"strider" poems
And after, there is only a gaping emptiness
the familiar ache
The desire to drown myself in soft things
Fill my pockets with pebbles and all the poems my muses will never read
And wade into the Lethe
To the place of the first breath after momentary pain
The liminal gasp between sighs
The first touch after a long absence
Body awakening to memory.
*Welcome weary traveller, you are safe here. Dwell. Abide.
The scrounging scratching crawl you call a life withdraws.
Here,
Float in the fingers of sunlight through glass
The murmur of breath against hair
The glimpse of ripples from a water-strider’s gait.
Here,
You are small and safe
You suffer no harm nor cause it
Your existence has curled in on itself
And blooms with the sunrise.
Here,
Your presence is a fleck on a robin’s egg
The bruise of teeth on a petal
An eyelash in sand
Lost, lingering, and longing.*
The Lethe plucks the pebbles and poems into the current
Your likeness billows with ink in the wake
Adrift, I clutch at your fading hand
But rising, find I do not know this face
Left only with a flicker
Of a stranger’s arms
around my waist.
Aug 12, 2021
Aug 12, 2021 at 9:05 PM UTC
August before the arrival, cloud water hearted, Yula drift, long Sasa, Laji a monk's footsteps, I walk alone, walk in July.
Breeze disrupted my thoughts, I will stand in which to stay, at what station will also continue to drift, but life was however, learned to understand life, to understand life, learned in this way and the way the landscape room becomes indifferent, learn to be a wanderer. (Yiwu export)
Standing on the junction of the season, I do not know the years makes us hurry, or we go hurry.
Earth road, Journey, life mountain water a ride a ride, who can use words of happiness and sadness to resist the pace line prime years. I like the night, a person can go to find quiet in the memory, to the longing to stray, along the way, seen the earthly noisy, bustling seen the world, I think I should be quiet, give yourself a little heart lake, let my heart sink to the bottom of the lake, guarding a suitable melody, so that I can put down his heavy heart. Let yourself get a little dry soul to rest, get a little water moisture.
How many nights like repeat such feelings.
I do not know, tonight the cold moonlight cut the silence who dream? (Yiwu buying agent)
I do not know, who are independent of Migiura up for ages?
I do not know, a cappella blowing a flute in the moonlight hurt much Red?
Youth wind gently blowing, will we gradually grow, gradually happiness, sadness gradually, gradually, we are lost.
Our short life is to experience something, meet some people came. Some encounter in life, like gentle wind, snow, like (yiwu export agent) purity, should meet, then please cherish each other, give each other a warm smile, a warm hug, Xiangxi too, cherished, Should really gone, maybe not leave any regrets, I remember your world I have been to in my life have your shadow. Vicissitudes of time to write more than just wandering, there was a Shizumori, a quiet beauty. Sketch moonlight, I write and draw, describe all the thoughts became a ****** pieces of painting, set into roll of a roll, hidden in the depths of my heart, you can go to wait until spring, waiting to all things prehistoric, waiting for the world to the next reincarnation.
Life, melodious, memory or stranding, go learn to really make a person do a lonely wanderer. I was alone silently took years before the trip, like the horizon of their Su Yi Strider, became a vagabond, wandering around the world.
Aug 15, 2013
Aug 15, 2013 at 5:00 AM UTC
Strider is red
Egbert is blue
They're gay for each other*
Like I am for you.
***
Gamzee is purple
Terezi is teal
Their love's a bit different
Because hate's what they feel.
***
Meenah is fuschia
Vriska is blue
Cute lesbian couple
P badass too.
Dec 3, 2015
Dec 3, 2015 at 3:19 PM UTC
Reality was bereft
As your head,
Caresses the pillow
A night deft.
As I hear the crickets
Lagging behind, I
With you on the way
To dreamland with a ticket.
Don the Hatter's Hat
In Alice's Wonderland.
As we sip tea
With Rabbit and the Cheshire Cat.
Be large or be small
Eating chocolates
And muffins
Down the rabbit hole.
A carpet of wings
We fly over
The Caspian, The Aegean
To where the Siren sings.
Three headed dog is yours
A gargoyle, mine.
Little pets we walk
Down Tartarus's corridors .
Europe behind, we face
South West
To the land of Mayans
And folk of a mystical race.
We play war chief,
Play in our blue tepee
Flying on the backs
Of eagles as they screech.
You dance around
My fire
Gyrating in that form
Bringing rain down.
Purple Rider
On a wind maned horse
Black One on a
Golden strider.
Barfights and shootouts
Brawls and scuffles
You gained a puffy eye
While I broke my stout.
Seeking a view
We jumped from
Skyscraper to skyscraper
Old and new.
Jumped from hills
Into rivers
Spoke to the wild
For time to ****
Wary of the time
We take flight
Off the Everest
We just climbed.
Down and down
Into a sea
Coloured silver
Bubbly diamonds all around.
No lack of gas,
You put swimming to the test
Tripped on a rock
A jellyfish attacks!
Boom and Pow
Wham, slam and
A big crunch
Little jellyfish said ow!
Get stuck in traffic
Office hours
We suppose
As the birds swam chaotic.
We're here!
Portal to reality
Now exposed
By now the dream was dear.
Maybe now you can't see
But we will,
The sun rise,
From the bottom of the sea.
So we wait
As the sea turned
Silver to fire
A nice first date.
Aug 12, 2015
Aug 12, 2015 at 10:07 PM UTC
here's a tale I will tell
of the supreme Master
of Rivendell
elfin Lord, just and wise
knowledge deep as elvish skies
darkly handsome, unearthly fair
silver circlet, midnight hair
greatest Power for him alone
eyes as deep as river stones
grey and lustrous, holding grace
broad of shoulder, fair of face
aquiline nose, chiseled jaw
Master of the Elves. Their law.
of his mercy his people sing
possessor of the elvish Ring
one of three, such Power possessed
he's the Lord, and thusly blessed
he's seen grief and was forsaken
his beloved wife was taken
to Mordor and was in suffering bound
with the Orcs deep underground
father of the maid Arwen
who's in love with the human King
deep pain of mind, Elrond's aware
that he must leave this daughter there
in human kingdom Middle Earth
for her love has lifetime worth
but Strider will soon pass away
while Arwen has immortal days
though her love's surpassing fine
she will one day weep and pine
without her husband, all alone
for her people will be gone
they will one day sail far
following an elvish star
and of Frodo he's aware
the Hobbit will go to Sauron's lair
generous, gentle, yet supremely strong
he will help Frodo along
elvish war-mail and provision
he directs with great vision
noble King of Rivendell
at once gracious
yet mighty, fell
his word, ever,
is his bond
Hobbit friend
the great
ELROND
SoulSurvivor
(C) 2/5/2016
Feb 5, 2016
Feb 5, 2016 at 10:54 AM UTC
Rangers edge of the city
August before the arrival, cloud water hearted, Yula drift, long Sasa, Laji a monk's footsteps, I walk alone, walk in July.
Breeze disrupted my thoughts, I will stand in which to stay, at what station will also continue to drift, but life was however, learned to understand life, to understand life, learned in this way and the way the landscape room becomes indifferent, learn to be a wanderer. (Yiwu export)
Standing on the junction of the season, I do not know the years makes us hurry, or we go hurry.
Earth road, Journey, life mountain water a ride a ride, who can use words of happiness and sadness to resist the pace line prime years. I like the night, a person can go to find quiet in the memory, to the longing to stray, along the way, seen the earthly noisy, bustling seen the world, I think I should be quiet, give yourself a little heart lake, let my heart sink to the bottom of the lake, guarding a suitable melody, so that I can put down his heavy heart. Let yourself get a little dry soul to rest, get a little water moisture.
How many nights like repeat such feelings.
I do not know, tonight the cold moonlight cut the silence who dream? (Yiwu buying agent)
I do not know, who are independent of Migiura up for ages?
I do not know, a cappella blowing a flute in the moonlight hurt much Red?
Youth wind gently blowing, will we gradually grow, gradually happiness, sadness gradually, gradually, we are lost.
Our short life is to experience something, meet some people came. Some encounter in life, like gentle wind, snow, like (yiwu export agent) purity, should meet, then please cherish each other, give each other a warm smile, a warm hug, Xiangxi too, cherished, Should really gone, maybe not leave any regrets, I remember your world I have been to in my life have your shadow. Vicissitudes of time to write more than just wandering, there was a Shizumori, a quiet beauty. Sketch moonlight, I write and draw, describe all the thoughts became a ****** pieces of painting, set into roll of a roll, hidden in the depths of my heart, you can go to wait until spring, waiting to all things prehistoric, waiting for the world to the next reincarnation.
Life, melodious, memory or stranding, go learn to really make a person do a lonely wanderer. I was alone silently took years before the trip, like the horizon of their Su Yi Strider, became a vagabond, wandering around the world.
Aug 15, 2013
Aug 15, 2013 at 5:01 AM UTC
All that is gold does not glitter,
Not all those who wander are lost;
The old that is strong does not wither,
Deep roots are not reached by the frost.
From the ashes a fire shall be woken,
A light from the shadows shall spring;
Renewed shall be blade that was broken,
The crownless again shall be king.
Feb 22, 2015
Feb 22, 2015 at 4:20 PM UTC
Sometimes, when stillness of the heart
is not enough, mind extends to landscape
unbounded and floats like a helium balloon
in the depth of sky.
It begins with streaks of light, the naming
of trees, ponds open like black blossoms,
misted lakes, the sea placing its many fingers
on the endless revels of gold bays.
The road may be mossy and slippery
as old stones ; rows of summer
swallows may rise from random wires.
As mountain strider or keeper of forests,
let love lead me south to warm nights
where stars burn through clouds.
Let the voyage end in tender words,
perhaps a clasp or a kiss. Let the faithful
ebb and flow of time join the fragments
of me in exile from myself.
Mar 31, 2021
Mar 31, 2021 at 4:54 AM UTC
He lazily wonders, "would it be best,
to manifest,
this array as a poem?"...
Dribbling, drabbling, splishing and splashing,
Summer's scorn whirls unlashing.
Gutter strikes throng cluttered pipes,
filled to burst before crashing.
Concrete delta, chizzled from steel,
devouring, steadily, it's only meal.
Here to stay, but ready to leave,
they swifly pass throughout their eve.
Porch roof wet, drip by the drop,
along the guardian's shielded top.
The sky yields for the setting sun,
but in the night, the bombers run.
Booming strikes desparetely fight
to enter the darkness, and win back the light.
So many things, all the same,
block mountains, laying their claim.
Slicing into theatrical waves,
luck guides as a strider braves.
Running as well, the Tempest to test...
both he and the storm, the other one craves.
Sitting back in his safe little home,
the boy becomes worried,
of becoming too grown.
"How to put into words..."
"This moment may never be seen again."
"Almost gone... lost to the birds..."
"Holding on between a thought and a pen."
Jul 17, 2015
Jul 17, 2015 at 1:21 AM UTC
We stood around and sent her soul back to heaven
sweet glory to light Good Bye sister Trinity Seven
we the last will fight hard for all that have fallen
in this battle of three worlds none will yield, till all are gone
To the code of arms to the strider's of stars
you will be remembered as a sister of Mar's
we will hold your banner in battle and coat of arms
blessings to our Majesty and your hidden charms
By Christos Andreas Kourtis aka NeonSolaris
By NeonSolaris
© 2012 NeonSolaris (All rights reserved)
Note by the way you have not seen the Trinity Seven writes... I will endeavour to find them and post ... 5 poems ... lol I will find them lol
Nov 27, 2013
Nov 27, 2013 at 6:46 AM UTC
This is for all those sweet, those silly girls
Who painted up their eyes and lips and cheeks,
And sallied forth into the sparkling night
(Short skirts, crop tops, spike heels, dishevelled hair)
Intent on mischief, laughter, dancing, fun.
There was a time when I was one of them;
But luckier than them, I came back home,
A bit the worse for wear, a little drunk,
A little sick, sometimes a little bruised;
But nothing that a good sleep couldn’t cure.
These girls came home (if they came home at all
And weren’t found stark and cold in the waste grounds
And alleys) changed beyond recall;
Never again to know that careless joy,
That freedom to be silly, to be young.
I may not curse him, by the threefold law;
But ask you, Mother, in your winter guise,
The hooded crone, the washer at the ford,
The blue-faced strider of the barren hills,
Exultant glutter of the raven’s maw,
Girdled with dead men’s entrails, hung with skulls,
To wreak your vengeance on that greedy wretch
Who took these innocent sweethearts for his prey;
Transform his blood to venom in his veins;
Make each breath choke his lungs with acrid smoke;
Turn his limbs leaden and his shrivelled heart
(So hard already) into molten iron.
Comfort the victims and avenge the dead;
And pour his poison over his own head.
Feb 9, 2017
Feb 9, 2017 at 12:07 PM UTC
Down by the mud banks of Skunk Creek,
checking out the meniscus up the water strider's legs,
waiting for the bullheads to spit stones into a Roman mosaic,
hoping the undulating green algae would flow auburn
like the hair of Venus blown by the wild gawking turkeys
in the tall grass. But that's another museum.
That's a different day in the gallery
below the bur oak bowers
where the cottonwood seed floats on a breath
as if examining the probability of falling too soon
upon the water.
Aug 3, 2019
Aug 3, 2019 at 3:07 PM UTC
i know no bliss like getting lost within
the endless expanse of your genius.
trace the chasms of space-time
right to their origins: a big bang
rupturing split atoms, sending
every ounce of matter cascading
into the blossoming cosmos—
spiraling outward for all infinity,
unfurling like the petals
of some intergalactic carnation.
i cannot fathom a better metaphor
for the majesty of your psyche.
you are the monastery where i seek
solace from this miserable existence.
i could stand amidst these hallowed halls,
stretching out all around me,
admiring the stained-glass windows
set like so many precious stones
for all the days of my life
and still come away dumbstruck
by their effortless incandescence.
let me bend back the pages of your brain
like my favorite book: well-loved, highlighted,
and fit to burst with the scrawling pen
of my annotations. feed me, Dark Strider.
nourish the broken bits of my spirit.
wild and free, unbowed, unbent—
you answer to no one. you deserve
nothing more and nothing less
than a thousand-thousand poems
written to commemorate your existence.
you are an encyclopedic library displayed
in kaleidoscopic multicolor, i want to drop acid
and wander, psychedelic,
through your neurological pathways
from this day until my very last.
if i could, i would fold this world
like a map to bring me closer to you.
you incite deathless joy
and take away the pain.
your mind is the cathedral
where i finally find god.
May 30, 2019
May 30, 2019 at 11:13 AM UTC