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The Pen is Mightier than the Sword

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Posted

I have way too many poems to post in here but here are a few of my better ones...

 

 

Memorial to P.J.

one gun

one bullet

one life

What would we give to see you again?

You should be twelve,

To swim in the creek,

Bring home frogs in your pockets,

eat toasted marshmallows, and later,

to catch fireflies…

Instead,

I jump at every closing door,

every knock, every footstep,

a single gunshot echoing and re-echoing in my mind.

Where are the muddy hands, now, to wash?

The ragged pant-knees to patch?

Gone, all, but a great dark stain on the carpet

Life-blood, too precious to wash away.

Dear God,

What were you thinking?

 

 

A dream of Sun and Day

 

Once in a dream,

in spacious darkness

a maze of tombs trapped me,

pacing endless circles

in the quest for freedom—

While all around me, crumbling

symbols of humanity stood,

lost souls, petrified with a clinging evil

easy to sense but not to flee.

 

Once in a dream,

Through dulling senses, faint,

I hear a church bell’s toll—

see the resentful darkness parting

for a living emerald,

a Lady, flooding her life-light

through every statue in the tomb—

but I, in seeing such joyous abandon,

fled cowering in unreasoning fear.

 

Once in a dream

I hid in my cowardice,

still the Lady Sunday found me

took my hand, and led me

gently to a door.

Then I awoke, and seeing

morning sunshine, knew-

she had not gone, but merely changed her form

to light my way once more.

 

Published or Bust!

 

Inspiration is a fleeting thing-

any writer knows that.

My words fall like teardrops onto the page

and I chop down my dreams

to fit proper rhyme schemes...

Can I help it if "the Moon in June"

sounds better than "the Moon in September"?

Polish, They say, polish.

"Poetry is an art easy to dabble in;

hard in which to reach true perfection"

Well!!

I don't believe in sonnets--

So there, Shakespeare!

My words flop and whither as I write

fading to a façade of grandeur-

So like the simple truth behind them;

And in my mind nightmare Editors

whisper through sullen lips,

"She cannot write!

She never will! She is a child"

And so I'm here,

scribbling down this bit of myself

for me to see;

I'll show myself.

I will-I will!

I must.

 

Fairie Touch

 

If you wash your face in dew

On the first of may--

I’ve heard that you’ll receive the Touch--

Fairie beauty for a day.

The story goes, or so they say

The Fairie Touch is sure

To make a lass Queen of the May

But then, she must endure

The many many many

Compliments, and remain humble--

Or else, the Queen of Fairies frowns

and swears to bring her trouble!

 

Northern Lights

 

Cold, cold fire running

Running rippling free

Shining river-sea of light

Over my head

Over my dreams tonight

 

Raise, raise my spirit

Spirit harmonies free

A symphony of sight

Into my eyes

Into my thoughts tonight

 

Night, night starlit rainbows

Rainbows shimmering free

A lasting memory bright

Into my heart

Into my soul tonight

 

Dusk To Dawn

 

Night-fall

Night-fall Dark-fall Eve-fall

Catch the day’s dying breath

Savor it

Wrap yourself in mystery…

 

Sky-bright

Sky-bright Star-bright Moon-bright

Clinging skeins of silken radiance

Weave them in

Weft of ancient magic…

 

Cloud-red

Cloud-red Blood-red Morn-red

Mourn the gently dying night

With fevered dancing

Pulse of day’s beginning…

 

Gecko Dreams

 

My Listless Life...Ah, comforts fount in dreaming!

I lie like the gecko in the sun,

still, waiting for Fortune to flutter by,

yet I am burned by Cruel Experience--

I strive only to slumber in peace.

So deep, my dreams, and so full of wonders--

as if I wander nightly, free, in Paradise

and I fall willing prey to such forgetful bliss.

Fortune, flutter by--

I care for naught but sleep.

Can our awakened world be so bright?

Our reality, be more fulfilling?

I cling to sweet illusions, hoping

that in a place where dreams are real

old wounds can, maybe, heal,

and joy, jewel-faced, may gleam once more

within my reach.

 

Evening on the farm

 

The hay is up, the cows are in…

the pigs are grunting in the sty…

The barn-doves mourning with their kin…

the smell of cooking wafting by…

 

For now at last my day is done...

so softly sings the robin near...

and through my window sets the sun...

thus entertaining eye & ear...

 

Such sweetness settles round about…

when twilight stains the glass-clear sky…

and labor-weary we all bow out…

and listen to Night's new lullaby…

 

 

 

Gray Day

 

The world is sad today—

Gray skies,

Dove-colored eyes

Through which the soul of the world

Can be seen, weeping.

And my soul, too,

Is swept along

In a current of stormy tears.

To view great sorrow

Only brings us pain…

Why, then, does it bring such comfort,

joining the rain?

 

 

Twilight Puzzle

 

Wind blows, Trees rustle far away—

Through your window I can hear the night

Bring me a candle, hold me closely

As I flicker, cup your hands about me…

And I’ll find a way to follow

The scent of your body, sweet and dim

Twilight Puzzle, do I fit in?

 

Thunder rumbles, doves call out in fear—

A wisp of lilacs’ deep perfume

All of the world is singing, softly,

As I listen, will you wait with me?

I would give you all I cherish

But the look on your face, so cruelly kind

Twilight Puzzle, must I be blind?

 

Star-light in sunset, frost hinted in the air—

The tang of earth, an odorous pall

Lifting the curtain, watch the moon rise

So you linger, to let me think I’m free

Still I cling to rotted fantasy

Until your body blocks the light

Twilight Puzzle, how can I fight?

 

 

After the beginning

 

Before the storm breaks,

I sit melancholy in the lamplight-

Fragile light that whispers

dark memories into my mind.

A cool breeze stalks by,

tossing my hair and hissing

softly through the trees.

I have survived one storm-

the angry roars like wind

the flashing eyes, the threatening rumbles;

the bitter curses falling like rain-

and so I sit, and wait as one storm passes

and another begins.

Posted

I like most of these poems, Harmony. :-) I think my favorites of the bunch are probably "Memorial to P.J." and "Published or Bust!," with the personal nature of the former and the comic tone of the latter both resonating with me. These poems as a whole show a very broad range of talent, since the romantic nature and dream poems seem just as nicely written as the more personal mood poems. I also like how you give us a taste of both your experiments with free form and your rhyming poems in this selection, as following up a personal free form piece with a piece that plays with language kept things interesting. I'd say you should definitely ignore the "nightmare Editors" of "Published or Bust!" and keep up the good work.

 

Thanks for sharing these with us here, Harmony. :) Welcome to the Pen, I hope you enjoy the many eccentric writing folks here. Out of curiousity, do you have a preference when it comes to writing personal poetry or romantic dreamy poetry?

Posted

Acutally, I have a hard time writing poetry that isn't entirely free-verse and/or depressing in nature. Most of my works are written when I'm feeling bad! For instance, Dusk to Dawn, Gecko Dreams, Grey Day, Memorial, Twilight, and After the Beginning are all about sad or bad experiences. I don't have many romantic poems! Here are a couple I'd call 'romantic'--

 

Motorcycle Ride

 

My laughter building,

Bubbling up in me on a summer’s evening

A motorcycle ride, just you and I

My mind is spinning,

Full of your scent as we are riding,

So close, my arms wrapped tight around you

 

Wind, fall far behind,

We two will conquer you--

Sing in our ears a harmony

We are

in tune

 

For I’m feeling the way we fly

Feeling the stares of passers-by

In their eyes I see their envy

As we roar on by

 

Road, lead us onward, forward,

Casting our eyes ahead

Our cares far behind

Smooth and free,

we’ll soar

No secret care could break,

or take, this magic from us

 

My heart is burning,

Wishing this ride would never end,

Feeling the chill of sunset, washing over us

So sad to go, I don’t even want to leave

Twilit stars winking their pleasures

At us down below

Out on our motorcycle ride

 

Baby I lied

We were eager once

In the springtime nights together

And I held your heart

And I know that you held mine

I have come to know, now

That all we have together

Rests on those sweet hours

Those sweet hours that will never come again

I know you love me still

I know you always will

I love you too

You know I do

Oh I have tried and tried

To stay by your side

but I lied when I said I was true

I love you so, but Baby I just can’t stay with you

 

Ice Cream in the Rain

 

Do you remember that sweet march day

Just barely warm enough

To go out for ice cream

Do you remember the thunderhead

that rolled on in

While we sat under the Dairy Queen

sunroof outside?

 

How we laughed and shivered

As the rain poured down

How the thunder crashed around us

And we minded not a bit

Mixing ice cream and rain

With kisses

And as spring broke around us

It lifted us up in a flawless joy

As the years go by

And we toil in strife

We often forget how much we have

And in march, when the wind

Is blowing thunderclouds in

Can we still eat ice cream in the rain

 

See what I mean? None of those are any good at all, except maybe the motorcycle one...and even that's not great. I'm just not good at expressing my romantic side in poetry...

Posted

Now comes our newest poetess

 

into our quiet vale

 

Pouring the the product of her pen

 

into a silent spell

 

 

 

So tearfully seems she to think

 

as she scribes her verse

 

that as not what could be,

 

it is all a waste of ink

 

 

That loses my perceptions,

 

it goes against proverb.

 

Or am I the only one been taught

 

That's for beholder's words?

Posted

Hi Harmony! So sorry I'm late in welcoming you to The Pen. >_< My Bad! *giggles*

 

Thank you very much for the works that you shared with us. I really enjoyed them. My preferences would have to be "Memorial to P.J.", "Evening on the Farm", and "Published or Bust". I get to see a different side of your personality in each piece and you can feel the emotion in each one. I look foward to your future pieces and am so glad you have decided to hop in for a spell! *HUGS* :flower:

Posted

Thanks, AuroraAoD!

Here are a few more poems...

 

Old Temptations

O Temptation,

Dear Old friend-

Have you come a-haunting me

A-haunting again?

Standing ever by me

On Razor’s edge I’ll tred;

While you teach the facts of life

Night is Black, Blood is Red.

You must hold your foes close

but hold your friends away,

lest they become too close,

And know

to get away from you…

O Temptation

I'm feeling your old flame

Have you come a-haunting me

a-haunting

Again?

 

Trapped

Sinking

Choking

lungs screaming for air

it is hard to die-

still harder to live-

dark water

foaming over my eyes

Over my head

bubbles fleeing from my sight--

The frenzied scrabble

of my hands

slows, and now

my head is throbbing

with the nearness of death

Dark water whispering

sleep, sleeeeep…

yet my numb fingers close

around a car's door handle

and I am free!

Soaring up

breaking the surface

gulping air, my heart racing

Realizing

I will not die today!

 

Magic Lantern

I am a genie in a golden lamp

My magic lights the way for others here

Yet, trapped inside my cell I cannot see

The light that shines from me

 

You are the genie in the lamp I hold

Your magic lights my pathway through the night

I wish to break your bonds and set you free

To shine for all to see

Posted

Two Hearts in Love

 

We are two hearts in love

My soul, my eyes

A heart that longs

That lingers with a gentle touch,

And too, a heart that cries.

We are two hearts in love,

My self and I

A heart un-shy

Ravenous and cunning

Starving for excitement.

So we feel shame

And shamefully take our prize

live just to lift our bloody trophy high;

And my two hearts weep to be clean

Of our sweet, ghastly sin.

We are two hearts in love,

Our hour is near

For ending love’s embrace

Forevermore.

 

 

In the Dark

 

Feeling my way in the dark

I strike a match

On my calloused heart

And watch it burn awhile

A candle’s no use here

This darkness surrounding me

Is a part of my soul

My tears fall, pointless now

Like the match,

Falling dead from my fingers

Light gone

Leaving me to feel the burn

In the dark again

 

How To Warm February

 

What do you make of February?

The coldest month of the year-

The most drear--

A time best spent in school,

Spring dances,

Or otherwise huddled

In groups to keep warm.

And yet, for all its many

Weatherly problems,

It is known to many

as the month for love?

Perhaps our dear

Saint Valentine

In all his wisdom recognized--

That a little love goes a long way--

and love is by far

The best heater of them all.

 

For a tree’s life

 

I wish that I could be a tree;

I’d fly fast and far on stiff wooden wings,

Settle deep into dark, forgiving earth,

And there begin to grow.

I’d turn out my leaves fresh and new every spring,

And put my flowers on display for awhile,

Birds might nest in my branches,

Children might carve their initials,

And I wouldn’t need to care.

I’d bend when the wind blew,

Revel at the Sun’s touch,

Stand naked outdoors in the coldest of winter,

And sigh softly for joy when the rain fell,

Using my leaves and branches as the instrument

Of my happiness.

Posted

Here's a few more, first some REALLY old ones...the first two I wrote when I was in 8th grade, when I first met Muse....and then a few from my high school years(when I was really into having everything rhyme and rhythem out just right), and then a few later ones, better ones, towards the end.

 

 

Friendships

 

Friendships

Small fragile circles

Swirling colors of sadness

Or joy

A school of bubbles

Fading, brightening, tempered

By words and thoughts,

By dreams and ambitions

Small groups of humanity

Taking life as she comes

Some bubbles pop,

Flinging anger and hurt

On to others as well

But after awhile

A vagueness of youth

Gives way, as we find

Our own version of reality

Bonds strong, walls high

No newcomer can break our shells

We must open of our own will

And let new friendships grow

 

Pass me by

 

You who are my friend,

(You make me laugh, on days that are gray

If you would stay my friend,

(When you see me, I will smile)

Don't pause—

Don't stop or look deep into my eyes

Don't pause

Don't try to lift the mask on my face

Because if you look beneath

You will not see anything at all,

I am a hollow, empty, breathless shell,

Of what I used to be, in

The days when I was truly me..

You who are my friend,

(A bright flower in the desert of life),

If you would stay my friend

Don't—don't pause—

Pass me by

 

The Adoption

Bitter-sweet-

This tiny One I held

For but a moment-

I wonder as I wander though the hallways of my soul.

These tears, this joy,

this pain-

Will it ever be enough?

Small one,

So soft, so warm, so helpless,

So very mine—

Yet never was and never will be mine.

My heart sobs for your scent,

Trembles at your cry,

Just one more glance, one more touch-

Just one, and then I’ll go and let you be-

I’ll send you off to live your life

without me

Don’t cry, you’ll love them-

They’ll love you-

But never while I still draw breath

Will I forget this,

my

Bitter-sweet

moment with you…

 

I Am the Queen

I am the queen of unjust smiles,

secret plans, hidden files,

I creep around a question asked-

then run for miles.

 

I’m Empress of mournful cries,

stained hands, reddened eyes,

I never care, I do my task-

but in disguise.

 

I share with you this piece of Fate,

Love and trust, never wait,

my heart was lost between the lines-

now it's too late.

 

The Poplar and the Willow

The willow fair and poplar grow

side by side on a hillside green;

together they watched o'er the forest below,

and the animals, grass, and weeds.

 

The sturdy oak and the pine watched too,

Side by side on a hill nearby

They watched o’er a busy, and militant spot

Where a city soon came to rise.

 

They stood tall above their fast-paced world,

Looking down on it all with pride;

Until men with saws came and cut them down

To build scrapers for the skies.

 

The oak and the pine once mocked the two

as they guarded their simple spot;

but the poplar and the willow wept

when they saw their friends' trunks cut.

 

The poplar and willow were kinder than

the oak and the pine had been;

Though if you are any kinder than I

still remains to be seen.

 

This Too Shall Pass

It was long ago o'er the darkened fields,

'mid the clouds of fatal gas,

That a colonel beckoned his private near,

and he said "This too shall pass."

 

It's been longer still since a mother wept

for her daughter was breathing her last;

As she died, the child looked up and smiled-

"Don't cry, Mummy. This too shall pass."

 

Far out at sea lay a sinking ship,

ripped by enemy cannon blast

And as the sea buried broken bodies

it whispered "This too shall pass."

 

The ship has rotted, the mother is gone,

and the fields are covered with grass-

Though your hope be worn and your life, war-torn,

Just remember, This too shall pass.

 

 

Limerick

A portentous young Porpoise one day

declined to leap in the spray

Said He “’Tis most cold,

And as I’ve been told

I might freeze right to death as I play.”

 

RATS.

Are they rodents?

Or neighbors?

They scurry, crawl, pay taxes.

Burn trash in barrels.

Peek in my windows,

Scoffing,

At my lack

Of a tail…

 

Chaos’ Snowflakes

 

We sparkle we

Sing a song of sixpence

Read A Catcher in the Rye

See Baby’s little thumbprint

Baked in the pie

The silverware all disappear

And the Doggy in the Window

So kill another Mockingbird

And hang your head low, love

Like Jack Frost’s merry snowflakes

We all dance for Mother Nature

And as the sun rises and falls

We shine, in a chaotic life

 

 

Riddle

She wears the scent of autumn

mellow and sweet and bright

When twisted ‘round with cinnamon

Christmas comes to mind

Merry, she flowers in spring-time

Picture a Robin there;

And in Autumn you see her

With jewels in her hair.

 

Of Caramel Apple Dreams

 

Candied apples in the fall

once spoke to me

of lanterns

of campfires

warm summer nights

and overnight trips to the lake.

But now candied apples hurt my teeth

and lanterns hurt my eyes…

somehow

campfires are drear

mosquitoes hover, ever near

and even summer nights

are cold

when you’re older…

Lakes grow into swamps

grow into meadows

and time unmerciful

spoils even

my candied apple memories.

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