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Local Parasite
Deputy Moderator 10 Tours
Member Elite
since 11-05-2001
Posts 2929
Transylconia, Winnipeg


0 posted 03-06-2003 02:58 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

Our youth is left within the caudal
History of hopeful prayers
By revelation - that which tears
Such strength from us.

                                          It somehow glares
Into my spirit when I see
The truth encounter'd back at me;
A child of summers two or three
Whose vital eyes can vainly waddle
'Cross a lane of sky.
From he, no facts or truths could pry
Imagination's capless bottle
Waking snaps of fingers try
In vain, but nothing do they sow
From minds in dazing, ever gazing
t'ward a hazing gust of snow.

For arrogance is all we know
From science, all that we compose
Yet even infant waltzing knows
The opiates of grim deception;
Winter, what a stark reception
Tolls the dreaming, reaching eyes
Of infancy, that they surmise
Across this glassy pane could be
A paradise.

                       But o how we,
Who on the sorrow'd prophecy
Debase ourselves, could never see
What ignorance and whimsy sings
The hopefulness of hidden things,
The fantasy of mighty claims
Whose virtue, noble science, shames
With simple happiness.

                                          Perhaps
He, with his dreams of climbing, traps
The raking claws of winter trees
Whose tendrils, snapping as they freeze,
Allure him; or the sullied sound
Of flurry, that same winter hound
Who upward, downward, casts his praise
To moonlight, could his arrow raise
And send him out to hunt; Or may
The waves of deading snow who sway
Across the streets be what he whims
As that warm cheek of living brims
With fake and sens'ry heroism?
Or is it that mysterious prism
Jutting from the crag of street
That boasts reality, that meets
His sense to say, "The truth for thee
Doth not equate the minstrelsy
Of chariots, who o'er thy bed
Are ever circling."  Aye, instead
He soon shall see that weary band
Of workers with a callous'd hand
Not similar to that he raises
Ignorant, to throw their praises;
Shaking, in a glimpse of joy
That's soon forsaken.

                                       Know, sweet boy,
That this is what the world shall be
For ev'ry being more than thee
Who climbs into this realm of life.
And know, that spectral winter knife
That slices through thy glassy shield
Does not destroy the hungry yield
With which thou dreamest.  Think instead
The snow clouds, and the streets they tread
On present times of carelessness
That thou canst, 'gainst that window, press
Thy cheek in wonder.


[This message has been edited by Local Parasite (03-06-2003 06:12 PM).]

© Copyright 2003 Brian James Lee - All Rights Reserved
Marshalzu
Deputy Moderator 10 ToursDeputy Moderator 10 ToursDeputy Moderator 5 ToursDeputy Moderator 1 Tour
Member Elite
since 02-15-2001
Posts 4465
Lurking


1 posted 03-06-2003 04:32 PM       View Profile for Marshalzu   Email Marshalzu   Edit/Delete Message      Find Poems   Click to visit Marshalzu's Home Page   View IP for Marshalzu

This is absolutely masterful, the flow is perfect and it was such a pleasure to read, the imagery was vivid and clear yet left enough to be interpretted, this is one of my favorites by you and a peice that I can treasure alongside any of the greats.

My Violent Bedtime Stories

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


2 posted 03-06-2003 10:22 PM       View Profile for Janet Marie   Email Janet Marie   Edit/Delete Message      Find Poems  View IP for Janet Marie

Perhaps
He, with his dreams of climbing, traps
The raking claws of winter trees
Whose tendrils, snapping as they freeze,
Allure him; or the sullied sound
Of flurry, that same winter hound
Who upward, downward, casts his praise
To moonlight, could his arrow raise
And send him out to hunt; Or may
The waves of deading snow who sway
Across the streets be what he whims
As that warm cheek of living brims
With fake and sens'ry heroism?
Or is it that mysterious prism
Jutting from the crag of street
That boasts reality, that meets
His sense to say, "The truth for thee
Doth not equate the minstrelsy
Of chariots, who o'er thy bed
Are ever circling."  Aye, instead
He soon shall see that weary band
Of workers with a callous'd hand
Not similar to that he raises
Ignorant, to throw their praises;
Shaking, in a glimpse of joy
That's soon forsaken.

Know, sweet boy,
That this is what the world shall be
For ev'ry being more than thee
Who climbs into this realm of life.
And know, that spectral winter knife
That slices through thy glassy shield
Does not destroy the hungry yield
With which thou dreamest.  Think instead
The snow clouds, and the streets they tread
On present times of carelessness
That thou canst, 'gainst that window, press
Thy cheek in wonder.

===================================


Holy moly...I dont know what you see out your window..but I gotta get me some of that view!!!!!  
Sheesh Bri...talk about imagery overload...those above verses are poetic panaramics!! Vivid and sharp scenery created with your edge of surrealism combined wuth your love of winter's white wonder...Awesome imagery and equally awesome employ of vocabulary...very impressive indeed...as is the rhyme scheme...the assonance and alliterations and last but never least your gift for symbolism.
This will be one that I will have to inhale many times to truly learn from all its poetic splendors.
I am but the moth grasshopper...you are my Sensi parasite poet  

     
peace & poetry

[This message has been edited by Janet Marie (03-06-2003 10:23 PM).]

Martie
Moderator
Member Empyrean
since 09-21-1999
Posts 28608
California


3 posted 03-07-2003 12:02 AM       View Profile for Martie   Email Martie   Edit/Delete Message      Find Poems   Click to visit Martie's Home Page   View IP for Martie

LP...I have to agree with Janet Marie..your poetry is amazing!
Child of the Stars
Deputy Moderator 1 TourDeputy Moderator 1 TourDeputy Moderator 1 Tour
Senior Member
since 09-07-2000
Posts 1972
Ann Arbor, MI


4 posted 03-07-2003 09:24 AM       View Profile for Child of the Stars   Email Child of the Stars   Edit/Delete Message      Find Poems  View IP for Child of the Stars

You know I've missed drooling when reading your stuff.  Spittle has had a welcome return... Maybe I'll be back to actually pick this apart and erhm..interpret! Hello again, Brian.

  ~Carly

empty arms
and half a soul to go
                     -el sol
                        --Zwan

fractal007
Member Elite
since 06-01-2000
Posts 2032


5 posted 03-07-2003 06:28 PM       View Profile for fractal007   Edit/Delete Message      Find Poems  View IP for fractal007

OOOOOHHHHH!!!!

This one sent chills up my spine and through my mind.  Your personification of the natural elements is masterful!  The house as an implicit symbol for the body and the person looking out the window as one for the mind is beautifully developed.  

Yet even infant waltzing knows
The opiates of grim deception;
Winter, what a stark reception
Tolls the dreaming, reaching eyes
Of infancy, that they surmise
Across this glassy pane could be
A paradise.


This is wonderfully written, and the preceeding lines concerning our arrogance is a stunning attack against our so-called rationalistic ideal of human life.  

One small thing:

He soon shall see that weary band
Of workers with a callous'd hand


Could you have accomplished this by rhyming bands with hands?  "He sooon shall see the weary bands / of workers with their callous'd hands"?

All in all this piece is a POWERFUL and devastating attack on youthful idealism!  I will certainly add this to my library as the best I've seen from you yet.

"If my fate is to die, I must simply laugh"
-- Magus
"there is no good and evil, there are just sides."
-- Local Parasite

Child of the Stars
Deputy Moderator 1 TourDeputy Moderator 1 TourDeputy Moderator 1 Tour
Senior Member
since 09-07-2000
Posts 1972
Ann Arbor, MI


6 posted 03-07-2003 10:54 PM       View Profile for Child of the Stars   Email Child of the Stars   Edit/Delete Message      Find Poems  View IP for Child of the Stars

Ahh..I noticed that too, Frac..only I thought it was sposed to note that the workers have no identities, no 'personal' hands. They're just a part of a collective body? It's late...sleepy time for me. (uh, as if all of you wanted to know that, hehe)

  ~Carly

empty arms
and half a soul to go
                     -el sol
                        --Zwan

[This message has been edited by Child of the Stars (03-07-2003 10:54 PM).]

fractal007
Member Elite
since 06-01-2000
Posts 2032


7 posted 03-07-2003 11:36 PM       View Profile for fractal007   Edit/Delete Message      Find Poems  View IP for fractal007

Carly:

I had not thought of that.  That's a good idea.  This poem is certainly giving critics and interpreters a run for their money!

"If my fate is to die, I must simply laugh"
-- Magus
"there is no good and evil, there are just sides."
-- Local Parasite

Local Parasite
Deputy Moderator 10 Tours
Member Elite
since 11-05-2001
Posts 2929
Transylconia, Winnipeg


8 posted 03-12-2003 12:15 PM       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

Zu - Thanks for the read and the compliments.  Me alongside the greats?  It just might happen, you never know.  

JM - Glad you enjoyed this.  Winter's not such a bad thing when it's seen from the other side of a window, hm?  I like the idea of looking without touching or disturbing, that's why I wrote this.  I know you've used the same theme before, but this is based on an actual experience I had, so I'm not ripping you off or anything.  

Martie - Nahh... I've got a long way to come yet, but I am pleased with how this particular poem turned out and can't see anything I'd wish to improve on it.  Thanks for the compliment.  

Carly - Get some tissue, that's just gross!!  

Frac - You think so?  Well I'm surprised if this is my best one yet, but nonetheless reassured that I do in fact have some talent beyond time-consuming revision and modification.  I wrote this in its entirity while laying on a couch in my University atrium and staring out the window.  It's based on an experience I had on the bus on the way there, watching a child in the seat in front of me, staring out the bus window at everything passing by and pointing out to his mother all the trees he is going to climb and all the adventures he is going to have.  I took notes on it, I hope nobody was creeped out by me examining this child's activity and recording it.  

And as for the "workers with a callous'd hand" line, the hand doesn't belong to the workers, it belongs to the boy.  He soon shall see them with a callous'd hand, as in, with his callous'd hand he soon shall see them.  Maybe I worded that a bit unusually but I think it's clear enough and I won't touch it.

You guys make me grin.  

Parasite

"Faith" means the will to avoid knowing what is true.
~ Friedrich Wilhelm Nietzsche

BrokenAngel
Member
since 01-06-2002
Posts 144
Puryear, TN, USA


9 posted 03-18-2003 02:33 PM       View Profile for BrokenAngel   Email BrokenAngel   Edit/Delete Message      Find Poems  View IP for BrokenAngel

O my dear Lord...I have no idea as to what to say to this.  You really should submit some for the book, your poetry is so wonderful.  I really wish I could write with just a fraction of the mastery you poses(I can't spell) I really think you will go far in the world of poetry.  Wonderful write!!!  Even though "wonderful" does not do it justice, I can't find any other word to use.

Read my work and read my thoughts
I'll go back into the night now
---Night Angel

LoveBug
Deputy Moderator 5 Tours
Moderator
Member Ascendant
since 01-08-2000
Posts 5015


10 posted 03-29-2003 08:37 AM       View Profile for LoveBug   Email LoveBug   Edit/Delete Message      Find Poems  View IP for LoveBug

This is a good one, Brian. The imagery is amazing, even for you, and the meter is perfect from what I can tell. I especially enjoyed the last stanza. Dreams vs. reality.. always a good subject. You have much to be envied.

Oh, make me Thine forever
And should I fainting be
Lord, let me never ever
Outlive my love for Thee

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