More poetry
Apr. 13th, 2006 09:27 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
alpharaposaI was surprised when ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
aefenglommung said he hadn't read any of my poetry. I would've thought I'd have shown him some over the years... I guess it's one of those things that just didn't happen.
So, that got my brain thinking, and I tracked down a mailing list of writers I used to belong to- where I posted quite a few poems. A few more below to the curious- these are more typical of my style, as they're all some variation of free verse.
Run
We begin-
Lope; easy paces
That start- stretch
Longer, swifter,
And slowly-
-slowly-
Slowly gain ground;
Reach free;
And we run-
-run, run-
Run with strides that
Pound the ground, with
Breath
That labors;
And the winds blow-
-blow, blow-
Blow behind us, lift us
With the leaves
Twirling down from the
Green above;
With arms that reach-
-reach, reach-
Reach forever forward
To grasp
That flow, course
Of air. Reach with arms
And legs that leave the
Earth, leave faint kissed where
They pounded, we stretch on-
-on, on-
On with arms and legs and eyes and breath
And almost, we-
Almost-
We fall, fall to earth-
Base earth, and water-
And the air
Shuns us, we cry
For it and
Fall to the Earth,
Arms and legs and sobbing gasps.
And they ask why-
-why, why-
Why do we kill ourselves
For third place,
Fifth,
Tenth,
Last?
And we look at them, and
Think of
The almost-flight,
The familiar courses,
And we say,
We
Just
Like
To
Run.
Dear Lois,
I loved you, old girl, and I guess I still do.
A skip and a jump and a lively sprint-
You left so fast -- God called and you went!
I think I saw you wink when you went by.
I didn't know you long, but I still cry.
I miss you, old girl, I already do.
And we won't meet again for a long, long while,
But when I go, maybe it'll be with a wink and a smile,
Like you.
What a smile, old girl, when you left the stage;
With you ahead, I can't be afraid.
So I'll see you then; don't forget to write,
And I won't cry no more when he puts it right.
(Lois Stewart was Brian's grandmother and my grandmother-in-law. She was one of those people whose every gesture for those around her was full of love and respect and kindness. Brian's mom asked me to read this at her funeral after I showed it to her, so it's the only poem I've ever publicly read other than in college classes.)
Melody
The music drifts away.
Shadows gather; the gloaming of night
Crowds out courage and squeezes away
Joy. Feasting is over; old food sits
Low and heavy; old wine dulls the wits.
The songs grow quiet.
Tales of glory fade; the cold
Pushes together the aloof couples.
One sits in solitude; her promised
Is away. She faces night alone.
The music disappears.
Yet plays on; love carries it
Despite the cold of night and
Darkness' fear. Love waits in hope
Of the day returning and new songs.
aefenglommung said he hadn't read any of my poetry. I would've thought I'd have shown him some over the years... I guess it's one of those things that just didn't happen.So, that got my brain thinking, and I tracked down a mailing list of writers I used to belong to- where I posted quite a few poems. A few more below to the curious- these are more typical of my style, as they're all some variation of free verse.
Run
We begin-
Lope; easy paces
That start- stretch
Longer, swifter,
And slowly-
-slowly-
Slowly gain ground;
Reach free;
And we run-
-run, run-
Run with strides that
Pound the ground, with
Breath
That labors;
And the winds blow-
-blow, blow-
Blow behind us, lift us
With the leaves
Twirling down from the
Green above;
With arms that reach-
-reach, reach-
Reach forever forward
To grasp
That flow, course
Of air. Reach with arms
And legs that leave the
Earth, leave faint kissed where
They pounded, we stretch on-
-on, on-
On with arms and legs and eyes and breath
And almost, we-
Almost-
We fall, fall to earth-
Base earth, and water-
And the air
Shuns us, we cry
For it and
Fall to the Earth,
Arms and legs and sobbing gasps.
And they ask why-
-why, why-
Why do we kill ourselves
For third place,
Fifth,
Tenth,
Last?
And we look at them, and
Think of
The almost-flight,
The familiar courses,
And we say,
We
Just
Like
To
Run.
Dear Lois,
I loved you, old girl, and I guess I still do.
A skip and a jump and a lively sprint-
You left so fast -- God called and you went!
I think I saw you wink when you went by.
I didn't know you long, but I still cry.
I miss you, old girl, I already do.
And we won't meet again for a long, long while,
But when I go, maybe it'll be with a wink and a smile,
Like you.
What a smile, old girl, when you left the stage;
With you ahead, I can't be afraid.
So I'll see you then; don't forget to write,
And I won't cry no more when he puts it right.
(Lois Stewart was Brian's grandmother and my grandmother-in-law. She was one of those people whose every gesture for those around her was full of love and respect and kindness. Brian's mom asked me to read this at her funeral after I showed it to her, so it's the only poem I've ever publicly read other than in college classes.)
Melody
The music drifts away.
Shadows gather; the gloaming of night
Crowds out courage and squeezes away
Joy. Feasting is over; old food sits
Low and heavy; old wine dulls the wits.
The songs grow quiet.
Tales of glory fade; the cold
Pushes together the aloof couples.
One sits in solitude; her promised
Is away. She faces night alone.
The music disappears.
Yet plays on; love carries it
Despite the cold of night and
Darkness' fear. Love waits in hope
Of the day returning and new songs.
