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"aslan" poems
I’m not good at being forward I have this habit of becoming disordered I let my emotions change the color of my sleeve In my aspirations I hope to find belief I walk through jungles and rainforests Once in a while I see through the canopy Into the skies of my memories And request that stars dance to the rhythm of us I keep them alive to avoid the gathering of dust My memories, caught in the Pensieve of your eyes Have ignored all the times I told myself lies I may not be your ideal Superman But I’d accept Peter Pan if you’ll go with me to Neverland I’ve rarely been so captivated by a girl Sure, Zooey Deschanel is quirky in New Girl And Emma Watson bewitched me from the start Anna Kendrick was perfect in Pitch Perfect Alex Morgan is the luckiest 13 I’ve ever seen But I choose you! To fill my canteen You quench my thirst when the loneliness dries me I was not made to walk in a desert My heart is an amphibian Living like a Floridian in the ice-cold tundra we call Rexburg You still need the sun, no matter how much it snows I’ll trudge on in the jungle; dormant in the night I’ll carry on with you in mind, until the time is right Once I’ve faced death, or even a spider Then, I think I’ll top the greats; George of the Jungle, Aslan, Mogly, Tarzan, Batman, Peter Pan, Harry Potter, Genghis Kahn, Michael… Jackson or Jordan They’re all kings and I’ll be in their league As I shake off the fatigue and find courage in you To make it through the awkward moment of simply saying “You’re a real kind of gorgeous” In that chorus, played on my rhythm of heartbeats I found my way out of the back streets From deep in the jungle I’ve come to know as Fear A jungle that disappears when your presence is near Sometimes I have to stop walking, stop thinking I feel like I’m on the verge of something spectacular Anything normal might ruin that
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Oct 27, 2012
Oct 27, 2012 at 11:14 PM UTC
On the Verge of Spectacular
I’m not good at being forward I have this habit of becoming disordered I let my emotions change the color of my sleeve In my aspirations I hope to find belief I walk through jungles and rainforests Once in a while I see through the canopy Into the skies of my memories And request that stars dance to the rhythm of us I keep them alive to avoid the gathering of dust My memories, caught in the Pensieve of your eyes Have ignored all the times I told myself lies I may not be your ideal Superman But I’d accept Peter Pan if you’ll go with me to Neverland I’ve rarely been so captivated by a girl Sure, Zooey Deschanel is quirky in New Girl And Emma Watson bewitched me from the start Anna Kendrick was perfect in Pitch Perfect Alex Morgan is the luckiest 13 I’ve ever seen But I choose you! To fill my canteen You quench my thirst when the loneliness dries me I was not made to walk in a desert My heart is an amphibian Living like a Floridian in the ice-cold tundra we call Rexburg You still need the sun, no matter how much it snows I’ll trudge on in the jungle; dormant in the night I’ll carry on with you in mind, until the time is right Once I’ve faced death, or even a spider Then, I think I’ll top the greats; George of the Jungle, Aslan, Mogly, Tarzan, Batman, Peter Pan, Harry Potter, Genghis Kahn, Michael… Jackson or Jordan They’re all kings and I’ll be in their league As I shake off the fatigue and find courage in you To make it through the awkward moment of simply saying “You’re a real kind of gorgeous” In that chorus, played on my rhythm of heartbeats I found my way out of the back streets From deep in the jungle I’ve come to know as Fear A jungle that disappears when your presence is near Sometimes I have to stop walking, stop thinking I feel like I’m on the verge of something spectacular Anything normal might ruin that
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39
Another beloved strides out of my life. Some smoker pauses head bent over their cigarette matchstick poised to flare and shimmy under streetlight but the waiting moment stretches infinitely With sweet shock I realise there is a breeze playing around us both made suddenly material in the space/ the pause between spark and fulfillment Then can we wonder how things unseen or only felt become visible when inconvenient Yearning for the moment pressed somewhere into the weft of my childhood Aslan smiling -if lions can smile- when three small British children find out that they need never leave Narnia again.
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Feb 8, 2015
Feb 8, 2015 at 10:07 AM UTC
Temporary Relevance
The thing about Narnia is Narnia leaves and the kids return back to the real world with both reluctance and vigour. But what if Narnia didn't? What if it hovered, shadowed around the edge of their vision, Aslan in the corner of their eye the White Witch frosting across bodies of water. Would they go back to school? Would they fall in love with someone who just didn't get the game they used to play when they were kids? "You bailed on us again, Peter" "Susan, stop looking out the window!" "But you've always loved sweets" "Lucy, lions can't talk." So yeah. Start again, ******* I mean, you changed Narnia for the better, Right? Right?
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Oct 9, 2014
Oct 9, 2014 at 8:05 AM UTC
Narnia won't leave me Alone
they call you the great Lion. but in my world you have another name. you're not safe, but you're good. you're the King. you come and go. one day i see you, one day i don't. you're not a tame lion. at the sound of your roar, sorrows will be no more. when you bare your teeth, winter meets its death. when you shake your mane, we shall have spring again.
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Mar 22, 2014
Mar 22, 2014 at 9:17 AM UTC
Aslan.
This is a re-post of "All Change at Zima Junction."  This morning I turned in my keys after some forty years of herding cattle (metaphorically), seventeen of them with this institution.  I am unemployed for the first time since I was five or so and was set to toddling out to the chicken yard every evening to gather the eggs in an old Easter basket.  My mother said that the rooster often chased me and made me cry, but I don’t remember that. And now - what adventure does Aslan have next for me? The first book I bought upon returning home from Viet-Nam was the Penguin Modern European Poets paperback edition of Yevtushenko: Selected Poems.  That 75-cent paperback from an airport bookstall in San Francisco is beside me on the desk as I write.                                      All Change at Zima Junction                             For Yevgeny Yevtushenko, 1932-2017 Everyone changes trains at Zima Junction Changes lives; nineteen becomes twenty-one With hardly a pause for twenty and then Everyone asks you questions you can’t answer And then they say you’ve changed, and ignore you The small-town brief-case politician still Enthroned as if he were a committee - He asks you what you are doing back here And then you go away, on a different train: Everyone changes trains at Zima Junction                            “I went, and I am still going.”1 1Yevtushenko: Selected Poems. Penguin,1962
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May 6, 2019
May 6, 2019 at 4:10 PM UTC
"I Went, And I Am Still Going."
This is a re-post of "All Change at Zima Junction."  This morning I turned in my keys after some forty years of herding cattle (metaphorically), seventeen of them with this institution.  I am unemployed for the first time since I was five or so and was set to toddling out to the chicken yard every evening to gather the eggs in an old Easter basket.  My mother said that the rooster often chased me and made me cry, but I don’t remember that. And now - what adventure does Aslan have next for me? The first book I bought upon returning home from Viet-Nam was the Penguin Modern European Poets paperback edition of Yevtushenko: Selected Poems.  That 75-cent paperback from an airport bookstall in San Francisco is beside me on the desk as I write.                                      All Change at Zima Junction                             For Yevgeny Yevtushenko, 1932-2017 Everyone changes trains at Zima Junction Changes lives; nineteen becomes twenty-one With hardly a pause for twenty and then Everyone asks you questions you can’t answer And then they say you’ve changed, and ignore you The small-town brief-case politician still Enthroned as if he were a committee - He asks you what you are doing back here And then you go away, on a different train: Everyone changes trains at Zima Junction                            “I went, and I am still going.”1 1Yevtushenko: Selected Poems. Penguin,1962
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17
Perhaps all I really need is your sweet company or something tht will replace my existance from earth. Because when I'm with you it's like if I were in heaven or haven or texas or back in colorado in my uncle's kitchen eating home made alfajores and my brother would be playing Guitar Hero only being 7 years old and me being 11. When I'm with you time doesn't exist and that's pretty rad. It's like we entered the narnia wardrobe and cuddled in between the bad witch and aslan and how they'd fight and make a war and scream bad things to each other but it's okay because I have got you and I'm looking at you and wow I really love the way you hold my hands.
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Oct 12, 2013
Oct 12, 2013 at 12:54 PM UTC
Untitled
the God of freedom, whiskey, beer, and food- the God of green hills and romances, the God of tattoos, piercings, and edgy clothing, the God of cliffs, breaking waves, and high mountains with stiff winds this God is a wild God- He rises and sets like the sun loves always but is sometimes not seen Aslan is not a tame lion, after all He is an Irish God and contains the universe in the palm of His Irish hand.
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Dec 8, 2014
Dec 8, 2014 at 2:02 AM UTC
an Irish God
I heard the quiet rumble, Coming from his chest. And when I close my eyes, I feel his soft warm breath. It only took a journey, Between the pages of a book, But once the wardrobe was opened, One look was all it took.
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Oct 23, 2014
Oct 23, 2014 at 10:06 PM UTC
Aslan
"Regardless. How hard you try. I'm going to find a way to the top. You cannot bring me down. Period. No games. No schemes. No gags. No ******** Every stone casted at my direction I will use. FORGET A CASTLE. I'm a building  A P Y R A M I D." Descovia* Nowhere to run. The final rage released from the heat of the sun! Humanity paid for it! It cost us, more than what we could afford from funds. I'll be at peace when the fire comes Can't **** me! Hear me roar on the mountains like Aslan! Confident? I just know, I'm few of the ones! Charismatic? I am the definition! You haters are fire, for my ammunition! I got what you lack,  can't **** my ambition! I am dark with the magic. But no dark magician I can bring the static, don't call the electrician!! Come at me, foolish with the games?! Why you even turn that switch on!? I'm a God Father for a reason.  My hold on this game remains strong Criminal minded like a don! You compared to me. There's no competition! What do you mean you keep it G? Last time. I check, you be selling yourself out for the free! Steal from your homies and cry to the police!? Where I am from that s***  is for the weak! You left a taste in my mouth not so sweet. I'm a Ghoul in Tokyo running wild on these streets! So best believe you started a war with a Hero's Academy F*****G WITH ME! I hate it, when I have to raise my voice It's cut-throat, to any of you  be doing the most I know it gets heavy, when you hanging to life on the ropes! If it wasn't for Faith I wouldn't have Hope. I can take you out of the game Pray for Light who needs a DEATHNOTE!? Leave you like the titanic,  you ship-wrecked mess with no other place to float! You say "I'm a *** My wealth are my kids Your platform's a joke. 26 Million followers You could be on tv. BUT YOU CAN'T KEEP COKE OUT  OF YOUR NOSE! Call me animal,  I stated before I'm a GOAT. While you're trying not drown I'm finding my flow   Haters try to their best to impose. You bounce around from one to the next like a yo yo I don't care about how much you party how much money you got from so and so You a one hit trip everybody I know had a turn to go. I can speak more bad on your name.  I'll leave it right here. CASE CLOSED.
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Feb 20, 2021
Feb 20, 2021 at 12:57 PM UTC
Pyramid! ( Monique Degloyer Diss)
"Regardless. How hard you try. I'm going to find a way to the top. You cannot bring me down. Period. No games. No schemes. No gags. No ******** Every stone casted at my direction I will use. FORGET A CASTLE. I'm a building  A P Y R A M I D." Descovia* Nowhere to run. The final rage released from the heat of the sun! Humanity paid for it! It cost us, more than what we could afford from funds. I'll be at peace when the fire comes Can't **** me! Hear me roar on the mountains like Aslan! Confident? I just know, I'm few of the ones! Charismatic? I am the definition! You haters are fire, for my ammunition! I got what you lack,  can't **** my ambition! I am dark with the magic. But no dark magician I can bring the static, don't call the electrician!! Come at me, foolish with the games?! Why you even turn that switch on!? I'm a God Father for a reason.  My hold on this game remains strong Criminal minded like a don! You compared to me. There's no competition! What do you mean you keep it G? Last time. I check, you be selling yourself out for the free! Steal from your homies and cry to the police!? Where I am from that s***  is for the weak! You left a taste in my mouth not so sweet. I'm a Ghoul in Tokyo running wild on these streets! So best believe you started a war with a Hero's Academy F*****G WITH ME! I hate it, when I have to raise my voice It's cut-throat, to any of you  be doing the most I know it gets heavy, when you hanging to life on the ropes! If it wasn't for Faith I wouldn't have Hope. I can take you out of the game Pray for Light who needs a DEATHNOTE!? Leave you like the titanic,  you ship-wrecked mess with no other place to float! You say "I'm a *** My wealth are my kids Your platform's a joke. 26 Million followers You could be on tv. BUT YOU CAN'T KEEP COKE OUT  OF YOUR NOSE! Call me animal,  I stated before I'm a GOAT. While you're trying not drown I'm finding my flow   Haters try to their best to impose. You bounce around from one to the next like a yo yo I don't care about how much you party how much money you got from so and so You a one hit trip everybody I know had a turn to go. I can speak more bad on your name.  I'll leave it right here. CASE CLOSED.
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70
Aslan You make me want to write My most inner thoughts May they are vulnerable and raw You make me want to feel them all I look at you and I see innocence One I wish I can protect with all my might One I wish will last forever and a day One I wish shall remain pure as ever You filled me up with your candid love Your cheeky grins and contagious laugh You make me feel I'm on top of the world Your love so grand, I am so shy and honoured Aslan You are my love, my favourite person Your little self ain't so little no more You are my reason to work endlessly hard Your entire being I won't let be full of woes I love you lil lion of mine
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Jun 28, 2020
Jun 28, 2020 at 10:37 AM UTC
Aslan #01
Lawrence Hall [email protected] https://hellopoetry.com/lawrence-hall/ poeticdrivel.blogspot.com Behold! A story requires an occasional “Behold!” Merely to see the magic is not enough The children do not merely see Aslan Nor does Uncle Andrew merely see the witch Behold! A story requires an occasional “Behold!” Merely to see the Truth is not enough The Magi do not merely see the Star Nor do the shepherds merely see the Child Behold! A story requires an occasional “Behold!” Or else the magic isn’t truly told Behold!
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Jan 4, 2021
Jan 4, 2021 at 8:18 AM UTC
Behold!
He was so beautiful, I was so afraid to touch him. In fear that the illusion might break and I would have nothing left to look forward to. Like Aslan from Narnia, he was majestic and all things brilliant. And I, a curious Lucy went up to confront him in all his glory. "He is real," I keep telling myself. "He isn't like the others, they're fictional. He is real," as I got closer. It started with a hand on his cheek. He was nice about it, he urged me to go on, I did. With no fear of rejection, I took my time exploring. It was exhilarating. I was sure he would take care of my heart. That he would prove himself to be real, that I could bring him to show him off, to tell everyone that it is proof. He is real and he is mine to keep. After I was done, he lowered himself to look me in the eye. He slowly reassured me that I am right. He is real but he's not that amazing. I was sad, but he is right. -m.b
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Jan 6, 2017
Jan 6, 2017 at 12:48 PM UTC
Aslan and Lucy
I fear I am losing myself again. Not that I was found before, but I ache to be that person I once was. The one who acquired kinship and required nothing more, nothing less. The one who learned what it was to say no and be truly healthy; mind, body, soul. Happy in her chaotic, inventive intellect. She settled for nothing less than her prayer of him, however she fears he will be like the rest. She has settled her weary mind and expects forever this time. She worries of nothing these months, but is dismal for the day she loses her adolescence. People think her insane when she talks of her dreamery and passions. She aches to never grow up, for that is where creative aesthetic is lost. "Stay with me forever Alice and Peter", she says. Tell me the stories behind your pages and never cease to keep alive in this wit. Remain as deranged as the lions mane atop her cleverness. The one her maternal never loved. Remain fierce as Aslan and gentle as a peony. Most of all never lose confidence of your creative destiny.
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Aug 3, 2016
Aug 3, 2016 at 8:15 AM UTC
Adolescence
A sting of Fire and eyes of bliss Oh, how I long for that crimson kiss Winter I spent in frost and pain missing the touch of Aslan´s mane You flicker of Light on the mountain peak Are you the warmth I so urgently seek? The glow of Green and rivers Blue Fight to meet you through and through I patiently wait for song and Gloom And radiant flowers in constant Bloom So let me slumber in fields of Gold and dream of Love so ancient and old Though rust and Copper claims your child and I face Cold and Winters wild Where Darkness reigns and Courage fall and frost and shadow swallow All I gently rise above the meek And recall your kiss upon my cheek.
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Oct 1, 2014
Oct 1, 2014 at 4:45 PM UTC
Eva
All I see are demons in this apocalyptic season when everyone with a grievance pledges allegiance to those in agreement of fear of the opposition deserving paranoid treatment for a thing called collision. I live in fear of their numbers I fear the heights of their hunger I fear they'll eternalize my slumber not wanting to go under I sit there and wonder how to tear asunder nightmarish hunters. This thunderstick granted to me for my John Wick fantasy lays in my hands handily fingers hugging the trigger ignoring the touch of skin it makes me feel bigger than playing the violin. I need guns because the other side has them trading players like they're Udonis Haslem feeling like the metallic version of Aslan because of the armament in my safe connecting me to my venom protecting me from the other's ways with a second **** in my denim. I'm afraid of the angry mob to which I've globbed on pitchforks in hand fingers hugging the trigger of supply and demand the rich get richer.
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Jan 7, 2022
Jan 7, 2022 at 1:40 AM UTC
Armed Opposition
I can hear him through the walls Hear him run here and there He is playing by himself Lost in his own personal space Sometimes he will shout out loud Or he will have imaginary scenarios Most of the time he is a superhero Going around saving innocent lives Yet when I enter the room He will stop and look at me I will then feel his tiny arms around me His love forever engulfing me Even when you're old like me Even when you have your own family Even when you're busy as a bee You, my darling, will always be my baby I love you, son. You are my Aslan in the kingdom of Narnia. Always and always. Eternally.
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Jun 26, 2020
Jun 26, 2020 at 9:42 AM UTC
The son
"you doubt your value, stop running away from who you are!" -Aslan (Narnia Chronicles)
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Mar 5, 2017
Mar 5, 2017 at 9:57 AM UTC
Untitled
we claw through brittle days        upon calloused hands hearts chiseled into Celtic swords                                                                           yet we hold on- hunkering down through        blistering nights, trudging beneath                the frosted moon,                  awakening at mottled dawn, sleep deprived,        riddled with a profound ache for distant fairy stories                we will not surrender       to shrieking banshees,            to long-stemmed loneliness,   to prevailing hunger,                   to our minds' mischiefs fretting         as shadows in                        unforgiving hours       instead we galvanize as druids,               extracting golden amber from faraway dreams         depositing them as seeds stowed beneath winter's cloak-        lore keepers                        of pandemic secrets                                     -until spring     thaws the frozen river beds               of our poetic fingers               pollinating speech                      while we spawn into garnet roses (blood soaked with piecing stems)     a reawakening of voracious beauty, the roaring Aslan,              unmuzzled prophesier                                    of breaking dawn
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Nov 24, 2020
Nov 24, 2020 at 2:15 PM UTC
Garra (Spanish for talon)
we claw through brittle days        upon calloused hands hearts chiseled into Celtic swords                                                                           yet we hold on- hunkering down through        blistering nights, trudging beneath                the frosted moon,                  awakening at mottled dawn, sleep deprived,        riddled with a profound ache for distant fairy stories                we will not surrender       to shrieking banshees,            to long-stemmed loneliness,   to prevailing hunger,                   to our minds' mischiefs fretting         as shadows in                        unforgiving hours       instead we galvanize as druids,               extracting golden amber from faraway dreams         depositing them as seeds stowed beneath winter's cloak-        lore keepers                        of pandemic secrets                                     -until spring     thaws the frozen river beds               of our poetic fingers               pollinating speech                      while we spawn into garnet roses (blood soaked with piecing stems)     a reawakening of voracious beauty, the roaring Aslan,              unmuzzled prophesier                                    of breaking dawn
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Lawrence Hall HSG [email protected]                             The God of Children and Blueberries     For Theo (who is three today) and Nora (who is more than three)                            “It is eaten, and renewed, every day.”       -Ramandu’s daughter in The Voyage of the Dawn Treader God is prodigal with his seasons and feasts - This is the season of blueberries, each day a feast Great clouds of fat blue globes hang upon the little trees Water and sky shading into Prussian blue This is a table-tree, all are invited To stand with buckets and thirsty lips To pick and take, to take and eat, each day The feast magically renewed each dawn Mockingbirds, robins, sparrows, rabbits, and squirrels And children Picking, pecking, plucking, nibbling, biting All at Aslan’s Table, and all at peace
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Jun 8, 2024
Jun 8, 2024 at 11:11 AM UTC
The God of Children and Blueberries
"Oh Aslan..." sighed she. "I want to lay in your mane of red gold... will you protect me from the world so cold, whilst we explore these white lands of old- behind the doors of my secret wardrobe." Jennifer Alé
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Oct 6, 2020
Oct 6, 2020 at 3:13 AM UTC
Aslan