Echoes From the Edge

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Originally Posted by Pendragon

Echoes From the Edge: CHAOS

This is an average human mind.
Shall we open Pandora’s Box, to see what’s inside?
Da-da-da-da-dum-dum. Da-da-da-da-dum-dum. “Tonto get horses, Kemo Sabe.”
“…and who, disguised as Clark Kent, mild mannered reporter for a great metropolitan newspaper…”
“The heartbeat of America! Today’s Chevrolet!”
“Me Tarzan! You Jane!”
“The weed of crime bears bitter fruit. Crime does not pay. Only The Shadow knows…”
“Now, yew best be outa Dodge ‘fore sundown, stranger!”
“Try-y-y-y-y Chef’s Blend! Meow! “
“And may The Force be with you..”
“Subtract the amount on line 32 from the amount on line 16 …”
“The Devil made me do it!”
“Beep! You have mail!”
“Be very quite! I’m hunting wabbits! HAHAHAHA!”
“Manning drops straight back for the pass…”
“Attention Wal-Mart shoppers!”
“This year there is only one logical choice for President…”
“Tylenol: Recommended by more doctors for relief of…”
“…everlasting fire, prepared for the devil and his angels…”
“George, George, George of the Jungle, strong as he can be! Watch out for that tree!”
“Elementary, my dear Watson!”
“You got to ask yourself a question. Do I feel lucky? Well, do ya, punk?”
“You’re in good hands with Allstate…”
“Flintstones! Meet the Flintstones!”
“Beam me up, Scotty. There’s no intelligent life down here.”
“Attention all employees: There will be a mandatory meeting to discuss wasting time…”
“Wild thang! You make my heart sang! You make everythang—groovy…"
”Bah, humbug!”
The mind seems a churning cauldron of misuse!
Small wonder then, that mine blew a fuse…

D.L. Harris
© 1/12/99

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Brilliant. Nothing less but brilliant.
I wish I could've thought of that idea before!

Echoes From the Edge: Bubbles

The bubbles rise slowly
To the surface of the tarn—
Where they may float endlessly
Or burst at once

They rise up one by one,
Like boiled-eggs at breakfast—
Or in long tangled skeins
Like frog-spawn—

Each bubble a memory
Of things long forgotten—
Of roads one has taken—
Of people one has loved…

Some are vibrantly colored—
Pleasant past visitations—
Some dark and foreboding—
Like tombstones in a misty rain…

They rise up to the surface
From the Bubble Generator—
That perpetual motion machine
That lies buried beneath the tarn…

For Memory is a cold and heartless Mistress—
She cares not for emotion:
She will break your heart to pieces;
She will shatter your mind…

The tarn is a bottomless abyss—
The machine, quite unbreakable—
Every hour, every minute:
The Bubbles are rising…

D.L. Harris
© 11/11/00

Quote:

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Originally Posted by Pendragon

Yeah, maybe. But let me give you a scenario. You see a police road check ahead. You get ready for it by getting out driver's license, registration, proof of insurance, etc. The policeman walks up whistling the theme from, say, The Beverly Hillbillies . You are libel to tell him your name is Jed, because you are attuned to the song: "Come and listen to my story 'bout a man named Jed, a poor mountaineer barely kept his family fed." This is how these things feel up the mind to pop up when you don't need them!:D

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hmmm... i see what you mean, i understand it now, thank you, at first i thought it was a general statement about the condition of the human mind, but now i see it is more of a specific reference to a psychological peculiarity...

Quote:

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Originally Posted by Pendragon

This is one of the rough ones. Don't loose the author in the poem. It was written from another's viewpoint.


Echoes From the Edge: Dementia

No! Please stop! Stop it!
For God’s sake go ‘way!
No, please, oh God! Can’t take it!
Make it stop!
Can’t stand it anymore!
Images, haunting images. Faces. FACES!
Make ‘em go ‘way!
No! Stop! No more of your gibbering voices!
Lemme ‘lone, oh God! Lemme ‘lone!
The room is spinning—
I didn’t do it, I tell ya! It wasn’t me!
Haunt me no more, I swear I didn’t do it!
Oh God, where do these things come from?
Get out! Out, or by God, I’ll kill you!
Please, just lemme ‘lone? Please?
Dear God, what’s all this red stuff? Ket-ket-ketchup?
I think I’m gonna be sick…
I want my mommy.
Please?
Mommy, where are you?

D. L. Harris
© 8/25/1996

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Interesting...you have a uniquely accurate view on dementia. My parents/uncles thought my grandparents had dementia for the longest time, fortunetly I was able to knock some sense into them (They are all just begging for an excuse to put them in a nursing home. It's quite sad, really...). Sometimes I think i'm the only sane person in my family...sometiems I think i'm the only insane person in my family :lol:

Disturbing, yes, but very moving. I'm sure you know this by now, but you're gifted.

Echoes From the Edge: Hobo

I'm out on the road again
The towns go by like grains of sand—
I'm trying to make Memphis before dark.
Got no home to go back to—
Just a pilgrim passin' through—
How could anybody ever think this life's a lark?

They just don't see the wind and cold,
The lonely nights with no one to hold—
When the Nightmares come riding in...
Up before dawn--and on my way once more,
Churning down the road in bleak downpour—
Born to loose—I never seem to win...

D.L. Harris
©10/22/96

http://smilies.vidahost.com/ups/DeNiro/tylerdurden2.gif

hey, even though i don't currently have a poem i want to post on echoes doesn't mean it should fade to anonymity, it is a worthwhile thread

here, another echo to speak with the others...

Echoes From the Edge: Despair

What will I do, now that all hope is gone
With whom shall I speak, I am alone
These words sorrowfully cast, from up high
Rain bleak as the night none say is hallowed
Comes down, the frozen flame of soul is out
Cast away like the match it is, worthless
A moments sparks worth, all flame and soil
Dirty and raging, this ruined my life
Decades of hope, kindled in brief seconds
Like the spark that ignites the fires of hell
The sword stroke that ends a kings dynasty
So this, my life was wasted… by a match
Brief flare of life, then dark, only fire brings

Quote:

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Originally Posted by Pendragon

Echoes From the Edge: CHAOS

This is an average human mind.
Shall we open Pandora’s Box, to see what’s inside?
Da-da-da-da-dum-dum. Da-da-da-da-dum-dum. “Tonto get horses, Kemo Sabe.”
“…and who, disguised as Clark Kent, mild mannered reporter for a great metropolitan newspaper…”
“The heartbeat of America! Today’s Chevrolet!”
“Me Tarzan! You Jane!”
“The weed of crime bears bitter fruit. Crime does not pay. Only The Shadow knows…”
“Now, yew best be outa Dodge ‘fore sundown, stranger!”
“Try-y-y-y-y Chef’s Blend! Meow! “
“And may The Force be with you..”
“Subtract the amount on line 32 from the amount on line 16 …”
“The Devil made me do it!”
“Beep! You have mail!”
“Be very quite! I’m hunting wabbits! HAHAHAHA!”
“Manning drops straight back for the pass…”
“Attention Wal-Mart shoppers!”
“This year there is only one logical choice for President…”
“Tylenol: Recommended by more doctors for relief of…”
“…everlasting fire, prepared for the devil and his angels…”
“George, George, George of the Jungle, strong as he can be! Watch out for that tree!”
“Elementary, my dear Watson!”
“You got to ask yourself a question. Do I feel lucky? Well, do ya, punk?”
“You’re in good hands with Allstate…”
“Flintstones! Meet the Flintstones!”
“Beam me up, Scotty. There’s no intelligent life down here.”
“Attention all employees: There will be a mandatory meeting to discuss wasting time…”
“Wild thang! You make my heart sang! You make everythang—groovy…"
”Bah, humbug!”
The mind seems a churning cauldron of misuse!
Small wonder then, that mine blew a fuse…

D.L. Harris
© 1/12/99

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Oh my word! I cannot believe the images and emotions that this "chaotic" piece has managed to evoke.I'm sitting at my desk and I can almost swear that I can hear the shouts.
Once again Sir Pen, honor is given were honor is due. Hats off

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Originally Posted by OZEED

Oh my word! I cannot believe the images and emotions that this "chaotic" piece has managed to evoke.I'm sitting at my desk and I can almost swear that I can hear the shouts.
Once again Sir Pen, honor is given were honor is due. Hats off

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Thank you, OZ! It isn't going to fade away, Tris, I've been more than a little sick lately, and haven't had time to dig through my poem files. I will though. Soon.
Pen.

[QUOTE=Pendragon;309500]Echoes From the Edge: Hobo

I'm out on the road again
The towns go by like grains of sand—
I'm trying to make Memphis before dark.
Got no home to go back to—
Just a pilgrim passin' through—
How could anybody ever think this life's a lark?

They just don't see the wind and cold,
The lonely nights with no one to hold—
When the Nightmares come riding in...
Up before dawn--and on my way once more,
Churning down the road in bleak downpour—
Born to loose—I never seem to win...

D.L. Harris
©10/22/96

This is the first poem I’ve read of yours, Pen. The idea in your poem is clear, concise, and straightforward. I think a lot of times when poets write(me included) we can get so wrapped in creating imagery that we lose sight of clearly developing our ideas in line. You don’t have that problem.
But at the same time I feel there is still something lacking; something that lets me know how ‘windy or cold’ these lonely nights are to the speaker in your poem. I connect with the idea, but not with its intensity.

well, hopefully you may attain some better health days, then you can strike me down with awe in your next post...;) ;) ;) ;) ;) ;) ;) ;) ;) ;)

Echoes From the Edge: Moods

The pendulum swings
From high to low
The tick-tock
Of the clock
Counts the tedium
On its circular abacus.
The boredom settle like fog
Over the low-lying marshes of the mind.
The arrow on the seismograph
Jerks like javelins of lightning.
The pendulum goes faster now—
Up, down, up, down, up, down,
Lightning flashing for each upswing;
And an Iron Bell tolling for each down stroke.
The clock ticks on—
Or is it a time bomb…

D. L. Harris
© 11/6/97

interesting, i like the comparison of an iron bell, makes the mind sort of leap to the conclusion that emotion is like noise, or rather music, and bells are used in churches, so can sound for weddings, mass or funerals, an interesting dichomatic sound...

Quote:

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Originally Posted by Triskele

interesting, i like the comparison of an iron bell, makes the mind sort of leap to the conclusion that emotion is like noise, or rather music, and bells are used in churches, so can sound for weddings, mass or funerals, an interesting dichomatic sound...

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You may also note that the words form the shape of a bell fairly well... That wasn't exactly accidential. Visual poetry. ;)

i hadnn't noticed it before, a bit rough but i can see it clearly. heres a bit of an enigmatic poem, it makes sense to me, but i don't know how clearly i am giving my message to the reader, commets would be appreciated.

The Dancer

Shadows fall with a creak, footsteps halt for fear of discovery as the shadow dancer hides in the light of a half false face. To the audience, only the gleam can be seen, half hopeful eyes glint in the spotlight, the reflected light conceals the shadow-soul in whatever their white-light eyes want to see. The light of the lie they want to see gleams in their eye, blind to the love of the shadow play, the daylight gestures seem to be the only good.

another freeverse, i know, a bit tiring, but in times when i just want to write emotion freeverse is my failsafe.