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Mon 3 Feb, 2003 07:08 am
Share and enjoy ....
Midway through
the dawning
of my awakening
to this life,
my journey
grew dark and cold ...
heated by a black and
lifeless flame.
Of a sudden, life,
my life, was growing away from me,
destination, yet untold.
things I thought would never be
were beginning to unfold
pictures
songs
rhyming bits and pieces
colorless flashes
of brilliant hue
silver seeds of memories
each born
from what I knew
halfway through this midday morning
I awoke
with thoughts of black flame leaping
then laid to rest
by winters due
just before the light
fades to darkest night
a fluttering breeze from no direction
yet aimed with such perfection
fed by what was known
renews it's endless searching
a soul will die
alone
Doug
Very nice. Welcome to A2K! :-D
GE - great to have you here! I hope to see a lot more of your writing!
Are you the Ge from Abuzz? If so, good to see you made it. If not, welcome.
Dawn scoured the sky of darkness
leaving a clean blue dome
to reflect my sins
that the night had hidden.
The shining skin shone in purity,
and the pitiless stare of the planets
in their serene circles unchanging
bore into my heart
knew my secrets,
as the music of the spheres
tolled my less-thans
sang of my should-be's.
Thanks for the warm welcome .........
It will take awhile to know my way around and this feels like a happy group.
Stay tuned, more to come ...
Doug (AKA Ge)
Hi Kara ... I see you are writing .... good, very good
Doug, I really like your poem at the beginning of the thread.
Remember a year or so back, on Abuzz, when we were talking about cars and driving on one of your poetry threads, and I wrote a takeoff on The Highwayman? I found it last week, may post it here just for fun. Unless you object...?
Thanks B.. just trying to decide which morning would be a 'mid' morning
Are you kidding? I would love to read your stuff ..... s'why I started this .... maybe I need a shingle.
Pomes wanted
knead naught rime
The reason I asked is that your name is in the poem. You had told us on the thread that you were not driving, and I said I'd come and get you in my sports car and we'd go for a spin.
Okay, you asked for it.
The Road Warrier (with apologies to Alfred Noyes)
The wind was a torrent of darkness amidst the gusty trees
The moon was a ghostly galleon tossed upon cloudy seas
The road was a ribbon of moonlight, over the purple moor
When karateka came riding, riding,
Karateka came riding
In her very own four-on-the-floor.
He'd a fishing hat on his forehead, an old bandana at his chin
A coat of oilcloth fabric, and his breeches of old de-nim,
They fitted with never a wrinkle, his boots were Wellies for sure
And he rode with a laughing twinkle,
His fishing rod, aglow in the moonlight,
His tackle box lock all a sparkle
Before he e'er left the shore.
He whistled a tune to the star-shine, he called Cap'n Eddie to
come
He called in the night for his soul mate, and heard nothing back
from the wind.
He rose upright in his rowboat, disturbed that he was alone
Gelisgesti was hiding, hiding
And trembling with fear to the core,
He was hiding, hiding,
From Kara and her four-on-the floor.
Out she roared on the road from the darkness, limned small in
the moonlit night
Her prey was casting his line out, he'd a wind knot which took
up his time
His time,
As Kara was riding
Riding, riding
Closing in with her four-on-the-floor, the floor
Closing in and moving full bore.
But they did not meet in the dawning; they did not meet at noon;
Nor out of the tawny sunset, before the rise of the moon.
The sports car rose in the wind pull and soared off lo, in the
sky
She saw her prey below her, with his rod cast up, his bait flung
out
But she died in the darkness there,
out there,
She died in her four-on-the-floor.
And still of a winter's night, they say, when the wind is in the
trees,
When the moon is a ghostly galleon tossed upon the cloudy seas,
When the road is a ribbon of moonlight over the purple moor,
Gelisgesti comes riding, riding
Gelisgesti comes riding
Up to the dealership door
Over the forecourt he clatters, his boots squishing loud in the
yard
He taps with his whip on the shutter, but all is locked and
barred;
He whistles a tune to the Kara, who is getting a lube for her
car.
She hears a faint whistle and ear-cocks, waiting for news from
her bard
But the moment is lost in the finding, finding
And two ships slide past, well afar,
Afar,
The two ships slide past well afar.
***
And you said you couldn't write poetry ....
I looked all over but couldn't find the thread ...
Do you remember when you wrote this one?
Shadowless illusion
our daily life
afraid that around the next corner
lurks a semblance of our nature
one close enough to believe
not knowing who or why we are
or even that we are, or
how to recognize if we are
the same shape today
has a different perfume tomorrow
enough of a change
as to justify a new begining
a new chase
desperately trying
to pin down
an essence
of self
that might be true
I thought I recognized some truthful thing
but even as I wet my lips to speak
it vanished into the mist of the mind
halfway to
the place we sleep
leaving not a tear to weep
for if we waken
from that tepid day mare
we shall see what others see
with faces drawn
with clown lip smile
following falling expectations
thoughts of me
are visions born and pouring out
from a spring lying deep
within you
Doug
Hay, fresh from the keyboard .....
Saw the doc yesterday, going to the clinic to be evaluated for the wires .... yipe
Frozen shaky fingers
thoughts to pass along
bright burning rhyme
running out of time
hard to clear the mind
too soon I fear I'll find
that I am the only llistner
to these words
that never rhyme
As we each walk through life
our path is recorded in the morning dew
a path that soon will vanish
as yesterdays always do
because a path made from yesterdays
is never shiny new
step lightly
from the path to find the essence of
the trail that follows you
Doug
Doug, are you talking about DBS? What made you change your mind? I always hoped you would.
AKA journey to t he center of my mind.
I want my life back .... damn it.
At least as much as I can salvage.
Besides, I'm too cute to be a veggie
Why did I open my heart
To the demon knife?
I will flee into
the stones and the
forests and join
the wind.
It is only the heart
clutched in your hands
that you can kill.
I will be gone
laughing down the winds of time
leaving your hands gripping
less than air
where my soul was.
***
Well pence aka think aka Ge aka Doug big welcome to A2k.
Kara, nice ...
The heart inclines
the soul speaks
the mind listens
the heart answers
Jo ....thanks
you missed greysoul and about four others ... I'll never tell;o)
Hi Doug
Bienvenido!
Hi Kara
where have you been? Good to see you.
P.S. Nice writing guys.
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