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Paradoxes, Poetry and Pandemonium.

BlackCaramelCreme said:
No worries. *Raising hand* I confess to be one as well.
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How be the weekend treating ye? :cool: I been shuttling between a desire to go all out working or stay at home, coffee, and a book? :eek: All freaking weekend.
End result, ended up doing nothing except browse Lit. here and eat and sleep. lol
 
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sneb said:
How be the weekend treating ye? :cool: I been shuttling between a desire to go all out working or stay at home, coffee, and a book? :eek: All freaking weekend.
End result, ended up doing nothing except browse Lit. here and eat and sleep. lol
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Be careful, as addictive as it may be, there is life *dare I say it* outside of Lit...be sure to get out. Stop allowing this place to dominate your day. I'm trying to wean myself off here some. Real life demands it.
 
BlackCaramelCreme said:
Be careful, as addictive as it may be, there is life *dare I say it* outside of Lit...be sure to get out. Stop allowing this place to dominate your day. I'm trying to wean myself off here some. Real life demands it.
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That is true. But actually, I needed to stay at home though. I am balancing out what is to come next week and till Dec. :eek:
Two research visits and three exams. :mad:
So I thought I will balance it out by doing nothing else. haha!
How's your reading coming out to be?
 
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sneb said:
That is true. But actually, I needed to stay at home though. I am balancing out what is to come next week and till Dec. :eek:
Two research visits and three exams. :mad:
So I thought I will balance it out by doing nothing else. haha!
How's your reading coming out to be?
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I am waaaaaay behind on it and yet I am here...
 
BlackCaramelCreme said:
I am waaaaaay behind on it and yet I am here...
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That is perfectly fine. I am supposed to be finishing off the Sapiens but it is so layered, I read a bit and with my waning concentration levels I just jump to some utterly unrelated stuff. haha
 
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sneb said:
That is perfectly fine. I am supposed to be finishing off the Sapiens but it is so layered, I read a bit and with my waning concentration levels I just jump to some utterly unrelated stuff. haha
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I am at the point where I fall asleep easily. Me being still, in a comfy spot will put me out like a light...lol
 
BlackCaramelCreme said:
I am at the point where I fall asleep easily. Me being still, in a comfy spot will put me out like a light...lol
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Being able to sleep easily is a necessary skill to have. I sometimes cant sleep till 4, there have been days where I been awake till 5 and then have just started work for the next day. :eek::eek::eek: Still cant think how I can function like that.

Ps: check this link out. Finest collection of literary stuff, essays, articles, reviews, books, etc. http://aldaily.com
 
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Poem : well strung guitar


The leaf to my heart,
well strung guitar, I wait with bated breath;
Please hasten up for foreplay,
for it is my time to dance.

Write me my story, your trembling tips,
sing me my breath,
for it is time, between my lips.

The wind has broken over my window,
I can imagine the sun and its setting glow,
for it is time, for the last leaf to fly to me.
​
 
Pandemonium : sound of our ghosts


The sound of our ghosts
buried deep within my chest,
they seep out with their soliloquy,
a thousand songs everyday,
our drama along the end dances,
the morals, the fables,
their silver grins,
they remind me of the festival in the past,
when we were young, mistaken;
love was how love lasted,
and the chapters done.

The sound of our ghosts
buried deep within my empty chest,
you took my soul when you left,
remembering the blood that fateful day,
I bled to the doorstep as you whisked away.

​
 
Pandemonium : not yours, to experiment

His voice was low, but it wore the heavy summer evening breeze,
"I see men fight all their lives, and by the time
their fights end, they no longer remember what they started it all for.
They are shadows of their past, flitting to haunt our houses of memories.
I see them fail, and cry and turn about, I see them start again the next day;
After the fallen night, I see them smile a new dress for it again is a morning.
And to them it is a new beginning.
But I am not them, my men, I am not like you.
I do not break and by morning, walk with a tape to my heart.
I do not heal, my wounds open with each thread of breeze, of a whisper of you.
I do not mend, I am not your another toy, God.
I do not sew, my soul is not your experiment, I am not yours.
I am not sure if you exist. But then,
my wounds are my face, they smile when I bleed,
they sing as I am stung from the new defeat, again, the same hurt today."​
 

If you came like a slow breeze beneath my ears
with my lips I would reach out, gently stretched,
a kiss the falling breeze becomes in time.

Dressed in sliver light if you came and fallen stars,
from the cold night I would shiver upwards to touch the sky.

I am at a shore, gazing at the bobbing light blobs
floating over drunk waves; if you came in sleep
I sift from land to sea and to your voice would ride.

From between the clouds if you came like breaking light
the eager flower I would be, waiting for a kiss to bloom;
Let the naked earth gather petals and in colors be shrouded,
letting the place to scent I would be the last one to unwind.

​
 
Poem : she is deep into merry


Deep into merry she lisps without a hitch,
The gloss becoming for pleasures;

But, the reveries bring out her agony;
You simply pranced through her windows,
In so many ways, each a stable we all cried for.
​
 
Poem : ghost and pleasures


There is a ghost in my life,
there is a concealed pleasure in my walls,
there is a chasm under my bed,
and the wild grass grows above my head.

The drinks boil over the kitchenette
as do the chicken by the oven.

There is a shadow of myself that lives with
I make love to in the horrors of the midnight,
my shivers gets my shadow off.
​
 
Sneb, what lovely poems/musings. You have a wonderful way with words.
 
Taten said:
Sneb, what lovely poems/musings. You have a wonderful way with words.
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Hi Taten,
Greetings ! And welcome to my little corner in here. Your words humble me and I offer my gratitude. I am still learning though and would strive to better myself.

I hope you are having a good day :)

S.
 
What's the saying....practice makes perfect. You keep writing and I'll keep reading:)
 
Taten said:
What's the saying....practice makes perfect. You keep writing and I'll keep reading:)
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That sounds like a classic deal. Do you also write? Be it any form? :)
 
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Not a writer, but I do go through periods of writing random musings:).
 
Taten said:
Not a writer, but I do go through periods of writing random musings:).
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Which is what I do, or for that matter, everybody here does. Build a corner for yourself then and make it your home in here. :)
It be just a thought. :) Either way, just writing is more important. :)
 
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Paradox : program



Son, climb down the hill, the short side,
slide down, the leaves strewn carelessly.
Son, reach down the foot and make a run for your hut,
find your mother and run to the city, make it big by tonight.

Father, I have a heart and a soul, while you lay to die,
how can I desert these soiled clothes of yours and rags tattered hanging ?
Father, I shall not leave your troubled self on this baked hell,
find your will and let us walk home, or even trudge! Father please fight!

Son, I have had my share of fun, be not of worry for my life.
My time has come when I must, for good wish you well and leave.
I have left enough for your mother and you, and this land,
make her happy and you be too, far before the storms descend you decide.

Father, I am scared, for the nights bring wolves and their howls, winds they ride,
winds that cut into my skin and kiss my bones into cold. I have called up-
mother and she can not as well forsake your well being, I am sure,
father, we, I and mother need you, I have since learnt, we need you alive.

Son, in these cold winds that brush against my skin and cut through like a knife,
I have to tell the truth that weighs heavy on my conscience.
Son, how it has been so, you do not have a mother and I do not have a wife?
I am not your father and you are not alive? I have to, in this black room amend,
what is broken and into pieces, put together your pieces of program.
Son, you are all of these running characters on this blackened screen and in my mind.
​
 
Pandemonium : monsters awakened


The tricks are simple and have evolved,
The choices are many, but on a wane,
The stories shaken and beliefs broken,
The mysteries and their horrors resolved,
The chapters ended, The titles become the bane.
The secrets are naked, from the pocketed truths,
The lands are cracked and monsters awakened.​
 
Poem : bury not


Do not bury your whispers
under the weight of winds,
learn how to ride
them, and break out of the waves.

Break like the sky
on the bleeding moon,
bleed with that light
on ocean skins.



​
 
Paradox : broken gods



A broken man prays in his dreams,
a love-torn woman lays for his whims.

Approached equally, adroitly borne,
the inscriptions stink of broken religions.

A hungry mouth on his deathbed feeds-
all of what his mind can build.
The tired mother has her children-
on the earthen floor, she shakes in disbelief-
at what her faith has come to be;
In times of such darkness, her gods have turned to weed.
​
 
Poem : ravishing



How would they see,
she, that dove in her mid flight,
how would them feel,
in her ebony smile-
has my riches stolen.

Bared to afternoon lethargy,
our bodies marry and mar
the zeal to step behind,
maybe as she turns the other side
I leap to my throes and ravish-
my darling dove, in her flight.


​
 
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Poem : make me love, yours tonight



Rain me like that storm
Burn upon with your blaze
Cut like violin, your choirs
Drown me out in you
Fashion me with your daze
Complete me with your lips
Bring the skies down, you
Tread me as you breathe
Tremble me like you shiver
Dance me to the end
Dance me, harbor my body
Read me like you see
Make me yours, love tonight.

​
 
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