Congrats Riesa. I personally liked the verse "Deep in the pages of her books,
And a lone pressed crimson petal." The image, the emothions, and the impact were immediate. Looking forward to your choice.
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Congrats Riesa. I personally liked the verse "Deep in the pages of her books,
And a lone pressed crimson petal." The image, the emothions, and the impact were immediate. Looking forward to your choice.
Thank you, Orionsbelt. I liked your poem as well.
I found this photo intriguing, I hope you all like it and I'm looking forward to the poetry that comes from this. Happy writing!
http://i71.photobucket.com/albums/i1...Riesa/boat.jpg
þa gyt hie him asetton segen geldenne
heah ofer heafod, leton holm beran,
geafon on garsecg; him wæs geomor sefa,
murnende mod. Men ne cunnon
secgan to soðe, selerædende,
hæleð under heofenum, hwa þæm hlæste onfeng.
(High o'er his head they hoist the standard,
a gold-wove banner; let billows take him,
gave him to ocean. Grave were their spirits,
mournful their mood. No man is able
to say in sooth, no son of the halls,
no hero 'neath heaven, -- who harbored that freight!)
~Beowulf, Prologue
At Sea
Then there were no ashes on the mantle
Or boxes neatly stacked in concrete crypts
No stillness or sterility in death,
Instead another journey out toward
Whatever harbor lies along the line
Between endless grey sea; endless grey sky.
Wearing their swords and battle scars they stood
Where we stand now. This ship was then the bed
Where a king was laid to rest on rare treasure,
While above him in the sharp sea air
Cloth of pure gold glowed against the grey sky,
And the chanting of the mourners, rhythmic, rose
And fell, continuous and changing.
Ten strong men bore the fallen king
In his ship, to the shore, to the sea.
The chanting of the mourners rose and fell
Until the sounds grew distant to the dead ears
And mingled with the rhythm of the sea.
The sea, which now sounds in our ears,
Continuous and changing, while the ship
We now see is a weather wearied boat
Finally come to rest on a stony shore,
Worn and old and nothing golden in it.
You and I stand here in our funeral black
Clutching our printouts of a smiling face
In a fuzzy digital picture, and some
Carefully typed words about the deeds
Of a noble life. Are these enough
To carry all the memories that rise up
In silent suddering sobs? Are they enough
To send him on a journey in which life’s
Great change blends with life’s great continuity?
What chants can be made of these memories?
What gold can they be wrapped in I wonder,
As you and I look out across the grey water
Longing for once and future things.
Low Tide
The tide has passed, I am the bye.
The dreams are dead, dead as the sky.
I wish to be back, out at sea.
Yet the tide has passed, passed beyond me.
I once would walk among my friends,
And speak so beautifully of my end.
Yet here it is, or at least it must
As my pen now lies in dirt and dust.
My pen once was held in my hand
While I was out at sea, a disturbed land.
A land that held such profound glory,
But it's over. My Story.
I see the clouds on their finally leave,
As the tide has left and abandoned me.
The boat it tells of stories,
stories untravelled in the mind of man
but give this chance to a child
the untravelled tales begin to fly
imagination is a wonderful tool
to transport the mind from
the world
weary
views.
This child tells of tales untravelled
of pirates and treasure
as yet to be discovered
of maidens in danger
and brave young sailors
it tells stories of battles
not yet fought
of victories and losses
scars and wounds
lost loves and kisses
from the little girls views
This boat tells of untellable tales
in the eyes of the man.
But give it to a child
and let the adventures begin.
Nice entries so far, but Jon1jt, Page, VIRGIL, any takers?
I'm working on something Riesa. I need a little more time.
Very nice poem Riesa. Very well written, and I must comment on Virgil's poem. Excellent.
I don't want to sway the judge or anything, but wanted to tell Rabid Reader that I really liked his poem.
All the poems I've read here are wonderful. So much talent in one thread!
thanks, no one's ever complented my poems beforeQuote:
Originally Posted by Psycheinaboat
Thanks, holograph, and you are right about Virgil's. He's finding his voice in this thread, I think.Quote:
Originally Posted by holograph
By the way, I hope you will submit a poem too. I read your recent one in the personal poetry section and liked it a lot. It gave me chills.
Thank you.Quote:
Originally Posted by holograph
I think you're right Riesa. The contest is forcing me to hone my skills.Quote:
Originally Posted by Riesa
I am glad you enjoyed it. I certainly will attempt to submit one as well. ;)Quote:
Originally Posted by Riesa
Well here we go.
I could spend more time on this and I probably will at some point. Bit of a limrick I think.
dawn breaks on the hull of the umbra
at the edge of the sentience sea
creation far in the distance
a lifetime away from me
sit for a while and wander
through currents on that yonder shore
where babies laugh or ladies dance
and men like the eagles sore
new babies are covered in cloth
to cover their skin from the sun
brothers and sisters, cousins and friends
share what is lost and won
maidens set flowers floating
on a rivers of soft falling hair
pastel and powders applied to the cheeks
soften sunlight’s glare
young men contest their athletic command
with a ball, a wick, or a sprint
sweat and dirt the hallmarks of glory
in teams of two and a quint
fathers and mothers attend to the children
a carrot, a stick, and due care
the warmth of the fire is felt by the legions
who surround the family affair
The oldest gathered in gaggles
reflect on days long passed
feet propped just so on the porch rail
viewing days that are moving so fast
in the ebb and flow of the tao te jing
from every man, woman, and child
amber of joy is pressed from the mix
to a mead tasting sweet and mild
I for my part have passed through the mash
the esters have passed to the drink
I sit now here on the hull of the boat
where the oarsman meets those on the brink
I look to places I’ve passed through
And those where I wanted to go
I’ll tell you fellow traveler
It’s a wonderful place to know
I would like to have my poem put into the contest and see how it matches up with the ones I have read here today. They are a very good lot and I would be curious to see exactly where I stand as a poet along side this expressive bunch.