted October 7, 2006 Report Posted October 7, 2006 Ayshela, Mistress of Shadows, Elder of Harmony. Have you ever wondered what works of poetry would be produced by people that have never suffered or had a rough ride in life? As I read through this body of work, clearly you are not one of them. The title Mistress of Shadows, Elder of Harmony seems to fit you very well. By contrast my title might be Duke of Discord, Elder of Acrimony. My youngest son suffers from migraines and although I have never experienced the pain first hand I have been there, watching and feeling helpless. Your descriptions of what it feels like (Sumo wrestler in high heels) mixes resignation with humor. I enjoyed your poems very much but in terms of your gift for wielding words. Most of us when pushed around eventually push back. That you choose to do it with your wit and your intellect makes me smile. Your friend Regel Duke of Discord, Elder of Acrimony
Ayshela Posted October 21, 2006 Author Report Posted October 21, 2006 Thank you both. I still feel a bit sheepish, sometimes, about posting these here because they haven't seen the careful editing that much of the rest of my writing does. (the exception being First Lines, which is always "rough draft" posting) I appreciate your appreciation! Migraine, in particular, has run through my head often this year as my teenagers all deal with them in turn. Knowing firsthand the pain of them makes standing by vainly wishing there were more that I could do exceptionally frustrating. You've my wholehearted sympathies, Regel, you and your youngest both! I've never been entirely sure which is worse - to have the migraine, or to stand and watch as someone you love suffers through one. Either way claws one's pain threshold - physical or emotional.
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