A poem

Brothers of Briar

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Sorry, another poem, can't really help myself here,

Of such a tired man, of such a tired life, of never-ending longing, quiet brain please let me rest in peace, let me stand still once and let at once all be forgotten, let me live my life as it is deemed for lives to be led, leave me to embrace those sweet, sweet, joys that fill the air, those autumnal melodies, those lines of wind, darting from the front, from the back, the lasting notes of the perishing leaf, the brown that drapes the pavements and that litters park in kind.
I linger on in memory, I linger on in form, I try to suppress both of me, both are haggard now and worn.
I can’t resist the temptation of throwing myself in, of bending my back to deep, deep, despair, give me life! Give it to me! I can’t take it on my own, I can’t seem to shake the misery of everything I’ve known.

My life has been a melody, it longs now so to rest, to drop corporeality and embrace existence blessed.
 
Sorry guys another one, lol going through a bit of a bad time at the moment, writing is quite cathartic

When the river of life bends your way and nourishes the roots on your bank
Leave off the wheat sheef and sickle and remember the water to thank
For we channel it, when crafting, when labouring night and day
Some of us we work in dreams, when rules are far away

I thank the water daily, it nourishes my life, I cannot live without it, I daren't draw from what is dry,
I merely let it flow from hand to hand, from pit to pit whilst being nourished through my eye

Let it flow ever on in me for I cannot stand to dwell, that which would become of me were I to live without a well
 
PipedJimmy,

I enjoy your writings, and passion, I too find solace in putting my deeply nursed thoughts and sufferings on paper.

Water seems to be such a universal element to the poetically inclined.

I offer this not as an original work of mine, but that of a lifetime favorite, who in his short life encompassed such a deep understanding of the human condition that I hold his works in almost the same esteem as I do The Holy Bible:

Joy and Sorrow

Then a woman said, "Speak to us of Joy and Sorrow."
And he answered:
Your joy is your sorrow unmasked.
And the selfsame well from which your laughter rises was oftentimes filled with your tears.
And how else can it be?
The deeper that sorrow carves into your being, the more joy you can contain.
Is not the cup that hold your wine the very cup that was burned in the potter's oven?
And is not the lute that soothes your spirit, the very wood that was hollowed with knives?
When you are joyous, look deep into your heart and you shall find it is only that which has given you sorrow that is giving you joy.
When you are sorrowful look again in your heart, and you shall see that in truth you are weeping for that which has been your delight.
Some of you say, "Joy is greater than sorrow," and others say, "Nay, sorrow is the greater."
But I say unto you, they are inseparable.
Together they come, and when one sits alone with you at your board, remember that the other is asleep upon your bed.
Verily you are suspended like scales between your sorrow and your joy.
Only when you are empty are you at standstill and balanced.
When the treasure-keeper lifts you to weigh his gold and his silver, needs must your joy or your sorrow rise or fall.

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From: The Prophet, by Khalil Gibran

The Prophet

A more complete listing
 
For a daily dose of good poetry go to www.writersalmanac.publicradio.org/

I find it is a good way to start the day.
 
That's absolutely beautiful Kilted, really does capture the essence of the human condition as you said. Thank you Centurion for the link, will have to check that out soon and thank you also for the kind words.
 
Prune the bush, that rose that fell, my heart it took with it, the soft ground has it now, use it well friend, use it well, I cannot bear to use it anymore
 
Hey Kilted, thought you might like this,

New feet within my garden go-
New fingers stir the sod
A troubadour upon the elm
Betrays the solitude.

New children play upon the green-
New weary sleep below,
And still the pensive spring returns,
And still the punctual snow.

Emily Dickinson

What I read as a very touching and melancholic poem from one of your master wordsmiths
 
Yet more drivel lol sorry guys, but I enjoyed writing this one

Let it slide away from me, a branch that splintered from the tree into the broken wind
The leaves green with life, are speckled along its sprawled fingers grey
Let it slip away and fall to the ground, and nourish the soft brown earth
Life lives on though death's gone past
Let sorrow ring but do not let it last.
 
Here I sit, boredom ruling my mind, it spreads its wide webby fingers to the furthest corners of my brain and settles in for the winter.
It is a dull cave clothed in grey, awaiting the morn
Here I sit, with heart ruled in kind, it is a lonely thought, hope leads me to believe it will end soon.
 
Here I sit, boredom ruling my mind, it spreads its wide webby fingers to the furthest corners of my brain and settles in for the winter.
It is a dull cave clothed in grey, awaiting the morn
Here I sit, with heart ruled in kind, it is a lonely thought, hope leads me to believe it will end soon.
 
I wanted to say I love you like the words were in my hand, like they roamed forward of their own accord and flooded Empirical Land. Like they grew limbs and lives of their own and basked in front of you, and let me stay forevermore in this reverie I wish was true
Love they say is the best of three and in one it is the best of all, from lingering round those loved ones, that feel it from one foot tall
and all they do is wish to be loved and linger on in such, believing this is the stuff of life and never sated enough
but we all know that love is true and only truth brings us to tears, for it does linger all about us, giving golden edges to our fears
Be lucky enough to find some one, who feels the same as you? Does that make it love for real? As though its the only love that'll do?
Just let me feel it in my heart and don't hold the feelings back, it floods my brain like nothing else, as if it were the only thing it lacked. Through this written medium, I give my life in song, but its all come out as glpyhs and text, text that can be written, wrong.
But where is truth when you feel like this if the words of truth are not in hand? It lies in the only truth of which truth exists in that idealistic land, so where are you empirically and can you for sooth be sought? Or do you only linger in me, linger on as lonely thought?
In any case the impetus that brought me here, started when I conversed with you, and let this feeling linger on, though it may not be true.
 
In the hope that you lads'll like this!


Ready! Aim! FIRE! Then kick your dead aside! and move ever forward for the nation's solemn pride! Keep those muskets roaring! as we fight towards the glade, over the brambled thicket and over men we've slayed, then shoot the men on horses and from beast's backs they'll fall, and join the other rankers to swell the harpie's thrawl, then stand before their general with promised peace in hand, guaranteed with blood that's reddened peaceful land
All of this we fought for, I led you lads didn't I? So follow me now a sinner as I pray for those that die.
 
PipedJimmy":r8hsfaom said:
I sit here, a lonely, lonely, room, trapped, encased, encapsulated, longing for freedom, it comes,
Be it black glyph that frees my mind, or gentle tap tap on white keys, the pain recedes
It drifts off on a memory, a soft, quiet, breeze, thought that dissolves into mist, like an old treasured time
Not quite remembered, not quite forgotten, how I feel at present, what a sweet, sweet, sentiment.
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These are beautiful. It took me awhile to find them, but I'm glad I did. Thanks for posting.
 
well brother, you can have two for the price of one : )


One and the same (31&32)

I faltered and I loved it, a passion flamed in me, so that all I could see was fire, a flaming totality, my eyes they roved with pleasure from sight to wicked sight, and my libidinous side did tingle, with carnal laced delight. I flickered for a moment, towards the soulful side, though I dismissed it in an instant, knowing why I’d lied, back to the search to feed, and feed till fed no more, then take a breath and become disordered, and darker than before. I truly loath this place, this filthy pit of sin, but I cannot find strength to stop now, though I swore I’d not begin, I'll take that lie and I’ll keep it, a solid golden key, that keeps me in light of innocence, guilty though I be.
A voice continued to whisper, but I turned my head aside,
'Come saint, save a sinner who has faltered in his stride
He walks now, on a path, all clogged with thorn and weed
and though at times his heart doth shine, his soul’s in dire need
So come saint, save a sinner, from his cesspool full of sin
Give him strength to be strong again, give him strength now to begin




In love we stand united, sitting hand in hand, in hope of earthly consecration, of a single solid band, that our hearts might grow together and to borrow, become entwined, and that you and I might share, one happy, heightened mind. I love you my girl, I love you, just hold me dear to you, and I shall bath once daily in this well which springs anew, kiss me, dare to kiss me and I, my lips will give, to you dear girl forever, or as long as I shall live
 
The first, I read with a smile. I know that place, and your words do it more than justice. The second I find more complicated, a little scarier, but welcome, nonetheless. It's just easier to be weak, I guess. Thank you!
 
Ah you're welcome mate, thank you for your very kind words and I like the fact that it stirs something in you. This one I wrote tonight, a little different I suppose

I seek it with my mind's eye, knowing that somewhere hidden in the damp grey mist lurks the black door. My focus sharpens, from the empty space behind me emanates a shrill childish whimper. Adrenaline tears through the silent wonder as my vision distinguishes sharp edges from the monotonous swirling mass. I dare to extend my arm, my limb for borrowing, both lifeless and flat and with mounting trepidation, I use it to caress the door’s smooth bevelled edges. The whimper had brought me back for a moment, to the light of reason, and yet it did not posses the strength to dismiss the urges of my undertaking. Slowly I part one wooden panel from its brother, and that familiar dull light filters through, I look warily through the crack, and then for the thousandth time I restore the door back to its original position taking one step backwards and believing that I am better man for doing so, my eye then thunders back to reality, to sit shaking surrounded in this black chair, and whole again I whimper like the frightened child of my dreams
 
PipedJimmy":ibvg4d0u said:
Ah you're welcome mate, thank you for your very kind words and I like the fact that it stirs something in you. This one I wrote tonight, a little different I suppose

I seek it with my mind's eye, knowing that somewhere hidden in the damp grey mist lurks the black door. My focus sharpens, from the empty space behind me emanates a shrill childish whimper. Adrenaline tears through the silent wonder as my vision distinguishes sharp edges from the monotonous swirling mass. I dare to extend my arm, my limb for borrowing, both lifeless and flat and with mounting trepidation, I use it to caress the door’s smooth bevelled edges. The whimper had brought me back for a moment, to the light of reason, and yet it did not posses the strength to dismiss the urges of my undertaking. Slowly I part one wooden panel from its brother, and that familiar dull light filters through, I look warily through the crack, and then for the thousandth time I restore the door back to its original position taking one step backwards and believing that I am better man for doing so, my eye then thunders back to reality, to sit shaking surrounded in this black chair, and whole again I whimper like the frightened child of my dreams
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I'm a long time reader of H.P. Lovecraft, and this reminds me of him, in a very good way. Thank you again, excellent stuff!
 
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