"A foray into free verse, so that my response may be unbridled."
A new challenge arose today
An old beast returned to the castle in siege
A castle unlike others, whose moat is none too amorous
And against such an impregnable citadel this beast could triumph
It's only a beast due to its desire
But what of my desire?
Perhaps I wish the entity would enter my home,
My castle, of which I am lord, and none other
The beast doesn't wish to enter,
Buts lies dormant instead at the feet of the gate
So close, but so far from my castle's inner sanctum
But in its obstinance, I deem it,
Ugly
I will not recognize its true form
But then what if my perception of the true form
Is merely a figment of my imagination?
A mishap of my engine of creativity?
Dark happenings arise, yet still open do I keep the door
Due to my countenance, the beast enters never more
For truly, it had, as Stoker's monster had done, been subject to that
Same ruling, for it never entered once, truly
I merely turn and never seek the beast again
Monday, February 2, 2009
Paradox
"A sonnet about death but viewed through the lens of change; that which is desired must eventually fade, yet love wishes this was not so. In the spirit of Spenser, I too break from tradition."
A death that comes along the bitter road
It signifies the toll that must be paid
Or as the poet tells us in his ode,
Does love defeat the evils in their raid?
This end we see can only serve to aid
But loss of love will serve to end our joy
Confusion lasts, and tastes of bitter ade
Death blends among us only to destroy
A life we know ends as as a fatal ploy
But must we at these ends always succumb?
Should the end be met with hate’s alloy?
Or illness too; is nothing to be done?
Think not you know of what I write above
I seek only to resurrect my love
A death that comes along the bitter road
It signifies the toll that must be paid
Or as the poet tells us in his ode,
Does love defeat the evils in their raid?
This end we see can only serve to aid
But loss of love will serve to end our joy
Confusion lasts, and tastes of bitter ade
Death blends among us only to destroy
A life we know ends as as a fatal ploy
But must we at these ends always succumb?
Should the end be met with hate’s alloy?
Or illness too; is nothing to be done?
Think not you know of what I write above
I seek only to resurrect my love
Friday, January 30, 2009
The Writer's Prayer
I saw this on the Facebook Poets' and Writers' Registry. It was posted by Michael Levy from Fort Lauderdale, and it comes from his book, Worry Causes Wrinkles. I hope writers everywhere can learn something from this.
The Writers Prayer
Awaken To a new dawn,
I stretch to Infinity 'n reach Beyond the Stars,
In an instant I return,
Filling every tissue, sinew, with Joy,
I feed the nectar of life, into each molecule and cell,
The mind and body embrace Diving love
Through the eye of time, I see eternity,
Life in life shine bright,
Shine the torch of majestic light,
Find the path to my universal frame,
So I may bask in the wisdom of pure potential,
Guide my hand to write your words.
Thursday, January 29, 2009
Paramour
I met you once, in a spring’s day
What you were then, I cannot say
Things have happened, that much is true
If they should last, what shall we do?
Our roads were paths that could not cross
Demonic dreams if such that lost
Their luster in my eyes once more
Yet you return, o paramour
So dear, within, this melancholy
It branches out in me as holly
Would in that field of blood afar
And clothed is he who is your star
But a martyr’s mantle I decree
Is no longer a fit for me
I wash my hands clean of this field
My blood is spilled and now I yield
I had submitted to you, dear
And soul screaming thus I can hear
How your power over me grew
Stronger yet, with every pull
The chain is broken, links lie by
The death of love perhaps is nigh
But a joyous chorus, ever near
Sings still to me of my dear
And so perhaps did I think you
Were the one that was untrue?
A queen of angels did you seem
O amaranth, my heart's esteem
Though bestowed in me since the womb
“Amor est mihi periculum”
Still even would I dare to say
All pain involved could buy a day
What you were then, I cannot say
Things have happened, that much is true
If they should last, what shall we do?
Our roads were paths that could not cross
Demonic dreams if such that lost
Their luster in my eyes once more
Yet you return, o paramour
So dear, within, this melancholy
It branches out in me as holly
Would in that field of blood afar
And clothed is he who is your star
But a martyr’s mantle I decree
Is no longer a fit for me
I wash my hands clean of this field
My blood is spilled and now I yield
I had submitted to you, dear
And soul screaming thus I can hear
How your power over me grew
Stronger yet, with every pull
The chain is broken, links lie by
The death of love perhaps is nigh
But a joyous chorus, ever near
Sings still to me of my dear
And so perhaps did I think you
Were the one that was untrue?
A queen of angels did you seem
O amaranth, my heart's esteem
Though bestowed in me since the womb
“Amor est mihi periculum”
Still even would I dare to say
All pain involved could buy a day
Dark Lover
So as a flower petal attracts bees
Inviting dark lovers within her own
To folds of pollen, procure honey's keys
For myriad combs waiting for their hone
You thus inspire me and I am prone
To enter you, dark lover, I adore
Your pollen I desire for my own
My combs to fill with you I do implore
But your petal doth be filled even before
Ere thither I do fly to yonder way
And to him that you so rightly do adore
My blade tempered falls short another day
So long as amor inside me should last
Solemn days lover I do yield to pass
Inviting dark lovers within her own
To folds of pollen, procure honey's keys
For myriad combs waiting for their hone
You thus inspire me and I am prone
To enter you, dark lover, I adore
Your pollen I desire for my own
My combs to fill with you I do implore
But your petal doth be filled even before
Ere thither I do fly to yonder way
And to him that you so rightly do adore
My blade tempered falls short another day
So long as amor inside me should last
Solemn days lover I do yield to pass
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