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Teen Poetry #2
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Junior Member
since 2000-02-28
Posts 28

0 posted 2000-03-02 03:25 PM

This one, though neither written for nor about her, is dedicated to a little Dove.  As she knows well, lost love to a poet is a terrible thing.  Enjoy:

Omnibus silence, foreboding unholy invention,
Horrid oratorio of mischievous goblins,
Tolls unchecked, without holy intervention,
Under the lonely, slowly ascending, harvester’s moon.
Whispering, mist settles softly into sodden earth,
Soaking the saturated, silty, stagnant, swampy ground.
Distant lightning, harbinger to a break in the silence.

The earth heaves a sigh awaiting the oncoming storm.

Not observing, not caring, yet silently despairing,
The lone poet stands staring over the infant grave of his love,
His dark bliss, his golden sun, his bright star outshining the moon.
Unseen is her soft glowing, her pale brightness unknowing
Beneath Hell’s greedy, unforgiving, impenetrable clay.
Once a poet’s sole muse, now only a mind’s apparition,
Even her blind vision sheds an unnatural light.

Once banished memories now surface as sweet ambrosia.

In the infinite boundaries of a broken poet’s mind,
As an omniscient whirlwind, summer days glaze together,
Pushing, shoving, combining with the ecstasy of nights.
Woodland trepidations, like epic invocations,
Once providing nourishment to a poet’s ravenous pen,
Now serve to encumber the broken heart of a man.
Shattered dreams flee with goals, beneath the ground with lost love.

Tears fuse with rain to hide a broken heart’s failed intentions.

Shared moments, soft kisses, true love’s trivial wishes,
All plague this poet’s addlepated heart, broken mind.
Unanswered questions with unthought of conversations,
Seem to spring out as taboo in the poet’s lost selfness.
Times of sickness, times of illness, gone but will be missed.
They were times together, now times buried forever,
Entombed in the blindness of the recess of man’s deepest thought,

Past the moon’s last ascension, now in soft depression.

Withered trees whistle sadly on the whims of the wind.
Finally, nature decrees this stark silence to an end.
Unknowing, unhindered, but heart not unlimbered,
The poet still stands amidst nature’s fullest fury.
His mind too encumbered to allow physical worry.
Following God’s justice and Mother Nature’s mercy,
The poet fell blinded by a supernatural light.

Lost love, sad love, gone save for everlasting memory.


Wrapped in Earth's embrace lying;
God deemed an end to crying.
Such love deserved not sad goodbying,
So forever intervened.

© Copyright 2000 hailfellow - All Rights Reserved
Member Elite
since 1999-09-26
Posts 2621
Ontario, Canada
1 posted 2000-03-02 09:35 PM

This is absolutely breath taking. Are you sure your a teen? I am sure you would receive more replies to this piece of work in open or CA. If you would like me to move it, just let me know. I would hate to see such a wonderous work lost with few replies.
Nurse Crachet
since 1999-09-27
Posts 318
They know where I am!
2 posted 2000-03-02 09:46 PM

I agree this is breathtaking, what a talent you possess, keep writing please.
Senior Member
since 2000-01-10
Posts 682
San Jose, CA, USA
3 posted 2000-03-02 09:47 PM

Good God, hailfellow, how many dictionaries did you memorize?   This is excellent, and incredibly eloquent and descriptive. Keep up the good work!
Member Elite
since 1999-09-18
Posts 2534
Whole Sort Of Genl Mish Mash
4 posted 2000-03-02 09:53 PM


You've lured me out of my lair at CA and I am definitely glad I came.  This poem reads very much like Poe ... the attention to sound, the internal rhyme, the alliteration and assonance were incredibly well executed.  I would love to see your work posted in Critical Analysis.


Member Elite
since 1999-06-16
Posts 3850
In the space between moments
5 posted 2000-03-02 10:12 PM

<font face="Arial, Arial, Verdana" color="#CC3299" size="2">My lord....this is absolutley breathtaking!  You should definitely post this in a forum where it will be better appreciated..Jboulder is right, this does read like Poe.  You have a phenomenal talent.  </font><!signature-->

<font face="Arial, Verdana" size="1" color="#000080"> *Krista Knutson*

"Every moment marked with apparitions of your soul...." ~*Sarah McLachlan- Do What You Have To Do*~


[This message has been edited by Alwye (edited 03-02-2000).]

Junior Member
since 2000-02-28
Posts 28

6 posted 2000-03-03 12:05 PM

Marilyn: Yes, I'm sure I am a teen.  Although, I do wonder sometimes.  Seeing how you have already moved it about sans my permission, I guess I don't really have to give you permission at all.  I can't see several of the replies as they are in a forum to which I have no access.  Oh well.  I guess it's the thought that counts.  Thanks for the good comments, though.

Nurse: Thank you, and I think I will write for a little while longer.

Mistikman: The Romantics didn't use dictionaries, and neither do I.  I guess I just tapped into the right source for this one.  Thanks for the swell comments.

jbouder: I don't know about moving out of this forum.  Not many of my poems contain the assonance and alliteration that this one possesses.  Maybe I'll move.  I don't know.  Thanks for the comments.

Alwye: It isn't really all that good.  I kinda like it.  I don't know.  I guess I could post it in the Critical Analysis.

Okay, thanks again for all of the really nice comments.  Have a good night.


Junior Member
since 2000-02-28
Posts 28

7 posted 2000-03-03 12:18 PM

Oh, and I nearly forgot:  Thanks to jerome the mysterious priest for help with the title.


Member Elite
since 1999-09-26
Posts 2621
Ontario, Canada
8 posted 2000-03-03 12:33 PM

<font face="Arial, Arial, Verdana" color="#871f78" size="2">hailfellow...please refer to my reply to your e-mail for the reasons this poem was moved to the moderator forum for a short time. If you have any more questions about this issue please feel free to e-mail me. </font>

[This message has been edited by Marilyn (edited 03-03-2000).]

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