Pendragon? anyone home?
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Pendragon? anyone home?
Home? No. Still on vacation!
As I repeat, ad infinitum, my laptop was stolen. Sorry for the delays
Dark Muse: Dark subjects are definitely you forte!
YesNo: Death as a friend! Nice!
Zoolane: Sleep is often called "The Brother of Death" I liked the dream sequences
And ZOOLANE is the winnah!
Thank you Pen, I am sorry to hear about your laptop, I am sorry if I seem impatience.
hmm let see?
The Dark Hills by Edwin Arlington Robinson
Dark hills at evening in the west,
Where sunset hovers like a sound
Of golden horns that sang to rest
Old bones of warriors under ground,
Far now from all the bannered ways
Where flash the legions of the sun,
You fade--as if the last of days
Were fading, and all wars were done.
Quote is: Old bones of warriors under ground,
I will see if how many entries we get in week,
Bones
Old bones of warriors under ground
Are quiet when the day in done.
When morning comes they make no sound.
They're quiet as we linger on
And wonder when the other side
Will welcome us to pause and stay
Where from the living we, too, hide
And smile while they pass by and pray.
Blood soaked land and sounds of battle
Old bones of warriors under ground
My brother's voice has a death rattle
My heart freezes at the sound
He was cut down long before his time
Like my fathers of days gone by
I have to force my fear-haunted mind
Continue the fight with tear dimmed eyes
Is that reinforcements finally coming?
Will I live to fight another day?
I hear the trumpets and the drumming
It seems to echo from the grave
I see them coming with astonishment unbound:
We go to join old bones of warriors under ground...
Pendragon
(C) 10/16/2012
The Forgotten Dead
The scorched land's thirst
had long been slaked
by the blood which once soaked the earth
leaving the sands still rust stained.
Now parched as if cursed
by battles long fought, lost or won,
neither victories nor defeats hold meaning,
only bitter memories remain
and forgotten heroes.
A murder of ravens,
those carriers of the dead gather
upon the unmarked graveyard,
the old bones of warriors underground
long forsaken.
Can they have any peace
for the nightmares which haunt
their eternal sleep?
Only those scavenger birds
that bore their souls away
still remember where they lie
and the secrets buried with them.
I turn the soil with my Grandad's fork,
Fat handled, ash shafted,
Polished, stained, ingrained,
With the sweat from his hand.
I turn the soil He turned.
Potatoes lie deep
Like old bones of warriors underground,
I dig them out with my Grandad's fork
I dig out my Grandad,
Memories and taties together.
I collect them up in a bucket,
And bring them inside.
Yes, your poem is wonderful because it fragile but it undercurrent of death. Also had me wondered if you were watching 'Time team'.
Favourite lines are:Are quiet when the day in done.
When morning comes they make no sound.
Pen, your poem is greatly admire of the soldier point of view and war.
Favourite lines are:I have to force my fear-haunted mind
Continue the fight with tear dimmed eyes
Dark Muse, your poem was tale of earth being torture by war, the after ward animals take the after over so speak.
Favourite lines are:A murder of ravens,
those carriers of the dead gather
upon the unmarked graveyard,
the old bones of warriors underground
long forsaken.
Prendrel, your poem was of your Granddad, lovely touch of the potatoes and quite unique way of development of a poem from quote.
Favourite lines are: Memories and taties together.
I collect them up in a bucket,
And bring them inside.
winner is : Prendrel because of different way of writing poem. It also remind of my late Granddad.
Thank you Zoolane, The other two poems are amazing, which is why I tried something alternative.
Next up is some Ted Hughes.
The Horses.
I climbed through woods in the hour-before-dawn dark.
Evil air, a frost-making stillness,
Not a leaf, not a bird -
A world cast in frost. I came out above the wood
Where my breath left tortuous statues in the iron light.
But the valleys were draining the darkness
Till the moorline - blackening dregs of the brightening grey -
Halved the sky ahead. And I saw the horses:
I like the first line, but I think I'll go with -
"And I saw the Horses."
and I saw the horses
they looked like
flying torches
racing towards
the heights,
illuminating skies
horizons and the fars
they ran as fast
as light
towards the height of heights
their demena
was serene
their grace was something
seen
a beauty in pristine
and then I saw the horses
and I knew it was sensation
calling for their
return
And the Bloody Morning After...
The last trumpet sounded, a very haunting cry
There was smoke and fire, the Earth shivered and shook
And I saw the horses: white, red, black, pale
The horses are sheer terror to see
But the riders are the true horrors
The white face of Pestilence, gone forth to conquer
The scarlet face of War, blood was its Avatar and its seal
The dark face of Famine, bones showing through translucent skin
Then the pale skull of death, scythe clutched in hand
Flame and sulfur burn in their wake, for Hell follows after
The End is nigh and I hear the horses...
Pendragon(c) 10/22/2012
All Those Horses
A car gets used more than a horse
That doesn't go as fast of course
As when my foot demands more speed
Than I or any horse should need.
A car behaves more sensibly
With no pretentions to be free.
It doesn't throw you, ram your thigh
Against a tree to make you cry,
Embarrass you, insisting it's
The master when it has such fits.
I see those horses: obsolete.
They're glad I'd rather use my feet.
Wild Horses
I lie dreaming in fields of wheat
as I listen to the heart beat of the earth,
steady, it grows louder
pounding against my ear
through the sun dried warmth of the ground,
vibrating in my bones,
it begins to thunder, my eyes open
and I saw the horses come
out of the tall wispy grasses,
with the sun ablaze behind them,
all the world seems to be afire
and they run, as Valkyries,
leaving trails of dust,
they come to sweep me away,
dream-like I smile while they fly
above, one by one,
like feathers, my fingers can reach out
and touch their descending manes,
spirited away I ride into worlds never seen.