Thursday, February 26, 2009
Homonym poem
Brenda Hillman wrote a brilliant poem called"Cleave and Cleave" which examines these words that sound and can be spelled the same but have opposite meanings. I'd like you to think of two words that are homonyms but mean different things. , e.g. lie and lie, stone and stone, bear and bear, write and right. Here is a complete list.Think of an emotional situation in memory that these homonyms might speak to, then imagine yourself "encountering" each of these words separately, in concrete examples- e.g. you are writing your name on a blackboard as a child, over and over; the sun is spilling in the window, fading the slate as you write. you start to think about your "right" to be yourself, and you look at your self, the clothes you are wearing, your hands, etc...Then bring both words together at the poem's conclusion, like Hillman, who dramaticized the words' opposite meanings by ending with two strong sentences: You might say, e.g." I will write my name over and over on the glass." Then, "I will disappear: my right."This poem is taken from The Practice of Poetry by Behn and Twichell.
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The dark cloaks the one who rides
Past the sea and past the tides
He is coming to help and save
People who need somebody brave
His armor is shining,
His helmet is too.
He fights for all
that is just and true.
He rides by the light of the moon
In order to reach his goal soon
The stars shine to show him the way
Since he has not time to travel by day
This brave and speeding silver-cloaked knight
Is hidden in the dark of the night
I remember in my mind very well,
the day I heard so clearly my aunts wedding bells.
She walked down the aisle, as pretty as can be,
I looked at the groom's face, filled with total glee.
I thought to myself how greatly her life would alter,
and hoped beyond hope that nothing would falter.
As all eyes turned to look at her,
my mind was suddenly nothing but a blur.
I remembered all of the great times we'd had,
and I was filled with a great sense of glad.
She would get married and live happily ever after,
the rest of her days would be filled with laughter.
As she waslked up right to the altar,
I knew in my heart that nothing would falter.
My Grandpa told me about back in the days,
When all the happiness disappeared in a haze.
The Depression was harsh,
And everything was scarce,
The economy was hard to raise.
He says everything cleared 20 years later,
They lived in a house, and even had a waiter.
After the economy went bust,
Banks no longer had his trust,
So he stashed all his money in his own cater.
5 years ago, his 85th year,
He called us over and wanted us to hear,
He gave us his home,
Every knick knack, ornament, and gnome,
His kingdom, us now his heir.
While looking through some of his things,
We were trying to sell, the bills needed paying,
A box we found, it was filled with cash!
It must have been Grandpa's cache!
The silver coins brightly shining.
Several years ago,
My Grandpa went alone
In a bar where he purchased ale.
On that fateful day
Marked the first of his ways.
He started to drink more and more,
By the couch, by the television, and by the door.
He never quit since then,
And he ended up living in his den.
He eventually put his almighty dollar
Towards this horrible poison which had him collared.
I never thought of him the same,
He only had himself to blame.
When he got very ail and tired
He said to me,
“In a better place, that’s where I’ll be.”
He died that night,
But I will never forget his fight.
He became oh so ail,
Because of that night of too many ales.
The wind blew thought the town
Everything became lost and nothing could be found
The little town right by the sea, took the fight
The people hit back with all their might
Wind won,
No can say that day was filled with fun,
Things were scattered and ripped to shreds,
No one could lie in his or her bed,
While, destruction was just around the bend.
When all was said and done,
The cleaning had begun,
Then storm left, to have some more fun,
Blue sky came out, to delight,
And the waves forgot their might.
How pretty that sky was,
Never to be forgotten ‘cause
The pretty purples and blues used
The sight of it all mused
All, but the cranky old man
Who would always swat anyway a stretched out hand.
Forget the damage, remember the beautiful sight
With all of your might,
For nothing is more gorgeous than the sky right after a battle,
The beauty that lies within something that one must stop and stare, but do not tattle,
For no one would believe the beauty that you have seen.
The wind blew thought the town
Everything became lost and nothing could be found
The little town right by the sea, took the fight
The people hit back with all their might
Wind won,
No can say that day was filled with fun,
Things were scattered and ripped to shreds,
No one could lie in his or her bed,
While, destruction was just around the bend.
When all was said and done,
The cleaning had begun,
Then storm left, to have some more fun,
Blue sky came out, to delight,
And the waves forgot their might.
How pretty that sky was,
Never to be forgotten ‘cause
The pretty purples and blues used
The sight of it all mused
All, but the cranky old man
Who would always swat anyway a stretched out hand.
Forget the damage, remember the beautiful sight
With all of your might,
For nothing is more gorgeous than the sky right after a battle,
The beauty that lies within something that one must stop and stare, but do not tattle,
For no one would believe the beauty that you have seen.
She walks in the room
And commands your attention
You can’t help but stare
She is glorious
Radiant
Graceful
And strong
She is confident
Intelligent
All-knowing
And wise
Her smile eases your pain
Her glare makes you shrink
She leads
And people follow
There is not explanation why
It is miracle of nature
A gift she is born with
That nobody can take away
The air of the heir
The room was quiet
Except for the puff of the air
Whisked through the nose
Into his dying lungs.
The sun shone on his wrinkled cheeks
And warmed his cold soul.
He was a stone
Balancing between life, and the creek below.
Three withered roses
In a vase of murky water
Sit silently in the corner
As though they feel it too.
I was not in a paradise
Or a graveyard.
The pity of the moment
Engulfed my toddler heart.
My tiny hands wanted to touch the hard, rocky surface
But couldn’t.
Like curious want to feel a fire,
But the knowledge of the effect.
And so I watched in wonder at this pretty stone,
In silence
Wanting to know
But I did not question.
My mother said not a word.
She gazed with the most peculiar look
At me or at her grandfather
I will never know.
We left the room
My mother’s expression switched.
The door began to quietly creak
As my delicate stone sank into the creek.
It was a quarter past eight
Dinner we just ate
Although our dinner plates were bare
We were still as hungry as bears
The depression had us beat
All we ate was one beet
we didn't know what to do
Our bills were past due
If someone can change and meddle
For better, they deserve a medal
for that one day, possibly Sunday
Where we can feast like kings with sundaes
We will make due with what we have
with our money seemed in halve
Make our money once again go high
and please, make it hie.
Branches wavered in the wind
Tumble weeds blew about
Wind chimes sang out loud
Dust tornadoes came down the streets
And in the tree,
The babies cried out from the aerie
The baby eagles squawked at the airy
airy day
They could not withstand the wind much longer
Where could their mother be?
She was not in the aerie on this airy day
Where could the mother be?
The gusts worsened the wind picked up
Twigs started to loosen themselves
The aerie was falling apart
Where could the mother be?
The baby eagles ducked and cried
They moaned and whined
They could not withstand the wind
With one final gust
The small aerie was turned to dust
Where could the mother be?
The little baby eagles where in a quite a predicament
Fly or die
They jumped and spread their wings
Those tiny wings caught the wind
The eagles were airborn but had no control
The mother was screeching her aerie was gone
The babies were weeping their mother was gone
The wind was sweeping but was soon gone
The baby eagles lay sprawled out on the lawn
The mother saw that terrible sight
Her babies so calm
She dove down to the lawn
The day no longer airy
The eagle's aerie all over the ground
And the little baby eagles were safe
and sound
Sitting in my drive way
With only a bouncy ball
I sit there is silence
Heaving it against the brick wall
I heave it with a stronger force
Against the brick wall every time
For every time I throw it
I feel so alive
But as soon as I lose my focus
About catching the bouncy ball
It hits me in the face after bouncing off the brick wall
I start to bawl and crawl towards the door
To seek some help from my brother whom I adore
He tells me not to bawl for I will be okay
So I go back out to my drive way
As I sit there
With only a bouncy ball
I sit there is silence
And pick back up the bouncy ball
Because I have confidence that my brother will never again receive a bawling call
Because I will now always focus on the bouncy ball
There once was a man
That was ravenous for power
His name was Dan
Dan inhabited a tower
One day
Dan went to the sea
Just so he could play
With his friend Louie
Dan loved the sea so much
That he decided to take
All that he could touch
But that was an immense mistake
Dan desired control
Over these seas
So he stole
Them with great ease
But Dan did not know
That the seas
Would not bestow
Him with things that would please
On a lovely day
Dan was in his tower
That was by the bay
So the seas started to show their power
With great waves
The seas rebelled
They would no longer be Dan’s slaves
And they propelled
Dan’s tower
Into their depths
That is why Dan is no more
He tried to
Seize the seas
I looked up to the icy sky,
Wondering what it’d be like to fly.
A cool breeze carried the leaves,
As I walked on through the trees.
I continued at a steady pace,
In no need to run so fast as if in a race.
I gazed up at the sky,
I felt the cool air go by.
The sky was so perfectly blue,
I liked the smell of the wind that blew.
I stand.
Where?
Here.
A now baren wasteland.
Oh but time does tell a different story.
It always does.
Our actions’ repercussions are always weaving themselves
Throughout our lives, and they help to determine
Where we have been and where we are going
The story of time is never ending.
It is not made of pages or even chapter but rather of acts.
Acts that will impress upon history forever more.
Again, I stand.
Upon a once beautiful rain forest.
Lush and flowing with life.
Its innocence penetrated to its very core.
The acts of another changed this rain forest though, forever.
With their axes they came and chopped it down.
Stripped away its life as well as a symbol for peace and balance.
This destruction has changed lives forever.
Although seemingly unlike but by sound,
axe and act are not so dissimilar at all.
Through acts like a use of an axe we make an imprint on the world
And change our Earth forever.
In the forest there was many scents
Until there was the slightest sense
A long sound heard seemed amiss
But nothing occured in this bliss
All of sudden from out the trees
A animal came a great black steed
Racing on a single path he rode
Down through forest onto the road
Through the forest and to the seas
The animal ran on, no one could see
Oh, the animal has it own tale
But now it rides back into the vale
A ship on the ocean
Tossed about in commotion
Although the wind it blew
This little ship stayed true
Until up a head a break in the storm!
The captain he shouted "come on lets get warm!
With blue skies ahead
and nobody dead
They floated with the wind
That blew them back home
Concealed by the trees they play
In a world considered fey
By those who do not understand
Their mystical home within our land
Those who love this world so unique
Are the fays that live there
Who dance in the creek
Tiny body and little wings
With a voice like a bell when it sings
We feel their presence
We know they are here
But into thin air they vanish When ever we get near.
So in the wood concealed by trees
Is fey beautiful home of the mysterious faeries.
I gazed upon the beautiful glade,
Feeling the rain,
Feeling the rain.
I gazed upon the beautiful glade,
in the horse-drawn sleigh,
Holding the reigns,
Holding the reigns.
I gazed upon the beautiful glade,
in the horse-drawn sleigh,
the rain it was gleaming,
Feeling the rain,
Holding the reigns.
I looked back,
seeing my life,
as a young boy
in the rain.
I looked back,
leaving my body,
of an old man
in the rain.
I gazed upon the beautiful glade,
seeing the past that I had made.
In this beautiful glade,
there stood a small boy.
I gestured he join me,
in my horse-drawn sleigh.
The boy left the glade,
approaching the horse-drawn sleigh,
the rain gleaming on his face.
And what I saw was myself.
I saw myself, and at this point I realized,
Feeling the rain,
Feeling the rain,
I handed down the reigns.
I know that it hurts
When the truth comes out
But the real truth’s
That I’m sorry that I lied
I tried to lie low
And let the wind blow
But that’s made me start to die
I learned the hard way
That when I do things my way
Your lies make you lie down
You get covered up
Under all that you build
And all the wishes of the Devil
You’ve fulfilled
Now I’ve got to say
You can’t just sit down
You can’t just give up
Or else you’ll drown
And all your troubles
You started won’t stop
It seems easy to lie
Or to ignore the truth
It seems easy to lie
And to just sleep through
But lying and lying
Will only bring crying
And sorrow to your mind
The window pane pronounces the light of day,
leaving the pain of the night to fade and decay,
left to linger are the memories of the stars,
within the dark their light is ours,
they flicker like hope though fallow in fear,
of being left in the dark with no one near,
hiding safely within my eyes,
nestled in my heart, illumatinating my lies.
bare and cold is the night,
until I see their peircing light
The fly flies too
An eagle soars seemingly without a care
up
up up
in the air
freedom is what is shouted as the eagle flies by
but the fly flies too
An airplane flies higher then high
and people on the ground dream of flying in the sky
but the fly flies too
The air is always fresher where we are not
Why can’t we be content in our spot?
for the dirty fly flies too
Is it really so grand and free up there
up
up up
in the air
for the fly flies too
Flying is grand and the only true freedom,
only the free animals can fly
But the dependent fly flies too
life can be scary it is true
it is so easy to go askew
decisions to make
With no room for mistake
life can be scary it is true
I am here to tell you a story
about a child the size of morning glory
She had a fear of making a bad decision
THus he always thought through ideas to the extreme causing internal collision
life can be scary it is true
it is so easy to go askew
decisions to make
With no room for mistake
life can be scary it is true
One day he came to a metaphorical fork in the road
and had to make a decision that could effect even Alfie his toad
RIght, left
Right,left
Right left
Which way to go
She did not know
Right, left
left, right
Right
Right
Left
Right
To make the wrong decision could change her whole life
and cause quite a bit of strife
Was right, right?
life can be scary it is true
it is so easy to go askew
decisions to make
With no room for mistake
life can be scary it is true
Rap Tap Tap, Rap Tap Tap
Click, Click, Click, Clock
Boom, Boom, Boom
These must be the sounds of war,
I would not know, but my Grandfather did.
These must be the sounds of war,
Because I cannot bear to hear them today.
These must be the sounds of war,
Because it’s the last sounds he ever heard.
Rap Tap Tap, Rap Tap Tap
This must be the sound of pain a coming,
Army gentleman knocking on the door.
This must be the sound of pain a coming
I do not want to hear it any more.
Boom, Boom, Boom
This must be the sounds of honor,
The twenty-one gun salute to him.
This must be the actions of honor,
Wrapping him up in an American flag,
Which he honorably died for.
These sounds and these actions,
I never want to hear or see again,
Because the Rap Tap Tap
And the wrapping of the flag
It brings me too much pain.
I sit in school another day
Wishing I could go and play
In a place away from here
From this desk where I sit
I sit and reach new levels of bored
I wish I could leave and go to an ocean, to the water’s side
To a pier constructed of wooden boards
Where I can be carefree
As light as the air and as strong as the sea
But I am still just here at my wooden desk
The view out the window quite far from picturesque
There once was a handsome young lad
Who went by the name of Brad
He joined a troop of boy scouts
Who started to plan out routes
They set out to sell popcorn
Waiting for the sound of the horn
Brad wanted to win a new bike
But had to beat a kid named Mike
The both raced down the street
Neither ready to accept defeat
As he sold at ludicrous speed
Chad started to take the lead
When the competition came to a stop
The sales showed Brad on top
Not only did he get his bike
He was named “popcorn colonel” which he liked.
(Kernel and Colonel)
He was a child of just eleven,
Wanting to sail the seas of seven.
Wanting to fly above the waves,
Tightening the sails and manning the slaves.
Basking all day in the sun’s sweet rays
Out on the ocean everyday.
Tasting the sea’s bittersweet air
the wind blowing back his golden brown hair.
He was a boy of simply 15
Wanting to be on the seas so green.
Sailing away on his mighty great
ship,
Finding new lands and fresh friendships.
But he was just a boy. He was simply 15,
He worked in a shoe shop, no sea he would see.
His passion was sailing, if he’d the money he’d leave,
But for now he’d make shoes and he’d only grieve.
He climbed onto a treetop so far away he could see,
From the highest top of trees he’d gaze out to the sea.
He mind would wonder all the possibilities,
He wondered of the glory of being king of the seas.
He was a man, a strong 23,
All he wanted was be on the seas.
He tried for the money, but no
money was insight,
He’d get his belongings for he had lost his fight.
The sea did not call him or so it did seem,
The sea did not want him; he’d lost his only dream.
He left the town and he simply faded,
While he was gone the sad sea waited.
This man came home,
With a son of his own
15 lonely years later.
The father’s dream was fulfilled for he went off to see,
The great wonders that beheld him when he was off at sea.
The small son followed in his father’s ways
This boy knew all he wanted was to seize the waves.
But the boy was too young and so for now
he would sit atop that trunk of bark, and wish he could sit atop the mighty barque.
At the end of the day
as I trudge through the hall,
I sit and remember
the little red ball.
I remember one lunchtime,
like every other
I ate my sandwich
with the note from my mother
I waited and waited
for what seemed a long time
I squirmed in my seat
until I heard the high chime
We immeadiatly sprang
and ran out the door
We all headed straight
for the square cut in four
and that little red ball
laying on the ground
was passed to the King
and he prepared to pound
I stood in my square
concentrated and ready
the ball was coming for me
fast and steady
Before I knew it
the ball hit me in the nose
I fell to my knees
and looked at my toes
My eyes started tearing
and I could not stop it
I started crying and bawling
for I had been hit.
The ocean sprayed
Fresh salty air
Into my nose
And through my hair
The waves whirled
Confined to the sand
The sail boats
Drifted peacefully
And the whales,
Swimming
Breaching
Majestically
Ice cream melted
Onto the pavement
Under pressure
From the heat of the sun
The waves whirled
Confined to the sand
Hydrangea bushes
Swayed
Synchronized
With the breeze
Unlucky lobster
And crab
Incarcerated
By a warm, white
Plate
Black dogs
Gracing t-shirts
And shorts
With a comfortable
Familiarity
The waves whirled
Confined to the sand
My world
Where I cannot
Worry or hesitate
In my perfect world
The waves whirl
And swirl
Demolishing
Anxiety.
Staying on my grandpa's farm I will never forget,
There is no way to complete a day without breaking a sweat.
The work is hard and makes you weary,
by the end of the day you are quite dreary.
Around the farm you will never be bored,
you're either working or driving around in the Ford.
You need to go and fetch the board,
to cross the river, or you will end up ashore.
Work on the farm can be quite fun sometimes,
my grandpa is not one for modern times.
Everything is simple, except for his airplane, he flies it all around,
in that thing he acts like such a clown.
On it you will never be bored, to ride upon it you must board.
Working on the farm gives you character,
It makes you happy for the things you have after.
At the circus she sat,
Surrounded by elephants
and fancy propeller hats.
The juggler came out,
With his fire and his tricks.
She sat amazed
As he held her gaze.
She had an urge
To see the fire fly
Higher and higher into the sky.
But he would not drop it;
Upon Action she saw fit.
She launched her popcorn,
Laughing as the clown honked his horn
And the juggler missed his catch.
The fire hit the ground,
Causing a great sound
From those around
As they saw the tent go up in flames.
The juggler was furious.
And the girl was curious.
So she crept a little closer.
Following her path
Was a newly created sociopath.
He had his knife
And unicycle in tow.
The little girl all he knows
To be the cause of his failure.
He grabbed her by the dress
Fire in his eyes
There was no compromise
She had to die.
So, the crazy old juggler went for her jugular.
All my life
Being told what was
Allowed
And what was not
The “yes mam’s” and “no sir’s”
The “pleases” and “thankyou’s”
The bedtimes and curfews
Where you can go and when
What and what not to say
I’m tired
And restless
Of being told what to do
So now
I’m going to voice my opinion
Aloud
A light beams in
From closed up shades
Our eyes twitch open
Our dreams do fade.
Smiles spread across the faces
Of three young girls
Back from being many places.
We’ll open the windows wide
To welcome an autumn chill
and from a breeze we shall not hide
the birds’ songs will give a thrill.
We’ve made it through the week
And Sunday will be ours
For a day of peace we seek.
How about a stroll through the park
Or a lazy day indoors
But our interests that does not spark
We’d much rather spread our wings and soar
What if we tried the pool
For to not on such a nice day
We’d be a fool
Our bikes we’ll ride
Towels draped over shoulders
Three friends, side by side
Money in our pocket holders
And at the gates we’ll stand
Faces broadened with pearly whites
Anxiously waiting, hand in hand
Striped towels we lay across the chairs
Sun block lathered, glasses upon our noses
Pinned back are our hairs
The scent surrounding is of roses
And as we lay in the sun
A craving comes upon us
And, really, something must be done
At the snack bar, we pile on sprinkles and a cherry
Don’t forget the fudge, hot and thick
Our joys raise, our spirits are merry
Our ice cream we’ll gobble to the last lick
Now, on this Sunday evening, in peace we’ll sit
Sundaes in hand, ready for tomorrow
Eyes shining with whit.
Those times were great
Those times were fun
The days we spent under the sun
The gang together
There’s nothing better
To laugh and play
Those were the days
And how they flew
The days gone by
Spent in swimming, laughing, and water fights
And then, and then those summer nights
The nights we spent under the streetlights
Or sitting, joking by the firelight.
Perhaps we spent them deep inside
Enjoying each other just along for the ride
Those days are gone, the weather gone cold
They flew on by without a word
Two months, too short
How summer flies
It seems they went by in a daze
Oh, how I miss those summer days.
i raised my hand in class
i was saying in my head. "I know, I know!
but i only could think of the past
when the confidence was there,
but then i had to burn to ash,
my reputation down the drain
And now i start to lower my hand,
but i see my teacher starting to say my name, i think," no no no!"
but then my name came out of my teachers mouth.
when i realized, what i was about to do,
i started to close my mouth,
and my teacher yelled out,
"NO NO NO!"
I made a fool out of myself,
every time i am in school,
and i started crying, saying,"i don't know, i don't know, i don't know..."
Once there was a lady
Everyone in the town loved her
For she saved lives and helped those in need
The village people dubbed her a heroine.
She came off strong, relentless, and pure
But she had a dark secret
One that nobody knew
Every night, she would use some narcotics
Sit on her bed
And get sucked into the hypnotics
This was not something true heroines should do
If anyone found out, she would be declared un-true.
So the heroine decided to tell the truth,
For a true heroine is not one that is addicted to heroin.
Out to sea I go!
Waves washing me to and fro.
I've never been out to sail before
The salty smell teases,
The gusty wind pleases,
And i only wish for more.
Faster now faster!
I'll show this ocean who's master,
It feels as if i could rule the world.
You know, fishin ain't too bad,
But the smell just makes me mad,
'cause when I got a wiff, I hurled.
I hurled all over the pants I got on sale,
But it's no time to bail,
This sea needs to see who's boss.
So i kept on fishin,
but I was also wishin,
that my pants weren't such a loss.
The day was almost done,
I've gone and had my fun,
chilling in the sun.
That was the day I went out to sail,
The day that I hurled on my pants,
which i had gotten on sale!
the children were in a pair
while they went to the store
to buy fresh apples and pears
they met a man who couldn't hear
but with all the power in the world
as if the great Caesar were here
with their fruits they had to haul
bring them back from the store
to their house into the hall
now the kids were back to two
to do anything they wanted to do
There once was a man who juggled.
He worked for the circus.
The juggler was very good at his job.
The man became famous for his talent.
The man decided to include juggling knives in his act.
This proved to be a crowd pleaser.
Then came that faithful day.
It started out like any other.
The juggler ran through his act,
Until he came to his finale.
He juggled the knives with speed and precision
The crowd awed and cheered,
Then came a flash
That blinded the performer.
Then those knives fell down upon the famous juggler
And stabbed him in the jugular.
I will never forget the day my brother left for battle in the desert
I swelled with pride as I gazed up at him and the flag adorning his shirt
I thought he looked so cool and grand in his military disguise
Marching off to war with a gun in his hand and anticipation in his eyes
He was to be a great American patriot and we could not be prouder
The war would be glorious and great; he would be praised by every lauder
We did not fear the noble war for we thought it would be over quick
We did not understand the horrors that would arise or we would have found it sick
The day he left he looked so happy, confident and proud
An American Uniform he wore, he was a site that truly wowed
We cheered as he departed and walk aboard the jet
My family was happy and excited, not one of us did fret
He touched down in the desert in his big, bad aeroplane
In one week the show would start, they would begin the grand campaign
At home we watched the news with excitement and anticipation
We wanted to see the greatness and glory of his war this was our expectation
But the images we saw were horrifying; the war was not what we had thought
The reality was awful, we felt truly distraught
Each night bullets flew and American blood was spilled
Endless numbers of soldiers were being shot at and killed
Indeed each day it was the same, it made me feel so ill
The entire nation was frightened by these images they gave us all a chill
Each night we tuned in the body count grow higher
Eventually we found out that the president was a liar
There were no weapons of mass destruction but still the number of dead increased
Each night I prayed that my brother would not be among the deceased
Eventually he came home shaken and disturbed
He was not the same as I had remembered, he always seem perturbed
Still they sent the him back again and again despite the nation’s opposition
The war never seemed to end; Iraq was always in transition
Each time he came back angrier more fearful and afraid
He had lost many dear friends, he was the last alive in his brigade
A few months into his fourth tour I was walking home from church
When I approached my home I saw a site that made my stomach lurch
Two soldiers stood in our doorway talking to my mom
I could hear her cries a block away my brother had been killed by a bomb
I felt numb and sickened as tears streamed down my face
I was enraged by the price my brother had to pay for our national disgrace
My brother wore a uniform; he was a patriot in green
He died in a senseless war; it truly is obscene
Over two years have gone by and yet my grief never goes away
He is gone and all I have is hope that this war will end someday…
I am alone
I have no knight to save me
I write on my wrists
and cry tears of blood
I have lost everything
My family
My friends
Myself
Everyone can help me
But no one does
They only care about themselves
Why does no one care?
Soon I will be gone
Lost to the darkness of the night
No one will cry
No one will mourn
No one will notice my absence
Soon I will be free
I watch in silence,
because this can't make sense.
I attempt to be good,
But this is one bad mood.
I look upon the floor,
As the cops come through the door.
What a terrible atrocity,
Done with such ferocity.
And I think to myself;
What terrible acts,
Committed with an ax.
His mother looked at him
Fostering a loving gaze
Not noticing the eyes that dimmed
Their relationship, their maze
Rays of light reached down to hug the Earth
Touching it’s flushed cheeks
The Earth unable to conceal its mirth
It shied away, not to speak
The Earth looked to see her
To see his sun, his mother
She looked at her son, as if to holler
I love you as mush as I love your father
The son looked at his mother
Noticing her pride
In how he was home to life and what was inside
He watched his mother shine down upon him
The son loved his mother
And her vibrant rays of color
The sun
The son happily ever after
In an age before I, there was a child born with three eyes.
He asked himself why, he had three eyes and he wasn't like other guys.
On the back of his head there was his third eye, I don't know why?
The child learned to like his eye,
he said it was quite handy,
in his memoir called 'My eye is Dandy.'
What’s happened in my past,
Stings worse than a heartache,
A feeling that will last,
Despite my constant wishes
That it will go away.
The memories are trapped inside,
The reservoir of pain that I keep,
Where bitter thoughts abide,
And the thoughts I used to have,
Hide.
I am condemned without redemption,
With a dam blocking the nerve I used to have,
And without an intention,
I’ve damned myself to a world
I don’t understand.
The dam holds back what used to define me,
The black stains upon my life,
That stripped me of my dignity,
And the person I deserve to remain,
Or used to be.
The dam has damned my chances,
And the vindication gone,
Without seconds glances,
It’s the knowledge
That this is the end.
The world can change though,
With my sights set on something new
It just goes to show
That people can change,
No matter what.
I’ve set my sights on a new site
Where redemption will come,
And where with no slight,
I will be able to recover
From this damned emotional dam
I have my sights set on destruction,
To blast apart my dam,
And with pain reduction,
I’ll let my world expand,
And let others in.
The ripple effect is very real,
When one action affects us all,
And what I feel, you feel
When one single drop,
Can move an ocean.
The site of the dam is a damned sight,
And one that isn’t wrong,
But isn’t really right,
It’s something that shouldn’t be,
But is.
Watch your emotions whirl,
Around in that silly reservoir
Watch your life unfurl,
Letting go of those things,
That don’t really matter.
What happened in my past,
Stung worse than a heartache,
But holding it all fast,
Was killing me so much faster,
Without trying.
Heartaches can be exactly what you need
When you’re trying to find yourself,
Love will be what sets you free,
And the sparkle of precious treasures,
Lost to view
The damned dam, holding back the memories
Splashing about with indifference towards pain,
All the ‘what ifs’, ‘yes buts’, and ‘maybes’
Are thrown casually aside
And die.
They are replaced by the site of sights,
Set far forward rather than backwards.
Forever shining lights,
Leading me on,
To greater heights.
The heartaches no longer haunt me,
The ripple is radiating out,
But the reservoir is empty,
The dam has been broken
And there’s nothing left inside
All the emotions that once abided,
Have evaporated,
Or disintegrated,
Subject to reconciliation
Or possibly vindication
No longer have dammed emotions
Given off damned notions,
And we are all free.
To be who we need to be,
The end must come one day
A day that you don’t throw away.
There was this man named Barry, he was very very stupid.
Barry was stuck in a forest,
He was very very hungry
So Berry ate a big, red berry
Big, red berry was poisnous,
So Barry was buried.
Ramparts and the Mongols
For a time they saw nothing
The hills rolled twistedly toward the horizon
Pines threw themselves into the sky
Their strong stems hard as the rock they grew on
The hills were steep and unforgiving
Tangles of weed clung to the loose rock
Green covered the hills but it was all moss
And the clouds ever present like skiffs at a dock
Weather was always balmy
Rain and mist chilled the marrow
Dark grimness twirled interminably
It dampened our blades and the shafts of our arrows
Infinitely the stone ramparts stretched
Into the misty distance
For the steppe riders need no rest
Their food is our decadence
We hung to life as the winter past
Wind from the tundra chilled our faces
Froze bit so hard it splintered our weapons
And the steppe rides waited while lives we waste
Moisture seeped into the very stone
Every solider seemed to moan
Eating leather and boiled pine cones
Knowing that against the stepped riders they were alone
The band played.
The glorious, controversial music
Bringing life to the soul
To the mind
Making the noise, making the list
Taking each day one at a time
Going through the motions.
I made the band.
I played the trumpet.
I forced the music out of me
I played in the band.
The book was banned.
They didn’t let them read it.
We read it the book.
We made a report.
I cried.
The day they banned the band.
I remember a time not to long ago
When I had two pet ants who I named Ant and Aunt
(As you can tell this actually happened a long time ago)
My sweet little Aunt always stayed in her glass home
Same did the kind little ant named Ant as you will read
One day I came home from school in such a panic
Because there were no longer just one set of ants
But there were two
My pet Aunt or my pet Ant had had children
Now I had 100 pairs of ants that I could name Aunt and Ant
get everything out of the cache
there's going to be a clash
they're after the cash!
don't let it be turned to ash!
stash, slash, and smash if they dash
don't do anything rash or else you'll be trash
if we suppress this distress then we'll have success
I breathe into my hands, faded and worn
Bleak and dismal, sky thunderous and torn
Shut the gate and move on
Lock the doors and wait till dawn
I smooth over my hair, must be an unsightly gaze
Time doesn’t bring laughter us; friendship is a trying thing to raise
Forget and make anew
Those who remember us are few
Raze and raise
Raise and raze
Partially my blame
I take ownership and shame
To raise you and out of insecurity
Then slander and lessen your name
As I sat on the couch, watching lumberjacks,
cutting down trees, with a mighty ax.
I was thinking, in amazement, and while I was awed,
thought the program was quite odd,
I changed the channel, I saw on television,
a courtroom process, in session.
A man in the court was standing,
the arms of this man were rapidly moving,
he was shouting aloud, with a look in his eye,
which seemed peculiarly awry.
A man was sitting up on a chair, with a gavel,
He hit it, and all in the room seemed to shrivel,
He cleared his throat, waiting a few while,
and asked if the man had any proof on this file.
At that time I switched off the TV, you see,
And went to pour myself a cup of tea,
Hi, i was absent wednesday, and makeupwork has to be done two school days from absence, and thursday passed, no school friday, and now it is done.
I often find myself wondering,
Shocked and bemused,
Why he acts this way?
How can he act this way?
He’s left, then right,
Sweet, then sour.
He’ll leave me alone for weeks
Without reason or explanation
Only to expect things to pick back up.
He does such things to me
I just can’t believe he acts this way.
Then on the news,
This guy took an axe
To his wife.
I find myself wondering,
How could somebody do that?
Why would somebody do that?
He waited until she was in the shower,
Then he just washed the blood
Down the drain.
He did such crazy things.
I just can’t believe he used that axe.
He acts so odd,
That man used the axe,
How could they?
Why would they?
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