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solemn lines.
This page is currently awaiting some lovin' from the poems I need to get from my Elftown wiki.
Patience, children.
I'm bored, so I'm gonna write some commentary about my poetry, or at least what it meant for me. I'm open to interpretation, and if you see something, I'd love to know about it so I can repeat it and sound all scholarly and stuff.
rhuaidecomments
On with the Poetry
Beg For Her Name
It had been so long since I had seen light
My eyes were blind and I cowered in fright;
My head was hurting from all of the dark,
And I had been concealed from Cupid’s mark.
I saw the paint, looked away,
Heard the words, tried to stay.
The books lay open to a page I hadn’t known,
The page I saw being written would be my own.
Flurried by feelings, then hit by remorse
I felt the laws of nature taking their course.
Stuck in a place where I did not belong,
My angel smiled and wandered along.
The writing is on the wall,
Dwarfing lost feelings that are small.
In a blink and a twist the rock was destroyed,
A time from the hard place I now enjoyed.
Angels sigh to hear her name, a golden bell
Hung in my heart, but with its plaintive knell --
Would it shatter and fall in shining rain,
And I should never be blessed to hear it again.
********
Unbroken Haze
Silver and green, untarnished between,
The darkest of days you have ever seen,
Watch the grass grow, on high from low;
Eyes so wide they watch it die, you know.
They bring this gift, but also death swift
Flies on the wings of the opened rift.
Pouring down hard, with power none can retard,
The mist of a smile fades when they strike the garage.
Send your message in brothers of passage,
But ask them to breathe and try to assuage
Something as greedy as the needy are for love.
Stop and move, pain and soothe, light from above.
Fall and be brightened, grant pleasures to the frightened,
Give and take and go again to come enlightened.
Sigh, cry, but don't be fazed; Sit back and let me amaze
With the sight of the soulful unbroken haze.
********
Remain the Same
Everyone tells me I need to change
That nothing could go well being the same
That days aren't days when you medicate
Well I'm sick of it, I can't wait.
Leave me -- to rot, and die, 'cos
I'm sick of your stupid laws
I can't take the flapping of your jaws
I wanna leave, and I can't wait.
Till you're ready to see the way
That I'm trying to remain the same
To keep myself grounded and sane
And wait for another day
To waste away
And remain the same.
And so I pray
For the darkest day
When you will stay
And help retain
The best of me
The best of "we"
The rest of me.
Can you feel my pain
When you scream my name?
These things you feign
Are still nothing
Empty. Untrained.
********
Any Colour You Like No relation to the Pink Floyd song, by the way...
I'll be any colour you'd like to see
Colour me black, or white, or red.
I'll be the everything I could be
If the colours are straight the day we wed.
Thinking of becoming a blue eyed horror
A green eyed lover and fighter
Looking into the windows and mirror
I see that they're a shade lighter.
My hair could turn black if you'd like
Or blonde, silver, dowsed with gold
Not there? It'll still be your like
But red is all I offer at this fold.
Would you like my tie to be white sky?
My suit to be onyx stone, or green?
I could bring yellows if that'd fly;
I'll be the most amazing you've ever seen.
I'll try still make it great for you
If you will let me do this deed
I'll be any saturation or hue
I'll be any colour you need.
********
Montage
It's all a fading dream...
I lost your love and split my heart
To the core, at the seams,
Across the land, over the ocean, apart.
All isn't lost or gone away
I'm living now with memories of you
I watch the sunrise, passing days,
Until the hour that I'm again with you.
I'm alone and killing;
Sorrow haunts my eyes;
Let me die when willing;
So I'll forget to cry."
Love is one of those confusing things;
It's not just about kisses and hugs and that take,
About hearts as one, kids playing on the swings,
How much my heart misses you when I alone awake.
I'm fragile, don't break me with your word,
'Love' is by far the worst thing I've ever heard;
So many people 'live by love,' but who's heart
Truly knows what love is like when it's torn apart?
When a man forgets what love is, well
That's when he forgets that hell is hell.
If he has forsaken the world, then
He's transcending the forgiveness of men.
********
The Irish Rhyme of Dedication
Let the waters be of some deeper blue,
Or let the waters be of a frothy white,
Know that I will always moor for you;
Even when your face is sorest sight.
But only 'neath the surface can you see:
Nothing deep is troubled strongly;
The surface ripples, but when we bleed,
We bleed so superficially.
Rowing away to the falling elm;
Showing, not telling of the realm;
Knowing of something stronger at the helm.
********
What Makes?
I write words as an escape from sight
Would I dare look upon this visage and fail?
Upon that choice may I set things right?
Poetry, like the darkened sky, is my holy grail.
A rainy evanescence of debilitation
Termination of the stanza arrives on time.
Flooding space betwixt the meditation
Searching without looking to find reason for the rhyme.
Poetry like icecicles penetrate a shallow mind
Fall through to the other side - to a twitching eye
And unwavering depth to fight the grind
I find myself to be a poet -- but am I?
Can one truly be the artisan when one cracks
The ice that seals a river unidentified?
Or could a poem be made from one word that smacks
Of what emotion gift the muse has tried?
********
On Simplification
The color of a heavy onyx sky
Of broken things
Of a bird who sings
Whilst he draws breath on the fly.
The texture of a welcome mat, oft
Where feet have rubbed
Where dirt has scrubbed
An empty place that is velveteen-soft
.
Scented as a lilac's grinning folds
Yet erstwhile
In latest style
None shall see the secrets that the beauty holds.
In short, her hair was perfection - esoteric
Sensual curls
Envy of girls
Describing it insurrection by this heretic.
"Such hair was so beautiful, it was indescribable."
A paragraph of description is senseless at best
When the thing being described is beyond words;
Aesthetics.
Stumble!