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“Speak! speak! thou fearful guest!
Who, with thy hollow breast
Still in rude armor drest,
    Comest to daunt me!
Wrapt not in Eastern balms,
But with thy fleshless palms
Stretched, as if asking alms,
    Why dost thou haunt me?”

Then, from those cavernous eyes
Pale flashes seemed to rise,
As when the Northern skies
    Gleam in December;
And, like the water’s flow
Under December’s snow,
Came a dull voice of woe
    From the heart’s chamber.

“I was a Viking old!
My deeds, though manifold,
No Skald in song has told,
    No Saga taught thee!
Take heed, that in thy verse
Thou dost the tale rehearse,
Else dread a dead man’s curse;
    For this I sought thee.

“Far in the Northern Land,
By the wild Baltic’s strand,
I, with my childish hand,
    Tamed the gerfalcon;
And, with my skates fast-bound,
Skimmed the half-frozen Sound,
That the poor whimpering hound
    Trembled to walk on.

“Oft to his frozen lair
Tracked I the grisly bear,
While from my path the hare
    Fled like a shadow;
Oft through the forest dark
Followed the were-wolf’s bark,
Until the soaring lark
    Sang from the meadow.

“But when I older grew,
Joining a corsair’s crew,
O’er the dark sea I flew
    With the marauders.
Wild was the life we led;
Many the souls that sped,
Many the hearts that bled,
    By our stern orders.

“Many a wassail-bout
Wore the long Winter out;
Often our midnight shout
    Set the ***** crowing,
As we the Berserk’s tale
Measured in cups of ale,
Draining the oaken pail,
    Filled to o’erflowing.

“Once as I told in glee
Tales of the stormy sea,
Soft eyes did gaze on me,
    Burning yet tender;
And as the white stars shine
On the dark Norway pine,
On that dark heart of mine
    Fell their soft splendor.

“I wooed the blue-eyed maid,
Yielding, yet half afraid,
And in the forest’s shade
    Our vows were plighted.
Under its loosened vest
Fluttered her little breast,
Like birds within their nest
    By the hawk frighted.

“Bright in her father’s hall
Shields gleamed upon the wall,
Loud sang the minstrels all,
    Chanting his glory;
When of old Hildebrand
I asked his daughter’s hand,
Mute did the minstrels stand
    To hear my story.

“While the brown ale he quaffed,
Loud then the champion laughed,
And as the wind-gusts waft
    The sea-foam brightly,
So the loud laugh of scorn,
Out of those lips unshorn,
From the deep drinking-horn
    Blew the foam lightly.

“She was a Prince’s child,
I but a Viking wild,
And though she blushed and smiled,
    I was discarded!
Should not the dove so white
Follow the sea-mew’s flight,
Why did they leave that night
    Her nest unguarded?

“Scarce had I put to sea,
Bearing the maid with me,
Fairest of all was she
    Among the Norsemen!
When on the white sea-strand,
Waving his armed hand,
Saw we old Hildebrand,
    With twenty horsemen.

“Then launched they to the blast,
Bent like a reed each mast,
Yet we were gaining fast,
    When the wind failed us;
And with a sudden flaw
Came round the gusty Skaw,
So that our foe we saw
    Laugh as he hailed us.

“And as to catch the gale
Round veered the flapping sail,
‘Death!’ was the helmsman’s hail,
    ‘Death without quarter!’
Mid-ships with iron keel
Struck we her ribs of steel;
Down her black hulk did reel
    Through the black water!

“As with his wings aslant,
Sails the fierce cormorant,
Seeking some rocky haunt,
    With his prey laden,—
So toward the open main,
Beating to sea again,
Through the wild hurricane,
    Bore I the maiden.

“Three weeks we westward bore,
And when the storm was o’er,
Cloud-like we saw the shore
    Stretching to leeward;
There for my lady’s bower
Built I the lofty tower,
Which, to this very hour,
  Stands looking seaward.

“There lived we many years;
Time dried the maiden’s tears;
She had forgot her fears,
    She was a mother;
Death closed her mild blue eyes,
Under that tower she lies;
Ne’er shall the sun arise
    On such another!

“Still grew my ***** then,
Still as a stagnant fen!
Hateful to me were men,
    The sunlight hateful!
In the vast forest here,
Clad in my warlike gear,
Fell I upon my spear,
    Oh, death was grateful!

“Thus, seamed with many scars,
Bursting these prison bars,
Up to its native stars
    My soul ascended!
There from the flowing bowl
Deep drinks the warrior’s soul,
Skoal! to the Northland! skoal!”
    Thus the tale ended.
A wind came up out of the sea,
And said, “O mists, make room for me.”

It hailed the ships and cried, “Sail on,
Ye mariners, the night is gone.”

And hurried landward far away,
Crying “Awake! it is the day.”

It said unto the forest, “Shout!
Hang all your leafy banners out!”

It touched the wood-bird’s folded wing,
And said, “O bird, awake and sing.”

And o’er the farms, “O chanticleer,
Your clarion blow; the day is near.”

It whispered to the fields of corn,
“Bow down, and hail the coming morn.”

It shouted through the belfry-tower,
“Awake, O bell! proclaim the hour.”

It crossed the churchyard with a sigh,
And said, “Not yet! In quiet lie.”
 Apr 2015 Pranav kastury
cv
why search for constellations across the sky, darling?
when you have more beautiful and intricate ones
carved on your lithe body

why fawn over the stars in awe?
when you have those hazel eyes
that tell of so much tragic stories
but nonetheless, sparkle with ecstasy

why be amazed of planets and new discoveries?
when you, yourself,
are exotic,
unique,
and a puzzle on its own.
sleep, child.
 Apr 2015 Pranav kastury
cv
screaming, screaming
she pounds ******* the bars
crying, crying
she has no voice

she glances down
and sees her hands
that are doused with blood and,
she can never bring back
everything that they took

clenching her fists
and shutting her eyes,
she continues to scream.
until the light sets her free.



(okay on another side, did you laugh at my pun-guillotine for the guilty haha yeah i know i should stop)
Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,
And sorry I could not travel both
And be one traveler, long I stood
And looked down one as far as I could
To where it bent in the undergrowth;

Then took the other, as just as fair,
And having perhaps the better claim,
Because it was grassy and wanted wear;
Though as for that the passing there
Had worn them really about the same,

And both that morning equally lay
In leaves no step had trodden black.
Oh, I kept the first for another day!
Yet knowing how way leads on to way,
I doubted if I should ever come back.

I shall be telling this with a sigh
Somewhere ages and ages hence:
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I—
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference.
 Apr 2015 Pranav kastury
Sam WG
Hey ** don't you know
I've got a stitch for you to sow
Call me in the morning I'll be out of bed
Oh yes, "You can never get too much rest!"
Half a day working at the circus
How about we juggle an English breakfast, side of French Toast
Tie my lace and tighten my waist
I'd hate to have to save face, before the birds have barked

I can't wait to see you next evening
You know I might jump off the swing early
Hit the ground running
so you won't see me coming
Well anyway I've ruined the surprise now haven't I
But anyhow hey **, it was wishful thinking
I'll still step-stone through the snow
And you know it'll melt like it always does
This is me doing my best (well, the first time I've tried) to write lyrics like Syd Barrett. By the way it's supposed to be recited like a nursery rhyme would, it doesn't sound right if you don't make it a right old song and dance kind of tune. It could be longer but I'm going to bed so I'll just post it as it is.
The night approaches swiftly, like a tiger on the prowl,
As the night moves forward you can hear the hoots of Great Horned Owl.

The hours pass by and the clock keeps on ticking,
And here I lay on the couch just thinking.

In my time of relaxation I pondered and I thought,
Is the path that I’m on a wise one or not?

Hour after hour I begin to feel sleepy.
So I rush to my bed, relaxed, until I feel something beneath me.

In a rage the room turns pitch black, with flashes of red and yellow.
And in a panic I jump off my bed and run like a crazed fellow.

The door slams shut and my panic becomes deeper,
Until I hear the voice of a mysterious twisted creature.

“He says be wise with decisions that are made with haste,
You would never want a fortunate opportunity to go to waste.

Never feel forced to be on time with what you choose,
Because it will not be the respect of others, in which you lose.

Indecisiveness is wisdom, which with time will bloom,
So from here on out do not spend your days in gloom.

If these words are not followed, a different life you shall live.
A life in which you are selfish and refuse to charitably give.

One that is chronological and filled with bland affairs,
A life that is careless and lacking in truths or dares.

In the blink of an eye light pours in from spontaneous lightening,
And in a matter of seconds this all feels more frightening.

I turn to open the door, but the door will not open,
Scared for my life, I scream “This isn't the path I have chosen.”

As I lift my head up and turn around, the monster in no longer there,
At last my room is filled with light, it was all just an insightful nightmare.
Hold her.

Hold her like she's the wind
Never letting go

Hold her like she's the sand
Rough, and ever so

Hold her like she's fire
Sacred and forever

Hold her like she's desire
Long after a funeral pyre

Hold her like she's a breath
The last fore your death

Hold her like she's the one
Meaning to come, and never to run


Hold her. Like You love her.

Love her. Like You do.
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