Post by Pseudomuse on Feb 20, 2006 22:40:30 GMT -8
w00t to the HIZ-OOT I am on a poetic roll...okay maybe not... This is another first draft poem... I am not sure on the sixth stanza some of it seems rather ackward. I am also not sure on the capitalizations of some of the proper nouns...
hugs PM
heliographs
charade shafts
passing ignorance of
what the dark left
silver tongued limpet lids
of a dying culture
rooted in sand
don’t leave me here
among the sun
and the sand
and all the treasure
howard could not carry
elpis would not weep
on my grave with his lilies
not like you
not like you
death’s sombre beginnings
but always element
or so Will will argue
in lines poised on the tip
of his quill from
othello-smothering-pillows
to claudius-corrupt-cups
familiarity breeds contempt
and deceit, only in time
what with such whisperings
from between the cracks
it was not for us, no?
to go this way, this road
full of dead fish and fire wheels
just don’t leave me here
jealously may have infected
our pricked fingers
but green is both
the green-eyed monster
and that of pride
and you are not in want
to believe in monsters as
you’ve felled all imposters
and found only
smoke-screen
the shafts of light
hit the silver tin
drawing the eye of horus
in the sky above
eyes are filled with so many
emotions, one has trouble
putting a name to them
they say love conquers all
even in death
but they never met us
or they’d understand
the depth of true feeling
is never just something[/b]
it encompasses all
everything is
just that more vivid
and more thrill excitement
than just simple discourse
one does not just love
‘just love’ is ignorant
of worldly lip smackings
and character depth
fire and light
go hand in hand
except in these tunnels
where Ra is god
of the eyes ability
for detection
but that does not mean
darkness is not just as
illuminating
my pretty Iago
hate is such a plain word
pick something else.
[/center]
hugs PM
heliographs
charade shafts
passing ignorance of
what the dark left
silver tongued limpet lids
of a dying culture
rooted in sand
don’t leave me here
among the sun
and the sand
and all the treasure
howard could not carry
elpis would not weep
on my grave with his lilies
not like you
not like you
death’s sombre beginnings
but always element
or so Will will argue
in lines poised on the tip
of his quill from
othello-smothering-pillows
to claudius-corrupt-cups
familiarity breeds contempt
and deceit, only in time
what with such whisperings
from between the cracks
it was not for us, no?
to go this way, this road
full of dead fish and fire wheels
just don’t leave me here
jealously may have infected
our pricked fingers
but green is both
the green-eyed monster
and that of pride
and you are not in want
to believe in monsters as
you’ve felled all imposters
and found only
smoke-screen
the shafts of light
hit the silver tin
drawing the eye of horus
in the sky above
eyes are filled with so many
emotions, one has trouble
putting a name to them
they say love conquers all
even in death
but they never met us
or they’d understand
the depth of true feeling
is never just something
it encompasses all
everything is
just that more vivid
and more thrill excitement
than just simple discourse
one does not just love
‘just love’ is ignorant
of worldly lip smackings
and character depth
fire and light
go hand in hand
except in these tunnels
where Ra is god
of the eyes ability
for detection
but that does not mean
darkness is not just as
illuminating
my pretty Iago
hate is such a plain word
pick something else.
[/center]