On the new moon
Darkened shadows hide blood and life.
On the new moon
Alleyways echo the thieves' tune,
The Elven King chooses his wife
And all is lost to vicious strife
In new moon darkness.
Hmm... what is this? Practice space for developing writing skills... The venting and ranting forum of the shadowy depths of my soul... My reaching hand to the hurting world that we might come together over the pure feelings of anguish and apathy that the world does not give outlet to other than in the form of repentance or charity (that which they encourage) or in the form of rage (that which is frowned upon). Here creativity sparks, like an old flint. Maybe yours will spark too...
Old Things
There are some things
Long forgotten in a box
Translucent with age, like fairy wings
That taste like the rust on the locks
Keeping them from the outside world.
The sound of these voices
Is hard and bitter with cacophony:
The banging and shrieking of past choices
And emotions screaming for empathy
From any distant invisible outstretched hand.
Then others are like play dough,
Naively colorful in childish romp.
They were always for show,
Now hard with glitter, feathers, and pomp.
Set them aside with a sad smile.
Yet, here an old quilt from warm hearth.
Soft and warm, thought faded.
Wrapped up in it's worth
You may forget you are jaded
From the past you loved to hate.
Long forgotten in a box
Translucent with age, like fairy wings
That taste like the rust on the locks
Keeping them from the outside world.
The sound of these voices
Is hard and bitter with cacophony:
The banging and shrieking of past choices
And emotions screaming for empathy
From any distant invisible outstretched hand.
Then others are like play dough,
Naively colorful in childish romp.
They were always for show,
Now hard with glitter, feathers, and pomp.
Set them aside with a sad smile.
Yet, here an old quilt from warm hearth.
Soft and warm, thought faded.
Wrapped up in it's worth
You may forget you are jaded
From the past you loved to hate.
知恵の子
Through a single tear
I see the true you.
All your hope and fear
And this impasse I've come to.
I'm stubborn
So stubborn,
I've bitten my tongue
A thousand nights.
I called you out,
Geared up to fight,
But after one shout
You took flight.
I've only known
You to be stubborn
And other words
I hope not to say.
Smoldering embers, I burn
Drown by tears from a dove.
I have so much yet to learn
About the hands of hate and love.
I see the true you.
All your hope and fear
And this impasse I've come to.
I'm stubborn
So stubborn,
I've bitten my tongue
A thousand nights.
I called you out,
Geared up to fight,
But after one shout
You took flight.
I've only known
You to be stubborn
And other words
I hope not to say.
Smoldering embers, I burn
Drown by tears from a dove.
I have so much yet to learn
About the hands of hate and love.
An Otherwise Chaotic House
Cool air makes the curtains
Float back and forth.
Rain pounds down
All around this quiet house,
All around this quiet town.
Crickets chirp in the dripping flowers
Pampas grass sags onto
Damp cedar bark.
Setting sun hides
Behind grey clouds
As night falls
And the storm ends.
Float back and forth.
Rain pounds down
All around this quiet house,
All around this quiet town.
Crickets chirp in the dripping flowers
Pampas grass sags onto
Damp cedar bark.
Setting sun hides
Behind grey clouds
As night falls
And the storm ends.
信仰 (Faith)
Reaching upward, growing tall
Sky split by steeple spire.
Here a place to hear Faith's call,
Kneeling at the feet of God,
In humble prayer to admire
At all the wonders to be awed.
Here to rest in white pall.
In the churchyard to retire,
Darkness onto life will fall.
As one lives by rule and rod
The soul climbs higher
To Heaven's gate abroad.
In the dust and dirt we crawl
All labeled: sinner, thief, or liar.
Read here, letters from Saul,
To weed out all fraud,
Be baptized by holy fire
And rise up in the name of God.
Sky split by steeple spire.
Here a place to hear Faith's call,
Kneeling at the feet of God,
In humble prayer to admire
At all the wonders to be awed.
Here to rest in white pall.
In the churchyard to retire,
Darkness onto life will fall.
As one lives by rule and rod
The soul climbs higher
To Heaven's gate abroad.
In the dust and dirt we crawl
All labeled: sinner, thief, or liar.
Read here, letters from Saul,
To weed out all fraud,
Be baptized by holy fire
And rise up in the name of God.
Flywheel
Tick, tick, tick, tick
Like a playing card in bicycle spokes.
Spinning, it starts to hum
The melody of the motion of invention.
The ticks become an old car
Guttering down a rain slick alley,
Faster and faster:
To a smooth-engined roadster,
Careening through the scenic view,
To a plane readying for take off,
Readying to unite the world.
No sound of gears
Just the spinning.
Such a small amount of energy
Adding and adding
And building up inertia
To go continuously around and around.
The quick release:
Power gone faster than possible.
Success and survival
Completing circuit after circuit.
Like a playing card in bicycle spokes.
Spinning, it starts to hum
The melody of the motion of invention.
The ticks become an old car
Guttering down a rain slick alley,
Faster and faster:
To a smooth-engined roadster,
Careening through the scenic view,
To a plane readying for take off,
Readying to unite the world.
No sound of gears
Just the spinning.
Such a small amount of energy
Adding and adding
And building up inertia
To go continuously around and around.
The quick release:
Power gone faster than possible.
Success and survival
Completing circuit after circuit.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)