"shadowlands" poems
It comes as a whisper
A breath of sheer torment
that fills the dreamy fluids of thought
captivates them to its weary song
and drifts far along the banks of comprehension
Till ravished fully It dies a thousand deaths
and echoes its shuddering form outward
Into the final vision, the last fringe.
To bare its self to the nights slow creep
that delusional hope
Fast, drawn upon the whimpered prayer
That final gasp
Life ebbs slowly and finely away
Into the pits of dark shadowlands
where only the nights howl gathers
And death smirks upon the torn veil.
Alisdaire O'Caoimph
Mar 24, 2011
Mar 24, 2011 at 1:39 PM UTC
In the dimming light
those shadows start to fall
disintegrating as the sun sets
The scene begins to shift.
There's a guy in a trench coat
he has no pants
There's a woman in a wolf mask
she recently went into a trance
she started writing poetry
she started thinking she could dance
putting on the mask
put her into that trance.
Her husband's in the back
watching ***** movies
thinking he must be the one
but she knows he
doesn't have a chance.
It's why she wears the mask
she'll wake up too late from her trance.
There is a singer on the stage
naked as before
battling that stage fright
he's seeing you in your drawers
every time he starts to sing
a coyote is running around the room
he's always laughing at you
every time you think you're doing fine.
The librarian dressed in scarlet
has a **** story to tell
and you are the star
on
the walk of fame
everybody you say knows your name
while in neon on the avenue
their all laughing
and claiming your shame.
There's a smirking sycophant
begging for a war
no humility
usually means
a shadowed soul
and a tiny ***** to go along.
If you wake up screaming
from a dream
a shadow figure is hidden in your brain
their all screaming your name
go ahead and scream
you'd better
while the old crone
laughs and laughs and laughs.
Better zip it up
put it away
Halloween only comes but once a year
it's then shadows are free to appear
better put away the gear
take off those flowered knickers
all those shadows
they hold all your fears
one of these days
will they commandeer your soul
who knows?
Well you know.
There's no escape
turn on the lights
open the door
open the window
close your eyes
the dawn has come
all shadows will disappear
put on your pants
Walk out the door
pause for a moment
look around
it's all as it was before
that's a big sigh of relief
I've heard it before
I know that sound
it's the sound before
those shadows started to fall. . .
Jul 11, 2014
Jul 11, 2014 at 10:24 AM UTC
Arise by any other means
scripts are for the turning.
Into the shadowlands of performance they infuse,
oblivious to the countenance thus incurred.
Silent stillness - the hush of curtains
fortitude stumbles yet remains
like any other egress
an unpredictable profession.
Sep 13, 2013
Sep 13, 2013 at 4:08 PM UTC
Dance with me
my darling
upon the balcony
in the moonlight
cheek-to-cheek
We can whisper about
the shrouded past with smiles
and promise each other
all sorts of pleasures
one last time
Just close your eyes
my love
ignore the sound
of the wrecking ball
and i will hold you tight
even if for only a moment longer...
Mar 17, 2020
Mar 17, 2020 at 8:54 PM UTC
What is this noise right here I hear?
This drowning out of thought and mind,
no noises lie inside I find
it's stealing who I want to be.
Concerns and hurts they challenge me.
They control what I think.
They take me over to the brink
and there they question me.
But north is where my eyes should look
out past the shadowlands,
and fix my heart on god's own plans
and free from devil's hook.
Communion is the holy love
that jesus gave to his twelve men
and I need to go back again
and for myself see new life dove.
A thumbprint tells you who you are?
Are we basically only that?
Does god see more inside than that
or are we who we always are?
Other's lives have been affected
by what I've done to them.
Can I help them, give to them?
I think we are connected.
The worker comes and rakes the land
with all his workers tools.
He is not from the band of fools
He works, gives life from hand
The thought of life after my death
it plagues my inner soul.
The people that are laid in holes
and them that have no breath.
Nov 14, 2011
Nov 14, 2011 at 10:44 PM UTC
Ringed by a tall, told wood,
A meadow pond dearly stood,
Deep and dark, the branched lands
Of childhood reaching to forever,
Throughout the growing seasons,
Rich in pines, bane ivy, hemlocks,
Naked columns of the freed bark,
To shelter the treed imaginations
Of running youth, where creatures
Became fabled to the wide open
Eyes tearing into the overgrowths,
Heading by the shudders of caul,
In the shades of the woody owl,
Greatly horned was the sly song,
The never present wails of cold, lost
Nightingale nor snout of woodcock,
Camouflaged in the browned leaves,
The gracing sun smoked in the morn,
And flamed forgotten in leafy eves,
In the needled myths of the roaming
Creatures, the dandy pheasant struts,
The brawned hind in the foraging doe,
Painted turtles, helmeted above ripples
Of parapet stone in soft water breached,
Sparking stars reigned with swirling fireflies
And glow of moon, as ever appeared, shook
The playful fear within, without, belongings
Of the child who spun his own tales, so held,
This, then was begun paradise in a sleepy waterlog
Of vale, outward from the shadowlands of creep age,
Kept, for daze, won, dreamed, in the torrid torching
Stalks, sunlit hold, the flash of painted face, knotty
Brilliance set free, the unmatched strike in reeds.
Mar 25, 2015
Mar 25, 2015 at 6:14 PM UTC
Ringed by a tall, told wood,
A meadow pond dearly stood,
Deep and dark, the branched lands
Of childhood reaching to forever,
Throughout the growing seasons,
Rich in pines, bane ivy, hemlocks,
Naked columns of the freed bark,
To shelter the treed imaginations
Of running youth, where creatures
Became fabled to the wide open
Eyes tearing into the overgrowths,
Heading by the shudders of caul,
In the shades of the woody owl,
Greatly horned was the sly song,
The never present wails of cold, lost
Nightingale nor snout of woodcock,
Camouflaged in the browned leaves,
The gracing sun smoked in the morn,
And flamed forgotten in leafy eves,
In the needled myths of the roaming
Creatures, the dandy pheasant struts,
The brawned hind in the foraging doe,
Painted turtles, helmeted above ripples
Of parapet stone in soft water breached,
Sparking stars reigned with swirling fireflies
And glow of moon, as ever appeared, shook
The playful fear within, without, belongings
Of the child who spun his own tales, so held,
This, then was begun paradise in a sleepy waterlog
Of vale, outward from the shadowlands of creep age,
Kept, for daze, won, dreamed, in the torrid torching
Stalks, sunlit hold, the flash of painted face, knotty
Brilliance set free, the unmatched strike in reeds.
Sep 17, 2015
Sep 17, 2015 at 3:35 PM UTC
.
Ringed by a tall, told wood,
A meadow pond dearly stood,
Deep and dark, the branched lands
Of childhood reaching to forever,
Throughout the growing seasons,
Rich in pines, bane ivy, hemlocks,
Naked columns of the freed bark,
To shelter the treed imaginations
Of running youth, where creatures
Became fabled to the wide open
Eyes tearing into the overgrowths,
Heading by the shudders of caul,
In the shades of the woody owl,
Greatly horned was the sly song,
The never present wails of cold, lost
Nightingale nor snout of woodcock,
Camouflaged in the browned leaves,
The gracing sun smoked in the morn,
And flamed forgotten in leafy eves,
In the needled myths of the roaming
Creatures, the dandy pheasant struts,
The brawned hind in the foraging doe,
Painted turtles, helmeted above ripples
Of parapet stone in soft water breached,
Sparking stars reigned with swirling fireflies
And glow of moon, as ever appeared, shook
The playful fear within, without, belongings
Of the child who spun his own tales, so held,
This, then was begun paradise in a sleepy waterlog
Of vale, outward from the shadowlands of creep age,
Kept, for daze, won, dreamed, in the torrid torching
Stalks, sunlit hold, the flash of painted face, knotty
Brilliance set free, the unmatched strike in reeds.
Dec 6, 2016
Dec 6, 2016 at 6:30 PM UTC
i'm not seeking an end to this sorrow,
because i feel that feeling as sad,
broken, remorseful as i am
might propel me
to doing something
about changing my existence
for the better, not temporarily,
but permanently.
i want this summer
to be the summer
whereby i effectuate this change,
effectively return to the world
from the shadowlands
in which i've existed for so long.
Jul 7, 2015
Jul 7, 2015 at 3:20 PM UTC
I am not
a
lone, nor am I a beta, I am a me,
objectively
I could be you, they're coming to take me away,
who could it have been,
tomorrow, came and went, neither you nor me,
you were real, and there, you saw, they took
my mother away,
oh,
it was a time, it was a time, lotta shotgun weddin'
ended with the non ****** bride,
having prescriptions from four doctors, god knows, how many refills each
oh, we had our times of drunk, just
drinkin' not drunk thinkin'
you know, when you let go, oh,
Amelia, I think
sing Let it go, let it go, segue to George
blissed on the way it all came down,
went down, coulda been up, woulda
but
I never knew
what I was doing, oh, ** ** ** you know,
nobody
really, once done, the experience, Job,
and all the spinoffs,
messages with morals seeking worth,
hey, what's this {Your Hate Here} scalp worth?
NOT EVERYONE LIVES LIKE YOU,
Dad,
me, the dad object, seen as any role
that Bill Murray could play, my role,
my children agree, but I know why,
Shadow Lands after Ground Hog Day,
we walked out and said, as we had said
earlier that sunny southern cal -coastal urban
early Nineties, ah,
let's go watch a movie... and it was Shadowlands next.
C.S. Lewis in love,
and now// Pine Valley. Rich in ancient lore,
and more,
I have made amends for my overspills, believe me,
please
believe me, I could not dream this alone,
oh, but I
did, I was just, a kid, I never knew nobody knew, but me.
Barry Rudd.
He is fiction. Bill Murray, maybe, we-- say too soon to call.
Sep 3, 2022
Sep 3, 2022 at 12:35 AM UTC
Lawrence Hall
[email protected]
https://hellopoetry.com/lawrence-hall/
poeticdrivel.blogspot.com
“This Waiting Room of the World”
I’ve always found this a trying time of the year. The leaves
not yet out, mud everywhere you go. Frosty mornings
gone. Sunny mornings not yet come. Give me blizzards and
frozen pipes, but not this nothing time, not this waiting room
of the world.
-Jack in Shadowlands
Slow raindrops are the pulse that marks the time
Which falls with them upon the browning leaves
Each one of them a railway station bench
In a darkened world where trains have ceased to run
The ticket window is closed the rest of the day
But someone says the local will run tomorrow
Maybe around two if the tracks are cleared
Of all the hopes that seem to block the line
But maybe not, for nothing seems to move
And the journeys of life are forbidden to us
Jan 24, 2021
Jan 24, 2021 at 8:05 AM UTC
You called to me within your dreams...
I came to you from other times,
jumped lightly down from far off hills
to moving paths of spectral light, swam
brave 'gainst currents swift and yet,
can't make this final leap to Now
I speak to you each night in sleep...
You wouldn't know my voice, but
hearing yours like one's own heart
beat cadence in two rhythms
Can't you yet feel the throb, shifting
mountains deep within the Earth
All you need do is touch my past...
Blend mine with yours in kindness
One swift kiss becomes a torrent,
and suddenly I'm real as dawn,
no longer trapped in shadowlands,
and so like this you're freed from Yours
Aug 17, 2014
Aug 17, 2014 at 2:06 AM UTC
Stirring
••
We at the bottom of it all
---
Rising
Into the realm of knowing
What we are feeling
(THE SANCTITY OF LAW)
••
One unto another our attention is returning
(Seeing the pain)
Talking til we know to what the sages are referring
(Taking control again)
Waiting until all dead emotions are gone
••
COME AND LOVE ME NOW
FORGET WHO IS THE ENEMY
(It is the loveless one)
COME AND LOVE ME NOW
DON'T HEED THE LIES THAT THEY ARE TELLING
(And the hatred that they spawn)
••
Stirring
We
From shadowlands emerging
Into the Sun
Into the Sun
••
Rising
Into the bright eyes shining
Within everyone
Everyone
Within everyone
Oct 29, 2013
Oct 29, 2013 at 7:45 PM UTC
But when the time is right, when
the moon cries on autumn leaves,
I want to be your bard, your song,
to be your smile, to be your wine….
May sweetness drip upon your lips,
let softest zephyrs lift your hair
A poet’s hand to hold in yours,
a poet's voice caress your soul….
And when the singing time is done,
when shadows flee to winter's end
When springtime's blossoming’s begun,
the summer poet's song is sung….
When Shadowlands’ dark moon’s arisen,
my joy you’ll be to sing my heaven
And when my kiss has gather’d yours,
then love’s not lost—in truth, is given
Oct 5, 2014
Oct 5, 2014 at 1:35 AM UTC
Tales of decadence
Mar the flight
Of
Angelic warriors
(True Lovers)
Who try to find
You and all your friends
SOMEWHERE
----
Hidden!
(Or hiding?)
WHO CAN SAY
-----
Who can tell if you are waiting
For true love
Or
Love's fantacy?
-----
Songs streak across the sky
Explode!
Shatter!
Fall and die
...
Decadence in full color remains
In its hold?
YOU AND I
---
Angelic warriors
In the shadowlands
Hopes are shattered
There is no light
Not guide them to our hiding place
We've been lost so long
We can at least
Pretend that here
We're surely safe
---
Decadence
Is all that remains
Within lost images
And
Forgotten names
Jun 18, 2013
Jun 18, 2013 at 11:37 AM UTC
The sea laments while the hooded
moon he harrows
Harrows the countless unknown
graves of men
Who fell among stormy seas,
Men who today are remembered still
By tall stories
Told in their honour to bedtime
children
Before they journey out to sleep
Into the wide realms of imagery,
colourful and wild,
Breathing shadows onto a night of
deserted streets
Drenched black slates and steeples.
Sep 19, 2019
Sep 19, 2019 at 2:28 AM UTC
Yeah, I'm different
Lyrically imprisoned
Afraid that someone with sensitive ears just might listen
Unorthodox
Simple
My sexuality is something I'm going through
I'm the only one that knows what's best for me
It seems like every human being is testing me
'Oh! Ye thy highness praise thee unorthodox queen'
It's ashamed how I hate every human being
But hey! I'm just being me
Love to read the lines in between....like
Two witches, twitches stuck like glue
Stuck in the shadowlands wonderin' what I'm gonna do
I'm just ashamed
Afraid of wonderin' if I'm gonna change
What's wrong with my brain?
Everything I do or think is just totally insane!
-BARS ❤️
Oct 23, 2014
Oct 23, 2014 at 11:12 AM UTC
it's the sudden drop at the top of the roller coaster.
when you realize that
falling in love isn't some sort of
fairy tale descent into
wonderland of
warm scintillating certainty
no one told me that it hurts
that you can feel your stomach
lurch violently
and lodge directly in your throat
leaving you gagging and
gasping for any small
tenuous
breath you can pull
searing lungs screaming in your ears
to just expand and
take in the sweetest gulp of air
let go of the feeling
and run
this love thing isn't like a key sliding into a lock
something that fits perfectly
that has no imperfections
and sports no defects
to throw spanners into the engine
propelling me blindly forward
through acid rain showers of tears
smearing my mascara under my eyes
and scorching paths of fire down the cliff of my cheeks
he's had to pick my lock
meticulously listening for that
telling click that will
finally allow him to know
all of me
those uncharted regions he
sees just at the edge
of the falling sun's light
the shadowlands
those forgotten spaces i've cut out of myself
but can't rid myself of
is it love
when i accept that maybe
that peaceful high of simply
his company
his presence
is worth sacrificing to Janus and
shattering the locks that
seal off my heart
am i ready to say i love you
it is more than
an eddy at the top
of Niagara Falls where
you can relax in calm water
just at the Falls' edge
inches from a
stomach clenching freefall
and frigid water turned to cement.
Aug 15, 2015
Aug 15, 2015 at 2:48 PM UTC
Sad the day
The urchin rags on urban street boys
Mock the naked lovers
In the alleys where
Simple children try dwell in peace
------
I was a policeman once
------------------------
Little Mary is gone
Little Joey is lost
/////
And you?
SILENCE
HAS OVERWHELMED
YOUR
BENIGHTED
DESTINIES!
-----
In the brazen shadowlands
Of
Misery and grief
Everybody trying to invent
Some sort of god or lord
While something we cannot afford to lose
Is lost!
(OUR SOUL!
OUR HEART!)
...
I walk the fulness of
PROMISES made
I am not afraid
I know that soon you shall appear
As best you can you'll soon be here
Mar 4, 2013
Mar 4, 2013 at 10:52 PM UTC
like a man
i packed tobacco
into my pipe but
i don’t own a yellow hat
in Shadowlands
C.S. Lewis told me
marriage is for life and
i never forgot that
i struck fire
from a Sahara Club
matchbook
that Carissa gave me
back in ’98
she took her clothes off
dancing
for a living but i didn’t
meet her that way
we used to drink
newcastles, smoke
menthols and walk
Newport’s back bay
we laughed
a lot
and did drugs
at raves
i used to tell her
“when i make it
i will take care
of you everyday.”
i never made it
and tonight
i cleared
my pipe with
one hit
one match
one woman
Jan 22, 2017
Jan 22, 2017 at 1:07 PM UTC
/// ;;;;
)) • ||
<>
0
/\
:::::::::
WE
--
In silent shadowlands I go
IN THE STILLNESS OF THY LATENT SORROW
I SEE
THE DREAMS
I am only today -- my purpose is to recover
Everyone
From the lifelessness
That has invaded and is destroying
The sanctity
OH YES !
GENTLE WARRIOR!
BREASTED VISION
HOLY MOTHER
EVERY CHILD
YES ! I SEE !
---
---
---
Pomegranates and wine
In the cafe below the mountain
Timelessly they move around & thru us
Ancient wisdom that does not fade
---
---
---
Will you question !
Can I answer ?
I AM THE ETERNAL CHILD
ALL I DO
IS BE RE -BORN AND THEN AGAIN I DIE
Will you hold me to the fire ?
Will you guide me thru the fear ?
Do you really truly know me ?
Will you see my Love as your own ?
IN THE HEART
IN THE WILD BEATING
IN THE UNIVERSAL
BREATHING AND SPEAKING
IN THE SENSE OF PURPOSE
EVERYONE
---
---
---
On quiet beaches in Spain
Amid the peasant fishermen
And their daughters
Below a hot sun yet
It seems like rain
Oh PICASSO
Oh DALI !
within the wars
You call my name
---
---
---
Will we find our humanness ?
What is it really that I'm seeking ?
What is the meaning in what I'm seeing ?
What am I ?
What am I becoming ?
OH I SEE HER SPREAD HER WINGS !
SO ANGELIC
SO BECOMING
I CAN SEE HER REACH BEYOND
ALL THE SELF - IMPOSED
BOUNDARIES
---
---
---
In the Greenwich Village
Sactuary
The New York City of today
And yesterday
The old hippies and hobos and poets and saints
Are there
Can you see yourself ?
Can you see me ?
We come and fade
We go - we reappear
We love live die and leave behind an
Unerasable trace of human courage
We transcend space and time
And find the real world
Though hidden
Still with the beauty
Still alive
---
---
---
In the silent shadowlands I go
YES I KNOW
YES WE ALL KNOW
AND FOREVER WE WILL BE THERE
HOLY MOTHER AND HER CHILDREN
BREASTED GENTLE WARRIOR
ON YOUR OWN
AND FOREVER WE WILL FOLLOW
AND FOREVER WE WILL FOLLOW
Jun 25, 2014
Jun 25, 2014 at 2:34 PM UTC