I love this part..
COMMENTS
Yes.. I know it isn't a documentary.
This is a little thing I like to call... a joke.
lol That's how I always pictured them to be, ass kickin' hockey players.
A JOKE?
How dare you!
*hugs*
Love it!
We do have many fine ballets here, don't we?
I know the secrets you try to hide
Obvious as the light of the sky
Against the dark seas high tide
I see through your intentions
Clear as this bottle before me
Powerful as the liquid it contains
Imprisoning that which should be free
Imbibing to the core of my being
Truth and fiction
One in the same
Spongy and weak
You will rescind your claim
...
Taking a page from Joli’s “How to Write” guide, I decided to put her suggestions to practice.
I’m taking a look at some familiar feelings… dread and foreboding. But first, a haiku.
Black washes over me
White snow hides all signs of life
The world dies again
*ahem*
Emo haiku. But it flows into my subject, dread and foreboding. Now, to pick up a couple images from Google that might lead a bit more substance to my poem.
This picture…Hmmm... a woman walking alone along a tree lined wall.
An old house behind a wrought iron fence, described as bringing back a sense of dread and foreboding.
A woman with glow-sticks in her cleavage?? Huh?
Ok, anyway, the first two will do.
So… from these pictures and my own internal thoughts, and what I see around me…
A place so familiar
Of discontent
Of discomfort
These old shoes
Once comfortably worn
Now broken and misshapen
Blister his skin with every stride
Shadowed feelings hang over him
Like the branches of the oaks above
Empty and gnarled
Boney fingers threatening
Pointing
Laughing
Dressed in their innocence
A white gown to wear
When life sleeps
And love dies
This iron gate
Rarely opens for the traveler
And the mansion of splendor
That resides beyond
Its hallowed halls
Seldom echo his footsteps
His head knows not the pleasures
Of its feather beds
And silver linens
He cannot warm his frozen hands
At its glowing hearth
He can only look in from beyond
To this unreachable bliss
Locked away
And left behind
To the merciless laughter
Of the trees
And the north winds
That blow his heart cold
In this
The winter of his love
He travels on
In his hand
Only a broken compass
Inscribed with the word
“Promise”
Thank you, Joli. You are always an inspiration.
COMMENTS
Wow.... These words go beyond images.
Morri's right. They far transcend the images you used as a sprigboard. You made them yourown and they are beautiful. I actually loved the haiku, too. Look how much you did within that concise piece...a progression from black to white to death. You are one hell of a writer. I love that you are willing to try new things. It's amazing to watch you grow as a writer, producing beautiful lines like:
"To the merciless laughter
Of the trees
And the north winds
That blow his heart cold
In this
The winter of his love
Inspiration must be a circle, because you are often my own. Never stop writing.
The image that glows
Spotlights and accolades
Applause and the roses thrown on stage
A performance for an audience of one
Held before the thunderous approval
From the masses and the many
This silent voice that says so much
Standing tall upon the stage
In front of the dusty curtain
Hidden behind a revealing mask
Disguised by the stage
Illuminated by the spotlight
Invisible to the audience
Only the words can be heard
From this silent voice
And the fleeting sense
What this show is about
The plot and the action play out
With no actors on the stage
Just a single voice
In silence
And this performance
All for an audience of one
COMMENTS
I know this comment is late. I like to read some of your work over again, spend some time with it before firing off my first thoughts.
The voice is both silent and audible since there are words heard...that's quite brilliant. The words are not the silent voice. That voice remains unheard and this poem tells us that the unvoiced is infinitely more interesting than anything else going on with that stage.
What I love most is the flow of the lines that give us in succession:
Hidden
Disguised
Illuminated
Invisible
I'll be back to read this one again :)
The slippery stones smile
Toward the scraped knees
And the blues of this mood
Cannot be soothed
By the miles or the smiles
Or the begging and the pleas
My eyes see and my eyes take
Along my weary way
The stories gathered in gloom
Another empty room
Through towns and over grounds
Nowhere meant to stay
In this empty drought of life
Given the means to think
Finding every punch of pain
Burning in sun light, drowning in rain
My mind twists; thoughts persist
Threatening to be gone in a blink
Never will there be solace
In the taste of blood or steel
Moonless sky; this darkest night
A smile creeps with my delight
This single round in the chamber found
A wound that will not heal
A slight of hand
Slighted by hope
No faith to lend
Or heart to mend
Mind bending pain; on the brink of insane
How are we to cope?
Finding the strength
From the blood within these jagged veins
These hearts beat hard
Each moment another card
Hands overflow with what we don’t know
Each beat finding more pain
These pillars shows the cracks
Being overcome by the rising tide
Chipping away
A little more each day
Pieces fall but we will still stand tall
If we stand by each other’s side
COMMENTS
The slippery stones smile
Toward the scraped knees
And the blues of this mood
Cannot be soothed
By the miles or the smiles
Or the begging and the pleas
I am in love with this
She's right, you know. It's gorgeous.
"My eyes see and my eyes take
Along my weary way
The stories gathered in gloom
Another empty room
Through towns and over grounds
Nowhere meant to stay"
The emotion in this is tangible. I know this feeling. I've felt it a thousand times over in the pit of my stomach. I just never know whether to associate it with fear or jubilation of what's next.
Again, your words continue to astound me. How you visualize your experiences with words is beautiful.
COMMENTS
-
sahahria
14:26 Dec 31 2008
OMG so flippin true Hahahahahaaha!!!