Paper Heroes
too long have I strayed
like a ship at sea,
cast gently upon shore
after shore
yet never finding the solace,
the peace that I yearn for.
at last my trembling fingers take
ink, and spirit
and let them run unbridled
weaving words into a haven,
walls with paned-glass windows
to let the light inside.
the heavens sigh, relieved
they will not be troubled tonight
by my earnest conversation
with the unknown.
I have captured it and pinned it
upon this paper
with an alchemist’s delight -
**These are shorter poems with no relation to each other whatsoever.... I guess this is kind of like Anna's Nonsense Poets, but I'm not planning on making more of these....**
A giant
3-21-07
A rather exaggerated account of being frustrated with an uncooperative poem.
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Obstinate words! refusing to rhyme,
Simply becoming a waste of my time.
Crumple the paper, drop the pen.
Don't even want to SEE that line again!
Why do I bother? The more I insist,
The more these stubborn syllables resist!
I'm no poet, why even try?
One more failed idea...I'll start to cry!
Sun baked brown soil of the earth.
Silence in its respite.
Resting, waiting…
Seasons passing, snow melting.
Soaking up the essence of the planet,
Storing up richness.
Waiting…
Rumbling.
Silence is broken.
Steel tines pushing dirt into rows.
A seed, spinning, falling.
Now nestled in a bed of brown.
Darkness closes…
The promise sleeps.
What is a poem? Is it something to hear?
Is it something to laugh at, something to fear?
Can it have angry thoughts, or even sad?
Can it have scary thoughts, and even glad?
What is a poem? Is it something to eat?
Something that talks? Something with feet?
Does it describe the happiest things?
Fun-filled weeks? Or an Angel with wings?
Does it take you off and fly you some place –
Where you never want to leave its side again?
Can it take you off on a far away land –
Where pirates live upon the sand?
(Now, I'm not a poet by any means. I can't rhyme words very well because I always seem to pick the wrong words to try to rhyme, and sometimes I dislike the structure of poems...however, there are times I just can't help but write one! I've no idea what you call this type of poem. Maybe free verse?)
All the treasure
In the earth
Gold and jewels
Nothing will last
At a touch
Crumble into dust
Gold turns dull
Silver will tarnish
Jewels to sand
All the treasure
On the earth
Green growing things