Ragnarok - III
"These ruins have been empty for too long. They ring no more with scarlet laughing flags. They echo not the peal of sparring arms, Nor cries of joyful brotherhood of war. They were not always silent. Once they shone Undusty, undecrepit,...
Ragnarok - II
The sun was gone. The only light that shone Was a reflection off the fading sky, Yet faded not the gold out of the roof, For, at the touch of darkness, fireflies, Lit crisp like Christmas candles, Appeared and turned the leaves to paper...
Ragnarok - I
Somewhere it was autumn, and the trees Hung undecided, torn between the fear Of concrete skies and black obsidian nights And clung to fading leaves, yet still they felt A dark desire to let the summer drop, To scatter to the wind their...
Ragnarok - Prologue
"Amidst the journey of our life I awoke in a dark wood" - Dante Alighieri, _Divine_ _Comedy_ "In the clearing stands a boxer and a fighter by his trade And he carries the reminder of every glove that laid him down Or cut him till he...
I Ask Myself How Is It I Have Come
I ask myself, how is it I have come, Still so far from the sunset of my days, (I pray tis not yet sunset on my days) Unto some chamber in the maze of life Where it is possible to hear you say 'I miss you' and 'I feel your absence in The...
I've Lost Count of the Homes That I Have Lost
On the plus side, i think this "sonnet, blank verse, envoi" form has promise, it needs a name though. i've lost count of the homes that i have lost. one time too many i've been driven out.
I Think About Revenge Most Every Day
I think about revenge most every day. I pray for it, to it. I draw its eye. I hive its hissing hornets in my heart. I wear its mask and mantle. People say They do not understand how you can live Like that. No more do I! Yet nonetheless I must...
Accompanied by Tornado Siren
I do like the sonnet/blank verse/ rhymed envoi pattern it produced. i think it deescalates and escalates similar to the way that musical theatre might use breaking into song, lapsing back into dialog, then having a big finishing number.
Account of Presumed Ecstatic Experience during Initiation Rite in Unidentified Mystery Religion
It doesn't really matter how I died. Whether of time or tide or tiredness, But after this, the journey of my life I woke, to find myself in a dark wood. The way was lost, the night was long, and I Was more alone than I had ever been. It...
Autoimmune Scarring of the Myelin Sheath
The coming summer heat looks to be cruel As ever it has been. Grey autumn can Not easily come soon enough for me. And what an evil fate is ours, my love, That such embittered words should ring so true. That at the highest loft of light and...
power of ideas (poem)
Sorry if it sucks, i dont write poetry very often. blank verse and haiku's are all i got :p confusion words words words, so small, they are an idea words cant cut skin or crack bones words cant stop bleeding or