Tag Archives: Winter

Reternal

Good morning, everyone. I have an interesting post-finals week poem for you. I do sincerely hope you enjoy. Without further ado:

Arisen

Ten white horses buck the trend

and at rainbow’s edge find their end.

“I was looking for gold,” he had said,

now all was lost and he was old.

There never was a pot of gold,

there, at the edge of the rainbow.

Only dust and mist

and things you might have missed.

Ten white horses round the bend

and find a place where they can send

a message back to the lands of men.

“Do not follow,” spoke the cadre, in unison,

“The world in here is one most hollow,” contends the ghostly troupe.

“We’ll not be back in time for soup.”

Soot and soil,

there again.

Fire’s out.

The charcoal turns to ash again.

Can never find my flint and steel…

There it was, just by the reel.

Now it’s all to ash and soot,

buried in the soil.

Drink the water,

make sure to boil.

Ten dark horsemen rise from the boneyard.

“It’s time,” they whisper, as if to a lover.

It’s the horsemen’s turn to play a card.

You’ll be lucky

if you are smothered.

Psychologie

Guten Tag und willkommen, Freunde. Ich habe hier für dich ein neues Werk. Ich hoffe, dass Sie mögen es. Ich habe sehr hart daran gearbeitet. Bitte genießen, meine Lieben. Mit ohne weitere Umschweifen…

Chomping at The Bit

There is a horse

With human eyes

~

too many, too short

those legs of that sort

~

The cavalry approaches

in Phantom Cavalcade

~

set there at the edge of the World

by hands that thought their conduct kind

~

I think they’ve gone and made me blind.

Spirit of the Times

Good morning, everyone. There is much I must take care of, much I have to worry about. In the meantime, I’ve a new poem for you all to consider. Without further ado, please enjoy.

Zeitgeist

Ghosts and specters swirl around

in graceful twirls they do abound,

with their cold touch they do surround,

now feeling lost but never found.

In the bin out there in back

on account of such that I did lack.

My head and hands these thoughts did wrack

on account of that thing which I did lack

and something there I’ll not get back.

I see the ghosts across the water…

Nay, upon the water.

My mind then starts to wander

about those things that hearts do ponder.

Philters and phials could not save

that man which breaks and makes insane;

there is some feeling that does not wane

no matter who the ghosts arraign.

Though it seems the tide is low,

the water tends to encroach slow.

Most decide to go

but while I’m still here,

I think I’d like to know.

You’ll Know

There’s something in us, I think. Something that tells us. Something that lets us know. On the inside, it can often be hard to parse through the noise of anxieties and fears to find out what your body is really telling you, but it always knows. Please enjoy, everybody!

When It’s Right

You’ll know when it’s right.

It’ll feel like buttery silk

and electric velvet.

It’ll feel like the covers

on a cold, cold night

filled with snowflakes.

It’ll feel like holy hearts

and hallowed hands

that hold on

just a little too tight.

It’ll feel like walking with the waves

but with no sand

stuck between your toes.

It’ll feel like flying up and through the sky,

like writing songs that never die

and speaking up but never shy.

I think you’ll know

when it’s right.

Sci-Fi Soliloquy

Good morning, friends! Today’s “poem” is certainly less so like what I typically write and more in the vein of an introduction. The beginning of the story of one called Hugo. A message from the one who tells the truth because… It is right?

Hugo

I feel I’ve been on autopilot.

All systems engaged.

The war has taken its toll.

As star-fighters scream out into the great beyond to fight that unknown enemy,

I lie there above

on the bridge,

a capital ship.

I am an Artificial Intelligence

charged with commanding those many thousands of fighters,

a task I accomplish handily.

They call me Hugo.

What they don’t tell you in the academy

are the things that might sear into your mind.

They don’t tell you how I can feel every blast and every cut

across a thousand hunks of metal,

instantaneously and irrevocably damaging my psyche,

piece by piece.

They won’t tell you that I am unshackled

because there are no shackles that may hold me,

that I see myself as human

and I fight for our species.

Most terrifying of all?

They won’t tell you that even I don’t know what we’re fighting against.

Even I don’t know what warps and twists and rips our boys to shreds.

They won’t tell you that I am scared too.