deathpoet's blog: "poem"

That I thought I saw the sun,                                                         

what a fool i was

and staring into the pit until all i see is

-black-

so cool,

safe,

i can hide again,

the darkness, the womb

the safety the -

STOP!!!!

you know you wanted the light...

and the black...

is blind

suffocating

i feel the cobwebs

it crushes, i'm scared

-

someone...

come

please...

and yet, i so love...

THE BLACK!!!

like a cat wound too tight

i await in the shadows

watching -

THUD

THUD

THUD

 

the clock ticks in near silence

the waiting, the pain

the sad and lonely quiet...

shunning the day, shunning the night...

watching -

THUD

THUD

THUD

 

my heart beats in almost imperceptable silence...

we're ethereal,  ghosts...

untouching phantoms

oh to reach out and with one thrust...

SHATTER the miles... i would

TOUCH you

STROKE you...

and in that act..

become the beast with two backs...

to writhe,

to liftandfallandliftandfalluntilallatoncebeone!

THUD

THUD

THUD

 

the clock ticks in near silence

i wait

alone...

 

[for those of you who don't know, Haiku is a Japanese poem form consisting of 3 lines.  The first line is 5 syllables, the second is 7, the third line is 5 as well.  While this "form" is not difficult the essense of Haiku is subtlty.  There should be very little adjectives or other "devices" typical in western poem forms, illiteration for example is a no no.   Yet the poem should convey emotion & power or beauty.  I have been studying this form for many decades.]

As a hummingbird
alites upon a willow
twig. So rests my soul

(now my contest.  This Haiku is posted elsewhere on FUBAR.  Find it and send me the link and I'll give you 1/2 of whatever fubucks I have...)

 

And on comes the rain,

Cleansing my windows,

Showing me the world had reawakened

and slipping through my lover's door,

concealed in the dark

Black - clothed in the night but not -

 

loosened from winter's shackles

yet not yet summer, the rain

not cold, feeds what lies in earth

 

- a stranger, I pass without a stumble to my lover's bed

and there she lies asleep

and e'r so gently i slip beside her

 

Like a lover's fingers, the rain caresses, conjoles the earth to life.

And that which the snow once hid responds...

Water and warmth, life -

 

Grows my yearnings, my patience strains to burst free

My lover shudders at my touch... awakens and knows me

Locked together

Beneath the surface the seeds sheds

Our clothes torn away

and drawing upon what the rain will feed it

we touch, we heave, rising and falling we become one, a beast with two backs...

And pushing ever upward

driving ever faster, ever more forcfully, the world falls away

until upon breaking the surface

all at once...

'neath a clap of thunder

it is done!

and all the world...

is rain pattering against the window...

Flit gently before me

Just out of reach

do you know who you are?

 

Oh, my muse, it is to laugh

I watch and wonder

do you notice?

You're a ghost

I'm a phantom,a haunting

do you see?

 

I await each day, for you to speak

I dare not speak first, I could be revealed

do you care?

 

My muse, I shall stay hidden

Building sandcastles for you

until I may do more...

You see... warrior claws & fangs glinting eyes sharpened steel hewn from stone heartless, cruel Stay back, you may see... i am... n o t.

As the sun rose I remained blind in darkness The buds opened And the land stayed painted grey Emabattled, but never to find glory Saltless, a bland and non-timbred life. Oh, that I were Paris ensorcled by Helen's beauty or any dreamer enraptured by their fantasy. For to sit alone in the dull and weary greyness to breath the tasteless air to live a deathless life is to die! a lifeless death...

He squares off against the fire, a blaze which gives no light, dwarfed by the flaming spires, Frozen by the heat of the night... Twisted shape in the mirror Broken body in the race sip you from this cup of sweet terror the mirror it holds his non-face a hand reaches out and is empty cold to comfort and spell the flaming spires of darkness the heart of this personal Hell. So dance while you can wicked gypsies, Bring the whilrling dervish to sweep. Deathpoet's write not for beauty, but for beauty that once bound, now weeps.