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brent-hamilton
American
Needlepoint threadbare caucus with an instant Kodak box camera filled nitrite Like the sun-kissed barely lit beaches over Normandy Stormed into the kitchen with a missile and an avalanche to overpower the pirates With their long-forgotten and ill begotten flagship armada The flowers hang low and the nooses lower with ever-present danger of going over The needle hits skin puncture left right down touch your toes uplift like the cross Arms hung low over the alabaster sky with a long trench-coat and wary eyes Cloud cover start to blow the cover and touch the roller coaster coffee cup sitting With an eye to the glass and the telescope lens flare catch like the door latch Down to the basement with the worn out sofa sit alone like the bedraggled soldier With his dog tags hanging like a sign of the times down to where his feet locked To the floor in an instant with the bombshells all around and a seductive twist The ring and fling the pin out count down begins to the gravity shift consciousness Like the cancer patient under the knife the tumor’s removed the chemo begun With the bulb burning down over a hospital bedside and the white sheets lingering Smell of a machine gone bad turned tail like the redcoats running down the chute With the mail to the end of the day the laundry’s out to dry on the steel clothesline Their bolt cutters damage the elderly couple hanging from the tree with the cymbal Underneath like the gong of the undertaker the dam’s release The water runs down to cleanse the disease and carries the pathogens to find their caprice and restraint held back on the man in the chair with vacant eyes and half Muttered prayers to an unknown God with long white beard Sitting alone under a payphone like the cold-dead wires of a long gone bee hive Mind pictures play off the words on my tongue like an over-told rhyme The nursery songs and bells and whistles come together to form an indignant sound Like the steel clap trap of the boot black against the pale white walls of the by-gone Era with a viscosity of ancient monolithic capacity Sourdough rising like the falling red sun over the horizon sit and contemplate the weather-worn-battle-torn visage of man remembered yet never met Till death and earth turn and burn in the ascending light of the pale moon Wolf-howl over the distant city lights like the mournful wail of a banished soul Away from home for ever so long with a comb to the palace in the heart of the beast It sings for summer and faraway places of the corporeal magic in an elemental fashion show sip the martini glasses ***** and break and shatter like popcorn In the kettle boil over the levee let it sink down into the visage of a man in the underground coat around the tails of the whipped dogs running like hell.
0
Aug 4, 2014
Aug 4, 2014 at 1:23 PM UTC
Kettle Corn
Needlepoint threadbare caucus with an instant Kodak box camera filled nitrite Like the sun-kissed barely lit beaches over Normandy Stormed into the kitchen with a missile and an avalanche to overpower the pirates With their long-forgotten and ill begotten flagship armada The flowers hang low and the nooses lower with ever-present danger of going over The needle hits skin puncture left right down touch your toes uplift like the cross Arms hung low over the alabaster sky with a long trench-coat and wary eyes Cloud cover start to blow the cover and touch the roller coaster coffee cup sitting With an eye to the glass and the telescope lens flare catch like the door latch Down to the basement with the worn out sofa sit alone like the bedraggled soldier With his dog tags hanging like a sign of the times down to where his feet locked To the floor in an instant with the bombshells all around and a seductive twist The ring and fling the pin out count down begins to the gravity shift consciousness Like the cancer patient under the knife the tumor’s removed the chemo begun With the bulb burning down over a hospital bedside and the white sheets lingering Smell of a machine gone bad turned tail like the redcoats running down the chute With the mail to the end of the day the laundry’s out to dry on the steel clothesline Their bolt cutters damage the elderly couple hanging from the tree with the cymbal Underneath like the gong of the undertaker the dam’s release The water runs down to cleanse the disease and carries the pathogens to find their caprice and restraint held back on the man in the chair with vacant eyes and half Muttered prayers to an unknown God with long white beard Sitting alone under a payphone like the cold-dead wires of a long gone bee hive Mind pictures play off the words on my tongue like an over-told rhyme The nursery songs and bells and whistles come together to form an indignant sound Like the steel clap trap of the boot black against the pale white walls of the by-gone Era with a viscosity of ancient monolithic capacity Sourdough rising like the falling red sun over the horizon sit and contemplate the weather-worn-battle-torn visage of man remembered yet never met Till death and earth turn and burn in the ascending light of the pale moon Wolf-howl over the distant city lights like the mournful wail of a banished soul Away from home for ever so long with a comb to the palace in the heart of the beast It sings for summer and faraway places of the corporeal magic in an elemental fashion show sip the martini glasses ***** and break and shatter like popcorn In the kettle boil over the levee let it sink down into the visage of a man in the underground coat around the tails of the whipped dogs running like hell.
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32
Suspended in mid-air, hung like symbol in a square The vines encrust and entangle Symmetry defined: just a touch of mastermind Near enough to be made out Yet so far, far and away. Step out to affix the eyes, gears turn amid the cries Of morals gone and others come The day has turned upon the one. Warrior and sage accrue the wealth of none But their own; forgotten, and alone. Fallen upon the grass, the leaves they shield at last The warrior and sage from cannon blast. We hung suspended in mid air, angels and tears Our arms linked as though we, one. The illusion of unity was cast Like a die cast upon chessboard The pieces all awry There's no chance at play here, either win or die. The light hung like spent shells Crackle and pop and fall to earth. Aid the cries of doom and despair Impending end chills the air. Though were your plan to cheat the gods there really is no need Eye divine sees all, even undone deed. Clandestine eyes espied the crimes Before ever crafted in a mind.
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Dec 13, 2013
Dec 13, 2013 at 6:59 PM UTC
The Genuine Article
If I pour my heart into my poetry, will you actually take the time to listen to me? Or will you attack it with the copy/paste button to fuel your cyber-based altruism. Living vicariously through others you have shut the door to freedom of expression This isn’t a safe place any more; you’re not going to listen, just look for quotes Because if this poem doesn’t explain itself in a few bars you won’t tune in You want the poet to explain his art; the poet just wants you to turn on your brain He wants you to feel the world not hear it explained in a few simple words That sound good to your ears, and fuel your own opinion. Stop looking for validation through quotes taken out of context, if you actually listen, you might actually learn. I’ve had enough of false friends who want to stab me in the back any chance they get To them I’m only acceptable if I sound just like them A speaker on repeat is not what I want to be; the desire for truth burns within Through conformity art dies if it’s not able to express its authentic self But it’s alive in the pages of imagination written somewhere deep in your brain It may be hard to see but I just want to believe that someone will listen Long enough to hear the struggle in what I’m saying I have doubts about God and the universe and whether I’m really sitting here If creation is possible or if I am really just a manipulator Of pre-existing realities; do you see my dilemma? Am I really a poet or just a fraud? If I’m an artist I hope to be an arsonist because deconstruction Is the only real form of creation; I can never be all I hope and dream The iridescence of your face does not lend clarity It just leaves me feeling like a disgrace. If I strike the match and let it burn like a resemblance of what’s within Birthed in fire, strong enough to melt stone but contained in a few words But what good are words when reality’s fleeting? My questions they writhe like serpents within me Fear it wells at the sight of your nearness; I want to hold you away Keep the feelings and emotions safely at bay Thank you very much this wardrobe is closed; do not open this door It is shut for a reason, not just a season.
0
Nov 24, 2013
Nov 24, 2013 at 2:44 PM UTC
Ojo de Dios
If I pour my heart into my poetry, will you actually take the time to listen to me? Or will you attack it with the copy/paste button to fuel your cyber-based altruism. Living vicariously through others you have shut the door to freedom of expression This isn’t a safe place any more; you’re not going to listen, just look for quotes Because if this poem doesn’t explain itself in a few bars you won’t tune in You want the poet to explain his art; the poet just wants you to turn on your brain He wants you to feel the world not hear it explained in a few simple words That sound good to your ears, and fuel your own opinion. Stop looking for validation through quotes taken out of context, if you actually listen, you might actually learn. I’ve had enough of false friends who want to stab me in the back any chance they get To them I’m only acceptable if I sound just like them A speaker on repeat is not what I want to be; the desire for truth burns within Through conformity art dies if it’s not able to express its authentic self But it’s alive in the pages of imagination written somewhere deep in your brain It may be hard to see but I just want to believe that someone will listen Long enough to hear the struggle in what I’m saying I have doubts about God and the universe and whether I’m really sitting here If creation is possible or if I am really just a manipulator Of pre-existing realities; do you see my dilemma? Am I really a poet or just a fraud? If I’m an artist I hope to be an arsonist because deconstruction Is the only real form of creation; I can never be all I hope and dream The iridescence of your face does not lend clarity It just leaves me feeling like a disgrace. If I strike the match and let it burn like a resemblance of what’s within Birthed in fire, strong enough to melt stone but contained in a few words But what good are words when reality’s fleeting? My questions they writhe like serpents within me Fear it wells at the sight of your nearness; I want to hold you away Keep the feelings and emotions safely at bay Thank you very much this wardrobe is closed; do not open this door It is shut for a reason, not just a season.
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30
The lonely wolf raised nose to the sky and decried his terrible plight He let out a sound to pierce the night, a sound both frigid and yet bright This paradox alone can tell the tale of one who’ll never say To friend or foe, how do you do, dear sir? His soliloquy freed to assault the air, a sound not despicable, no, nor fair Roam alone dear wolf and find that solace which will free your mind Ever lonely, yet never alone, his sound decries his mortal life A timeline drawn as through the sand to tell his tale, his life, his woe Brother lend me your ear, your eye doth not shed its tears Hear the sound, hear it anon; it calls upon a lonely hour Tales that wander the misty woods, to prey upon dear children’s fears Lonesome meander, tooth and claw, hear the raven’s mournful caw Yet by the by on the wind blown vales, another’s voice catches the tale Drawn by the winds the sands of time, beat back the advance of the years Catch the quarry, sustenance bring, or malice cut within the groove The jowl low, the sneer held high, the mournful sound carried on the tide Of morning come with its sweet light, breaking the wolf’s call at last on fright Flee for darkness, flee for shade, the wolf’s call must at last abate Or so it seemed on that bleak morn, that night’s reign had died in light When basked the morning’s light, the wolf’s dark coat did shine so bright With a yelp he leapt about and saw, the dew turned to steam, an end of night The light it crept up and briefly illumined the wolf’s brethren ‘pon a distant hill Nor more was he the lonely wolf, his charade exposed, his howl, choked The rabbit ran, the hound dogs bayed, the wolf gave chase, the farmer dismayed For this great sound carried away, to the ship docked in its lonely bay The captain heard this wolf’s dark howl, but did not know it from visions on the hay Tossed and turn by wind’s fancy, this his plea in his dark hour The sun advanced, it’s onslaught indomitable, give light to this fell day The captain rang his bell, hung high, the yardarms above to shade the deck Wolf, rabbit and at last hound, all advanced in their own way, came at last to wreck One and all upon the shore, they all fell to the ocean floor Tumbled forth from o’er the cliff, they cascaded down amid the drift Mixed with falls from the river bend, they calls mingled to one great sound Carried over the morning winds, this sound the captain did not comprehend The lonely wolf raised his head, surrounded by his quarry and his hunter What more friends could be wished to have surround on this the end Then these he found himself with here, he shed one joyful tear Not the cry of sorrow before heard but a new sound he raised that morn A call to all at last to see, you’re never alone, not you nor me.
0
Oct 23, 2013
Oct 23, 2013 at 3:30 PM UTC
Died in Light
The lonely wolf raised nose to the sky and decried his terrible plight He let out a sound to pierce the night, a sound both frigid and yet bright This paradox alone can tell the tale of one who’ll never say To friend or foe, how do you do, dear sir? His soliloquy freed to assault the air, a sound not despicable, no, nor fair Roam alone dear wolf and find that solace which will free your mind Ever lonely, yet never alone, his sound decries his mortal life A timeline drawn as through the sand to tell his tale, his life, his woe Brother lend me your ear, your eye doth not shed its tears Hear the sound, hear it anon; it calls upon a lonely hour Tales that wander the misty woods, to prey upon dear children’s fears Lonesome meander, tooth and claw, hear the raven’s mournful caw Yet by the by on the wind blown vales, another’s voice catches the tale Drawn by the winds the sands of time, beat back the advance of the years Catch the quarry, sustenance bring, or malice cut within the groove The jowl low, the sneer held high, the mournful sound carried on the tide Of morning come with its sweet light, breaking the wolf’s call at last on fright Flee for darkness, flee for shade, the wolf’s call must at last abate Or so it seemed on that bleak morn, that night’s reign had died in light When basked the morning’s light, the wolf’s dark coat did shine so bright With a yelp he leapt about and saw, the dew turned to steam, an end of night The light it crept up and briefly illumined the wolf’s brethren ‘pon a distant hill Nor more was he the lonely wolf, his charade exposed, his howl, choked The rabbit ran, the hound dogs bayed, the wolf gave chase, the farmer dismayed For this great sound carried away, to the ship docked in its lonely bay The captain heard this wolf’s dark howl, but did not know it from visions on the hay Tossed and turn by wind’s fancy, this his plea in his dark hour The sun advanced, it’s onslaught indomitable, give light to this fell day The captain rang his bell, hung high, the yardarms above to shade the deck Wolf, rabbit and at last hound, all advanced in their own way, came at last to wreck One and all upon the shore, they all fell to the ocean floor Tumbled forth from o’er the cliff, they cascaded down amid the drift Mixed with falls from the river bend, they calls mingled to one great sound Carried over the morning winds, this sound the captain did not comprehend The lonely wolf raised his head, surrounded by his quarry and his hunter What more friends could be wished to have surround on this the end Then these he found himself with here, he shed one joyful tear Not the cry of sorrow before heard but a new sound he raised that morn A call to all at last to see, you’re never alone, not you nor me.
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39
Perched beneath the weeping tree to signify the things that be Left alone on a moonless night the branches here have caused a fright To shadow flee, and darkness wrought here, and hither I am brought Weeping on my knees at last turned careless as it’s come to pass Still here I lie beneath the day seeking to unwind the fray Of troubled thoughts housed within my secrets crossed my body thin Here I lie my soul held high I pray the Lord will let me die For here to death what graver day what blessed respite, what truer way Than to lay my cares all here, but it’s death alone that I fear Solace fleeting catch here nigh but soul it seems at last will fly Here at this tree i tarry still the branches swaying, my body nil For here I am condemned to be ever pupil, never free Till death at last his cold embrace seeks one day my tired face And then he will draw more nigh no more, no more will I decry I do not wish this upon another my lot is here, I will go now, under To bear the burden for a friend his thoughts, not mine my soul is weighed A burdened path i do now tread seeking to find a weary thread Woven through my pages thin death here no more taunts me with sin For i lie here, no noise, no din your shadowy form is on the tin Where the lattice & the fountain sweat the fish dance in their own way The aimless turn, turn and sway. the red light high, the shadow falls The anger swept, the raven calls. Each feathered wing, from tip to tip the candle wax begins to drip A patterned verse all carefully crafted this shadow falls, unmasked and tattered. It seems to follow, despair and dismay the light it fades with every passing day. Each tear you cry it freezes in time for the days go on, but this place is mine. I cry aloud to find some solace from this quicksand I would fly. To wave my hand, wave it goodbye, I must at last, I lie, I lie. The shadow still, it stands and stares I know not why, it harshly glares. But ere I despair my gaze it shifted And from the dust, my eyes I lifted and saw a light though dimly burning and my eyes again, again are turning. Each feather falls, like eagles soar, we scream at the clouds, they drop no rain will nothing now ease this pain? I saw a light, I know tis true, I’m not alone, I won’t stay for you. Fell shadow my fear you no longer own for this dim light at last has shown you for what you really are, cast and crown you’ve fallen far. Yet to show with compass rose, where these shadows their road they chose. But sinners still continue on, I lie here, now and anon. Shadows torment and follow still but they cannot my Light **** For ever since I caught a glimpse I know my savior will draw nigh. The light has come the shadow past I will not stop ere day is cast. For darkness hides and tides they break, but nothing can my soul take for here I lie, my mind’s made up; I’ve seen the light the shadow’s cup at last has dried, no more to fill until the day has drawn at last for me to lie here, the die is cast I lie and dream no more to seem a wanderer or a cloudy morn. From me you flee, I carry the light Through your fear I never shall be put to flight For you have chosen, marred and crippled to sit upon this floor, and listen to my screams my agonized wails and feed off my hunger, my scorn, my travail. Seemingly no more to ride, I travel on, through speedy decline. Your mount is here, though fixed I am not I move around like a twig torn down Blown about by winds and tides, Shall I ever see the waking bride? Or am I doomed at last to flee, seeking for the blessed shores of eternity finding no rest in mortal man no friend to call brother, no place to bed For if you my darling I shall wed, fair Light you always were the prize. You and I were made to be One, and One in eternity. How far we’ve fallen you and I, still from these dark shadows I will hide as the courage swells within I know who I am called to be my skin still stretched tight upon my bones my teeth chatter, my nose it scorns Though from behind I see the sneer it follows still, ever near. Oh blessed Light, come and shine you make the darkness blind. For in you there is none of it at last in you I find my niche for here no more need I fear You ever, ever draw me near and here I’ve found, no more to flee I can rest my soul in Thee.
0
Oct 19, 2013
Oct 19, 2013 at 4:14 PM UTC
I am the Courage, I am the Storm
Perched beneath the weeping tree to signify the things that be Left alone on a moonless night the branches here have caused a fright To shadow flee, and darkness wrought here, and hither I am brought Weeping on my knees at last turned careless as it’s come to pass Still here I lie beneath the day seeking to unwind the fray Of troubled thoughts housed within my secrets crossed my body thin Here I lie my soul held high I pray the Lord will let me die For here to death what graver day what blessed respite, what truer way Than to lay my cares all here, but it’s death alone that I fear Solace fleeting catch here nigh but soul it seems at last will fly Here at this tree i tarry still the branches swaying, my body nil For here I am condemned to be ever pupil, never free Till death at last his cold embrace seeks one day my tired face And then he will draw more nigh no more, no more will I decry I do not wish this upon another my lot is here, I will go now, under To bear the burden for a friend his thoughts, not mine my soul is weighed A burdened path i do now tread seeking to find a weary thread Woven through my pages thin death here no more taunts me with sin For i lie here, no noise, no din your shadowy form is on the tin Where the lattice & the fountain sweat the fish dance in their own way The aimless turn, turn and sway. the red light high, the shadow falls The anger swept, the raven calls. Each feathered wing, from tip to tip the candle wax begins to drip A patterned verse all carefully crafted this shadow falls, unmasked and tattered. It seems to follow, despair and dismay the light it fades with every passing day. Each tear you cry it freezes in time for the days go on, but this place is mine. I cry aloud to find some solace from this quicksand I would fly. To wave my hand, wave it goodbye, I must at last, I lie, I lie. The shadow still, it stands and stares I know not why, it harshly glares. But ere I despair my gaze it shifted And from the dust, my eyes I lifted and saw a light though dimly burning and my eyes again, again are turning. Each feather falls, like eagles soar, we scream at the clouds, they drop no rain will nothing now ease this pain? I saw a light, I know tis true, I’m not alone, I won’t stay for you. Fell shadow my fear you no longer own for this dim light at last has shown you for what you really are, cast and crown you’ve fallen far. Yet to show with compass rose, where these shadows their road they chose. But sinners still continue on, I lie here, now and anon. Shadows torment and follow still but they cannot my Light **** For ever since I caught a glimpse I know my savior will draw nigh. The light has come the shadow past I will not stop ere day is cast. For darkness hides and tides they break, but nothing can my soul take for here I lie, my mind’s made up; I’ve seen the light the shadow’s cup at last has dried, no more to fill until the day has drawn at last for me to lie here, the die is cast I lie and dream no more to seem a wanderer or a cloudy morn. From me you flee, I carry the light Through your fear I never shall be put to flight For you have chosen, marred and crippled to sit upon this floor, and listen to my screams my agonized wails and feed off my hunger, my scorn, my travail. Seemingly no more to ride, I travel on, through speedy decline. Your mount is here, though fixed I am not I move around like a twig torn down Blown about by winds and tides, Shall I ever see the waking bride? Or am I doomed at last to flee, seeking for the blessed shores of eternity finding no rest in mortal man no friend to call brother, no place to bed For if you my darling I shall wed, fair Light you always were the prize. You and I were made to be One, and One in eternity. How far we’ve fallen you and I, still from these dark shadows I will hide as the courage swells within I know who I am called to be my skin still stretched tight upon my bones my teeth chatter, my nose it scorns Though from behind I see the sneer it follows still, ever near. Oh blessed Light, come and shine you make the darkness blind. For in you there is none of it at last in you I find my niche for here no more need I fear You ever, ever draw me near and here I’ve found, no more to flee I can rest my soul in Thee.
Continue reading...
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