A sonnet
The Fool's Play
O shadowed mist, aye ‘pon the shattered heart pained.
Gathers most unwanted the dust of yesterday.
Love tho' biddened, masked to hid thee away.
Yea! Somber note, played ‘pon the salted rain.
Hope therein lies, the lie that hope for naught.
What then the eye sees, the unbloomed flower?
Unyield thy beauty, tho’ nigh the hour?
O for a man, tho' am I, and thus am fraught.
Lingering death, doth bringeth me past thine!
Had I thought then of hope aye, none will last.
Of certainty like all things, dimmed the past.
Clouded thought, the heart grown cold ‘twas mine.
How then doth Heaven seek that I cannot find?
When God’s hand plays the part to a minstrel blind.
Originally posted by Fëanor
A sonnet[b]The Fool's Play
O shadowed mist, aye ‘pon the shattered heart pained.
Gathers most unwanted the dust of yesterday.
Love tho' biddened, masked to hid thee away.
Yea! Somber note, played ‘pon the salted rain.Hope therein lies, the lie that hope for naught.
What then the eye sees, the unbloomed flower?
Unyield thy beauty, tho’ nigh the hour?
O for a man, tho' am I, and thus am fraught.Lingering death, doth bringeth me past thine!
Had I thought then of hope aye, none will last.
Of certainty like all things, dimmed the past.
Clouded thought, the heart grown cold ‘twas mine.
How then doth Heaven seek that I cannot find?
When God’s hand plays the part to a minstrel blind. [/B]
omg I loverz it 😍
Blighted Bliss
If I had but an hour to give this precious thought,
A moment to live, thus grow upon my heart.
Alas denied I am, the maze does hearken.
Chaotic rambling booms, the mind darkens.
Wherefore then is the lover’s swoon?
A man marked to haste, ungranted boon.
Thus breed there a longing and shed a tear.
To wrongfully care, aye I afeard.
The thought, once gained nigh to a soul.
Abated breath held, a yearling foal.
Gone o’er shadowed blight.
And reeked this place, the lover’s plight.
Ends then that unwarranted hour.
For I have seen with eyes closed high to the tower,
That reaches the godless sky.
So sit I, aye to this a love doth die.
Originally posted by Fëanor
[b]Blighted Bliss
If I had but an hour to give this precious thought,
A moment to live, thus grow upon my heart.
Alas denied I am, the maze does hearken.
Chaotic rambling booms, the mind darkens.Wherefore then is the lover’s swoon?
A man marked to haste, ungranted boon.
Thus breed there a longing and shed a tear.
To wrongfully care, aye I afeard.The thought, once gained nigh to a soul.
Abated breath held, a yearling foal.
Gone o’er shadowed blight.
And reeked this place, the lover’s plight.Ends then that unwarranted hour.
[/B]
For I have seen with eyes closed high to the tower,
That reaches the godless sky.
So sit I, aye to this a love doth die.
Yo, Feanor. What's the groove, duuude? I always liked some of your poetry. It conforms to a classical structure, which I find much more pleasing than rambling prose passed of as 'poetry'. I enjoyed 'Blighted Bliss'; it made me think that you have read a fair bit of Keats. Would this be a correct assumption? If not, which poets do you like to read?
Originally posted by Ya Krunk'd Floomy witty witty friend...i am caught. yes, yes and i say again yes. but not only keats to which inspires the stirring of the heart, but joyce, wilde, eliot, and believe it or not Tolkien. Keats by far has a higher place in my heart, but truthfully...THAT which inspires my mind, thoughts and soul? Proust comes to mind. a hard read, and must be savoured slowly over time to glean the underlying thoughts of his work....but i tried for a while to be more contemporary in my work and failed miserably. which explains my long absent to paint with words....thus began my long journey back to that which opened my heart and mind like a flayed frog on a students desk to be examined like so much fodder, but enough of my babbling....so i say again: yes, yes and once more yes.
Yo, Feanor. What's the groove, duuude? I always liked some of your poetry. It conforms to a classical structure, which I find much more pleasing than rambling prose passed of as 'poetry'. I enjoyed 'Blighted Bliss'; it made me think that you have read a fair bit of Keats. Would this be a correct assumption? If not, which poets do you like to read?
oh and amber, the words READS easy...to put on paper is not. the first line in Blighted Bliss is indicative of how long it took me finish that draft...would've been sooner if I hadn't watched 'Real Sex' on HBO!!!
Originally posted by Fëanor
[b]Blighted Bliss
If I had but an hour to give this precious thought,
A moment to live, thus grow upon my heart.
Alas denied I am, the maze does hearken.
Chaotic rambling booms, the mind darkens.Wherefore then is the lover’s swoon?
A man marked to haste, ungranted boon.
Thus breed there a longing and shed a tear.
To wrongfully care, aye I afeard.The thought, once gained nigh to a soul.
Abated breath held, a yearling foal.
Gone o’er shadowed blight.
And reeked this place, the lover’s plight.Ends then that unwarranted hour.
[/B]
For I have seen with eyes closed high to the tower,
That reaches the godless sky.
So sit I, aye to this a love doth die.
tht is totally amazing...
Originally posted by Fëanor
A sonnet[b]The Fool's Play
O shadowed mist, aye ‘pon the shattered heart pained.
Gathers most unwanted the dust of yesterday.
Love tho' biddened, masked to hid thee away.
Yea! Somber note, played ‘pon the salted rain.Hope therein lies, the lie that hope for naught.
What then the eye sees, the unbloomed flower?
Unyield thy beauty, tho’ nigh the hour?
O for a man, tho' am I, and thus am fraught.Lingering death, doth bringeth me past thine!
Had I thought then of hope aye, none will last.
Of certainty like all things, dimmed the past.
Clouded thought, the heart grown cold ‘twas mine.
How then doth Heaven seek that I cannot find?
When God’s hand plays the part to a minstrel blind. [/B]
Originally posted by Fëanor
[b]Blighted Bliss
If I had but an hour to give this precious thought,
A moment to live, thus grow upon my heart.
Alas denied I am, the maze does hearken.
Chaotic rambling booms, the mind darkens.Wherefore then is the lover’s swoon?
A man marked to haste, ungranted boon.
Thus breed there a longing and shed a tear.
To wrongfully care, aye I afeard.The thought, once gained nigh to a soul.
Abated breath held, a yearling foal.
Gone o’er shadowed blight.
And reeked this place, the lover’s plight.Ends then that unwarranted hour.
[/B]
For I have seen with eyes closed high to the tower,
That reaches the godless sky.
So sit I, aye to this a love doth die.
Great poetry Julian 😍
Originally posted by Fëanor
[b]Blighted Bliss
If I had but an hour to give this precious thought,
A moment to live, thus grow upon my heart.
Alas denied I am, the maze does hearken.
Chaotic rambling booms, the mind darkens.Wherefore then is the lover’s swoon?
A man marked to haste, ungranted boon.
Thus breed there a longing and shed a tear.
To wrongfully care, aye I afeard.The thought, once gained nigh to a soul.
Abated breath held, a yearling foal.
Gone o’er shadowed blight.
And reeked this place, the lover’s plight.Ends then that unwarranted hour.
[/B]
For I have seen with eyes closed high to the tower,
That reaches the godless sky.
So sit I, aye to this a love doth die.
notworthy
Originally posted by Fëanor
my witty witty friend...i am caught. yes, yes and i say again yes. but not only keats to which inspires the stirring of the heart, but joyce, wilde, eliot, and believe it or not Tolkien. Keats by far has a higher place in my heart, but truthfully...THAT which inspires my mind, thoughts and soul? Proust comes to mind. a hard read, and must be savoured slowly over time to glean the underlying thoughts of his work....but i tried for a while to be more contemporary in my work and failed miserably. which explains my long absent to paint with words....thus began my long journey back to that which opened my heart and mind like a flayed frog on a students desk to be examined like so much fodder, but enough of my babbling....so i say again: yes, yes and once more yes.oh and amber, the words READS easy...to put on paper is not. the first line in Blighted Bliss is indicative of how long it took me finish that draft...would've been sooner if I hadn't watched 'Real Sex' on HBO!!!
😂 Very nice dear 🙄
Originally posted by CrazyInLove
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Hektor's Fall
She graced my days with words of Love,
And gentle happiness.
I cried to Heaven and Gods above,
For nothing more than this.
For days and days, and many more,
The time that I had spent.
On honeyed words and loving chore,
Until I lost my sense.
My life had soured, my thoughts grew dim;
The air grew very thick;
Her touch was cold, as she thought of him -
That muthah fkin' prick!
Alas my ire could not contain,
The cancerous growth in me.
So who's to say or who to blame,
My god-forsaken agony.
I cannot say; I hate her so.
For that would not be true,
I never said; I'd let her go.
As I, the Fool, am in love with you.
A Fool's Ilium
Cry! O' Heaven, for a love that is lost.
The Muse doth leave as in Winter's frost.
To chill the core of this witless man,
A hopeless spirit to roam the land.
Grieve! O' Gods and shed no tear.
The lonely voice, a burden to bear.
To choke on words, denied release -
As empty sobs will beg to please.
Die! O' Man and live no more,
Withering hope in days of yore
Come and go and ne'er start,
For the knife digs deep, deep in thy heart.