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Passions in Poetry


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Senior Member
since 12-04-1999
Posts 552
new orleans

0 posted 01-15-2000 04:22 AM       View Profile for poetry_kills   Email poetry_kills   Edit/Delete Message      Find Poems   Click to Submit your Poem to Passions   Click to visit poetry_kills's Home Page   View IP for poetry_kills


     Sitting on a low granite platform with mosquitoes buzzing in my ears and staring up at the silver-dollar moon and out across the softly undulating waves of the lake,
     My new-found friend Wyle sitting beside me mumbling softly about noble faiths, majestic beauties and annoying ants that keep biting his ankles,
     I lose my mind in the rustling reeds and screaming voice of the moon which is calling down to me from its home in the heavens
     My sanity slowly slipping away, the sudden urges to stand up and shout at the persuasively taunting moon, to jump in the lake and swim until my frail body gives out,
     To drown serenely with visions of peace hope love patience honor joy beauty still fresh in my mind's eye,
     And the moon's low voice, like the rhythmic waves of the water, reaches my ears "you've lived too long and yet not long enough, you know too much but nothing worth hearing you are the wisest of the fools, the holiest of the damned"
     Wyle sitting serenely, the moon's cruel taunts not reaching his ears or at least not penetrating his thoughts, still he complains of the ants and the mosquitoes and the stiff brown grass that scratches his arms as he reclines on the bank of the waters,
     And in my mind I'm screaming now, shouting down the moon, breaking his will in a staring contest that I am more than determined to win, calling upon the stars for help, to stop their brother from his charmingly cynical rants,
     The moon surrendered only when his sister the sun appeared and drove him away with angry chastisement and sharp words,
     So I thanked the sun and its golden glow and bid that world adieu and returned to my room where I slept and dreamt and woke again, not knowing whether I had lived that moment in the realm of dreams or reality.

**jerome the boy whose brain got left out in the rain and nobody bothered to dry it off when they put it back in

[This message has been edited by poetry_kills (edited 01-15-2000).]
© Copyright 2000 Jerome Solomon - All Rights Reserved
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Member Rara Avis
since 01-03-2000
Posts 8382

1 posted 01-16-2000 03:01 AM       View Profile for bsquirrel   Email bsquirrel   Edit/Delete Message      Find Poems  View IP for bsquirrel

I really enjoyed this. And it's showing me that the rising and setting of the sua and moon are common themes in this forum, too. Thanks for the great visuals -- you're definitely adept at that. One thing: take out "mind's eye." No cliches allowed!

Member Seraphic
since 08-22-99
Posts 23002

2 posted 01-16-2000 03:01 PM       View Profile for Denise   Edit/Delete Message      Find Poems  View IP for Denise

Great poem! I enjoyed this!


And slight is the sting of his trouble
Whose winnings are less than his worth;
For he who is honest is noble,
Whatever his fortunes or birth.~~~Alice Cary, ~Nobility~

Rus Bowden
since 01-13-2000
Posts 141

3 posted 01-16-2000 08:17 PM       View Profile for Rus Bowden   Email Rus Bowden   Edit/Delete Message      Find Poems  View IP for Rus Bowden

hi poetry_kills,

what a terrific scene you've depicted.  i love the different perspectives and complaints between your speaker and Wyle, yet right there together.

since 01-14-2000
Posts 68
Arkansas... that's all you get

4 posted 01-16-2000 11:27 PM       View Profile for merely_a_jester   Email merely_a_jester   Edit/Delete Message      Find Poems  View IP for merely_a_jester

for some reason i can associate with this one
i love it
keep up the great work

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