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Death Diary - Endymion

 
 
edgarblythe
 
  1  
Reply Mon 2 Mar, 2009 07:51 pm
@Miklos7,
Miklos7 wrote:

Endy,
Looking back through these pages, you should be very proud of your growing vision and skill. Big accomplishments. You'll surely continue to progress is both areas.
Every committed writer looks back and wonders what it's all about, but he or she never comes up with the answer. If you actually knew why you wrote and the significance of what you wrote about--or, more likely, pretended to--you would sound like a preacher. Preachers--some very gracefully--speak from certainty. Poets--with varying skill--speak from mystery.
If we write a lot, we change a lot. And, of course, our vision changes slightly every minute, simply by virtue of our being alive. The vision and writing that poetry requires changes us all the more rapidly. And, every now and then--same as the modern theory of evolution goes--artists make a big leap forward. When this occurs, it may amaze us to look back even a few months and realize how different now is from then.


Endy's a fine writer, and I expect him to be a respected authour before it's over with.
Endymion
 
  1  
Reply Tue 3 Mar, 2009 03:06 am
Miklos and Edgar

Well, i have to say, i'm a bit stunned!
Honoured, too.

Your individual insights and inputs here have helped me so very much.
(You'll never know)
Thank you.
I will go and do some writing now - inspired to continue...

Yes, mystery - like life, eh?

cheers, Endy
0 Replies
 
Endymion
 
  1  
Reply Tue 3 Mar, 2009 08:20 pm
lostnsearching wrote:
Hey Endy,

Hope it's a 'peaceful' one for everyone!


I'm thinking of you today

So sorry for all your country is being put through

take care and stay safe, if you can

with kind regards
endy
0 Replies
 
msolga
 
  1  
Reply Tue 3 Mar, 2009 09:01 pm
@edgarblythe,
Quote:
Endy's a fine writer, and I expect him to be a respected authour before it's over with.


I think that, too, edgar.



(In fact, my belief is so strong, I've offered to be Endy's agent/publicist!!! He's gonna make us rich, one day soon! Wink Very Happy )
0 Replies
 
Endymion
 
  2  
Reply Thu 5 Mar, 2009 11:02 am

you are very kind to offer, Olga

who knows what will happen.

i'm not wanting t o make you look like you don't have a good business head...Smile
so i apologise for what ever comes next

(but sometimes i just go back to writing that other stuff -)
0 Replies
 
Endymion
 
  1  
Reply Thu 5 Mar, 2009 11:05 am
(like -getting lyrics)

hold still



i pick you up
cold steel
hold still
************
hold still
everything that you want
to steal
************
instilled
in the core of m'brain
I sick you up
cold steel
hold still
************
hold still
everything that you see
and kill
************
is drilled
in the mill of its pain
i pick you up
cold steel
hold still
************
hold still
everything that you want
to steal
************
still chills
in the core of the brain
i pick you up
cold steel
hold still




Endymion 2009
0 Replies
 
Endymion
 
  1  
Reply Thu 5 Mar, 2009 11:15 am
this short poem is an analogy. It's not about one person. It's about losing a whole lot more than that.





Gone



Cold i turned and looked back
Saw him watching through a cloud
He didn't seem to notice
As the sky came tumbling down
He didn't seem too worried
As the end of all he knew
Slammed so fast approaching
Bursting in out of the blue
When i looked back i could see him
And then he wasn't there
I looked around the burning ground
For signs beyond the flare
I wandered like a blind man
Stumbling crazily along
When a hand reached out
And I heard you shout:
"He's gone... !"
"He's gone."




Endymion 2009
0 Replies
 
Endymion
 
  1  
Reply Thu 19 Mar, 2009 07:11 pm

Left Behind



On and on
War rages on
Like the old songs into the night
Everywhere, across the world
Hell-fire burning bright
Twists air to smoke
These funeral pyres on which we choke
Evoke our deep remorse
Of every battle's mad desire
And every man's last thought
Watching weary
Soldiers rise to the call
As ancient ghosts
Who marched this way before
Ash falls
Into our lonely eyes
Under the thick spit of lies
That lie of the cost
All self-love lost as time awoke
And brought forth shame
Smashing skulls on rocks of savage resentment
As brutal apes
Death feasts not on the meat
Of the new departed
But on the smitten
Bloodied, broken hearted
Never to awake from inner blame
Nor see again
The beauty of a perfect day







Endymion 2009
0 Replies
 
Endymion
 
  1  
Reply Fri 8 May, 2009 07:26 am


For Your Justice





So help me, now they are to be praised?
Smiled upon like suns for the screams they created
Given duel reward for obscenities cruel
Protected from the truth
Pinned by a gold star
As truce

Remember when stars were sewn?
When human flesh piled naked
Heeled to bone
Wrapped in fear that clung with tortured hands to the wire
Is their suffering less
Because a man rewards
Evil?

Has the path to justice, turned
Cold as the tomb?
Does love lie crushed to dust beneath the boot?
Turning child-eyes old
Wrong to right
Do fearful souls burn out their mouths to ash in lawless night?

I am confused
Is black now white?
Is the mind-sick man whose vicious ******* hands carved scars to vent
And terrorised a child's life
Innocent?
How can that be?

Are the tormented ones the cause?
The guilty?
Must the victim bare the blame?
Are the marks upon the body
Now the stigma
Of his shame?

What of the law, defined?
Do you see what has been stolen
To validate these crimes?
Do you know how much you've make me want to end my life?
I have waited so long
For your justice






Endymion 2009


Endymion
 
  1  
Reply Fri 8 May, 2009 12:52 pm
@Endymion,
well - what a ****- up Smile

(no time to go back and correct it either...hate that) oh well.

Here it is (in all its sober second try. after 3 weeks ******* around with it...i'm not going to leave it like that - lesson - don't post important **** while pissed)



For Your Justice





So help me, now they are to be praised?
Smiled upon like suns for the screams they created
Given duel reward for obscenities cruel
Protected from the truth
Pinned by a gold star
As truce

Remember when stars were sewn?
When human flesh piled naked
Heeled to bone
Wrapped in fear that clung with tortured hands to the wire
Is their suffering less
Because a man rewards
Evil?

Has the path to justice, turned
Cold as the tomb?
Does love lie crushed to dust beneath the boot?
Turning child-eyes old
Wrong to right
Do fearful souls burn out their mouths to ash in lawless night?

I am confused
Is black now white?
Is the mind-sick man whose vicious ******* hands carved scars to vent
And terrorised a child's life
Innocent?
How can that be?

Are the tormented ones the cause?
The guilty?
Must the victim bare the blame?
Are the marks upon the body
Now the stigma
Of his shame?

What of the law, defined?
Do you see what has been stolen
To validate these crimes?
Do you know how much you make me want to end my life?
I have waited so long
For your justice






Endymion 2009
0 Replies
 
Endymion
 
  1  
Reply Fri 8 May, 2009 01:34 pm

The Block



Silence writes its own breath
A gasp of nothing
Immense blankness
Zero to say
I would like to fight this
Slow death
Confess my emptiness
But I can't get into this
I'm not the same
**** the right
To survive
Let the pause adopt the pain
I know violence
It likes me
I can feel its hate



Endymion 2009
0 Replies
 
Endymion
 
  1  
Reply Wed 16 Sep, 2009 07:29 pm

Realisation




Listen to the score
It blows your mind
Listen to the circumstantial crime
And take your time
To process
The trauma in the stress
The test of time
Turning wheels spin within
Words float or sink on the shallow brink
Like a sign
I am alive
I opened wide to find the slides inside
My oleographic head
And found instead the hollow hive was dead
Enough said
I hit the floor
Like drift wood in the smile of time
I saw the wool pulled from my eyes
And more
So surprised was I to see the truth
Black eye missing tooth





Endymion 2009







0 Replies
 
Endymion
 
  2  
Reply Thu 29 Oct, 2009 08:00 am
I can't grieve any more. When I look around the world, even around this forum, I see that grief is in all of us. That we all have to die and see loved ones die. That is a grief we all share.

As for the rest " the childhood stuff - I'll always remember those who have now and then, responded to my poems about child abuse, with spontaneous empathy and admirable dignity.
Good Luck to you, in this world. Remember how strong you are, won't you?


This is the end of the death diary.
I've re-read some of the thread and it is very long. Some of the poems contained within, are in a word, crap.
Not that I regret them, because writing all this has helped me a great deal and a few of these poems have stayed with me (even in my head) since I wrote them. Most of those have changed over the years and a couple of them mean a lot to me.

If you've been reading along for the last, what is it now? 4 years?... or if you've read every now and then, what can I say? I'm humbly honoured.


Peace,
Endy




NOTE: If you are looking at this thread for the first time, please be warned. Trying to find the good stuff in here would be like seriously expecting to find nuggets of gold by sticking your arm down a street drain in winter.
Just keep walking, pal. That's my advice.
ehBeth
 
  2  
Reply Thu 29 Oct, 2009 11:04 am
@Endymion,
Walking is good.

There's more than an occasional nugget of gold in this thread.

Walking is good. Especially in the fresh autumn air.
0 Replies
 
edgarblythe
 
  2  
Reply Thu 29 Oct, 2009 12:18 pm
It's that way with all writers, I think. We go back and wonder why we let a work stand instead of perfecting it or discarding it. No matter what, indy. No effort is wasted. You will continue to build a great body of work. I am certain of it.
0 Replies
 
msolga
 
  1  
Reply Sat 31 Oct, 2009 10:32 pm
@Endymion,
Quote:
I can't grieve any more. When I look around the world, even around this forum, I see that grief is in all of us. That we all have to die and see loved ones die. That is a grief we all share.

As for the rest " the childhood stuff - I'll always remember those who have now and then, responded to my poems about child abuse, with spontaneous empathy and admirable dignity.
Good Luck to you, in this world. Remember how strong you are, won't you?


This is the end of the death diary.
I've re-read some of the thread and it is very long. Some of the poems contained within, are in a word, crap.
Not that I regret them, because writing all this has helped me a great deal and a few of these poems have stayed with me (even in my head) since I wrote them. Most of those have changed over the years and a couple of them mean a lot to me.

If you've been reading along for the last, what is it now? 4 years?... or if you've read every now and then, what can I say? I'm humbly honoured.


Peace,
Endy


It's been an honour & a privilege to read your writings, Endy.
Now I'm sending your own words back to you: "Good Luck to you, in this world. Remember how strong you are, won't you?"
And don't you ever forget this. Because it's true.
0 Replies
 
 

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