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Open Poetry #48
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Michael
Moderator
Member Rara Avis
since 1999-08-13
Posts 7666
California

0 posted 2012-09-20 05:27 PM



Once


There once was a poet, who had no name,
Who sought not fortune -- sought not fame.
'Walked a stright line, but lost his home,
And in the end, was left to roam
The pointing fingers, and leering eyes
Of the self-righteous feigning surprise.
And so, all decoration spent,
He burned the bridges as he went.

Along his way, temptations rose,
But always, inclination froze.
The "damned if you do" set in mind...
He never did, and lost, in kind.
His shadow growing, day by day,
Ever showing, along the way...
Soon, even darkness seemed to fear
The pitch-black sense of him, drawing near.

The measure set, low, and not proud,
He still would sing his song, aloud.
And, one day, thinking he was alone,
To the forest his voice was thrown.
It's there the stricken melody
Enchanted her, and set her free...
And in the trembling moment struck
The chord that ever damned his luck.

She sang to him, a gentle psalm
Of adoration, a soothing balm.
His guard was dropped, as he looked on,
The mystery having him drawn.
It was there he was led from his path --
His road to nowhere -- his aftermath.
And it was there she first appeared,
In shining white, and enamored

Him to her, touched by a tender breeze,
As even nature likes to tease...
A flitting glimpse of hope, she ran.
So did he, as fast as a man can.
The way not clear, it made no sense,
But he knew he had to convince
Her of his love, and the good he held
Through years of darkness, unparalleled.

But when, at last, she finally slowed,
Those hidden things, they finally showed...
Touching him with nails, long and sharp
As the wailing of the Aeolian Harp.
With her wicked grin, disconcerting --
Eyes never meeting his, averting,
And her white dress, reflecting in the river, black,
He knew there would be no way back.

To the self sought agony, once chose;
Each night now spent in Misery's throes,
As her laughter echoes through the trees,
While he spends forever on his knees.
And it's said that some still hear his song,
Near the deep woods, walking along,
But if they do, they ought to run
From this haunted place, which sees no sun...

Where the dreams of the dead heed no voice,
Walking eternity, without a choice.
As the very shadow of nightmare hangs
Across the sky, as that church bell clangs,
Which marks the ending of a time
Some nameless poet shared his rhyme...
And his vision, so aptly wasted
On a peace of mind never tasted.


Michael Anderson



Death's but a path that must be trod,
If man would ever pass to God.

Thomas Parnell

[This message has been edited by Michael (09-21-2012 02:11 PM).]

© Copyright 2012 Michael Anderson - All Rights Reserved
JerryPat2
Member Laureate
since 2011-02-06
Posts 16975
South Louisiana
1 posted 2012-09-20 06:50 PM


LOVED this, Michael. Don't know how much is lifted from reality, or if it is merely (this poem can never be said of as "merely") the fantasy of a Poeish poet. Everything about this was excellent, the cadence, the rhyming and the story itself. Three times the charm, Michael, and this one definitely was that, charmingly dark.

~*~ If they give you ruled paper write sideways. ~*~

JL
Member Ascendant
since 2004-04-01
Posts 6128
Texas, USA
2 posted 2012-09-21 10:38 AM


"But when, at last, she finally slowed,
Those hidden things, they finally showed...
Touching him with nails, long and sharp
As the wailing of the Aeolian Harp.
With her wicked grin, disconcerting --
Eyes never meeting his, averting,
And her white dress, reflecting in the river, black,
He knew there would be no way back."


If there ever could be a reflective voice
to explain, "Black Widow" this is pretty darn close.  And thank God, it is only
"once"...


Enjoyed, Mr. Michael.
JL

Love the Lord your God with all your heart, and with all your soul,and with all your mind. Love your neighbor as yourself.
Maranatha!

suthern
Deputy Moderator 1 TourDeputy Moderator 1 Tour
Member Seraphic
since 1999-07-29
Posts 20723
Louisiana
3 posted 2012-09-26 03:42 PM


From soothing balm to misery's throes... we feel his journey as he plunges from hope to hell... and we ache for him. Magnificent write... I don't think I took a breath till several moments past the last line!!!
passing shadows
Member Empyrean
since 1999-08-26
Posts 45577
displaced
4 posted 2012-10-01 08:34 PM


I am listening to Eric Johnson's song called Gem and what a mood I'm in after reading this along with the musical backing

just awesome, an awesome mood

nakdthoughts
Member Laureate
since 2000-10-29
Posts 19200
Between the Lines
5 posted 2012-10-02 11:16 AM


I loved this Michael,  and could see it as an illustrated version.

M

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