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ethome
Member Patricius

since 2000-05-14

Posts 11858
New Brunswick Canada

0 posted 2004-03-26 07:03 PM

      The shadows of dusk hide in the young eyes of couriers,
                those creaking young bones drive their engines home
                into their suburb shrines, restore the curse of
                desire and the order of child and their paths cross over
                the path makers and the blankets of lenders
                cover fixed winners. But the crisp glad faces,
                the artists of skilled sleep, their glaring smiles
                filled long with cool and gleaming white,
                walk in green pastures beyond the streets gray lid,
                beyond optics scattered in sheltered wombs,
                in the high towers, where scent nor repose reaches.

                Birds in the Beech trees, singing birds -
                whom no shelter covers, whose small wings wander
                the silvery arms of life, warbling
                sweet zest, melodies that ferry love songs
                to thrill the soul to the inner chambers, the old
                music of the woodland trails and the flight of fall Geese
                that bid adieu the scoured succulent harvest,
                throw their bright voices on the future's restless ears.

                Oh fiber dreamers. Oh concrete toilers
                of the sad cities, messengers trapped in din halls,
                in the uprising throngs of haste with the head
                chiefs drawn faces of sworn allegiance -
                greenwoods call, call from the struggling seeds,
                show me your faces - sleep in my protest tent.

                Under the coins in the wishing well
                a myriad of faces hide, the faces of children
                their love communion
                to lacking ears, isolated time, guilded minds.

                Mother's ghostly justice encircles the savage
                pirates of the perfect emerald belt,
                their blades of steel storming the ancient ridges
                valley to valley, to the great seas, sacred
                seeds, flying gypsies, left crushed on desert floors.
                In the teeming roar brass ears miss the future voices
                in the playground, seeds for whom they kill.

© Eric True

Ain't doin nothin at all
Just answerin the call
Kinda driftin away from it all~~~~~

Sunshine

Administrator

Member Empyrean

since 1999-06-25

Posts 63354
Listening to every heart

1 posted 2004-03-26 07:11 PM

                Oh fiber dreamers. Oh concrete toilers
                of the sad cities, messengers trapped in din halls,
                in the uprising throngs of haste with the head
                chiefs drawn faces of sworn allegiance -
                greenwoods call, call from the struggling seeds,
                show me your faces - sleep in my protest tent.

                Under the coins in the wishing well
                a myriad of faces hide, the faces of children
                their love communion
                to lacking ears, isolated time, guilded minds.

~*~

Oh, Wow...

Library, Sir, Library!

ThisDiamond
Member Rara Avis

since 2002-02-22

Posts 9353
Michigan, USA

2 posted 2004-03-26 08:18 PM

.

                Birds in the Beech trees, singing birds -
                whom no shelter covers, whose small wings wander
                the silvery arms of life, warbling
                sweet zest, melodies that ferry love songs
                to thrill the soul to the inner chambers, the old
                music of the woodland trails and the flight of fall Geese
                that bid adieu the scoured succulent harvest,
                throw their bright voices on the future's restless ears.

A striking write Eric, and the more I read your works, the more I savor them...but this stood out to me...partly because I prefer the tune, and partly because it was peacefully placed as the balance and hinge in the choas of the world.
Wonderful.
TD

iliana
Member Patricius

since 2003-12-05

Posts 13434
USA

3 posted 2004-03-26 08:57 PM

Gadzooks! What a power write! We here sleep in the protest tent as long as there is a PIP and our words are free. I'm going to have to read this again; there's so much to it!

[This message has been edited by iliana (03-27-2004 01:19 AM).]

Enchantress
Member Empyrean

since 2001-08-14

Posts 35113
Canada eh.

4 posted 2004-03-26 09:04 PM

WOW!! An amazing write!
Straight to my library with this keeper.
Hugs~

~The breeze that kissed you on the face,
Has held me in the same embrace ~

ethome
Member Patricius

since 2000-05-14

Posts 11858
New Brunswick Canada

5 posted 2004-03-26 09:05 PM

Thank you so much Karilea for the quote and the library..........You know how much I appreciate it.

Thanks This Diamond......These words from your pen are right on, "it was peacefully placed as the balance and hinge in the choas of the world" that is the basic gist of it all although there is protest in grievance in there.....I truly appreciate the read and the response.

Eric

passing shadows
Member Empyrean

since 1999-08-26

Posts 45577
displaced

6 posted 2004-03-27 04:26 AM

a masterpiece

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