If This Is My Last Poem on LitNet...

[Pendragon]

Sorrow and Remembrance

The joy of my writings
May be tainted forever—
This vast imagination,
That usually serves me so well—

I’ve painted my dreams
Across paper canvases
Words become images alive,
Born of the union of paper and quill—

Fate is so uncaring,
A cold, bitter succubus
Just when I think my words create heaven
She turns it into a burning hell—

Think I'll hang my harp
Upon the nearest Witch Willow—
How can I sing my songs,
When in my heart I know what has befell?

Oh, I long for the days,
When freedom meant freedom—
And we didn’t have to live under clouds of suspicion
Before the twin towers fell—

Pendragon
© 8/4/07

[Bii]

First of all I have to say, Pen, this isn't your last poem on Lit-net is it? I'd be very sad to see you go, as would many, many others.

It's a good poem, the emotion is incredibly strong, almost painful. I especially like this part (though I think you mean 'create' in line 3 - lightening fingers!)

Fate is so uncaring,
A cold, bitter succubus
Just when I think my words crate heaven
She turns it into a burning hell—

and this bit :

Oh, I long for the days,
When freedom meant freedom—

The reference to the twin towers came a little out of the blue for me, but I get the impression that this is a very personal poem which expresses something close to your heart, so I wouldn't change it.

Don't hang up your harp Pen.

[rabid reader]

after writing something as beautiful as that I would hope not, its beautiful tragedy as out-lined as the art which you loved betrayed you somehow.

such beauty in this stanaza:

Fate is so uncaring,
A cold, bitter succubus
Just when I think my words crate heaven
She turns it into a burning hell—

My question can only be what had fate done that turned your gift into hell?

[PrinceMyshkin]

None of us knows
which will be the last poem
he or she writes. But perhaps
it will be the one before
the first one we ever wrote?

[CdnReader]

((( Pen )))

[Pendragon]

First of all I have to say, Pen, this isn't your last poem on Lit-net is it? I'd be very sad to see you go, as would many, many others.

It's a good poem, the emotion is incredibly strong, almost painful. I especially like this part (though I think you mean 'create' in line 3 - lightening fingers!)



and this bit :


The reference to the twin towers came a little out of the blue for me, but I get the impression that this is a very personal poem which expresses something close to your heart, so I wouldn't change it.

Don't hang up your harp Pen.

oops! Yes my fingers never keep up with my brain. Thanks. We'll see about hanging up the harp. On the other hand, if this were your last poem on LitNet, what would you write?

Focus that way for now, poets. Endulge me.

Pen

None of us knows
which will be the last poem
he or she writes. But perhaps
it will be the one before
the first one we ever wrote?

A good point and well-taken encouragement. Thanks, Jerry.

[motherhubbard]

It is a feeble attempt but…

Loss of the resident troubadour


Quiet falls with the hollow sound
of one drop hitting the bucket.
It is the scream of loneliness
that forever changes the surface of the
Earth, and home, and mind.
A sound followed by the wrenching
uncertainty of the universe.
Each stands alone in its gravity.

Where hope has flown no one can follow.
The song is beyond reach.
The earth still spins through the phases
of the moon and the seasons
and the years pass by into forever.
But the void still stands.
The future searches for what was lost,
but how can they know what they missed?

[Bii]

*deleted*

[PrinceMyshkin]

Rough? Rough? Oh yes, like 600 count sheets made of the finest Egyptian cotton are rough! Like a parent's lullaby to a much beloved baby is rough!

Get REAL! This is very, very beautiful! And if by the roughness you are alluding to the spontaneity of the flow, the line-breaks, they add immeasurably to the beauty of this.

Thank you!

[Niamh]

Pen i really hope that this is not your last poem, and that you do not leave us here on litnet. Dont give up Pen. Dont let yourself be consumed. You are a strong brave man. I believe in you.

[Pendragon]

Sorrow and Remembrance

The joy of my writings
May be tainted forever—
This vast imagination,
That usually serves me so well—

I’ve painted my dreams
Across paper canvases
Words become images alive,
Born of the union of paper and quill—

Fate is so uncaring,
A cold, bitter succubus
Just when I think my words create heaven
She turns it into a burning hell—

Think I'll hang my harp
Upon the nearest Witch Willow—
How can I sing my songs,
When in my heart I know what has befell?

Oh, I long for the days,
When freedom meant freedom—
And we didn’t have to live under clouds of suspicion
Before the twin towers fell—

Pendragon
© 8/4/07

OK. I see by the PMs I have some explaining to do. My health has gone down in the last several months. Last week I had two major tests ran on my brain. It didn't help that a favoritve uncle was found to have an anurism, which is what my dad was having surgery for when he died on the operating table. I do not yet know the results. My head hurts all of the time, sometimes worse than others.

A person like myself, who is bi-polar, has to learn to live with a certain amount of suspicion, fueled by Hollywood, which loves to make villains crazed people who are off their medication. There are twin halfs of the brain, I am normal right handed, but fairly ambidexterous, thus my twin towers fell.

Also the world has never been the same since 9/11, the day the twin towers fell. Things are done without thinking of long term effect. Suspicion falls on everyone. My own mother was checked by security, when she set off the alarm at a local airport because her hair is very long and she pins it up. The hair-pins set of the alarm.

If I have to leave, it will be over health issues, and I cannot see the future. I trust that they can find a way to fix what is wrong. Do I trust that God could do it? Certainly. But the technology is here for my use, and I avail myself of it. As any sane person should. God goes where man cannot, and until the time they say, "We can't help you.", I will pray and continue with the tests and medicine.

But if it was my last poem, I wanted it to have meaning.

God Bless everyone.

Pen

[Niamh]

i understand Pen. I'll be thinking of you. Hope you get through it all. I'm not religious but i'll say a pray for you.

[Virgil]

God bless you Pen, and let us hope for the best. A nice poem by the way. I don't know if this was mentioned, but shuldn't "befell" be "befallen"? Not sure myself.

[Petrarch's Love]

Hang in there Pen, we're all praying for you, and just remember that David produced several psalms after he wrote about hanging up harps, so certainly our Pen can find a way to give us more gifts from his pen.

[symphony]

Pendragon,
You have been one of my most favorite writers in this forum. Seeing you hang up your harp will be something very painful and there certainly will be a storm of sighs in here. We all are here praying for you with the best interests in our hearts.

Lets hope for the best and, like Niamh and Petrarch has said, I too hope you dont give up and hold your "magic wand" as strongly as ever!

Praying for your health
Sy.