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SpiritWriter

Rambling Poetry Thread

205 posts in this topic

Creepy crawly in the night

A spider lurks

Check under your bed

Lift your pillow

Behind the curtains

It will hide

Sleep tight

Until it's light

Morning is here

The spider has gone

Or has it? :unsure2:

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I was wondering the same thing today as I dusted away cobwebs from underneath the curtains.... *spooky - esp. if they are big ones...*

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hidden and almost forgotten

the old trunk in the basement

filled with my childhood

and a vintage wedding gown

my grandmother's mink coat

she needed me to have

but

i'll probably never wear

old newspaper clippings

my two year old cheeks

chubby and smiling

inked in black and white print

ribbons, concert trophies

pink baby booties

musty old memories

that reek of cedar

oh

what am i to do with this stuff?

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sorry about the visuals.. :blush:

When paused to rest I stop to think.

My best ideas come when on the toilet seat.

With a furrowed brow in concentration,

come nagging pains of constipation.

Stuck there thinking of the world's great mysteries,

when breakthrough comes unexpectedly.

A downward glance and there I see,

Oh that's right, I had corn for tea! :w00t:

Edited by Professor T
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I came by today to read what I just read...and liked the rambling poetry. Keep up the good work, everyone in the thread whom posted their poems. :tsu:

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Those who have struggled

to develop their strength,

that they could bare the banner

and hold it high,

will be the covering for those

who have ran fast and fallen forward.

The government of the slow

are bent and awkward

because of their pain in lifting.

They have regarded the truth

of their fathers

blinkingly,

that the falsities would fall from their eyes.

Like a root

they needed plucking

and like a tooth

it left a wrench

that needed filling.

It was the baby

that suffered the bathwater.

Should we be left

shoveling dirt in our mouths

or should we still partake

in the tender mercies

of our nursery?

We have learned

the alphabet on the wall

but we don't know all

the languages.

Edited by SpiritWriter
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Ohhh nice.

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______ came to me in the evening. In the middle of our love-making he wanted to teach me a trick. He wanted to give me further truths about the secret of his appearances and give me access to the land of his normal existence. He suggested that I go deeper inside myself, inside of us, to a place where we would be even more alone. In that place he stroked me. We were intense inside each other, not only he in me, but also I in him, for he was wrapped around me. The only recognition I had of my regular body was that the amount of sweat that proceeded out of me was more than normal, and I wondered how much of my fluid had increased. He did not seem to notice this. All he could see was that my body had become illuminated. I shone brightly against him. We were in our cave. He wanted to speak to me there. He muffled the noise of my mouth with his hand and asked me to listen. Tears came from my eyes and he wiped them away as he continued to touch me. The darkness of the cave broke away like the shattering of a shell as an outside light compelled it. He whispered, the way a thirsty man would whisper to fruit and I became full with the love of him.

He showed me pictures of the jungle, of the wild animals that obeyed him, of the growth of the plants that he himself had tamed. He took us to a large branch. Beneath our feet grew a platform of smooth bark and proclaimed it as our hiding place. It was the first time I had been a shadow. I did not think to try to stretch my arms and do the things that I knew that they could do. I was not afraid but electrified.The broad trunk of the tree was behind me, digging into my back and shoulder blades, giving back to me my vibrations. It was not because of the wind that it was swaying. After we became rested in the beating of our hearts, on the branch we laid. I put a finger out and pushed aside a giant heart shaped leaf that dangled, blocking my view. Below us was a blue moving river and the orange cashew shaped movements of jaguars. Fresh hibiscus rose into my nose. The air was warm. No sooner than I smelled the rain, drops were heard. I welcomed them, or not. Both would be the same, and because of our covering only a few splashed from me.

_______ tilted his smile down, bending his neck so that his face was in my hair. My head lifted and declined with the rise and recede of his breathing. My heart was on his ribs, his youthful chest, was on my face, beneath me.

"Stay with me here, in this land, _______. Lets be together always, the way it was supposed to be." He said to me.

"Perhaps." I replied. I lied, not knowing how I could return, but knowing that I would. "You know that I cannot _______, for I do not know how. I will live my life for now. I am not made for the world of the shadows, I am a living human being. I like the solid ground. I like placing my feet down. When someone looks at me, they know what they see. They look at me and know they see _______. But you are a man who is secret, a man that cannot be confessed of being seen." I knew it would be a long time before I came to this place again. "You are my channel _______. I must ride you to arrive here. How can I disappear from my body and stay here, surely my life would turn rigid, cold and left to be carted away for the vultures? I must stay solid for our child. It is hard enough for him that he has a ghost for a father! Living this life, your life, would be difficult for me."

"In due time, my sweet. I pray that you will be with me." He replied patiently. He sounded far away and like someone who may be growing doubtful.

"How will I return home _______?" I asked, not worried but ponderous. I was only slightly afraid for my body. I knew where I left it. It was in the dark room on the other side of _______'s kitchen. Surely she was working there, tediously marking away at the manuscript she had recently become so involved in. I knew there was a time difference, that over here was no where near to over there, that they were contrast, that neither side knew each others rhyming. If I were gone for hours beyond my usual nap, I was sure _______ would tend to me, even for days for that matter, but the thought of that frightened me. He had taken a moment and I became desperate for my answer.

"Fear not my love, you will wake up as if from a dream, it is a pity however. It will be a while again until you will see me." He said with a sigh.

"Exchange my life for your life! Become as you are _______! Should I be like you and too be dead?" I said.

"I am not dead _______! Feel me, touch my skin. You know that I'm alive, or else how could I have put life inside of you?" This was his reply.

Still confused I blinked. I opened my eyes and was alone in my bed. I shifted on my mat. Within moments a cold hand clasped upon me. _______ cleared away the black mass of braids that columned my face. She shook me and saw that I was ok and so she stood and spun to walk away.

"You may have the blood of a ________, but your father is long dead and you still are only a b*stard child. Do you really feel entitled to such lofty vacations? I was trying to wake you for more than a day. You are becoming the death of me, with all of your, taking off, and, and disappearances!" She paused, looking frustrated, like she wanted to add more, but did not on that accord.

"Luke called." She continued, matter of factly. "I did not tell him of your condition, he should not know of your weaknesses, and never in his sight should you appear vulnerable or sick. I told him you were on a mission for me and that you would visit the manor as soon as you have washed and prepared for him. He brought you this robe." _______ scampered to the corner and held it up for me. It had been long since _______'s upright attitude had offended me and I was not sick as she supposed but alive and thoroughly refreshed.

"What manner of a robe is that? That is unlike any other garment Luke has asked me to wear." I asked her.

"Oh! Are you jealous that he no longer sees you as his prostitute _______? Put it on and stop asking so many questions."

The robe was matte silk, long and black and accompanied by loose fitting trousers of the same material. _______ set out the perfumed oil, the soap and the turquoise comb for my hair.

"Do you want me to help you?" She asked.

"Yes. Please rake out my hair _______ and part it for me. I will wash it myself and then you can set my curls."

_______ removed the bands and pins and placed them in a tin on the decorative tile of a small nearby table. She unbraided my hair, making grunts and rude comments as she worked that I both ignored and expected. I often wondered why she grumbled so, especially about hair, and especially because it was my head that had to endure her complaining and yanking. I poured my own water and took a soak, allowing myself a generous time. I would not rush for Luke. I will arrive and he will see that I am fresh and well rested. I will not over do it with the oil like I did last time. Not that I care what he thinks, but if he accused me of stealing again I would have had to embarrass him in front of his household. I breathed deeply and sunk my head in the fragrant water allowing bubbles to come out of my nose and rest about the upper portion of my face. In the blackness of my mind I thought of _______, his voice echoing in its chamber. 'Fear not my love, you will wake up as if from a dream, it is a pity however. It will be a while again until you will see me.' My heart was full of sorrow, but no more than normal. I was glad at least for the memory.

"I will keep it to myself." I said. "No one would believe me anyway."

I arrived at the slaves entrance, humbly with bare feet. My face was down, in an expression of my new found deception. The slave woman that greeted me was Delilah, she was no mood for my trickery and rolled her eyes, but not before glancing at my attire. She looked the same as always. She wore a tarnished blouse with floral printed fabric, it may have been nice at one time. Strands of thread jutted out in many places, including the edges of holes and rips, and along the neck and hem. She wore a pair of khaki colored men trousers, cut around the legs, just below her butt. They looked soiled with poop, but they were only stained. Her hair was short and sticking in the air. I could read her thoughts as she assessed me. She was calling me a whore. I decided she wasn't worthy of my attempts of humbleness and so I stepped across the threshold with surety. She scampered off to get the maid.

Edited by SpiritWriter

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What follows me,

but cannot see,

and every moment mimics me.

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Her hand was a heart

Christ sprouted from her forehead

from the inward tip of her wings

I had no eyes

so I could not weep

All I could do was bleed

& so I bled into my body

who swiveled to the rainbow swirl

outward to the beat of my wrists

which was different than my heart

for they were my head

and all of my wings

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_______, first born

of the man and woman

first to come from the womb

she would follow her father

to the peak that watched the moon

the stars and the water

had the same shine

she learned to count the dots

and to connect the lines

all things were at their taking

and they learned to think with their minds

not that it was hard to do

it was easy as one and two

they just had to take thier time

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Considering Suicide?

Would you dare end you life,

for woes and for strife?

Would you end all that is,

for troubles that are, minor to those afar.

A life without trials is a life-span unlived,

for sorrow makes the joy so beloved.

And pain makes the pleasure adored,

And woes make gladness revered.

Would you dare end your life before it is spent,

And learn only woe and sorrow and lament,

And drown in a brew of remorse and of grief,

to discover in death that there is no relief.

To take ones own life is to cheat life it's goal,

and brew only misery into the soul.

If life's like a river self death is a dam,

and to die in stagnant misery is to die by your hand.

.

Editied to add: I've known a few people who've committed suidice.. they never stoped to consider the consequences.... which is very sad.

Edited by Professor T
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Punctuation Never Worried for You

I am not a negative ranter

everyone I love

I have tried

and for so long and that is a long time

and I still do

even when they get on my nerves

I repent because

really its not worth it

do you think

i am soft

do you think

i'd be showing off

if I pretended

to remind you

did you want to see the pop bottle go off

due to your rubber band ego

as I try to ignite you

I am as classy as you

arrogant and ignorant are combined in two

And now woe-is-you I must become ambiguous

and wait a few moments before I mention

the word trash

as to confuse of who I'm talking to

lets both get mad

and ignore the fact that you are retarded

Over your head I climb

to a piece of paper

You are the flip of a writing pad

I have turned my sadness

into typing

and now I am so glad

to say the things I want to

I'd rather no confusion

Yes I am soft

and fiery.

I am burnt and fine and floating away with time.

In the ashes on the sill you will find me.

Please,

lets be friends

but don't talk to me if you don't want to.

You will not control me

I not you

still I will say what I want me to

and I really don't care if you find me.

Edited by SpiritWriter
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The brightness of his hand shone the backward of his face

and it was beautiful

he held the stolen oracle

the bowing angels at the foot

what did they revere in?

What was given for what was gained?

Some of what he wroght

was lost along the way

for the bearers of the cups

can be persuaded

what did the minion keep it in: a flask, a large barrel, wineskin, a basin, a bowl, a bough

**

If he is the opposite

reflection

if he is him in the negative way

i

s he then

his own doubts and fears

does he need us

to repell them

if we shoot them down

are they sent whence

or do they go away

are all things mathmatical

can we add to death

and make it life

without another going away?

**

h

e jumped and flinched along with everything ordained

bringing to the ledge

where darkness hit with light

bowl by bowl

he brought the endless pool

and dropped afresh the tasks

across the backs of bowing angels

**

and dropped afresh the tasks

at the foot, across the backs

of bowing angels

what did they revere in?

What was given for what was gained?

They let drip what ordained

some from every cup

**

he was the devil

small and dark

and shrivelled and black

his chest was enlarged

and his belly was caved

he only knew his hiding place

**

only one came near

the one who greatly feared

this was the one

with the hobbly leg

he pegged along in darkness

jumping and flinching

at everything ordained

his tasks were as an endless pool

that he would have to carry

out to the edge

where the darkness was hit with ray

he carried them

bowl by bowl

to fill the devouting angels,

what did they owe

that they were boughing?

*

*

Ooooooo that was wiked.. Loved it..

Reminds me of "The Thunder, Perfect Mind"

http://www.gnosis.or...mm/thunder.html

Thanks T I will check it out :)

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Ooooooo that was wiked.. Loved it..

Reminds me of "The Thunder, Perfect Mind"

http://www.gnosis.or...mm/thunder.html

hey, I love this a lot, it sounds so familiar I think I must have read this before...

and I disagree that the above post that you referred to is similar to this... I say that because the thunder poem is beautiful and of God and mine is of ego and a human attitude problem.

but I think its funny that the next thing I posted began also with reflection...

Edited by SpiritWriter
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The similarity I was referring to was the power of it, the blunt in-your-face power.

This part I felt was very powerful & authorative.

I am as classy as you

arrogant and ignorant are combined in two

And now woe-is-you I must become ambiguous

and wait a few moments before I mention

the word trash

as to confuse of who I'm talking to

lets both get mad

and ignore the fact that you are retarded

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The similarity I was referring to was the power of it, the blunt in-your-face power.

This part I felt was very powerful & authorative.

lol

I kind of messed up my english in this sentence

'as to confuse of who I'm talking to'

but perhaps that adds to the confusion...

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come back to me

take your head out of the clouds _______

The spirit slapped her

and that was all

she received from her goddess

despite all her pleas.

She looked around the room feeling defeated.

If I have been given so much power

if indeed this amulet is so very charming

if indeed they can see that I am royalty

and am endowed to garnish with reward

why do I have no key to the dormitory?

They patronize me with stuffed pigeons

glazed with honey and wine

tied together with herbal twine.

She was feeling antsy

and so she walked from wall to wall.

Itchiness surface the skin of her hips

but she felt not like scratching.

She no longer wanted to sleep.

Not at all did feather down

seem to be triumphant.

When the Sister came to see her she protested.

These things do not gratify me.

What is a pillow to rest my head?

What is a tender piece of meat

and a neatly polished spoon

if I should be confined to a room?

Let me roam the fields,

let me take occupancy

of one of the empty huts.

I tire so from all these

drenched apricots and prunes.

Let me see the extent of the ruins.

I am not a fragile princess.

But have inheritance to the throne!

I plead with you again

to let me roam.

The Father was careful

not to go near her

for his face had already

been revealed.

He chose to let the memory of his phantom disappear into the shadows of her quarters.

He would work on his skills and avoid her until ready so that again it would not appear.

He had not left his emulation in the hallway, together with the other beasts

but had drew it back into himself as he sat in the field, in a little chair.

He would have to feed them. He would have to keep them calm. So that she would go along.

The Sister, slight in her walk cast down her eyes. She approached and he rose above her.

She began her report and nothing at all, except for the angel that hovered at the entrance to her door was surprising.

Of course she would want release. Of course she offered reward. He had to admit Gold was rather enticing.

The nun, dumb to all these things would not be in the knowing.

"She needs to be protected and so we will keep her there until we are better prepared. Did she say where she keeps the Gold, did she mention at all where its hidden?"

"No, she could not be persuaded to tell me and I felt rather odd, pursuing those things. What does a nun need with her business, to go robbing? But I think you may be correct when you say she's involved in witchcraft. Some of the Gold is on her. Didn't you say that she was thoroughly searched? She is also in possession of the item that you mentioned. I must say it is very remarkable, and as you predicted, she wouldn't let me touch it. She is very convincing and speaks French remarkably well. Is it possible she is working with the Devil and that the Angel I saw is the trickery of Light?"

Oh how he wished he could accuse her, but he knew in the blackness of his heart it would backfire. He could not be challenged by a worker of magic, at least not yet.

"No, I still believe she is the one we have been expecting. The oracle said she would have this golden feather, and the amulet. If she is a worker of magic, we will convince her by the scriptures, that it is wrong that she is doing these things. But she must be held in high esteem, for she is key to fulfilling the prophecy. We will convince her also that it is for the best to keep her protected."

"Will you meet with her then, to tell her these things?"

"No, my dear Sister - I think it is time for you to advance in your training. I give you full charge of her."

Only then did she look into his eyes. He showed them to her clearly and brilliantly. He gave her his handsome smile. Her cheeks were hot, as she wore her habit and they stood smack in the sun. Her heart was soaring in the Lord. Bowing, she said, "I will not disappoint you Father."

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Above all, these people are afraid of symbols.

They know of their magical powers

and think they will be weaved into trepidation.

They know in their heart of hearts

that the spirit abounds

but they hold trivial to their fears.

They need someone to guide them

as you do

and so I can only hide in caricatures

of partial understanding.

I am a cross and a circle.

I have been called all things.

I am the one in the middle splayed

wide open from the middle.

I go up and down.

I am forward and backward.

I spin all around

but I am still standing.

I am the understanding

of the central wheel,

its many faces

and the lines that are left

in its traces.

I am more than the colorful glass

that eludes the inner container,

the combinations of exhaust,

the foams and the risings.

I am the one who is always surprising.

Even without these intoxicating things.

I am and will be.

**

There is a tempter.

You can see her and use her,

if you have a keen eye.

It is a shame that for as old as she is

she could not be much wiser.

Edited by SpiritWriter
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SpiritWritercropped2_zps01d65f32.gif

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The spirit came upon her and she cried violently. At that moment she felt connected to the waterfall and to the river of souls. In her mind she saw them rising and falling, climbing over one another in the currents. She felt the gasps they took before drowning. Without control she raised her hands as if in gratitude, or in hopes that the love in her heart could be extended outward to the source and inward to fortify her soul. She fell to her knees and continued weeping.

She was touched on her chin and got the impression she ought not to grovel, not to loose sight of the important opportunity at hand by getting lost in the illusion of fog. She stood again and the scene was still fluid in front of her. She took the time to listen and look. She scanned the area for _______. She did not see her lover but could see, side by side, their galloping horses. She saw glimpses of the chain of princesses, each of their flowers faded and none of them were left standing. She saw the emergence of herself and knew she was the next in line.

Why then does _______ have the inheritance? She let out a sound, which was deep and like a scream of rage as she waved her right hand in front of her. A swirl of red, like the running lines from a felines gash vanished the images. She slumped to the ground and thought of these things.

Edited by SpiritWriter

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my little honey

I hated you

and put up defense

with my body

my face

my feet and elbows swelled

I puffed and sweltered

in disagreement with your buzzing

and you turned up your butt to snub me.

HA - I laughed as you got squished

until you went into remission.

Oh little bee

now I love your sugar.

I'd rather be stuck with you

than anything granulated or shifty.

Come pet my flower

with those bags at your hips.

Spend all day

in my bushes.

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It was from the mouth

of her father who prayed

she came

and from the woman

whose legs were splayed.

On the earth

naked and small

she was displayed for all

and there was just the two.

Her mothers milk was breakfast

until she learned pick

leaves from sticks

and began to chew.

These were the elementary games she played:

building blocks

nothing blocked her

no-one told her she couldn't

and so she could

there was no danger

because there was no fear

there was no chance to fall

under her feet

held her weight

no matter the branch

how small.

Curiosity was her favorite friend

the only one she knew

so in the wind she blew

until she was very tall.

Edited by SpiritWriter

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