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Open Poetry #40
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Grinch
Member Elite
since 2005-12-31
Posts 2929
Whoville

0 posted 2007-05-02 05:30 PM



When an old man dies a library burns down,
His words blown ashen to the windy world
That fanned his eyes to embers end
No tears can quench his sentences aflame.

When an old man dies a metaphor for truth dies too
And by our words with greedy lies
The world is raped by lunatics and time
And no tears now will turn that tide away.

When an old man dies a young man wails upon the world
And captures hearts and stars within his eyes.
The years will stack each poem upon a shelf
But no tears now will save him in from his end.

© Copyright 2007 Grinch - All Rights Reserved
serenity blaze
Member Empyrean
since 2000-02-02
Posts 27738

1 posted 2007-05-02 05:41 PM


Hey--no jumping in ahead of line, you!

I bought my ticket to ride a lonnnnnnnnng time ago.

And yanno, the first line of this was issued as a challenge a lonnnnnnnnnnnng time ago too!

Grinch? Reading you again is like having an early Christmas, no matter how dire the tone.

Welcome home, dawlin'. Be well.

(Have I ever told you my "library" dream?)

If I do can I lay on your couch?


Drauntz
Member Elite
since 2007-03-16
Posts 2905
Los Angeles California
2 posted 2007-05-02 05:42 PM


Death belongs to the Dark side, my dear.
Poets die but poems will countinue living. Poem is the spirit and soul of poet. If the spirit or soul still there, the poet will be there just in a different form. right?

Grinch
Member Elite
since 2005-12-31
Posts 2929
Whoville
3 posted 2007-05-02 06:27 PM



Karen,

I'll live forever (or die trying) and so will you.

I remember the challenge and sitting down to write a worthy offering - unfortunately this was all I could come up with. Since my muse bypass I've not written a line, I'm not sure if I ever will, but I still read and tinker with my old poems so you may find one or two edits from the original.

My couch is always available I'm an expert on dreams.

Drauntz

The memory of the poet lives but the body and mind of the poet dies and that's the bit I'm most attached to.

And I would trade a thousand years of fame
For two more minutes whispering her name

Drauntz
Member Elite
since 2007-03-16
Posts 2905
Los Angeles California
4 posted 2007-05-02 07:24 PM


"And I would trade a thousand years of fame
For two more minutes whispering her name"

whose poem is this?

iliana
Member Patricius
since 2003-12-05
Posts 13434
USA
5 posted 2007-05-04 01:34 AM


Whoa....this is a grinchy poem alright!  Much enjoyed your philosophical and wise rendering, Mr. Grinch.  *hugs*...jo
secondhanddreampoet
Member Ascendant
since 2006-11-07
Posts 6394
a 'Universalist' !
6 posted 2007-05-04 12:18 PM


I especially loved:

“When an old man dies a library burns down,
His words blown ashen to the windy world...”

as well as:

“...with greedy lies
The world is raped by lunatics and time...”

and:

“The years will stack each poem upon a shelf “

a fine ‘read’!

Applause!!

LeeJ
Member Patricius
since 2003-06-19
Posts 13296

7 posted 2007-05-04 12:38 PM


When an old man dies a metaphor for truth dies too
And by our words with greedy lies
The world is raped by lunatics and time
And no tears now will turn that tide away.


so true, you put tears in the reader's eyes

exceptional writing

Midnitesun
Deputy Moderator 1 Tour
Member Empyrean
since 2001-05-18
Posts 28647
Gaia
8 posted 2007-05-06 09:33 PM


"The memory of the poet lives but the body and mind of the poet dies and that's the bit I'm most attached to."
I just had to highlight this reply, as it is the definitive Monsieur le Grinch!
I happen to be equally attached to my earthly body and its endeavors, and know full well that anything remotely resembling poetry coming from my pen will more likely be used as wastebasket liners than treasured shelf spacers.

TomMark
Member Elite
since 2007-07-27
Posts 2133
LA,CA
9 posted 2008-01-07 12:41 PM


Poet's life stays with poem.
Good poem but again with sad tune.

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