Dark Poetry #2 |
A refreshing change |
Walter Poe Senior Member
since 1999-10-13
Posts 787 |
It was the night a world apart And the darkness did not conceal the brightness of a lovers heart It was a Place lost on the wind In the space between breaths Where all is known in the brief eternity All alone the nightingale sings Silent as the falling tree In the emptiest of the forests All around the space the mind A spiral returns to itself In a game set apart from the mass All the longing felt as a weight All the heat burning up inside What is the place we call home Feel the touch of beauty Taste the bitterness of truth Hold the girl in your dreams Can the whole exceed the dream Of the past as we have seen And the hold we cannot feel And we are the people Who stand in the light And withstand the wrath of the gods Fools and angels hold hands Over the fire and sinking sands All the love and all the lands The eyes see what the mind covets Space refracts in the minds corruption And the mice are silent in the night Vanguard of the New Movement Behind his polished cedar desk, surrounded by his phones, Sits Blazer Dyke(The yachting type), The vanguard of the clones. The Archetype, The number one,The vanguard of the clones. Crossing over busy street, where noisy traffic drones, Walks Blazer Dyke (without a bike), The vanguard of the clones. The autocrat, The ectomorph, The vanguard of the clones. He strides across the cobbled yard, Where pawn shops offer loans, That Blazer Dyke (Whom i dislike), The vanguard of the clones. The cannibal, The parasite, The vanguard of the clones. He passes through the wicket gate, To churhyards full of bones, That Blazer Dyke (on a midnight hike), The vanguard of the clones. The necrophile, The narcissist, The coprophage, The sybarite, The telepath, The Anti-Christ, The vanguard of the clones. Robert Rankin (The Dance of the Voodoo Handbag) |
||
© Copyright 2000 Paul Weatherstone - All Rights Reserved | |||
Janet Marie Member Laureate
since 2000-01-22
Posts 18554 |
It was the night a world apart And the darkness did not conceal the brightness of a lovers heart It was a Place lost on the wind In the space between breaths Where all is known in the brief eternity --------------- All the longing felt as a weight All the heat burning up inside What is the place we call home Feel the touch of beauty Taste the bitterness of truth Hold the girl in your dreams -------------- Fools and angels hold hands Over the fire and sinking sands All the love and all the lands The eyes see what the mind covets Space refracts in the minds corruption And the mice are silent in the night ------------------- fate's moment in time ... the moment of truth ... the truth of the matter ... the heart of the matter. sounds like you found all these things... beautiful poem of reflection and light walter perfect imagery another one of my favs of yours now... take care gentle poet jm What the caterpillar calls the end ... The world calls a butterfly ~LaoTzeTao~ ~Butterflies are meant to be free~ |
||
Jeremiah Johnson Senior Member
since 2000-06-08
Posts 1223Brooksville, Fl, U.S |
i enjoyed this one of yours alot though i have not read alot of your work i now plan to read more your a great writer and i hope to see more real soon. I'm a dying romantic and when i can no longer write i can no longer live -Jeremiah Johnson- |
||
⇧ top of page ⇧ | ||
All times are ET (US). All dates are in Year-Month-Day format. |