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Literature Text
A crowding of beacons,
Surrounding the beast,
Of a star-lit gaze,
We shall feast.
Collapse of the mind,
Control overthrown,
Laughter a matter,
One outgrown.
The sirens and yells,
Scream in my head,
This beast a cryin',
Dying instead.
A feast shall stop,
To help this thing,
"Please get better,"
We shall sing.
Harmonious we cry,
To the wailing dead,
Beast come alive,
Rest your little head.
Surrounding the beast,
Of a star-lit gaze,
We shall feast.
Collapse of the mind,
Control overthrown,
Laughter a matter,
One outgrown.
The sirens and yells,
Scream in my head,
This beast a cryin',
Dying instead.
A feast shall stop,
To help this thing,
"Please get better,"
We shall sing.
Harmonious we cry,
To the wailing dead,
Beast come alive,
Rest your little head.
Literature
The Beast
the beast
an onyx mass of fur and muscle
unloved and untrusted
a giant by night
a shadow by day
and when its veil is lifted
spears and arrows and bullets
piercing skin, seizing crimson geysers
until the stream of life depletes
and the beast lies down for its final rest
in its fading dream it hears
soft-purling creeks and intertwining rivulets
chirping wrens and crooning koels
and the hymn of nightingales
ushering it to warmer lands
it feels
damp mud arounds its toes
cool to the touch, sweet to the scent
the wind's soft caress
a mother's tender lullaby
it sees
cattle prancing over hills and fields
and when they see it near
they do not shy
Literature
For a Beloved Friend, A Blessing and Funeral Poem.
When the road you walk is dark and shadows fill your dreaming head may there always be a glow upon your path ahead.
And may you always hear, even in your hour of sorrow, the placid singing of the spirited lark.
When times call for hard work and perseverance never may your heart nor soul turn to stone.
And may you always remember:
When the shadows fall and bog your path you do not walk alone.
May love and laughter always lighten your days, warm your heart and your sense of home.
May good and truthful friends be yours wherever it is you roam.
May peace and plenty bless your world with a joy that long perseveres.
May all life's passing seasons
Literature
nearsight
i.
my glasses have always evoked
pity and scorn and quiet admiration in equal measure—
invisible to those who don’t look through the lens.
they are too big on my face,
resting atop a hawkish nose
too large and
unbecoming
for any young girl.
ii.
nearsightedness,
the optometrist called it.
My mother said it was because I
read too much in dim light—
read until my naked eyes couldn’t
see anything but smudges of color, frontal vision
translated into monet landscapes.
iii.
my eyes are indiscriminatory—
the space between stars
is just as important as the stars themselves—
to my pupils, they ar
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I have completed a poem.
The beast is symbolic. What it symbolises, is up to your imagination.
Enjoy!
The beast is symbolic. What it symbolises, is up to your imagination.
Enjoy!
Comments5
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It's kind of haunting, but I like it 