View Full Version : some poetry

14th November 2009, 11:04 PM
its worth the read,

For Bea, so far away

For the diamond on the rocky shore,
You'd walk a mile on mile more,
And led by fate 'o luck you find,
Beauty of this kind.

But this shore's across the way,
Where 'diamonds aren't for us' they say
So back you turn, and all you find,
Is Beauty for the Blind.

Footsteps in the Sinking Sand

footsteps in the sinking sand,
your only path from space to land,
the web that's spun when on the run,
at any point has just begun.
This race of sinners, sons and saints,
is loosing, while the artist paints,
a picture for the ones who see,
that sorrow, pain and misery
are virtues in this society,
where rulers guard the ones that are free,
from their minds, to this mystery
wage war on love and harmony,
their arrows tipped with conformity,
when all at once you hear someone,
much louder than the sounding gun,
her tone is soft and calm and clear,
like the white winged ♥♥♥♥♥eteer,
she tells you she is from the land,
of Footsteps in the Sinking Sand
where the race is won by all,
who see the path, ignore the fall,
cant hear the crazy minds that call,
from behind their waterfalls,
that only serve to quench the thirst,
of the ones who break through first,
Running, singing, dancing crying,
Winning, loosing, laughing, lying
making love and holding hands;
leaving Footsteps in the Sinking Sand.

Barren of the Land (discourse upon the heath)

Take home the barren of the land,
For he hath not taken my hand,
Of English barrow carteth love,
Whilst wet their face dries in the sand,

No No! No No! This will not do!
The barren hath much work for you,
He leaves thoust hand but does not leave thou 'strand
Thoust hand is free to sow the sand.

But all this work and seed to sow,
Does leave, I feel, a frictioned toe,
Without support in different eyes,
My broken soul must soon arise.

Thoust idle words displeaseth me!
So simply I will ask this, of thee
If at night thoust bones noth ache,
Is the farmhouse bed really thousts to take?

Not here am I to pleaseth you,
I choose what I am here to do,
My body aches for still and rapid,
The act of life shall be well acted.

Its seems thousts writing thousts own script
With thou pen too zealously dipped,
The ink will run and shroud the page!
Your single role will crowd the stage!

Be still young newt,
For hath listened thee not,
Still thou plays from within the cot,
This world will suck the life from thee,
But does leave the love the People Tree..

.. I see, that we shall disagree,
But what I ask of you and me,
Is it not true, from the highest view,
That you are me, and I am you!

15th November 2009, 02:11 AM
Did you write them?

15th November 2009, 08:36 PM
yeah i did, im quite proud of them. their meaning to me is constantly evolving. the first two were out of emotional necessity, during a long distance relationship, and after a 'shamnic experience' in the amazon. i never really did much poetry until i went through highly emotive experiences, i had to express myself, started writing formally like a text manual, found this mode futile and hollow and simply had to use symbols rhyme and grace. so i kind of discovered poetry empirically if you like .
the last one is a bit of a joke. :mrgreen:

15th November 2009, 11:12 PM
I liked them a lot.
I might quote you next time someone displeaseth me. :wink:

16th November 2009, 10:01 AM
I like them too (sayeth she who teacheth English). :D

17th November 2009, 11:21 AM
i aimeth to pleaseth thee :D