duncan-leugs
American
Hello. My name is Duncan, and I am a Nursing student at Grand Valley State University. As someone heavily involved in science, I never thought of myself as having an artistic side. However, after studying poetry over 3 years ago, I have found writing to be an emotional release that simultaneously challenges my ability to think in a different manner. / / I do my best to challenge myself in my writing by using different types of meter, rhyme, and symbolism that convey a message. In this way, I hope to make my writing enjoyable to read, but also thought provoking. / / If you have any thoughts, please leave a comment. I still have a lot to learn, and I value feedback and criticism. / / I hope you enjoy.
Two birds cry
for what once was.
The innocent lamb decomposes
for she once were
Tossing joy with a painted face
humming without distress
to the two birds who tended her
all for naught.
The two birds had watched her succession
turning away from her inevitable passing
Moments wasted now abandoned
Replacing blissful memories
with a duet of Piano Sonata
sung by the two birds
as they attempt to mend the lamb with harmony.
Now only one bird cries
for the other must sing
for what once was.
Jun 1, 2013
Jun 1, 2013 at 12:48 AM UTC
The splendid southern sun lights the land
breeding the greenest grass
exploding the fairest flowers
reflecting the widest seas
feeding the richest soil
and the kindest people
The vast open ocean soaks the skin
The soft white sand scalds the feet
The breezy air is humid
saturated with ecstasy
but damp with opportunity
But as I venture north
films of simple nostalgia conceal these memories
escapes to the southern sun now intermittent.
Bliss is overcome with solitude.
Reality refracts the northern lamps
replacing the herald of each new day with a sobering awakening.
Every day passes slowly
as the factory of life once again begins
as the iron cogs of monotony turn
in their recurrent spin.
The last bursts of escape are torn
ripped between the brutish artisans of monotony
like scraps thrown to the dogs
a loaf dropped amongst slaves.
This is the limit of our blessed lives
Endless toil and fleeting happiness.
If not, show me more
a rescue from these binding shackles.
But if so, may I dream
of the southern sun?
Jun 1, 2013
Jun 1, 2013 at 12:15 AM UTC
Roads ahead concealed by night
Though the cyclic sun shines bright.
I had once thought I was lost
As my skin collected frost.
Ne'er was warmth to hold my bones
Naked, as my body moaned
'Til by chance a glimpse of light
fed my hope, my will and sight.
A lantern sits upon the ground
without a warning nor a sound.
I lift it up in disbelief
breathing out the warm relief.
With this light and on my own
I have found a new way home.
May 31, 2013
May 31, 2013 at 11:56 PM UTC
What kind of a man am I
That I am a mystery to myself?
That I listen to every voice
of what I can
of what I should
but never what I want.
What kind of a man am I
That I thrive on interlacing kinship
but I myself am a knotted wreck?
That I agree the multitudes surrounding,
and lie to the faces I most long to see?
What kind of a man am I
That I cannot win a simple game of chess
between what my heart feels
and what my mind knows
Instead of conquering my board
upon which a winner is never announced
and peace will never be reached.
What kind of a man am I
That I have not been honest with the person
because I do not know the self.
I alone must make the choice
What kind of a man am I
If I cannot decide?
May 31, 2013
May 31, 2013 at 11:49 PM UTC
I wish I could show you true beauty
to put a frame to what eyes behold.
I wish I could trace your outline
touch your details
brush your shadows
Cutting stone to your remarkable mold.
I wish I could stop time with a pencil
to frame unintentional glory
to capture you, modest
tranquil
serene
Making seconds outlast eternity.
I wish I could capture these moments
these pauses so precious to me
Instants of awe and breathless watching
painting to memory what I perceive.
So brief are these hallowed moments
and so erratically intermittent
that I find myself hoping
lingering
longing
Forgetting the time in between them.
I wish I had the faculty
to contain your gilded beauty.
Instead, I watch, and cherish these moments,
For in them
I love you
and you only.
May 30, 2013
May 30, 2013 at 1:30 AM UTC
Dawn breaks, and with it
yawns wake the dreary
bodies of those who
accept the foggy boon of
Sunshine.
Through dusty windows
or glossy eyes
Desire envelops reality until
Realization drops
in the mind as a clear
glass of water
slowly spills empty.
Worry moans as
Coherence opens
its eyes to scold
the brilliant invader.
Thought takes hold
and dreams are discarded.
Who sighs?
Lifting his head, asking the light
Who am I?
May 30, 2013
May 30, 2013 at 1:20 AM UTC
The intricate
anatomy of the
human body, with
its ups and downs
its ins and outs
its curves.
The beautiful
curves that draw
a certain feeling of
longing that none
can easily forget
Slow, my
eyes trace
her sentient
form down
down
to
her
edge.
May 30, 2013
May 30, 2013 at 1:16 AM UTC
As I gaze upon the sea
I thought of only you and me.
The love that could have drowned an anthem
a love so deep we could not fathom.
I recall these days of old
when dreams were bright and waters cold
when silent breeze with fingers icy
would brush your hair ever so slightly.
Ceaseless waves would pound the shore
when once we were, but nevermore.
At that place where land met sea
with water lapping at our feet
even now that you're away
I pace the shore to waste the day.
By the beach we always ran
scarring footprints in the sand
the memories ingrained in time
now washed away amidst the brine.
I choke down water with ever breath.
Since you have gone, there's nothing left.
May 30, 2013
May 30, 2013 at 1:14 AM UTC
Undisturbed these blankets new
undisturbed conceal the few.
Those who wander worn and weary
speak of Spring's antiquity.
Winter's callous tears will bring
no more odes for choirs to sing.
Restless nights breed endless dreams
undisturbed to cease the streams.
But glory still remains amid
wide expanses now deemed placid.
I long to feel your touch again
but I will wait until you rien.
The mornings shine with crystals bright
whilst Twilight's solitude holds tight.
May 30, 2013
May 30, 2013 at 1:11 AM UTC
Across dry plains the tumbleweed dances
off the dusty floor
As a renounced ballerina reminisces
in her old studio
On the corner of the street
towards the west
following the sun
where all dreams go
And where the wind carries the tumbleweed.
The air rustles in the drift
as she sighs
Breathing in the dusty smell
of the grass
Of the room
where she once performed
for her beloved
now carried away
by the same wind
that carries tumbleweeds
and caused dust to dance.
A tear soaks the wooden floor
a small relief from the barren span
for the lonely ballerina
who is forever carried
along the scalding land.
Lost.
Like words unsaid
on lips untouched
cracked by the sun
where all dreams go
And where the wind carries the tumbleweed.
May 30, 2013
May 30, 2013 at 1:06 AM UTC