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| Poems and Prose Sketches; Poems from my Past | |
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| Tweet Topic Started: Jul 28 2010, 09:56 PM (79 Views) | |
| BriarRoseEve | Jul 28 2010, 09:56 PM Post #1 |
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I came across a song from the film "The Curious Case of Benjamin Button" that reminded too me back a year ago when I had made a collection of poems I had written while listening to this song, as well as a bunch of other, touching melodies from different artists. Listening to the music makes me miss the few, peaceful times of quiet solitude of my past when deeply felt emotions ran like newly-sprung ravines from the freshly broken walls of my youth. I craved to discover life's secrets, and the writing of my new-felt emotional discoveries manifests in either in a bunch of short stories, or a few poetry sketches. So here's a bit of my past (in the form of poetry), and a couple of youtube links to some songs I listen to when it rains, or it's night, or the fog's all out and there's a haunting beauty to everything, or when it's so darn early in the morning that it seems like you're living in one of your dreams, or nightmares. Listen to the songs while you read the poetry. Enjoy, and thanks for reading. ***** Sunshine on Lake Pontchartrain -- Alexander Desplat http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ycnLUhi-CaE "Queen Lydia's Lullaby" When sunlight sets like blood-stained tears, And bends your heart to weep, Who’ll speak soft words like lullabies, To sigh your pain to sleep? “And in the night of summers gone, When dreams are but shadow, Who’ll bear away the nightmares far, And hold the wicked low? “In mornings lost when darkness stays, forever in the sky, who’ll paint the black with diamonds bright, ‘till sunrise lifts up high? “In secret groves where thorns do grow, And villains lie in wait, Who’ll guide you far ‘till all is clear, And perils do abate? “And of a sea where waves do drown, And muddle up your mind, Who is the calm to reflect well, The answer you must find? “Who is the prose that speaks your heart, Who is always your friend? “Who is the heart that hears your fears, Who is your guiding hand? “Your mother, child, who holds you now With soul that shall now give, These promises that have been sung, So you may always live. ***** Blue Feilds -- Nobuo Uematsu http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CUsqSOUVjHY "Rain Dancing" Grey mists gather low over rolling sun-wilted dry farmlands, shading, filling, land's light-tired eyes and heat-smoldered lungs. Storm clouds growing, graying, swelling, the belly-roars of its distant thundering, teasingly shuddering this thirsting land's soul. Now comes the wind, first a gentle rush brushing soft upon child-flower fields, now a sweeping gale testing the strength of mighty wise-aged orchards. Wind's great breath, blowing swift cold crisp drops of rain, beating now their fiercely played-orchestra of run-wild notes against land's music-starved ears, drenching full with startling cool wetness land's dried well of inspiration. And my heart fills with all, and dances with all, and thus, writes, about it.... ***** The land will grow dry without rain, like the writer's pen empty without ink, when what keeps it alive is gone for too long. And there will be neither fruit, nor stories thereafter, to enjoy. ***** "Dark Romance" There exists Beyond paper, screen, portrait Emotion. Where there is dark, still You see. Shadows hide from light though it Creates them so. Their solemn faces veil stories. Others might see such as Walls. You only need know that souls, open -- accepting -- can pass through. ***** Will – Gretchen Yanover http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=S8FLpVaEwE4 "Her Tears" The music was playing soft, seeping through morose walls, velvet blue, dying shades of green yellow life. Tears fell from her dry withered face and only the blue of her eyes were alive. Crystal waters there could be seen. Once laughter flowed there. Once she smiled gaily oblivious to this sad fate she now awaited. One hand reaches for her, asks "Tell me your story, deep there in your crystal eyes..." But she could not speak. Yet the touch bonded hearts; one heard, understood now this weeping woman....saw her sad world through her crystal eyes. The music still played. What does she wait for? Lips thin, depressed. Only she watches the world tick by, seconds...seconds, and out her window the leaves still fell. And when she passed, the bond never broke. Even when the girl that had known her had left her. And she was sorry for that. ***** "True friendship is like sound health; the value of it is seldom known until it be lost." - Charles Caleb Colton ***** Landslide – Stevie Nicks, Fleetwood Mac http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MPc5YCBz9LQ "Home" Farm rainforest desert city home. Farm. Dappled light flecks wanderer crossing autumn paths 'yond where home's far, voices of life's stern mentor lost. Damp moist leaves from morning's cold sigh, trodden on, scents lift.... earthy, sweet. Breeze drifts, stirs leaves high...leaves fall red gold yellow laced 'midst a waning light of sundown. Farm rainforest desert city home. Rainforest. Waters side by side with trees, palms, emerald 'neath island's forever golden sun. Steam yawns up, soft... rainforest breaths clouds high 'pon pale blue horizon. Listen... rustles, wings beat winds, crickets chirr incessantly. Curious hand strokes passing bush and fern, bark and wood, quiet in this rain dew-jeweled world. Farm rainforest desert city home. Desert. Parched. Sand spills through bare foot toes, hot, seering...so run... sweeping shadow gold wind-tousled dunes footprints following swift behind this wanderer seeking secrets buried. Farm rainforest desert city home. City. Voice throws great exhaust heaves up, life's distant spats wails weeps, echoes now roaring high 'midst light flecked star splashed heights upon night's dark canvass. Farm rainforest desert city home. Home. Cup of coffee in one hand, pen down 'pon paper, ink splashed of heart drawn words. Small framed picture near....loved ones. Window open...dark out, few hours before sunrise, far world outside, thoughts farther but here. Where I am now. Home. ***** "A man travels the world over in search of what he needs and returns home to find it." George Moore ***** "Forest Ravine" Leaping along, clumsy now, atop moss-inlaid boulders, following Sister, young heart, who seeks some hidden pool to play in, laughing, I wondering if memories never fade. Gurgling water flows, splashes merrily up, kisses ankles, cold, clear, crisp as the shrill of birds, high, flit suddenly - shadows pass, light dances -- Blinds me, lost, my footing, slips! Sudden pain, arm flays, churns up Water, mud, dead leaves, debris. Laughter now. Like water that plays with its funny charm around me. Sister sweet has found her joy, I, now knowing...haha! memories never fade. ***** "Nighttime in a Rainforest Town" Last dregs of daylight, streak red and gold, the skyline above emerald-lush forests of the mountains. Quiet, now. Pale lights hum from weary homes, remnants of their long day's burdens sobered now by night's soft croon. In the shadow, somewhere distant, the sounds of slippered feet, many, slap rain-paved roads. Children race home, but not before catching one last game of Patintero. Night lengthens. Lonely moon, with her lover's glow, eases into the inky velvet skies, her many dreamers the Stars, alight. Dog then yowls at some drunk man, lost, who walks away from mistresses some familiar kareoke song spilling from his lips. Standing long on my balcony, watching Nightfall all across the island.... ***** Edited by BriarRoseEve, Jul 28 2010, 10:03 PM.
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| BarTalk | Jan 5 2011, 11:36 PM Post #2 |
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Good mix of media, rich imagery, loved meeting your world and family in your slide show. Been away for awhile, this was something warm and wonderful to return to. |
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