have and lost
one step closer to you
not oceans, but deserts apart
love and stain
a picture frame
of quarks and flame and rhyme
who knew this from ohio
always pulling softly
here I am
and round again
where love is just some folly
wrapped in a dark energy
come to be in Planck's time
fill with naught
a rythmic dance
the cosmos fading slowly
a wall of glass between us
with strawberries and some wine
as strong as fire
drenched in blood
the crimson coming quickly
I have and yet I've lost
woderful and sweet yet hollow
refresh again
in hope and pain
you're there but not to touch
Comments? Suggestions?
Purely Poetry
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christa lynn
- Oskar Winner: 2006
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trentm32
- Oskar Winner: 2005
- Posts: 2272
- Joined: 3/17/2002, 2:51 pm
- Location: my heart is in New York.
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holy effin' crap that's awesome. I LOVE the rhythm, and the flow is magnificent. The style and wording is great. I esecially like the 'strawberries, wine, and blood' part. that's fantastic.
*gives standing ovation*
*gives standing ovation*
"When looking up there, I just felt whole, like I belonged. Like one day I too would shine my most brilliant. Sitting there also made me think about sitting through services at my little country church back home. About that never-changing congregation of the same sixty-seven people and everyone has known you since before you were born. Now, out here in the real world, everything just seemed more vivid than when I used to sit in that little pew. That pew that was now so, so far away from where I was. I feared I had somehow left God behind there, too. I feared he was somehow just sitting there, saving my seat on the fifth pew from the front row, just waiting on me to come back. I left so quickly, I worried that he may not have noticed I was gone. And, now, I’m just too far away to find. So he’s just sitting there, patiently waiting on me to come back. I closed my eyes and prayed a moment. I hoped more than anything that he could still hear me." -an excerpt from my novella, A Sea of Fallen Leaves.
<a href="http://www.soundthesirens.com">SoundTheSirens.com</a>
<a href="http://www.soundthesirens.com">SoundTheSirens.com</a>
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christa lynn
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PeaceEleven
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Candy-coated Fake
- Posts: 906
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- Location: Winnipeg...hotspot for all suburbia wiggers!
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Candy-coated Fake
- Posts: 906
- Joined: 6/5/2003, 9:59 pm
- Location: Winnipeg...hotspot for all suburbia wiggers!
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I haven't posted any poetry in a while because...well...I didn't feel like getting it stolen again. 
I wrote this one this summer...
Lemon Trees
all alone in the green, green world
lemon trees sink their roots into my lungs
stealing my vitamins
with every raindrop that strikes the dust
drunk on nothing i can taste
i'll be a corpse without a history
what will you surmise when you discover my eye-sockets overgrown with yellow fruit
my hair a noose about my throat?
my days pained with hollow promise of redemption
it makes me want to run for home
i mouth a death-wish to the sparrow on my shoulder
never moving
never speaking
but always mocking my misery
until i succumb to grief
and crumble back into the soil
where i began as prey for lemon trees...
I wrote this one this summer...
Lemon Trees
all alone in the green, green world
lemon trees sink their roots into my lungs
stealing my vitamins
with every raindrop that strikes the dust
drunk on nothing i can taste
i'll be a corpse without a history
what will you surmise when you discover my eye-sockets overgrown with yellow fruit
my hair a noose about my throat?
my days pained with hollow promise of redemption
it makes me want to run for home
i mouth a death-wish to the sparrow on my shoulder
never moving
never speaking
but always mocking my misery
until i succumb to grief
and crumble back into the soil
where i began as prey for lemon trees...
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Solidarity 9-6347
- Posts: 1960
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- Location: Ann Barbor, MI
- Contact:
I've always wanted something to post here. All 3 of these were written with very different states of mind:
December 01 2004 (before I knew anything about poetry)
Longing Light
Frostbitten hands betray their state,
Turning green as an emeralded hilt.
The sword in all its fury's spate
Lacerates these hands for all their guilt.
What was the sun's fortuitous warming brilliance
Now has shirked her icy, smouldering corpus,
Reaching at the raindrops with hopes to melt the trance
That envelops in dark her magnum opus.
She cranes in vain to salve the wound
Lain by the incognizant Brutus
In aid of his longing mistress.
Neither Rues; the wound sealed in us.
Glancing down the line of shuck loves finds her weeping,
Never tasted gold and shrouded in shadow.
The sun sees another face while she is sleeping,
Yet whispers worship in this foolish rondeau.
Ahi crudo amor!
Parts she, to her sojourn inside wonted walls.
Come claim your wan whore.
December 25, 2004
The Professor
Serene Apollo sheds his morning light
On images of stone before the eyes,
With a chariot of burning sight
And reigns of diction, kindling the skies.
"Pluck us the genesis!" we cry to thee,
"The movements of thy soul so gently flow."
The bard, instructor, leadeth me to see
The mirror posed in front of my ego.
Yet these sweet melodies will seem to fade
When in himself, Apollo finds the haze
Behind the timeless theories and crusades;
With rear hooves in the heart, the front will blaze.
Will I remain ever in pupil's state
Or suffer fellow mortal Phaeton's fate?
January 30 2005
An Informal Encounter
The aged man spied a bright beach bloom that grew
And plucked it from the stalk despite a shrink
Of joy for plumb blossoms, although he knew
How lovely it would look over the sink.
He felt the softness of the petals and
Wondered why in youth, they felt as silk.
"Was love this false when I had eyes and hand?
Cruel idol, love must be, and all its ilk!"
The blossom then turned to a heavy stone
And the eidola true caused him disgust
So this, the feeble arm cast with a moan,
Into a sea of glistening diamond dust.
But when he wet his hands he yearned to see
The full picture of what his love must be.
December 01 2004 (before I knew anything about poetry)
Longing Light
Frostbitten hands betray their state,
Turning green as an emeralded hilt.
The sword in all its fury's spate
Lacerates these hands for all their guilt.
What was the sun's fortuitous warming brilliance
Now has shirked her icy, smouldering corpus,
Reaching at the raindrops with hopes to melt the trance
That envelops in dark her magnum opus.
She cranes in vain to salve the wound
Lain by the incognizant Brutus
In aid of his longing mistress.
Neither Rues; the wound sealed in us.
Glancing down the line of shuck loves finds her weeping,
Never tasted gold and shrouded in shadow.
The sun sees another face while she is sleeping,
Yet whispers worship in this foolish rondeau.
Ahi crudo amor!
Parts she, to her sojourn inside wonted walls.
Come claim your wan whore.
December 25, 2004
The Professor
Serene Apollo sheds his morning light
On images of stone before the eyes,
With a chariot of burning sight
And reigns of diction, kindling the skies.
"Pluck us the genesis!" we cry to thee,
"The movements of thy soul so gently flow."
The bard, instructor, leadeth me to see
The mirror posed in front of my ego.
Yet these sweet melodies will seem to fade
When in himself, Apollo finds the haze
Behind the timeless theories and crusades;
With rear hooves in the heart, the front will blaze.
Will I remain ever in pupil's state
Or suffer fellow mortal Phaeton's fate?
January 30 2005
An Informal Encounter
The aged man spied a bright beach bloom that grew
And plucked it from the stalk despite a shrink
Of joy for plumb blossoms, although he knew
How lovely it would look over the sink.
He felt the softness of the petals and
Wondered why in youth, they felt as silk.
"Was love this false when I had eyes and hand?
Cruel idol, love must be, and all its ilk!"
The blossom then turned to a heavy stone
And the eidola true caused him disgust
So this, the feeble arm cast with a moan,
Into a sea of glistening diamond dust.
But when he wet his hands he yearned to see
The full picture of what his love must be.
<3 Mademoiselle Pamplemousse
~The world would be a better place if only more things were made out of statue~
~The world would be a better place if only more things were made out of statue~