03-16-2011, 11:29 PM | #421 |
Dread Mothy Lord and Halfwitted Apprentice Loremaster
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Haikus get ragged on a lot, and they can get kinda self-indulgent sometimes. Sometimes, though, they come out as simple and expressive perfection. Like this one.
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Crux fidelis, inter omnes arbor una nobilis. Nulla talem silva profert, fronde, flore, germine. Dulce lignum, dulce clavo, dulce pondus sustinens. 'With a melon?' - Eric Idle |
03-17-2011, 02:17 AM | #422 |
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wow, thanks!
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05-11-2011, 07:10 PM | #423 |
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something i scribbled down a while ago..
I know I always leave you it's always my own choice And when I do apologise, it never is my voice For 'though your touch is heaven your voice my favourite song It's to the touch of oceans and songs of winds I long
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08-10-2011, 03:28 PM | #424 |
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child of the fertile crescent
from that first brilliant flash of light and the high-pitched voices, from the first breath of dry air, cold against my naked skin, the very soil i fell onto from my mother's womb has never been mine; but its richness and naïve generosity bluntly stolen, torn from my bleeding hands by those who occupy our land to rape every growing thing to harvest our ancient history to build their armies to keep the power to control our soil. until the day i leave this light, these screams, the satisfying breath of air, i will mourn the country i never had; my tears watering its ever-giving soil.
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08-15-2011, 06:17 AM | #425 |
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http://i93.photobucket.com/albums/l7...IMG_6645_2.jpg
my love is a piano player my love is a piano player, dreaming in chromatic scales, of infinite circles of fifths and musical offerings; living a symphony of interwoven movements, working to compose our own polyphony rich in counterpoint and harmony. my love is a piano player, and i her moving hands.
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"Somewhere, something incredible is waiting to be known. " - C. Sagan My (photography) website My Flickr page |
11-06-2011, 07:15 PM | #426 |
Elven Warrior
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A sonnet
Pottery Together: incessantly the potters mold Us, clods of clay first dug from earth. A process replete with change; rebirth- That pots may one day water hold. Their hands methodically vertical- Flowing, smoothing those to crack, Straining to influence with chalk. Our shape, our form, made lexical? Some to the repercussion bend, Forthwith, for terminus easily gained, Cast fainéant, post years fourfold. Others tilt, they desire more, Taking advantage of the potter’s force; To one day more than water hold.
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Elleth Valatari "We have come from God, and inevitably the myths woven by us, though they contain error, will also reflect a splintered fragment of the true light, the eternal truth that is with God. Our myths may be misguided, but they steer however shakily towards the true harbour, while materialistic 'progress' leads only to a yawning abyss and the Iron Crown of the power of evil." — J.R.R. Tolkien Last edited by EllethValatari : 11-06-2011 at 07:17 PM. |
11-09-2011, 05:49 AM | #427 |
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good, strong heart
he was punished for his good life with a big, strong heart grown from hard work, abundant love, and an open mind always beating, sincerely, gladly without judgment, even when the gun was forced into his hands, even when his veins filled with crabs, circulating through him, pinching him, eating him; still, happily pumped around by that big, strong heart and after months on that cold hospital bed, in happiness or sorrow, a lone tear rolled down the dry, white cheek as his heart just wouldn't stop beating.
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12-31-2011, 04:43 PM | #428 |
Entmoot Attorney-General,
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Fête Surprise
I wrote this poem one night in February, immediately after I had come home from a lovely surprise party. "Uddevalla", mentioned at the end, is the town where I currently reside.
As I went to see my god-daughter Blenda,
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01-23-2012, 10:26 AM | #429 |
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A limerick I wrote when I first started looking for work after leaving the academic world... :P
Limerick From one to another universe I sprang and promptly hit my head with a bang! For students do not learn how to work or how to earn; Forever not a member of the Experience Gang...
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11-28-2012, 07:09 AM | #430 |
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Rain catcher
I can't seem to catch my thoughts they are falling down a spiral, lifted by a tornado Landing in soil, like seed germinating at first, only to explode into a forest: Dense, diverse, dripping, Full of life and I see how lucky I am, surrounded – embraced by this beauty, By you. Your confession started this wind that took my mind; Your fall for me and our mutual understanding and the love from those we've chosen to love – a network of all I ever wanted: Rational thinking, understanding, and feelings, abundant as the rain In a forest.
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