"rearward" poems
The Elders of the Elven Mists, at the Death of the Old Queen
From all around the Realm they came a Conclave to convene
The fair haired Golden Locks of young Azky they did Crown
Queen Azky Rode a Royal Beast of All Dragons he was King
The Queens Beast Yaz Kere Loved Soaring About on Wing
Yaz Kere knew it was his Royal fate to Protect Queen Azky
And Carry her aloft his Back Steadfast so Her Elf Arrows Fly
The Dragons lived in Erehwon upon the Chrysenal Trees
The Elves harvested the Leaves for Enchanted Wizardry
Much Magic came from those Potions as Magical Notions
To protect both Elf and Beast in Battle against enemy Hovens
The Mordel slipped in by night to Steal the Magic Leaves
but Yaz roared Alarm to dragons as swords Pulled from Sheaths
Queen Azky, Quiver, Elven Bow and Yaz Off to the Sky they go
Blades clashed and Arrows Flew as Dragons passed above the war
As Elven arrows hit thier Mark, hordes weakened to rearward
The Mordel tried but Only failed and thus ends the Battles Tale
Nov 14, 2014
Nov 14, 2014 at 6:20 AM UTC
The uneven sentimental of adolescence,
as the spring leaf
with tender sawtooth;
Will you please,
let poetry take place of numbers
to reckon our memories?
When sunset bestows
that rearward glance
with golden sight;
melting my eyes
is the reflux
of our youth.
Mar 5, 2013
Mar 5, 2013 at 2:27 PM UTC
Then hate me when thou wilt; if ever, now;
Now, while the world is bent my deeds to cross,
join with the spite of fortune, make me bow,
And do not drop in for an after-loss.
Ah, do not, when my heart hath ’scaped this sorrow,
Come in the rearward of a conquered woe;
Give not a windy night a rainy morrow,
To linger out a purposed overthrow.
If thou wilt leave me, do not leave me last,
When other petty griefs have done their spite,
But in the onset come; so shall I taste
At first the very worst of fortune’s might,
And other strains of woe, which now seem woe,
Compared with loss of thee will not seem so.
1.2k
*how
tears fall
off my face
cog the recognition screen,
walking behind your brain
make eyes rearward,
laugh upon meeting my
****** embolism
purposed to provoke
names of deities invoke
ninety answer, choose me,
final solution, choose none,
this my first chapter,
you just read my first
last verse
we already met in a previrus life*
Jan 11, 2015
Jan 11, 2015 at 8:56 AM UTC
The wackiest debacle of spoof-esque and entirely haphazard manipulation is profound and wholly visible whilst seeing tradition being drowned and beaten oh so violently at the many spindle-thread-thin hands of progress.
Unknown etymologies spring into the air then fall approximately six-feet down and initiate rearward propellers and jets that're (in place of a better single word) one after another, in order to breathe.
And I learn
And I learn
And I learn
I appropriate and accumulate, store and enunciate, words that contemplate at any rate and though this senseless, nonsensical, principle poetry does destroy me by poison or curse or by noisy disperse, I continue to spite and despite my deriding exciting writing for those and they who've no forte or way nor say for both the beauty and ugliness of language and textual perfection.
Feb 10, 2014
Feb 10, 2014 at 2:26 PM UTC
Sometimes a disturbance
feeling like a runaway chariot
rumbles round and round
and down and down
and up and up
through the deep valleys of his belly...
causing him to expel
a half-digested sugary pastry
and a couple garlicky olives...
while failure soon attends
the muffling of explosive
rearward cries ...
often in distinguished company
Jun 18, 2015
Jun 18, 2015 at 11:12 AM UTC
Seeing now that photograph of that little boy
Now taken so very long ago, that was then, me
I sit now, looking back through each and every day
Dreaming of those halcyon times, pondering the past
Those days long ago where I once picked wild flowers
I wonder just how so many days have quickly passed
This a puzzle that I just cannot now ever understand
I wonder how those days flew past just so very fast
One moment I was young, then now, I’m suddenly old
Time silently trickling past, days now so long gone
Black, sun up, sun down, another time now turned over
Day after day, much passes now spent looking backward
Faces fluttering, dreaming of those people now gone
Some were bad, some were ugly, others I then loved
Push, pull, life tugging until I write of my deep emotions
The most important, life lived and also loves occasion’s
Now staring, I lie here today, looking always rearward
Realising how time does fly, and then slips past so easily
Pleasures, regrets, those wasted times I never shall forget
Always moving onwards, until the last bell for me chimes
Heart torn, tortured by these immensely deep thoughts
Those that I lost, comrades from my darkest long gone
The need to write down, of those long lost days of daring do
But finally realising sadness, those days now long past
Dec 11, 2023
Dec 11, 2023 at 11:19 AM UTC
for all the lost, everlasting lovers
~for mara~
*why this morning does the emoting
cast me backwards to all my lost lovers,
imagined and real, yet lasting in crevices hidden,
that beckon, asking to be reclaimed,
recalling when our names combined, many meetings
of lips, kisses so old, decades, yet so well realized
that to see, taste them, is blink, easily accomplished
day beginning, with deep penetrating glances rearward,
unclear how this clarifies the muddled visions of what
the future dreams may contain, ah, love and pain,
love and pain, a tango tangled tandem, indeed,
one hopes the past is prologue, pro for lips sensitized logged,
those kisses past, kisses yet dreamt, those works-in-process
stir the body to rise from the couch, to stretch my arms
up/skyward, grab jeans, go the Persian immigrant on the corner,
for a bun and a black coffee, who wishes me a good new year,
stunned silent when embrace him with hands-full, for his wish for me
enables a gratitude overcoming that only strangers can give;
those lost lovers yet lasting, thank them too, wish them happy year,
winter warmth, comfort them in my crevices-kept, forever retained
Love you, miss you, never gone, never forgotten, ever first,*
everlasting...
1/3/20
7:11am
Jan 3, 2020
Jan 3, 2020 at 7:16 AM UTC
DREAM IN THE DARK
Backed into a corner ,laying low looking forlorn why can't it simply be bright in the morn
Brightest entrance steering me across the house's floor,one step too many dropping again below another dank cellar door
Maybe moments saved in reserve so all the danger is a temporary stranger,laying in wait like the next storm
How often have we been blinded by bliss,feelings hidden by a warm kiss that carries to our core
Images split when lacking grit our common way is with wit,some days linger ,will it sap all our strength to mourn
Blessed are the babies with basic needs,growth desires deep energy ,adding life in layers ,good or bad but always more
We let our minds play fancy, not reaching in to deep just gently dancing ,silent edges become the norm
Nothing old is near what we can not feel can not be feared,simple suppression now a common daily chore
Many may plead to open up,hard to pour from an empty cup,what can be built with an empty form
Rock solid not even a blink,emotion controlled through a wink,stone cold ,lacking passion leaves little to explore
Long buried inhibitions can't make an exhibition, keeping commotion buried will just leave us harried,sometimes facing rearward can leave us reborn.R.C.
Nov 6, 2017
Nov 6, 2017 at 3:50 PM UTC