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12/31/2009 17:20:37   
  Verlyrus
DragonFable Boxcat


This has been way too long in coming.
My poetry is imagery, thoughts, emotion, and chaos, all mixed together. Some parts are supposed to be confusing. Many parts are meant to have multiple meanings.
Poems! Attaaack!



Comments and criticisms here.
Thanks for reading, and enjoy!

< Message edited by lordtomato -- 12/31/2009 18:34:25 >
AQ MQ  Post #: 1
12/31/2009 17:21:51   
  Verlyrus
DragonFable Boxcat


19.
watching everything fall out of place
every piece is from a different picture
to build up a corner, a side
and watch it fall to pieces.
what it could have been.
should have been.
would have been.
what the hell.
screw the world.
this puzzle is too hard.

to find a corner,
a part of the picture,
to see the fire and the lights,
in the silence and the pauses,
makes it all worth
trying for
again.

< Message edited by lordtomato -- 1/2/2010 10:06:44 >
AQ MQ  Post #: 2
12/31/2009 17:23:22   
  Verlyrus
DragonFable Boxcat


27.
nature cuts
the strings
holding up
commanding and
leading the
marionettes at the end
of the show.
the puppet looks up
and asks why:
why now
why this way
and nature replies,
kindly,
for your future
to be free,
to learn,
to explore.
and snips
the
last
string.
and you awaken.

you glance back at the hands of fate
sad to leave,
and the hands reach down and pick you up,
place you on your feet,
give you a push,
and you open your senses to the world.

you fall and
tumble haphazardly
like a drunk
you trip.
what a fool,
string less.

but then you wander off
the stage,
accidently out of
the box, the cage,
into the audience of puppets.
they open the paths from your eyes
to your mind,
and you see the man in the shadows,
the source of your being.

perhaps you see a forlorn abandoned puppet,
discarded on the side,
on the stage in the box,
strings cut,
dangling uselessly, eyes closed.
wondering where everything went,
wondering why, why now, why this way.
perhaps you go, pick it up,
give it a push,
and lead it off
the stage.
and the puppet show goes on.
AQ MQ  Post #: 3
12/31/2009 17:24:41   
  Verlyrus
DragonFable Boxcat


23.
wake up in the morning,
thoughts racing racing racing,
through the mind,
as though it forgot to dream.
chainsaws and cellos and homework and bathtubs and knives
and paintings and books and talk of yesterday and computers
and lights and electricity and life and
music.

gets stuck right there.
beating beating beating away
in the back of the head

stop.

clear the mind,
focus on the nothingness,
and drift away.

and come back to the world.
and the concert's over,
the race cars stopped.
the stadium quiet.

and the mind begins to coil
the burdens of the day.

< Message edited by lordtomato -- 1/2/2010 10:10:00 >
AQ MQ  Post #: 4
12/31/2009 17:25:43   
  Verlyrus
DragonFable Boxcat


20.
the moon watches,
obscured by clouds,
the twisting fire rolling flames flying embers
blackened wood charred grass grey smoke
alone.
and the moon watches
the clouds float by,
and shines through them,
no less diminished,
and tries to dance with
the sun.
AQ MQ  Post #: 5
12/31/2009 17:28:08   
  Verlyrus
DragonFable Boxcat


28.
the storm as a symphony.

light strings, quick, short, staccato,
the horns arise now and fade away.
the violins crescendo, faster now, while
the rumble of the timpani booms,
leaping out.
the horns again, the violin bows fly,
and the cellos draw out the stress,
lower, under everything,
the timpani lashes out again,
the cellos violins frantic in their dance
lit up.

the tree can stand it no more.
as a general orders his troops, the thunder shouts its commands.
the wind like a ram batters from one side then the next,
the clouds’ machine guns giving no quarter with their bullets of water.
the defenders are blown away in a gust, beat down by the rain,
once green, to rot, unburied.
the tree creaks. a branch falls.

the timpani tumbles back into the din,
roaring over the viols, the woodwinds, the horns,
the chaos.
and as if frozen, the music stops.

a lone cello sings.

the tree falls.
AQ MQ  Post #: 6
12/31/2009 17:29:20   
  Verlyrus
DragonFable Boxcat


reflection1.
The waves press on, over and over, will the sea end? Will the ocean run dry? Relentless in their crashing, unjudging, sweeping all away, the waves come in and out. What is there to do, but to wait until the wave goes out, to build a new sandcastle; for what can stop this force of nature? The tide might come in soon. But there is nowhere else to go, except into dreams, to let the water soak you, sleeping- and wait.




reflection0.
the world is broken, flying on crippled wings, going to fall, crash, get up from the burning wreckage, look around, and wonder what happened. and no one seems to want to try to fix it, not even the doom sayers. so let us fall together and enjoy the drop down. it'll be fun.




reflectionminus1.
Push forward, slosh forward, through the muck and grime, push through the thorns, the ivy, the flowers. The path is endless, the light is ahead, dangling out of reach, but almost there... almost there... and the lantern and flames skip away. And in the new darkness, a new flower grows. And it is beautiful, amazing, multicolored, yet simple. But blind, you cannot see it. Push forward. You'll catch the light yet.


AQ MQ  Post #: 7
12/31/2009 17:30:23   
  Verlyrus
DragonFable Boxcat


29.
nothing to look forward to.
no goals, no events,
no people.
stuck
inside yourself,
the walls are closing in,
the sphere of your mind is imploding,
the rush of dread is filling your heart-
but end it?
never.

the past may be filled
with heartbreak and agony,
the present:
with nothingness,
but there is always
the future.
AQ MQ  Post #: 8
12/31/2009 17:31:24   
  Verlyrus
DragonFable Boxcat


30.
the sky is bright today.
the wind carries itself across your path,
lifting you up.
you reach out your arms like wings,
hesitant at first, others might laugh.
close your eyes.
feel the lift, the cool breeze,
see the glow of the sky, the shadows of the clouds
through tight-shut lids.
smile.
and fly away.
AQ MQ  Post #: 9
12/31/2009 17:32:24   
  Verlyrus
DragonFable Boxcat


31.
when you close your eyes,
what do you see?
try it.
at first you focus on the lights in the darkness,
the arbitrary wanderings.
they drift, beautiful black on black,
seeming reds, yellows, blues.
and you do not realize that the sounds have emerged.
from outside, from the room, from other people.
the mental focus has relaxed the body.
you no longer strain to hear the distant bells,
the quiet conversation, the song of the wind.
you see the sound.
AQ MQ  Post #: 10
12/31/2009 17:33:27   
  Verlyrus
DragonFable Boxcat


loneliness0.
Sometimes you just don't feel like talking. They all seem to be having fun, but why join them? In your own mind, you are sacred, indestructible, perfect. You are uncertain about yourself in their eyes. Those laughing, joking, people, so different from the old. If you talk to them, will the world change? Will you forget your old life?
Why focus on the old? You can't go back: it's over. Everything is new now, you're supposed to be responsible, you're supposed to do things mature. The past was so certain, as is the nature of the past, while the future hangs by a string over your head. Does no one see this? How can they be smiling?
The flower, so short lived, it is gone. The lantern and flames have faded. You're blundering in the dark now, alone. And trying to find the promised field of flowers, where everyone else seems to have been born.
Dark shapes rush by. Dare you ask them for directions? What if they are monsters, waiting for hapless prey like you, to chew up and spit out? What if they are too haughty to help a lowly blind like you?
What if they are friends?
Note to self: Next life, bring a flashlight and extra batteries.
AQ MQ  Post #: 11
12/31/2009 17:34:27   
  Verlyrus
DragonFable Boxcat


a.Black&White

The Black side starts to march westward,
Saying goodbye and turning toward
The setting sun, they shoulder arms
And obey commands they’ve learned.

The White side fortifies the town,
The peasants all obey the crown,
They heft their bows and mount the walls,
Preparing for the strike.

As Black marches far from home
The sun crisscrosses heaven’s dome,
They sing and walk,
And cry and talk,
Of loved ones left behind.

The spies of White give their reports:
The soldiers Black are all those sorts
Who kill and steal,
This is for real;
And burn all good things to the ground.

A week more passes,
And in the town
The huddled masses
Are ready for the storm.

The sky grows dark, the shadows fall,
And through the night, the piercing call
Of horns drives on the soldiers Black.

The siege is readied, Black forms lines,
But the gates burst open, and through the pines
Of spears and pikes, the Commander sees

The White.

Tear-soaked eyes are blocked from sun,
From helmets, bronze, except for one,
The Captain White, his head is bare.

They fight.

And through the dust and screams of pain,
And over bodies of the slain,
The Captain White perceives the sense
That all this battle is in vain.

Commander Black has stopped his fight,
His ears prick up, the sounds, not right.
He hears the cries of men he knew
And those he didn’t: the same in night.

He halts his troops, he pulls them back,
They sob in pain, in grief, for lack
Of will, morale, and any hope,
And friends left on the field.

Captain White, he see their plight,
And thinks what would have been that night,
If neither side had gone to war,
If neither side just had to fight.

He groups his men, and without sleep
With bodies of slain Black they creep
Toward the silent camp.

With every single one lain out,
They throw down armor, swords and shout,
In anguish, sadness, and in grief.
They see themselves in those who died.

The last of Black meander there,
Lost and hopeless, they just stare,
As soldiers White, as though for own,
Decorate the fallen Black with care.

Both Black and White, they start to wail
Wordless thoughts hit all like hail,
They build a fire, large and bright,
and share their stories ‘til daylight.

As Black prepares to leave the White,
Commander and Captain, hands unite,
They look each other in the eye,
And understand:
No one had to die.
AQ MQ  Post #: 12
12/31/2009 17:35:28   
  Verlyrus
DragonFable Boxcat


32.
deep night cloaks the sky,
blocks the lights,
muffles sounds.
the stars shine on,
you think, but
clouds are in the way.
a train rolls on-
in the distance-
the sun has not yet
risen,
sleep takes you
by the hand
and leads you to
the rest
of dreams.
AQ MQ  Post #: 13
12/31/2009 17:36:28   
  Verlyrus
DragonFable Boxcat


33.
sleep overcomes.
your eyelids fall, over
and over again,
but snap back up,
not ready to shut.
awake, your life
rolls on
slowly.
asleep, your dreams
fly by
too quickly.
sleep.
sail into dreams,
and leave the world
in your wake.
AQ MQ  Post #: 14
12/31/2009 17:37:29   
  Verlyrus
DragonFable Boxcat


34.
misery crushes you,
darkness constricts you,
the heart restricts your
mind, your soul.
let go.
let go of the pain.
let go of the fear.
let go of the love.
and stand up.
stand up for the future,
for the past,
for the now.
the past changes all,
but you can change
the present.
AQ MQ  Post #: 15
12/31/2009 17:38:31   
  Verlyrus
DragonFable Boxcat


35.
the sky is white.
clouded.
the cold breath of air
swings by,
dragging behind a
small tail
of humidity.
wetness on your nose.
you look up.
and the rain
begins.
AQ MQ  Post #: 16
12/31/2009 17:39:33   
  Verlyrus
DragonFable Boxcat


36.
tell it your grief.
tell it your fear.
tell it your love.
tell it your pain.
tell it your wound.
tell it your joy.
it whispers back to you
quietly,
incomprehensible,
but still, the voice
of the air
comforts.
AQ MQ  Post #: 17
12/31/2009 17:40:34   
  Verlyrus
DragonFable Boxcat


37.
have you felt
depression?
the
neverending,
unextinguishable,
caused by nothing,
dread?
the misery you feel
for no reason at all?
you can try
to make things up
to justify
the pain,
but there is no end,
until you realize
what you're afraid of
is yourself. your
change, your
experiences.
you think, what
will happen?
you ask it to
the heavens,
but the answer lies
in you.
AQ MQ  Post #: 18
12/31/2009 17:41:35   
  Verlyrus
DragonFable Boxcat


loneliness1.
Everything has its own path, its destiny.
For some, their paths lead them to effortless happiness,
for others, it leads to tiresome grief.

Often, a path will suddenly twist and come out
of the shadowed forest into the bright fresh air...
or the other way around.
Stop on the path. Stop walking. Look around.

Behind you, the scenery is an arbitrarily focused mash,
a tree branch sticking out of the blur here, a rock,
its grey bright against the incoherent swirls.
You remember when you passed that river,
but can't recall the shape of the reeds,
that bush- but what were its berries?

Now look ahead. The terrain here is shifting, changing.
At your feet, the path seems to be materialized,
yet when you look a little further, it seems to split, cycle, twirl and mix.
Is that a tree to the side, or a bear, or now a mountain?
When you walk you often step quickly, trusting the ground to be there.
Will it always be?

Sometimes when you are walking,
your path comes parallel with others.
You all walk along at the same pace,
some maybe a little faster, some maybe a little slower,
but you can discuss the horizon, the places your paths have led you,
the ground at your feet.

And as your paths are parallel, you all wander through
the same grassy plains, over the same mountains, and cross the same rivers.
Sometimes the paths will grow apart.
Yet no matter how long passes, when you turn around,
they are still in focus, walking away, farther and farther away.
It's best to experience the stroll with others.

But is it right to try to become the trailcutter,
to rebuild paths that have strayed, to stop along the side of the road
and twist your own path around? Or are these detours merely the blurs of the road ahead?
At the fork, maybe the road you do not choose is false, a trick of the light.
You never could have chosen it in the first place. Perhaps
you cannot truly change the path, while the path changes you.

Yet even if it is just mirrors and illusion, let's pretend it's not.
Let's build a highway out from this dark forest and then meander through the fields.
AQ MQ  Post #: 19
12/31/2009 17:42:34   
  Verlyrus
DragonFable Boxcat


loneliness-1.
-Oh how I miss you. I miss your laugh, your smile, your kiss, holding your hand and walking down the street, laughing and talking. How I miss you. Just stting in the park, on a bench, watching the sunset, my arm around your shoulder, your arm around my waist, and we didn't need to talk. How I miss your smell, your dandelion hair in the humid heat, the breeze rushing by.
Oh how I miss you. Here, it's desolate, lonely, a wasteland. No one like you, no one like me.
-I think you understand me. You understand my thoughts, my eyes, my words. And it's true it was for the best, but still. I miss you.
I don't need you. I'm fine now, on my own. New people are interesting, with their stories to tell, and fears, and jokes, and pains. You obviously don't need me anymore; you laugh still as you always have, bringing back memories of those days, so far away now.
-I hold you in my heart. And I thank you. For the good times, for the fun, for the memories. For the love, for the friendship, for the laughter. Remember that one time? On the Metro, coming back from the fireworks show and concert? We sat together, close, in the crowded train. And as it roared on its tracks, I showed you my thoughts, I looked around. I spoke aloud.

All these people, right here, they have their stories. They have their inside jokes, their heartbreaks, their lusts, and their greeds. Think about it. They are all unique, their stories full of excitement and interest, but we'll never see them again. Do they enjoy their lives? Do they not? The world is so small, yet so large at the same time, for we all hold a universe inside each mind.
And you looked me in the eyes, nodded, and said, "Our stop is next. We should probably get ready."

-I thank you for the memories. I hate you and I for letting go. I know it had to be. I love you more for that.

And now, I board my train, and you board yours.
There's nothing I can do now.
AQ MQ  Post #: 20
12/31/2009 17:43:36   
  Verlyrus
DragonFable Boxcat


38.
what is music?
is it the beat,
the rhythm,
the notes or
the tones?
a combination
pleasing to the ear?
or is it the
unleashing of
raw emotion
violent or soothing,
the communication
of feelings
without words.
AQ MQ  Post #: 21
12/31/2009 17:44:36   
  Verlyrus
DragonFable Boxcat


24.
Shut Up.
don't want to hear it anymore,
don't want your lies, your tales,
your falsified apologies.
Just Say What You Mean.
spit it out.
i don't care.
nor do you.
I Could Care Less.
i wish.
AQ MQ  Post #: 22
12/31/2009 17:45:36   
  Verlyrus
DragonFable Boxcat


25.
break
from the world into sleep,
into dreams,
where you are invulnerable,
a heroic knight,
a legendary spy,
in trouble,
a dragon’s snack,
where you are digested,
into nightmares,
awaken,
coming back into
darkness.
AQ MQ  Post #: 23
12/31/2009 17:46:39   
  Verlyrus
DragonFable Boxcat


The Smell Before Rain
When the skies are grey with clouds and rain
not yet fallen, and the sun beats down from
some unknown point,
and the humidity clogs the nose like glue
and the wind doesn't help, it's warm like breath,
try to smell the air.
That fragrance, of water about to drop,
fills you, refreshes you, gets you off of the ground.
But the humidity shuts your sinuses,
and you lose the fleeting escape, the
epiphany of rain.
AQ MQ  Post #: 24
12/31/2009 17:47:39   
  Verlyrus
DragonFable Boxcat


Dagorhir
'Stay close!' you shout, through the noises of battle.
'Watch the left!' you hear, over thuds and yells.
You catch sight of the foe, he's huge!
you think, but you have no choice. Fight
or die, you ready your sword- standard issue
short and light- you raise your shield- to the chin!-
and clash. You dodge back from his first
swing at your legs, reaching over with your sword-
he's too far away. You circle each other, feigning,
testing defenses, exposing no opportunity for attack.
You feign right- he blocks with his shield off the ground-
So you swing down, and take his leg as his shield is up.
He's on the ground now, injured, but still fighting.
A lunge toward you surprises- you hasten to block with your shield-
too late you see the other foe- you feel the brutal pain of the spear in your chest-
And then it's over.
You walk to the tree, wait for some comrades,
and again rejoin the war.
AQ MQ  Post #: 25
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