Originally posted by Syren
Prince, I can't comment on the poetry and the meanings themselves simply because the religion makes me cringe 😬 But you've structured them well and I like the rhythm; you could try to sort out a distinctive pattern in your poetry, if only to reinforce any messages you may be trying to convey?
This poem has been written a while ago, but I normally dedicate my works to others. I would be honored if you would accept this poem:
Originally posted by King of Blades
This poem has been written a while ago, but I normally dedicate my works to others. I would be honored if you would accept this poem:
Long and winded epic poetry is quite difficult to do, but you should at least try to keep the cadence flowing and fluid...the theme and thematic is somewhat haphazard and goes in too many directions and at times does not compliment each other. The use of of "he" twice on one line shows a lack of creativity and "point" and disappoint" leaves the reader not much to desire and shows that you may have given that one a lot of thought in order for it to rhyme. Other than that...it was a good effort, but then again who am I to say?
Originally posted by Fëanor
Long and winded epic poetry is quite difficult to do, but you should at least try to keep the cadence flowing and fluid
Syllable count?
...the theme and thematic is somewhat haphazard and goes in too many directions and at times does not compliment each other.
The poem should have a simple overview of the moon. It rises and it falls. The poem turns though, much like a magnification, to describe particular parts of its journey and the places it sees. No one particular image is any more detailed than the other. Some ambiguity (granted probably the cause of the haphazardness) is intentional. You should be able to "see" what I'm trying to describe, but not explicitly. I leave some of the images up for you to imagine. If that causes incontinuity and makes it difficult to follow, duly noted. For the next poem maybe I wont incorporate as much or perhaps more detailed descriptions (maybe both!).
The use of of "he" twice on one line shows a lack of creativity and "point" and disappoint" leaves the reader not much to desire and shows that you may(not)? have given that one a lot of thought in order for it to rhyme.
I can't really say the "he" is a lack of creativity. I didn't want to personify the moon any more than a celestial journeyer. Granted engendering him was my romantic side bleeding through, so if anything the "he" is more personal than a lack of creativity (intended vs. forced). But I do see what you're saying, and the point/disappoint rhyme reference is certainly something that can be approved.
A person more than welcome to critique my poems. I will look at some revisions based on what you have said. Truly, I am very grateful for your input. I am not surrounded (IRL) by many people who appreciate poetry let alone know how to criticize constructively. Though many would think it stinging, I long more for points of improvement than the praise given at the end of a reading. Then again, who am I to say. 😉
Other than that...it was a good effort, but then again who am I to say?
Popping this here for your perusal, with hopes you remember me and my pathetic poetry.
Originally posted by King of Blades
Every which way, this thread appears.
New members nostalgic for old members.
Memories heard, not seen.
Stories told, not lived.
Echoes of longing for
Lead made gold
Water turned wine
Men made gods.
I don't seem to be remembered,
Funny the way it is.I really wish they had a KMC friendly muttley-laughing.gif
Years tick by; and Legends
Both young and old, have
Passed through our commune.
Heralded by the memories;
Stories and rumours.
One quote or another.
In time they have gone.
Forgotten. Locked away in
Archives of the past.
And Yet;
There is hope.
New Legends are born;
Joining the ranks of those few
Privileged. Because
In our own rights;
We all, are
Legends.
-Kevin Traynor (Jedireaper)
I swear I was writing a different poem by the end of that. It reads like two halves of seperate poems, joined together inelegantly.
Originally posted by Jedireaper
Popping this here for your perusal, with hopes you remember me and my pathetic poetry.[b]KMC Legends
Years tick by; and Legends
Both young and old, have
Passed through our commune.
Heralded by the memories;
Stories and rumours.
One quote or another.
In time they have gone.
Forgotten. Locked away in
Archives of the past.
And Yet;
There is hope.
New Legends are born;
Joining the ranks of those few
Privileged. Because
In our own rights;
We all, are
Legends.-Kevin Traynor (Jedireaper)
I swear I was writing a different poem by the end of that. It reads like two halves of seperate poems, joined together inelegantly. [/B]
I missed you man. Awesome job.
Grandfather Redux
I caught a glimpse of that day, Grandpa,
When you held my brother on your lap.
A birthday party, or some idle evening,
You were always our company until we went to bed.
Sometimes we got away breaking curfew.
Back then we called it bed time, but you know already.
You were our marvelous excuse,
To break rules,
Live lightly,
But above all,
Be happy.
Now all the patriarchs are gone.
Your wisdom
Yours
His.
You seem to be dropping like flies…
Too crude.
You’ve withered away
Like old forgotten mother’s day flowers…
Too morbid.
You are, literally, ash once again…
Too true.
I can’t quite seem to paint your death beautifully.
I guess there is no beauty in death.
Dichotomy kicks into sixth gear,
And I try to remember life with you,
All those beautiful memories.
But I don’t remember any of them anymore.
Do you remember the time,
You yelled at me for bringing in the groceries?
One
Bag
At
A
Time?
Now I carry them like a beast of burden;
All at once is the goal.
I picture you apologizing for the lesson.
Don’t.
It’s a memory I cherish,
Because now I do all that I can.
Do you remember the time,
You criticized me?
“You walk like a herd of elephants.”
My knees don’t hurt.
My back is getting better.
I first acted out of spite.
But love keeps this lesson alive.
There were mornings I woke up,
And I found you bathed in the morning sunlight.
I hugged you every morning,
Or at least I think I did.
I loved you and didn’t realize it.
I bandaged your bloody shins when you fell.
You thanked me,
And my heart sank.
You should never have thanked me.
What else should I have done?
I worshipped your tinted yellow corpse
In zeal-ed bereavement.
I could have stayed with you till you died.
I chose to leave,
They promised me you’d get better.
I came to an inquisition
A denouncement
A crucifixion.
They asked me:
“why didn’t you stay?”
They accused me:
“You abandoned your grandfather”
They didn’t understand:
“Hindsight is 20/20
I didn’t know”
I hung myself.
You were my third late arrival.
Death and I are on different schedules.
I missed my mentor.
I rushed to my friend,
But didn’t make it.
I drove to you,
But time wasn’t on my side.
I never get those last moments,
And the memories never stay.
I tell myself these storms will come and go.
But not you Grandpa,
Because you’ve already come and gone.
“Nothing between us has changed”
I come to the darkness alone.
The moon still lingers
Above ivory woods of bones
And decrepit wooded fingers.
“Where to, boss?”
“Anywhere but this place.”
I am the tempest tossed,
You are my freedom’s face.
The night is bright
With nothing but the moon and stars.
For moments of such fright
It was relieving to know you were not far.
Argument after misunderstanding.
They say our signs are not compatible.
I never thought we were once demanding,
Though many a times weren’t unflappable.
I sometimes catch your smiles
When they’re meant for me.
Your laughter sometimes beguiles
My soul. All at once, I feel myself free.
I told you one honest verity,
And we cried at my salvation.
I came to share my new found clarity.
You left me; damnation.
There is a flower that grows by a tree.
It is so beautiful beneath the shade.
It is best left alone, you see,
It’s image is just a charade.
I am the tree.
You are the shade.
We are the flower.
Just a charade.
A Trip to the Beach
I wrote love on the face of the changing infinity,
The clapping twins folding over it.
As the words faded away into the endlessness,
So too faded all my ties with it.
It was gone, and before me stood a clean face,
Smiling for yet another word to imprint itself.
So I pressed my feet firmly into the sand.
I felt the face of the changing infinity
Holding and supporting and forming my new identity.
With each clapping twin, the face and I changed.
As I sank into the face of the changing infinity
I lost all my ties to the endlessness,
Until at long last I no longer stood above
But rather below and one with the face of the changing infinity.
One with the clapping twins of change;
One with the endlessness of time and men.
I'm not usually one to post these kind of things. However, if you like Johnny Cash, so do I; here's to him.
Now that the sun was setting below,
I heard just above me the cry of a crow.
It's dark silhouette flew across the plane,
and with it it carried my sorrow and pain.
The beat of it's black wing and sound of its cry
Brought shudders to my breath and tears to my eyes.
The moment felt long drawn, but soon it was gone.
So swung the swing, so swung the swing.
A cold summer breeze careened through the field
Wrapped itself around me like a mean winter's shield.
It sapped from my being the warmth that was there,
and placed deep within me its icy cool air.
The leaves were once rustling but now they are dead
The world was once lively; had spirited steps.
Where once there was music, death has now made still.
So stopped the swing, so stopped the swing.
The sun has now set, the whole world is dark.
The night sky is flooded with small flashing sparks.
No moon has arisen, in chambers it lays.
In darkness consuméd, in darkness he stays.
For fear has withheld him, he mourns deep below
The passing of one life, the loss of a soul.
And all for no reason, no will left in he.
So now swings me, so now swings me.
Originally posted by King of Blades
Grandfather Redux
I have found the original, enjoy
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“For life and death are one, even as the river and the sea are one.”-Khalil Gibran"Now she's going to lie down peacefully in a vast room. If I were to follow after her bawling and sobbing, it would show that I don't understand anything about fate. So I stopped."- Zhuangzi
Little old man sitting on the front porch,
Where are you going?
Far away far away, away from this world.
Old man old man, why from this world?
Old man old man, stay a while more.
Going, going, an echo and fade.
I’m leaving, I’m leaving to go far away.
Old man, old man, why leave me so?
Old timer, old timer, from me do not go.
Painful I know, but endure, and grow.
From the lilies of spring to the winter’s snow.
I have carried my burdens I’ve done what I can.
As far as the sun touched, I too with my hand.
In metal fires, and booming sounds.
From humble beginnings, to humble grounds.
I turned the soil with large solid knives.
With daggers of destruction I brought forth life.
I buried the souls of countless men.
Comrades, my enemies, and even my friends.
The laughter that was, the smiles well spent,
The hardships and trials, all said, done and dreamt.
No more have I to do nor have left I to dream,
No wars to fight or others to let be.
No breaths to have nor sleep to be made.
No Love to be had or children to save.
No more sickness, no more comfort,
No fatigue of the sort.
Good bye dear boy,
Good bye dear boy.
You leave me, you leave me, oh how could you go?
How much more the pain of death shall I know?
You’ve left me, you’ve left, oh where have you gone?
To leave me so soon, to you was I drawn.
Don’t morn me, don’t morn me, you’re never alone.
I’ve simply gone elsewhere, I’ve simply gone home.
Grandfather, grandfather, why have you died?
Grandfather, grandfather, in stillness you lie,
In cold death’s embrace, in a lifeless waltz dance
Embalmed in sleep, in a passing away trance.
You leave us your body, but never you mind.
You’ve taken your spirit, and left the worthless behind.
I loved you for your spirit, your smile and your heart.
You body was broken, you lived as shattered parts.
The least that I loved stays here as I live,
Where the you that I loved, to God you thought give.
Grandfather, grandfather? No answer I see.
Gone from this earth, to roam and be free.
I wish I could follow, I will to go.
The path you have taken, I too wish to know.
Grandfather, grandfather, just one more good bye
Before to, grandfather, heaven you fly.
Grandfather? Grandfather…
Writer's Bloc
Much like a dam that stops a river's flow,
Or like the ripples that dance across the plane,
It is to hunt a buck but land a doe,
Or one to dream of warmth but wake to snow.
Nevertheless, it marks a never ending strain.
Some claim they know how to quell this beast,
And yet they are the ones who fight and pain.
I know to conquer takes time and gentle ease,
But it's a win to a never ending game.
Confession
Bless me Father for I have sinned.
I cannot count the days since my last confession.
I have in my weakness:
Lied
Cheated
Stolen
Licencious in my idleness
Drank till I was blue
Starved myself to points of breaking
I've done more drugs than I have fingers to count them
And I've slandered God's name in such vile ways
That blasphemy is a scratch against my frame
I haven't gone to church
Nor respected my elders
And have thoroughly corrupted my brothers.
I have abandoned ethics,
My morals,
For self-gratifying, self-interest propelling goals.
I am extraordinarily narcissistic
I have sought the cool comfort of darkness.
I have prayed for rain.
Sometimes I roll over and cry
Because I hate everything I stand for,
And everything you've made me to be.
I regret being born sometimes.
I don't follow the rules
And shy of actually hurting someone
(more for my qualms than yours)
I have no trouble bringing people pain.
If this pleases you, my Lord,
Then this is end.
But if, my God, you shall hear one more,
You'll find me more lamentable for this one grief
Than all the rest combined.
Father,
I am lost.
When you made me,
You did not grace my legs
With those of a cheetahs.
Nor endowed me with the strength and courage
Of a lion.
You did not form my beauty
Like you did the peacocks.
Nor did you grant me the foxes wit,
Nor the serpents cunning.
You neither skilled me with the horses industry
Nor the tigers stealth.
You did not make my skin of earth's crust,
For that I feel pain.
You did not clothe me in fur,
For that I feel cold.
You did not give me the reserve of a cactus,
For that I feel thirst.
You did not give me the humble bee's stomach,
For that I feel the bitter sting of hunger.
But of all that I am deficient in,
You have given me one difference:
My reason.
My life teeters within the shades
Of my uncertainty
--My doubt.
I am swimming within the depths of my unfathomable inquiry.
I am besieged in the responsibility of my own human nature.
Is this true faith, God?
Not belief in you, but trust in my system?
What would I choose if not by the dictates of my reason?
Why am I condemned for the dictates of my reason?
Would you rather I enter heaven
A madman?
Or Hell as what you created me?
Will I have even an option?
When I am puzzled by the demands they make of me,
I come and cower within the refuge of my intellect.
"I'm sorry I am that which is unavoidable; I'm sorry for being imperfect. I'm sorry for acting within unavoidable circumstances in performing actions unapproved by you!"
But could I say this is you?
Am I modeled in train from some other example?
In the lightless night, who's name do I whisper?
In the heat of the morn, who's name do I cry?
They spend half their days
Avoiding your face,
When I hardly can pull away.
But you are no visage of death;
Nor an icon triumphant.
But I forgo you when you are not true to me.
I stop when you disappear.
Heathen, traitor, dissident
-Possibly.
In love, wild, foolish
-Probably
Afraid, uncertain, skeptical
-Doubtless
Forgive me father of my sins,
The ones I do most in trying to love you