Silenus
08-22-2013, 12:10 AM
Hello one and all. I hope this, my first real post on this forum, finds you well.
I have been writing poetry on and off for the past 24 years. I have rarely had them read, and never had them critiqued, so I would be very grateful for anyone to invest a little of their time, and perhaps even leave a comment with your thoughts. I have posted four poems in this thread. I hope that this stretches neither friendship nor patience for anyone. Thank you so very kindly in advance.
The Angler
You with your casting pole, I gladly embrace the barb
Between my lips - oh! Bitter-sweet pain, do not leave me,
For I, ensnared by you, wish not to be free -
The boundless oceans hold no greater pearls, nor can sun garb
Depths with greater sparkle. Even tidal powers
Are as nothing to the supple, invisible line
'Twixt you and me; fight I may, but why? Better to resign
To my fate, relent to the tug of you, for freedom sours
In veins filled with fire, burning fire, not ice;
Angler, skilled angler, your allure is greater than you thought
May be possible, and I am bound, no matter the price:
Recklessly led by tensions of heart, not line - caught
And gladly so, for it brings me closer to thee, thrice
Talented - caster, catcher, keeper, whom so long I've sought.
Terror Former
Terra Firma,
Terror Former,
Release your grip on me.
Tug of love,
What goes up comes down -
Stupid planet, can't you see:
It's fatal attraction,
A lethal action,
Reaction,
Faction,
Fight,
Loss of sight -
Can't you see,
It's fatal attraction
To keep us here,
Because we'll destroy you
Through our fear.
Sinking feeling,
Stinking stealing -
Mother! We will abuse you;
The situation is grave -
Only one way to save
Yourself:
Gravity -
Don't.
And So I Am Become Darkness
The dark night consumes me with its unfeeling blackness,
Incapable of caring or even knowing I exist within its infinite reach;
Hope, that warm light that I once could turn my face towards,
Is for naïve fools and restless fanatics, neither of which is me;
And so I am become darkness.
Love, that crazy dream, that half-lucid reverie of madness,
Once called to me, promising a bridge to cross the breach,
With its boiling of the blood and its tantalizing rewards,
Only to turn its back on me, a slave who once was free;
And so I am become darkness.
There is no space more cavernous, nor place that is more cold,
Than that which for so long was bathed with golden light,
Only to be plunged into a startling, deathly gloom,
All the more real and palpable for having known its opposite;
And so I am become darkness.
I once was drawn to believe that fortune favours the bold,
But that is a hard ideal to cling to, surrounded by uncaring night;
With sight's sense gone, I listen for my heart's boom,
Only to confront a numbing silence inapposite;
And so I am become darkness.
What once I turned to for comfort, is now emptiness and lies,
There is not enough stuff in this world to fill the gaping void,
And thought is but a reminder that emotions cut so deep,
And emotions are but a reminder that thought is of no aid;
And so I am become darkness.
With love being the seed of life, what's left when it dies,
And with the fields struck fallow, of growth and hope devoid,
What is there left to do? Oh cruel harvest, now it's time to reap,
With light but a memory, given now to fade;
And so I am become darkness.
The Taste Of Life
I have tasted life and now I humbly attempt to describe it,
All at once a food critic and evolving gourmand:
Three courses.
The entree was nice,
But I wasn't always mature enough to truly appreciate its simple splendour
(Though now I think back and remember the taste with fondness).
The main is delightfully complex, and,
Though not always pleasing to my palate,
It is the most wonderful course I have ever eaten.
The dessert I have yet to sample,
But from where I am sitting,
It looks absolutely delicious.
The accompanying drink is a rich and dry red,
At first fruity, but with a long peppery finish.
The glass appears always to be half full,
No matter how many draughts I take of it.
I even tipped the glass over once,
Clumsy and afraid,
And though it spilled onto the tablecloth,
When I righted it, it was as full as before.
Alas, the girl I was dining with has left,
But the empty chair across from me will not always be so,
For a meal shared tastes all the better...
I have been writing poetry on and off for the past 24 years. I have rarely had them read, and never had them critiqued, so I would be very grateful for anyone to invest a little of their time, and perhaps even leave a comment with your thoughts. I have posted four poems in this thread. I hope that this stretches neither friendship nor patience for anyone. Thank you so very kindly in advance.
The Angler
You with your casting pole, I gladly embrace the barb
Between my lips - oh! Bitter-sweet pain, do not leave me,
For I, ensnared by you, wish not to be free -
The boundless oceans hold no greater pearls, nor can sun garb
Depths with greater sparkle. Even tidal powers
Are as nothing to the supple, invisible line
'Twixt you and me; fight I may, but why? Better to resign
To my fate, relent to the tug of you, for freedom sours
In veins filled with fire, burning fire, not ice;
Angler, skilled angler, your allure is greater than you thought
May be possible, and I am bound, no matter the price:
Recklessly led by tensions of heart, not line - caught
And gladly so, for it brings me closer to thee, thrice
Talented - caster, catcher, keeper, whom so long I've sought.
Terror Former
Terra Firma,
Terror Former,
Release your grip on me.
Tug of love,
What goes up comes down -
Stupid planet, can't you see:
It's fatal attraction,
A lethal action,
Reaction,
Faction,
Fight,
Loss of sight -
Can't you see,
It's fatal attraction
To keep us here,
Because we'll destroy you
Through our fear.
Sinking feeling,
Stinking stealing -
Mother! We will abuse you;
The situation is grave -
Only one way to save
Yourself:
Gravity -
Don't.
And So I Am Become Darkness
The dark night consumes me with its unfeeling blackness,
Incapable of caring or even knowing I exist within its infinite reach;
Hope, that warm light that I once could turn my face towards,
Is for naïve fools and restless fanatics, neither of which is me;
And so I am become darkness.
Love, that crazy dream, that half-lucid reverie of madness,
Once called to me, promising a bridge to cross the breach,
With its boiling of the blood and its tantalizing rewards,
Only to turn its back on me, a slave who once was free;
And so I am become darkness.
There is no space more cavernous, nor place that is more cold,
Than that which for so long was bathed with golden light,
Only to be plunged into a startling, deathly gloom,
All the more real and palpable for having known its opposite;
And so I am become darkness.
I once was drawn to believe that fortune favours the bold,
But that is a hard ideal to cling to, surrounded by uncaring night;
With sight's sense gone, I listen for my heart's boom,
Only to confront a numbing silence inapposite;
And so I am become darkness.
What once I turned to for comfort, is now emptiness and lies,
There is not enough stuff in this world to fill the gaping void,
And thought is but a reminder that emotions cut so deep,
And emotions are but a reminder that thought is of no aid;
And so I am become darkness.
With love being the seed of life, what's left when it dies,
And with the fields struck fallow, of growth and hope devoid,
What is there left to do? Oh cruel harvest, now it's time to reap,
With light but a memory, given now to fade;
And so I am become darkness.
The Taste Of Life
I have tasted life and now I humbly attempt to describe it,
All at once a food critic and evolving gourmand:
Three courses.
The entree was nice,
But I wasn't always mature enough to truly appreciate its simple splendour
(Though now I think back and remember the taste with fondness).
The main is delightfully complex, and,
Though not always pleasing to my palate,
It is the most wonderful course I have ever eaten.
The dessert I have yet to sample,
But from where I am sitting,
It looks absolutely delicious.
The accompanying drink is a rich and dry red,
At first fruity, but with a long peppery finish.
The glass appears always to be half full,
No matter how many draughts I take of it.
I even tipped the glass over once,
Clumsy and afraid,
And though it spilled onto the tablecloth,
When I righted it, it was as full as before.
Alas, the girl I was dining with has left,
But the empty chair across from me will not always be so,
For a meal shared tastes all the better...