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wind and running water
I had that dream again yesterday
that kept me up that night whereby the wind pulled me, like water, by arm around with her and spoke to me measured words perhaps the only sounds i would have heard Utopis became of the zittering world Then I returned again to Earth feet once again bathed by her Not yet meant to fly, I began to walk looking for a brooding passion to display at my fingertips. Oh Catullus were you right after all? For now I too wonder if I felt that gale-less storm of wind and running water. |
The Turning of Ixion's Wheel
Where were you when I was looking,
Lurking in the shadows beneath the shade of the weeping willows Covered in oak and laurel leaves Wondering what might have been If I had followed the path of the eagle clutching his fasces wielding that hatchet with abandon The death of your dreams As the night comes back to haunt With only the sun as your saviour the salvation of the twelves steps Before the rest Calling out to Seth To accept his rest The work for the day done Leaving you to confront yourself yet No warmth in ignoring your deeds Nor in constructing fantasies So layered that fish will never see the ocean A ring of their commitment their entrapment Sealed all in your little black boxes Avoiding Chaos Until Anubis comes calling Beckoning brighter than the Aten You shield your eyes from the light And turn away And anger at the rays Disapating the shadows from under which you hide And leave the rest In their blissful bestial ignorance to be sacrified The new holocaust of man As we await the waters of life And the turning of Ixion's wheel. |
Trees
I spent hours watching leaves detach themselves from trees
Doing exactly what their namesake of a season suggests I felt the warmth of the sun and was at home amongst the trees as they shaded me The presence of such life that is always actual Immalleable to the wills of societies or the desires of We insignificant things who believe in our own importance I am at peace when I belong to nothing When I am unrecognised as being an entity trapped in flesh Alone, in the world without words, there is another language you can hear it on the wind, feel it in the breeze As they speak to me or you with rustling ancient voices Welcoming us into the places they would call their homes The places we interlopers dare to go Tresspassing int the realm of ancient eyes and life and experience Shh, hush and listen to their cries carried by the skies Let them tell you of their hopes Watch their leaves wither as these silent philosophers ruminate The meaning of a world we can only imagine Ask for their knowledge, their understanding And receive their warmth and love as you harvest them to build Your homes, furniture, play pens to hold the life you dare to value And remember, all that lives dies And all that dies should learn how to so gracefully as they. |
I love your poems Would you like to be friends?
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yeah, sounds cool
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Antoninius, only one poetry thread is allowed per person in this forum, so I've gone ahead and merged the three threads you've made into one. You can continue to post your poetry here, one poem per post. Thank you!
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