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Passions in Poetry

Stop and Go (frazzled yellows make no haste)

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Local Parasite
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since 11-05-2001
Posts 2929
Transylconia, Winnipeg


0 posted 12-02-2002 04:05 PM       View Profile for Local Parasite   Email Local Parasite   Edit/Delete Message      Find Poems   Click to Submit your Poem to Passions   Click to visit Local Parasite's Home Page   View IP for Local Parasite

Stop and Go

  (I)

In vertigo to ever be
  I sit upon a seat with me
  And through that pane of glass
  I pass
  We pass, what we would see
  And each with hand to smoggen hand
  They march in bold procession, where they stand
  We keep us safe, protect us from the wild
  In belly of th'eleventh child

  Our eyes hold tight our own accounts
  Just one, the hands and faces that he counts
  Are dropt in cold
  That he behold, and all beheld
  Where all his truths were fail'd, befell'd.
  Of statues, celebrating each, themselves
  I am but one, am shell'd
  upon his shelves.

  Where we, upon his floor, are born
  Are each with horn
  And each are hoov'd
  Where by his plan, at ev'ry mark, "approv'd."
  He speaks, "approv'd."

  (II)

Your colours ill
  They all stand still
  Farewell to green, it is a waste
  No polish'd red to taste
  All labour'd "hellos," frazzl'd yellows
  make no haste.

  A step away, I dismount the eleven
  And bid "farewell"
  That all your hell
  Could send you off to heaven.
  As though your trip could yet compel
  A mark for ev'ry date
  In still, I wait
  In stop, the forty-seven.

  A trail of brown
  You lumber down
  Away, the amber in your wake
  Adorns my crown
  I own downtown
  Each stone, each foggy lake.

  (III)

Now here we are, just you and I
  Has all the when
  Of here and then
  And now, been tilted wry?
  I'm glad to see you here again
  Am glad, 'tis you and I

  And eyes, in waltz
  To watch that beast, so loud
  It ambles closer, closer, where it halts
  Be sure, it is a bashful crowd.

  But here, my friend
  Our common traits,
  Where stopping waits,
  Shall bend.
  Behind my step, those orange gates,
  Your waiting waits no end.

  To leave you puts me in disgust
  It is not just
  It is not right
  I speak to you, "goodnight."
  I speak, "goodnight."

[This message has been edited by Local Parasite (12-02-2002 04:15 PM).]

© Copyright 2002 Brian James Lee - All Rights Reserved
Cpat Hair
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since 06-05-2001
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1 posted 12-02-2002 05:19 PM       View Profile for Cpat Hair   Email Cpat Hair   Edit/Delete Message      Find Poems  View IP for Cpat Hair

And you used it in a poem that impressed and mystified me all at the same time. Very creative...  quite a talent you have!

quietlydying
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the wonderful land of oz


2 posted 12-02-2002 11:40 PM       View Profile for quietlydying   Email quietlydying   Edit/Delete Message      Find Poems  View IP for quietlydying

quote:
Your colours ill
  They all stand still
  Farewell to green, it is a waste
  No polish'd red to taste
  All labour'd "hellos," frazzl'd yellows
  make no haste.


best stanza in the whole piece.     a little long, but an enjoyable read nonetheless.

/jen/

i'm so bitterly disappointed.  betty, i think it's time you leave now.

quietlydying
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since 06-10-2001
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the wonderful land of oz


3 posted 12-02-2002 11:44 PM       View Profile for quietlydying   Email quietlydying   Edit/Delete Message      Find Poems  View IP for quietlydying

read it again.  

i'm in love with this one.  second time round is so much better.

have you don the sixty-six?  through and through?  it's quite a ride.  

/jen/

i'm so bitterly disappointed.  betty, i think it's time you leave now.

Janet Marie
Member Laureate
since 01-22-2000
Posts 18986


4 posted 12-03-2002 12:25 AM       View Profile for Janet Marie   Email Janet Marie   Edit/Delete Message      Find Poems  View IP for Janet Marie

In vertigo to ever be
  I sit upon a seat with me
  And through that pane of glass
  I pass
  We pass, what we would see
  And each with hand to smoggen hand
  They march in bold procession, where they stand
  We keep us safe, protect us from the wild
  In belly of th'eleventh child


  Our eyes hold tight our own accounts
  Just one, the hands and faces that he counts
  Are dropt in cold
  That he behold, and all beheld
  Where all his truths were fail'd, befell'd.

  Of statues, celebrating each, themselves
  I am but one, am shell'd
  upon his shelves.
=======================================

I was just getting ready to shut this down for the night...and lookie what I find for a bed time story.
Have I mentioned that you rock?
your gift for cadence, meter, assonance and internal rhymes is damn impressive..as is your use of vocab, verbiage and language.

this was pure poetry in motion to read loud.
very cool write me Poetic Prodigy Parasite

(say goodnight moth)
bsquirrel
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Member Rara Avis
since 01-03-2000
Posts 8382


5 posted 12-03-2002 06:56 PM       View Profile for bsquirrel   Email bsquirrel   Edit/Delete Message      Find Poems  View IP for bsquirrel

Reads like something T.S. Eliot would write about Dante while waiting at a traffic light. In other words -- cooooooool.
Local Parasite
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Member Elite
since 11-05-2001
Posts 2929
Transylconia, Winnipeg


6 posted 12-05-2002 12:38 AM       View Profile for Local Parasite   Email Local Parasite   Edit/Delete Message      Find Poems   Click to visit Local Parasite's Home Page   View IP for Local Parasite

Ron - Thanks very much for your kind words.  I actually was writing a poem and that phrase seemed to fit in when I was using the streetlight image, soo... I just tost it in there.  

QD (sounds like "cutie" when you say it out loud!) - Well, thanks for falling in love with this one.  I was trying to make the stanzas a bit stringier, so that you'd like it a bit more... after all, I was using your phrase.  It was actually fun to try... I might do it again sometime.     And yes, I've done the 66.  Maybe that'll be my next adventure in poetry?

JM - Where would my ego be without you?     Sleep tight, mothygirl.

Mikey - You like?  Heh... actually I never noticed that similarity to Eliot's style.  I guess it has to do with my focus on imagery, and use of uneven foot counts per verse... maybe...     Thanks for the nice comparison.

And thanks again for reading, everyone.  Glad this got such a good response.  

Parasite


Facts do not cease to exist because they are ignored.
~Aldous Huxley

[This message has been edited by Local Parasite (12-05-2002 12:39 AM).]

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