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brian madden
Member Elite
since 2000-05-06
Posts 4374
ireland

0 posted 2000-06-30 06:54 PM


this is the last of them, all my old dark misery short poems.
=============================================
Weeping

The hand of the innocent laid on my brow
Stroking the flesh that harbours such misery.
Rasping: my calls from around bedroom floor,
Pooling my eyes and arising
A Fire shivers inside.
The flames to pagans dance freely
Rejoicing their possession.
She comes to my aid soothing the demons
Picking the body to a heavenly world.
Smiling an acknowledgement,
Wandering eyes study fluttering beneath a
White silken dress.
A ripening  red tear stains the sheets.
Tracing the source and rubbing the wound
With a hidden intent.

=============================================
My Hell

My Hell you always follow me around
arising and chasing biting hard
when nothing is on offer.
No distractions to numb or tame
my wondering thoughts,
By simple boredom I return to the place
I should have known I created.
In the playground (battleground)
the little children, cared for as innocence,
are out for blood
and they will tear you apart
with their sweet little hands.
Savaged by wolves at ten
I was left half dead to stitch
myself back together.
Isolation brings a sense of belonging.
She tended to me with no agenda
but I have not learned to receive.
Somehow in a distant part I know
this world I am trapped in is dying,
I welcome the funeral to return
to a part more comforting more humane -
a womb where I can live unaware like everybody else.
=============================================
Democracy

In the age of fools where wine flowed freely
We drank deeply, No greedily till drought.
Waking sober to a country alien to our minds.
Anarchy ruled for the day until the elected
Leaders we crafted created
From the earth: monuments to our intellect.
In restoring order they took control
Freedom stolen. In our clear-eyed state we followed blindly.




A rock pile ceases to be a rock pile the moment a single man contemplates it, bearing within him the image of a cathedral. Antoine de Saint-Exupéry

© Copyright 2000 brian madden - All Rights Reserved
Isis
Member Ascendant
since 1999-09-06
Posts 6296
Sunny Queensland
1 posted 2000-06-30 07:06 PM


In our clear eyed state we follow blindly..
Like that!!  But a sad reality is so many younger people aren't so clear eyed these days...
Great work hon, well worth the read  

I'll tell you this...... No eternal reward will forgive us now for wasting the dawn.....
~Isis~
(Goddess - Sovereign of the Spirit)


SpitFire
Member Elite
since 2000-04-19
Posts 2396

2 posted 2000-06-30 07:09 PM


~WooHoo,...and what a finale Brian to these short poems.  Awww,...do they have to end???  These three were so interesting...My Hell just seeped itself into my pores and right to my heart.   Wow,...isn't it amazing how cruel and at the same time so unaware they can be.  Your descriptions are chilling...
In the playground (battleground)
the little children, cared for as innocence,
are out for blood and they will tear you apart with their sweet little hands. *Sigh*...I'm just shaking my head here.  
~Weeping is a well told tale and made me feel the misery along with the speaker. The last line has got me thinking.  Gosh, do you do this well. hehe.
~Democracy,...Oh Gosh,...do I even dare. hehe....I'll leave this one with saying ok this poem rox. haha.  Well put. Awesome work here....Love it all.  Thanks for the reading material. LOL.  Take care Brian. *Peace.

Hardrock
Senior Member
since 2000-02-14
Posts 948
New Hampshire, USA
3 posted 2000-06-30 08:22 PM


Brian....I don't know what to say, except stunning, absolutely stunning.  Superlative work.  Hardrock
Jeremiah Johnson
Senior Member
since 2000-06-08
Posts 1223
Brooksville, Fl, U.S
4 posted 2000-07-01 01:26 AM


shock shock shock, these are so amazing its almost scary. i love your work here as well as on other poems. these express so much of what i feel. and i'm 17 and i see just fine just to let you know there is some teen out there on your side of the line helping you fight.

I'm a dying romantic and when i can no longer write i can no longer live -Jeremiah Johnson-


taramw
Senior Member
since 2000-06-08
Posts 738

5 posted 2000-07-01 07:20 AM


Brian, these poems were superb!    I thoroughly enjoyed reading them... I like your style of writing  
brian madden
Member Elite
since 2000-05-06
Posts 4374
ireland
6 posted 2000-07-01 12:43 PM


thanks for your reply, Isis. I agree that it is so easy to lose your way these days. thanks for your kind words.

SpitFire, yes they have to end. Those are all my early poems, from my tortured teens. lol. Thanks for your wonderful reply.

Hardrock, I too am lost for words all I can say is Thank you, thank you for your wonderful response.

Jeremiah, thank you for your support. It means alot. I remember that I was 17 not so long ago. I am now 20 (an adult. scary thought) but I understand, I wrote those poems when I was 17/18. Thank you for your wonderful reply, and support. those words mean a lot to me.

taramw, thank you for your lovely reply.

  

A rock pile ceases to be a rock pile the moment a single man contemplates it, bearing within him the image of a cathedral. Antoine de Saint-Exupéry


[This message has been edited by brian madden (edited 07-01-2000).]

Janet Marie
Member Laureate
since 2000-01-22
Posts 18554

7 posted 2000-07-01 11:03 PM


always late and underdressed  to your
parties  
but always impressed with your invitations  
excellent Bri...
such depth... such imagery...
weeping is awesome ...
Im with spitfire...
they dont have to end-- WRITE NEW ONES  
later-poetic-prophet-gator
jm

What the caterpillar calls the end ...
The world calls a butterfly
~LaoTzeTao~
~Butterflies are meant to be free~


Irish Rose
Member Patricius
since 2000-04-06
Posts 10263

8 posted 2000-07-02 11:17 AM


Someone is quite a deep thinker.
These were truly expressive.
By the way, I like your picture!
I would post one but no one will tell me how!!!


You left me, sweet, two legacies,-
a legacy of love
A Heavenly Father would content,
Had He the offer of;
Emily Dickinson

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