Open Poetry #1 |
The Story of Zebruq |
megatech Junior Member
since 1999-07-14
Posts 10North Aurora, IL USA |
I have just these two new poems to post. Thank you everyone for your kind words. This web-site is a wonderful find for the poet in us all. ------------------ The Story of Zebruq (part one: The seeking) Zebruq walked forward, orphaned as a boy. Questions and sighs through his mind, turning. Curosities pressed inward. Forward, face coy, Softly asking, “Of life, What is the meaning?” “I do not know,” Responded the stranger, of the boy in rags. Zebruq’s eyes looked down. The stranger turned to go, “But, I suspect no danger.” Then continued on his way. Zebruq went further into town. Another man he met Said softly, “It is of money, And sad it is, little rat.” Then, simply walked away. Zebruq looked a fret though the day was sunny. “I cannot believe that,” He held the thought at bay. “Sadness and Pain!” The woman shouted through clenched teeth. “This is what life brings!” She chased him away, with the stick she touted. He gripped his satch, and heard a bird singing. He saw a poet, sitting by the alehouse. To him, he asked his question. “Love and Beauty, Gentle and quiet.” Zebruq assumed the sauce had made this suggestion; and moved on, in duty. “Your answer lies Across the desert, Young one.” The stranger chimed. Zebruq’s eyes spied over days of dirt, Bright with sun, and wretched climbs. He began to walk, journeying to nowhere. Over sand, and shrub, through blinding light. Unable to talk, he saw the eerie tower. Lips dry and burnt, The town alight. “What is the meaning Of life?” his voice raspy. Collapse into the arms that had offered water. Far away voices singing, he awoke, bones achy. Delivered from harm, in the bed’s soft shelter. The Story of Zebruq (part two: Ezeerah’s words) The ancient man stood at the bed’s foot, saying, “I am Ezeerah, you’ve made it little cherub.” His voice was old, and in slight scold he asked, “Why did you come here?” Gulping for breath, and close to death, “I came to find the meaning of life.” Words spilled out, and in mild pout, “Then, along your way, what did you find?” “Nothing, and no one... nothing but sun and soil and hills and harsh stillness.” Ezeerah smiled, “Sweet child, You found so much more than illness.” “Don’t you see? The answer’s be. You’d see it to open your eyes. Life is and will to be just still whatever you make of it inside.” “For each his own life passes down so many things to cherish and keep. Always keep near and choices hear And you shall have the life you seek.” |
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© Copyright 1999 megatech - All Rights Reserved | |||
jfreak Member
since 1999-06-17
Posts 306Yuma, AZ, USA |
In part one you had a scheme, a weak one but it was okay. Part two though you delivered beautifully. I suggest if you are going to write another poem like this, read Balladeer's work. Take some pointers from his stuff and use it. He is without a doubt the best poet on this site and he writes most of his stuff in a story format. Look forward to more postings from you. Jfreak |
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lenny Member
since 1999-07-11
Posts 63front royal, va. u.s.a. |
I read most of this with great eagerness but I found the ending somewhat vague and anti-climactic. Unless you yourself are quite happy with the ending, perhaps a thoughtful adjustment would be just the thing to get this one into the higher bracket to which it seemed to be heading the whole time. Good luck. Smile... |
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