Rivers Of Consciousness

Don't worry, be happy. Who knows what may happen?

Archive for the tag “poem”

Demon

demon

I watched you die,
a gnarled contortion of before,
burning eyes raised towards me.
You ensnare my ankles
in skeletal vices
screaming
begging
it was a mistake, honest.
Lakes of magma
have no path to cross,
and taunting flames
lick your festering wounds.
Soul-less windows,
serpentine strangulation.
I do not fear you.
Manipulative greed is your anchor
but light putrefies you,
shredding you into fragments.
You are a shadow,
lurking in the crevices of my mind,
unseen whispers.
I do not fear you.
I watched you die.

 

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A late-night, darker experimental piece. Flexing poetic muscles, I suppose 🙂

Image from:
http://www.countryside-anarchist.co.uk/images/demon.jpg

Queen

More prose poetry that I submitted for assessment at Uni, with a little more focus on character this time 😀

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Image

The people complement my chains, awe in their eyes and rounded mouths. Such divine jewels draped along her throat, they whisper. Cliff-edge collarbones descending into diamonds. They don’t know these chains are my shackles. I wish my throne would devour me. It would absorb me, cavernous, casting me down between wise oak columns to fade amongst the moss. There I could lay, canopied by broad leaves with Orion as my guardian. Oh, how I love the dawn, but it has been so long since our last encounter. My palace is my prison, my king my captor. The chains snake through my hair, dripping past my ears, ensnaring my wrists. A festival delights outside my door, but I cannot add mine to the high spirits. My presence would silence, a syringe draining their pulsing electricity. I would be watched by wide eyes, studying my every move as I shimmered through the street.

As children, there was no I and Them. It was We and Us, brave hunters of the forest prowling the thickets for wolves. Adorned in feathers and tough old boots, we’d yell war cries at the Battle of the Little Bighorn, charging across pastures with cardboard weaponry. We were emperors of the tree house fortress, defending our territory defiantly from our rival neighbours. We leant on the hands of time, so keen to pass through the gates of Adulthood. We were carefree and careless. Little did we know that those gates would slam behind us. I soared with my prince to the other side of a sunset, in a tale they sing their daughters at night. But my golden tower doesn’t shine on the inside. A thousand green eyes cannot replace the emerald foliage I crave.

My pedestal leaves me out of reach from those people. Disconnected, and, disjointed. Alone.

Image

 

Image sources:
Crown – http://diamondjubilee.hellomagazine.com/imagenes/queens-jubilee/news/201206291103/queen-elizabeth-diamonds-display-buckingham/0-6-58/queen-diamonds3–a.jpg

Castle – http://images.fineartamerica.com/images-medium-large/golden-castle-in-spain-rianna-stackhouse.jpg

Not Yet

Another attempt at Prose Poetry, one which is definitely going in my final assignment. I hope I’m getting this prose poetry stuff right, because it’s so much harder than I expected! Enjoy, let me know what you think 😀

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hands

Your name rolls across my tongue to meet the barricade of my teeth, crushing impulse with sense. A shimmer in the eye distracts from my deep nasal exhale and you stare, brows twitching with an air of concern that gives you away. But hush, hush. You leave a finger print on Cupid’s Bow, as only you could. The bow is taut, poised for passion or perhaps pain.

My pride is turned away from your gaze and I narrow my eyes to the spinning letters dancing on the departure board. My tears pour back up their estuary to their humble spring, a spring bubbling from nerves and synapses. Your nose nudges the curve of my neck and sighs. I can feel your palm, warm against the dip of my spine while the other traces my shoulder blades. I have never felt more complete than while here in your grasp.

Pressed together, encircled in your aura. Your breath tickles the delicate twists of my ear as you whisper; This is not the end, not yet. You have buried into my flesh, impossible to extract. Your absence wounds me, soothed only by your voice. A single tear is the downfall of this mask, dissolving it until all that remains in my hands is the solution. Not long, not far. We’ll make it. Forehead to forehead, your pupils fling the curtains wide and search my eyes. Dawn cracks with the first rays of a smile and somehow, I believe you now.

 

 

 

 

Image source:
http://data.whicdn.com/images/22641031/scaled_thumb.php

Shielded From Snow

SnowCouple5

In a city tunnel, shielded from snow
Your lips sealed the terms, so now you are mine.
I am never going to let you go.

Your nervous laugh, shy smile, they let me know
That fear will not crush. Yeah, we’ll be just fine
In that city tunnel, shielded from snow.

Your roots anchor me, so now we can grow
United, unbroken, fingers entwined.
I am never going to let you go.

My chilled bones accept your welcoming glow,
My winter’s frost shattered by eyes that shine
In a city tunnel, shielded from snow.

Sincere expressions, it’s not just for show
You now break the boundaries I designed,
So I’m never going to let you go.

The bear’s courage, gentle grace of the doe –
Steady hands guiding me through troubled times,
In a city tunnel, shielded from snow.
I am never going to let you go.

 

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A villanelle from December which I submitted for assessment, I’m pleased with the result I got 🙂

Image source:
[http://i288.photobucket.com/albums/ll165/TheHomelessPoet/Love%20Pictures/SnowCouple5.jpg]

Together Again

old couple

I smile at you now as I always have,
cheeks pinched by nature’s fingernails.
Your eyes don’t see me well anymore,
but somehow, somehow you know I’m still there.
My lungs’ vapour squeezes through my parted lips,
spinning fluidly into an arabesque and then,
gone.
Invisible to the eye, yet mingled with the oxygen
pumped to you by life-saving devices that have never lived.

I am haloed by an amber glow.
It’s a warm palette against my iced skin,
tinting me the shades of the old oak tree by the river,
when it would erupt a last-ditch attempt at radiance
with blazed leaves, fading out with a flourish
to reveal the charcoal skeleton beneath.
Your frail fingers caress my face, knuckles bulbous
like the gnarled branches from that winter walk.

Our children are talking, chattering, babbling;
trying to stamp the silences that seep slowly
through you into the room’s monotony.
They know, though they will never say.
They see me too, clasped in your hand, obscured by your tag.
Sympathetic smiles and a bittersweet kiss signal the goodbye,
tears gathered in the hollows of a throat, choking them and you.
Don’t cry darling, it won’t be long now.

One click, as resonant as a gunshot and yet,
more dignified.
My arms are open wide: I’ve waited a decade for you.

 

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Part of the collection I’m submitting for assessment.

Image source:
[http://mw2.google.com/mw-panoramio/photos/medium/5911072.jpg]
Edited by me.

Someday


There’s softly whispered rain on blanket grey,
And hinted forgiveness which you must try.
I told you I’ll be back for you someday.

Hold tight your hands and bow your head to pray.
When your eyes open you will see blue sky,
Not softly whispered rain on blanket grey.

Do not forget and so do not delay.
Who said sinners can only speak a lie?
I told you I’ll be back for you someday.

Don’t let your head give in or heart betray.
The wise worship sunlight but won’t deny
the softly whispered rain on blanket grey.

Finer flowers have fallen to decay,
the bittersweet memory of last July,
I told you I’ll be back for you someday.

You don’t believe me, as much as you say,
Turning cheeks again from your blinded eye.
In softly whispered rain on blanket grey,
I promised I’ll be back for you some day.

 

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My first ever attempt at a Villanelle.
I’m not sure what to think. Maybe I concentrated too much on the structure and not enough on content.
Was fun to play around with though 😀

 

Image source:
[http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_VFo8jjLjYYU/S8rQxThTENI/AAAAAAAAAY0/WQXkPHRldCw/s1600/alone-in-rain.jpg]

Waiting by the Water

Winter is here and I’m still waiting there,
Teardrops falling down my face,
Cause I remember when we used to sit
Pleading to mankind.
You wouldn’t have to ask me,
But there is one question.
Is every little thing gonna be alright?
I’m still waiting.

In life I know there’s a lot of grief,
But I am happy inside, all of the time.
And now I’m by the still water,
And you’ll come with your heart and soul.
That’s all I want from you.
To me, it makes a lot of sense, and
you’ll satisfy my soul.

Life is one big road with lots of signs,
But my feet are my only carriage
In the valley of decision.
But who the heck do I think I am?
Let me tell you what I know now:
I know you’re out there somewhere.

 

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A challenge I set myself, inspired by a friend  – creating a poem out of song lyrics.
(See my friend’s piece here , it’s very good)

All of these are Bob Marley song lyrics (some with the Wailers too of course) from the following list, directly taken or adapted for my own purpose.
I’ve included links to Youtube videos of the songs for those who want to jam out 😀

Waiting in Vain
I’m Still Waiting
One Love
Buffalo Soldier
No Woman No Cry
Misty Morning
All in One
Satisfy My Soul
Cry To Me
Punky Reggae Party
Three Little Birds
Want More
Wake Up and Live

I think that’s all the ones I used, apologies if I missed any… enjoy 😀

 

Reflection

Who are you?
Your hair is loose and light while mine is fire,
The vixen’s bushy tail twisted around my waist.
Your face is open, young, pure as cotton,
While mine is wary beneath the war paint.
You sing and twirl and ruffle feathers,
While I stand stern. Unmoved.
Hackles raised.

Your sides are stuffed with luxurious love,
While mine are the keys to Lucifers’ lament,
The taunting lure of others’ temptation.
I am encased in wire and lace,
Satin thread woven to keep me in place.
Their eyes scan my silhouette, lingering,
lustful,
But, respectfully, never for you.

Your features are familiar, but what is your name?
Cherubs envy you, and in turn stab my back.
My podium, my pedestal is too high to grasp,
I’ll fall with a gasp while you can fool in the grass.
I used to contain your childish laugh, but now,
I play prey to salacious hunters of the night,
my heels burning. But you, you are safe;
Life’s wheel turning has not tainted you yet.

I am enemy to my body, as it is to me,
But it remembers being ripe with youth,
it remembers the light hair, deluxe care,
the serene virtue that you have.
We have met before, haven’t we child?
In some far distant land of pasts and promises.
For the closer I look the more it is true,
Your eyes have I, mine too have You.

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Experimental poetry piece for Uni, based on playing with a ‘you’ persona

Image source:
[http://weheartit.com/entry/43346956#]

Redemption

Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned,
And no rage may vanquish yours.
Your eye sees all,
Knows all,
Ends all.

At your feet we bow and caress with guilt,
Quarry to your lethal spears.
Weeping, we kneel,
Merciless,
Merciful.

Your splattered tears burn our faces,
While your smile scalds us harshly.
Divided we stand,
United
We fall.

You have been betrayed, dearest Mother,
Your stewards have failed you.
Naivety,
No excuse for
Futile pleas.

Exonerate those who dissatisfy you,
Or be bound to their shackles.
Cleanse us,
Save us,
I beg.

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I am by no means a poet, but we have moved on to this form in our course now and I’m interested to see where it takes me.
This weeks writing task we simply had to write a poem, trying to be aware of sounds and imagery, and if possible use an extended simile.

I’m quite pleased with the result 🙂

The Citadel

In my first week, my tutor asked us to write about Plymouth, in a task separate from the rest of my course. Here is my contribution 🙂

The citadel rises high against the horizon,
Surveying the waves below, the sea a slumbering child,
At peace with a dreamy smile, a reminder,
Of plain sailing and summer laughter.
The breeze whispers against the limestone walls,
As they peer down on the picture of innocence.

But these walls shield a wealth of wisdom,
And they are not fooled.
The townspeople are charmed by the child,
Doting on their little cherub,
But the fortress is expecting the inevitable.
The sky darkens, and the breeze is pushed aside,
By racing winds who taunt and tease the sea,
Distorting the peaceful child into a turbulent adolescent.

Consumed in darkness, angst bubbling violently on the surface,
The waves stand and turn on the citadel,
Fists raised against the protector of the people.
Dominance is the game, a war waged between nature and construction.
The juvenile unleashes fury, the echo of lost battles and sailor boys ringing out,
The desolation of shipwrecks and skeletons, too.
400 years of attack, destruction and bloodshed do not rest well on these waters.

The fortress holds it’s ground, resolute against such aggression.
It grits its teeth, withstanding the screams of the sea’s claimed victims,
Resisting the old wounds which open, ignoring the guilt,
For everyone knows that not every life will be salvaged,
Nor every ship returned.

Image source
[http://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/7/70/The_Citadel,_Plymouth,_England.jpg]

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