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Some Poems I Wrote

Started by Stargate525, October 27, 2011, 05:13:43 PM

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Stargate525

I never saw myself as a poet before I took a class on it here at college. I've been told I'm good. So, I figured why not post some in here? Nine of the ten I had to write. One of them... It's both intensely personal and I want to try and get it published, so... Sorry.

Snowman

There she is.
And it hurts
so bad
to see her with another.
Six feet away and
it might
as well
be a thousand.

Green eyes and pale grass
locked in orbit,
and it looks
so beautiful.
That all I can do
should do
will do
is stand.

And watch.

As I am melted
away
in their beautiful joy.

Stargate525


                                        Paired Snowflakes
                                                    Or
                                         A Jazz Piece in C
                                                    Or
                                    A Nightclub in December

Two walk down the stairs.
Snowflakes drifting from the street.
Hand on arm they sit.
                                                                  Band prepares to play
“I have heard they're good,”                    Pianist fiddles, aimless
Snowmelt in front of a hearth.                  Sax tunes his mouthpiece
Waitress takes orders.
                                                                 Drummer's sticks on sticks,
She tosses her hair,                                 “One, two, three, four!” music starts.
Golden sunray in summer,                        Cacophony of brasses.
Casts a glance stageward.

She doesn't like jazz!                               Winds pick up inside,
Horror of apprehension                            Reedy Sax and Beatbox Flute;
Falls like a storm front.                             Drums are redundant

“I guess they're alright.”                          Voice as autumn wind,
Curiosity, intrigued,                                  Sultry voice and vicious curves,
He returns Her smile.                               Vocalist begins:

Listen in silence.                                       Da dum de dum dah
Two good dinners sit untouched,             Skabba do duh bedoop bah
forgotten in Jazz.                                     [Sax Solo Begins]

Two heads come closer,
Savolium in coda,
Sunshine in snowstorm.
                                                                 Band hits crescendo,
“See my apartment?”                               Do do dah dah skabbah-dah
“I'd like that,” He says, breathless.          Shanghai at Midnight
Pay cash, keep the change.
                                                                 Audience applauds
Hand in hand they stand.                         stopping, smiling, bowing quick,
Morning sun reddens sky as                     they earn their cover.
One snowflake rises.
                                                                 Sax and flute re-tune.
                                                                 Vocalist sips her water.
                                                                 New song in fifteen.

Stargate525

The Black Eagle's Song

Tension lies thick in the air,
though the players don't quite seem to care.
The chick of the Eagle
lies dead, cold, and regal,
and the mourners all shout 'gainst the Bear.

The Black Eagle poked the Bear sleeping,
a Bear not content with its keeping.
Roused and awake,
plans it did make,
of some sport that they called Eagle-Reaping.

The Black Eagle looked and it eyed
its foes around every last side.
The Lion at sea,
the Bear bourgeois,
it swooped at the Rooster, Bear's ally.

What ensued would be best called a cockfight,
a battle to see who would be right.
A fight between birds,
fitted with spurs,
but these spurs, they were new and could bite.

The Lion was grazed by the Eagle,
in an action that was quite illegal.
The Lion marched forth
from its island up north
to war stripped of everything regal.

The war, it continued this way,
for years, several months, and a day.
The Bear was Red, bloodied,
the Rooster, quite sullied,
The Lion and Eagle, filleted.

But then from the west came another,
who considered the Lion a brother.
A ship of his, sank,
the preceding, rank.
An Eagle to fight 'gainst the other.

The White Eagle linked with its peers
and fought for not even two years.
A treaty was forged,
rose Black Eagle's gorge
and set up some painful arrears.

And there lies the Black Eagle's Song,
in lim'rick, some nine stanzas long.
How treaty and fear,
and secrets quite dear,
made the world wonder what had gone wrong.

Stargate525

Sara

I don't deserve you.
Your pale grass eyes,
your diamond smile,
your laughter.
You deserve a heart of gold:
shining, precious, molten,
able to encase you in a
perfect
beautiful
love.

My heart is a bone.
Hardened, strengthened by numerous impacts:
-I'm flattered-
-That's sweet-
-I'm sorry-
None have broken it, but all have cracked it;
damage filled back in
with scar tissue of rejection.

Bones don't feel.
Why then, does it do these things?
It skips at your gaze,
stops with your smile,
resonates with your crystal laugh.
It's fallen for you, despite itself.

I beg you to catch it,
this solid, pathetic thing,
the least of many candidates.

Yet.
It feels still. Beneath its bone
must lie some small mettle;
tarnished by pain,
rusted by sorrow,
and ready.

Ready to take
the polish of your love,
the shaping of your heart,
the fire of your presence.
Turn this iron into a shining steel
which would gladly
go with you in
fiery
grateful
love.

Stargate525

Inconsequential

One among thousands.
Millions, billions if you pull back.
An auxiliary cog in the massive
machine called humankind.

Pull back further.

This machine envelops a ball
of metal lost among dozens.
Themselves small specks moving around
a sun-sized center axle.

This small ball of flaming gas
itself moves in a circle,
flung far from its centerpoint.
A spin so slow that none can see
except the arcana of physics.

Pull back further.

This system one of thousands


Scope ungraspable.



Size impossible.




Who am I?

Stargate525

Night Ghosts


You look like purity.
Your sparkling little floes rushing
over the whiter stone,
the night and cold shushing
my own groan.

You caress me like a lover
gently. Ghostly strands parting
to greet me.
Drifts of you departing
'cross the ground fleetly.

You kiss me harshly.
Windswept particles sting
my cheek
even as the gusts bring
you forth to speak:

“Stay with me.
Diamond's glittering light
looks pale.
Come with me this twelfth night
you mortal, frail.”

I've heard this before.
Diamond's edge cutting
at uncovered skin
and harshly gutting,
waiting for death to begin.

Kick off the snow.
Warmth like honey burns
through your chrysalis.
Slowly, though, the heat turns
your kisses
into wet memory.

Stargate525

All my Normal Crap

I'm not strange.
Sure, there's a sock hanging in my room.
With a smile painted in permie.
It's the Ghost of Hamlet's Father.

And sure,
my desk drawer holds some strange items:
-a deck of Cthulu playing cards.
-a lone pin-pong ball (another smiley).
-one mock-up lightsaber.
-power supply for same.
-Bob, my skull (he wears a fedora)
-one bottle of fine Honeymead; bottle handmade.

But that's not strange.

My closet holds two swords;
Sorry, 'Stage Props.'
One of them fought in World War One,
the other, the handle is loose.
It's worse than my wasters.

Oh yeah, my wasters.
Handmade padded weaponry
to beat up on my friends.

I'm not strange.
My possessions are.

Stargate525

Okay. Let's talk.

I know you don't want to.
That's why we need to.
You worry me, you worry me with
this speech
and these actions
and the comments at the bar.

The sound of paintballs smacking into sheet metal.
You tell me things,
and I can guess:
It's the sound of dangerous thoughts
hitting your mental barriers.

One got through a while back.
It looked so beautiful when it was new,
that I put it on the mantlepiece of my heart.
You didn't tell me it was fruit.
It's rotten and black and its poisoned me.

I beat it down, that poisoned corner of me,
just like you do yours.
You laugh it off, you can make light, and
it helps me when you're there.
But alone
in the dark
I'm afraid that it's winning.

And it sucks.
'Cause it could be great.
But it can't.

And right now I need you as much as you need me.
Okay?
Let's talk.