Hmmm i really WAS looking forward to reading some more poems on that beautiful picture :( Why is noone else participating? Dont let my wretched attempt at a poem be the only one in there, c'mon! :brickwall
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Hmmm i really WAS looking forward to reading some more poems on that beautiful picture :( Why is noone else participating? Dont let my wretched attempt at a poem be the only one in there, c'mon! :brickwall
I took mine more from the title than the picture itself:Quote:
Originally Posted by Pendragon
Creation of the Birds
Grey suit with a red, pocket handkerchief
on the ledge of a window
takes off his wedding ring.
ah, an image that strikes a chord of thought to the soul, alas... alas the words fall like lead from mine eyes, seeing without the careful thought that pierced my soul...
Sunstruck
Whispered silk streams poar in torrents
intolerant, and indolent, blank faces stare
with white eyes at the wonder of feathers
dreams wrought with blind hands and heat
moulded and twisted with the love of artist
though a blind eye was turned to the sun
the cold shoulder saw and threw forth an arm
that which hardens as a pair, a clay and earth couple
wings launching them skyward, an icharus freedom
away from creators tender brow furrowd with worry
the mothers tear stained eye looking out
the fathers flat face and hunched shoulders
Once with wax wings they also left, lamenting love
Blinded with sunstruck freedom, with white wings
But feathers fall, echoing down with the past
Coming down to earth, down back to solid love
Going back, and watching, watchig with blind eyes
The next pair of birds take flight, and hit the sky
a bit of a side swipe at the picture, inspiration taken, but perhaps in the wrong direction.
:banana: thanks for those poems! i was feeling kinda lonesome! :lol:
Well, that gives me four poems, at least. Where are the usual crowd? Petra, Virgil, Uncle Lar, Drama, Il Pen, 'Dole, Niamh, and others? http://i94.photobucket.com/albums/l1...es/Friends.gif
I'm feeling uninspired and have been having very little time... I'm just posting to encourage others. C'mon, people, this picture ought to stir something you you! :)
'His name no soul knows.
Not one man has ever beheld
Those crystal eyes, or ruby-like,
Or see-through lenses, hollow and wise.
But we do know he lived
And lives on still, eternal flame
Like that of the Sun.
We just know, just like we know
That Death awaits us all, even though
No one alive has ever met Her.
To whom to the birds chant?
And sing songs of longing and praise?
It is to Him, who sows and reaps.
Their lovely throats, their keen eyes,
Their fledging, fluttering, freeing wings,
All are his gifts to them.
The Lord of Birds is mild and kind.
The birds sing with joy
For they know that their last flight
Will be to His loving bosom.'
Look, look at the moon. How high it is!
It is late.
Be your dreams as sweet as this Summer night's warm breeze.
Think no more of Phiggy, now that you know
That he is gone to some place better.
Sorry pen i'm still trying to think of something!Quote:
Originally Posted by Pendragon
Nice Kandy! http://i94.photobucket.com/albums/l1.../CandyCane.gif
You other poets will have to do this:
http://i94.photobucket.com/albums/l1...lies/Brain.gif Hee-hee! As I recall, he had the same thing every night "Take over the world." Yours will be: "Write poems."! http://i94.photobucket.com/albums/l1...ilies/Grin.gif
Hey Pen, I didn't know the picture had changed. This is the best I can do right now.
Great spirit of the sky
Releasing all I know
May I glimpse with single eye
A truth from you that flows
With wisdom in my hand
I trek the mountains height
To wander to my land
Where my spirit takes it's flight
Sonnet (real this time)
And from His hands came the glory of the sky;
For the winds were barren and the clouds unknown.
Bidding them onward, he tossed them awry
So perfect were they, stable in that cyclone.
Them to the sky, the lot yet untaken
To Jove they answer, and nobody else.
Through their wings rushed the wind, freshly awaken
From peaceful Morpheus's deepest wells.
Zephyr rouséd, all the wingéd did soar
and clutched their lot in their taloned grasp.
He was much pleased with them yet more and more
When they struck at the ermine and the asp.
From contour to down, to birds was His heart
Unto them did he uncut grace impart.
They, the crown on his self-implaced duty
Divine joy stemmed from their simple beauty.
Sure about that?Quote:
Originally Posted by Dante Wodehouse
Certainly. Two added lines doth not a change make. Shakespeare twisted Petrarch's sonnets. I shall call my creation a DWian Sonnet. Or I can just knock off two lines and have no eponymous poem type. I shall do so next time, but I like this DWian Sonnet as is.Quote:
Originally Posted by Jolly McJollyso
The thunder crashed its mighty sound,
the lightning it did hit the mound,
Yet Old Bear sat and watched the sight
invoking his ansestors with all his might.
"I call on great owl, he that is wise,
And Hawk Eye and the leaders of the skies,
to show me wisdom, which path to take,
Away from the distruction white settlers make."
The wind did whisper and shook the trees,
The words were carried slowly on the breeze.
"Go." It spoke. "dont falter here to long.
For soon everything will all be gone."
"Go now, It's time for us to leave this land.
And head west before they take the food from our hands.
No longer can we call this our home, our place.
We must find a new and farther space."
And then the wind it calmed and went.
The storm lost the power the wind had sent.
And Old Bear turn his head mournfully to the sky,
and Let the tears of loss and sorrow fall from his eye.
Here goes, it's somewhat of a twist you could say- more on the man then the birds :
In this Blood
In this blood is the power of the eagle
majestic and strong.
The beauty of the sun
glinting off gold tipped wings
as he turns to the sky;
so he was chosen.
In this blood
is the all seeing eyes of the
owl and the falcon
by day seeing the smallest mouse
scurrying through the brush
hundreds of yards away.
By night not the slightest detail goes by unseen;
so he was chosen.
In this blood
is the hunter in both
attacking prey and protecting.
Killing all enemies in his path.
A quick and silent death
awaits those who oppose him;
so he was chosen.
In this blood
is the beauty of the bluebird,
whose wings spread out in protection
over speckled blue eggs
and whose song fills the empty air,
and rejoices over triumphs;
so he was chosen.
In this blood
is the humbleness of the sparrow,
simple and lowly,
but fast and intelligent.
In this blood
is the peace of a hundred doves.
Taking flight and
ready to spread peace
to all around;
so he was chosen.
And he was chosen
to lead his flock
to bring strength, power
beauty, and peace to his people
He is The Chosen One
so he will lead
So he was chosen
Absolutely! Create a new style! I did with the reversibles we had for the last form competition! Makes for a batch of new blood infused into poetry. Who knows? 100 years from now, maybe they will be studying reversibles and DWian Sonnets as part of poetry!Quote:
Originally Posted by Dante Wodehouse
And Good entries, all. My job is getting harder, which is great! There is still time for more entries, so let your ink flow! http://i94.photobucket.com/albums/l1...mailSmiley.gif