Silver WInd

Thank you

Second draft:

The world knew no other song

but the twitter of the birds

dancing upon the clouds,

and there was no melody

but the brush of the wind

through trembling leaves

among the trees.

A soft trickle from a gentle

flowing stream resending

into the thunderous roar

of a great waterfall

or the oceans rapid beating waves.

A percussion of a thunderstorm

and woodwind whistles

from the will-o-wisps

falling with a soft cymbal tinkling

of rain drops,

these are the sounds

the songs, the melody

of the world.

Masquerade

Her eyes watched

from behind the mask

while the music played

from somewhere far away

Drawn by the song

she drifted away,

leaving a trail of feathers

in her wake

Ascending each marble

step within the spiral,

alone but for the burning flame,

hidden away in the shadows

She accelerates with each

stroke that beckons and guides

her way; heart beating faster

for fear the silence will come

before she uncovers the mistro

Images dance within her head

lust and love clashing together,

cloaked behind crimson curtains

draping along dark windows

A moment that stretches on

beyond time; lost within the maze,

dazzled by each new disguise

which passes over watching eyes

Her fingers slide along

the wall which undulates

before the fall of the melody

A keystroke rings the chime

of a clock; the witching hour

struck its final tune and

there the costumes fall away

A dream that shimmers

to unravel and beneath

the veil reveals the truth

which falls like a hammer

of a heartbeat

Yet there remains

upon the floor a fallen

mask and a few floating

feathers bejeweled in black

pearls and ribbons of silk.

Dawn A New Day

Spread my wings

and fly away

Shed a tear

and hide away

Close my eyes

and dream a new day

On my knees

begging you to stay

If I could breathe

I'd run away

Never a word

I can say

Spread your wings

and carry me away

Together we will enter

a brand new day

You always know

the words to say

From this world

you'll hide me away

I know in your arms

forever I'll stay.

I like the basic idea behind this poem, but I feel over all it is weak and could use some work, any suggestions welcome

The world knew no other

song, then the twiter of birds

dancing upon the clouds

the brush of the wind through

trembling leaves within the trees.

A soft trickle from a gentle

flowing stream, and the thunderous

roar of a great waterfall,

oceans rapid beating waves.

The procussions of a

tunderstorm

wooodwind whistles

of will-o-wisps

and soft cymbol tinkaling

of rain drops.

Maelstrom

Still the beating heart

a breath of the wind

gentle strokes

rake the skin

Stirring deep emotions

to tempt rising fires

tangled in the vines

dance upon the air

Steal the soul away

into the labyrinthine caves

lost through the ages

sacred wells of

pulsing power

Where the voices

never die, a whisper

always in the sea

awakening tampered dreams

Visions blurred in illusion

opium dream

of long distant lands

balanced on the rocky ledge

Fall away into the Maelstrom

and stare deep into

those dead eyes

where once the moon

is hovering

Before the dragons mouth

swallows down the egg

and sheds its scales

chocking on its tail.

Thank you for your comments as always

I really like it, I thought it was very tocuhing at the end. A rather interesting concept. It seemed to me to be about the muse.

This is beautiful, it paints such a lovely image. I love your use of langague

Sunburst

Suns fire burst

streaked across the sapphire sky

golden yellow radiance reflected

its own image

in the sparkling lapis lazuli

waters down below.

Gossamer Wings

A tear in the gossamer wings

the powder begins to flake away

while flight becomes impossible

only a reoccurring dream

such colors that no longer mean anything

overtime will begin to fade

weighted down by the pressed print made

another's mark born like a brand

A shred of iridescence

no longer each band of vibrance

speaking as one in a single voice

now just guttural sounds

a lesson in aesthetics

how quick anything can be made ugly

with only a twist of asymmetrical disharmony

Tears tumble down

only to wash away the essence

now trapped within the self-made bubble

understanding begins to seep in

how gossamer can decay

and leave in its place

only echoes of former beings

unable to survive outside

psychedelics.

Sun Child

She was raised in the sun

a sun with heavy lided eyes

that never did wink;

stretched across the sky languidly

Crowned in golden light,

she liked to dance among the flowers,

flowers of yellow that never slept

And above in the sky

the bright fire-orange eye

watched with a steady gaze

that grazed upon the skin

She never dreamed

for she never closed her eyes,

but she danced in fields of amber

in the light of day;

a day that is never vanquished

A child cradled in warmth and radiance,

her eyes seemed to shine

in illuminated innocence

born by the shield from darkness and shadows

Yet only a half-lived life

beneath the watch of a sun

that never smiled

without a purpose.

Thank you. I offered the explaination just to clearify Yog's questions.

Currently the poem is still a work in progress.

Thank you, it has given me something to think about and ponder over.

It is sort of mythology based. The basic idea behind the poem is about an ancient and surperior race which had once lived long before man kind, but with the birth of humans, they began to be pushed out by the human race, and now humanity is destorying the world, and there is nothing those who lived before can do to stop it, and they are regretful that they did not try and act and stop mankind before it was too late.

I really like this, I love the reaccuring circle them, and the concept of the cycle. It also has some great imagery

I feel there is something off about this poem, and that it is not quite complete. It is not strong enough for my personal taste, but I still like the overall concept of it, but I cannot put my finger on what is lacking.

Any suggestions welcome.

The Old Ones

We have lived for over 100 years

we know what has begun

but now we feel the end is near.

So alas we may finally rest

for so much that has been lost

we'll just fade away into the night,

night that will last for eternity

in the dark we can close our eyes

and never think again of what was compromised.

The earth is no longer ours

powerless we watched it taken

now at last they destroy themselves,

and release us from our bonds

to embrace the sweet oblivion

maybe soon there we can forget.

Our memories erased

and pain obliterated

of our loss and our guilt.

For all we should have been able

to rise our voice

strike a fist

but already weary

we let it pass

gave way to the dying age

now we just want to disappear

cling to some remaining visions

before the last remnants evaporate.

No I do not mind, but the revised version has too much of a "contemporary" look and feel to it for my usual personal taste. I will write in more contemporary styles and forms only on rare occasions and when I am using it to make a specific point.

I like it

The Death of a Swan

Stolen waters frozen in time

by winters breath

chilled tombs

the houses of the dead

beauty found among the graves

rigid they stand in the wake

But a hush

with ghost like appeal

in the way the feathers dance

corpse like elegance

for the ones that are

symbols of romance

Gentle are the leaves

that scatter adrift upon the water

where reflections gaze back

with the eyes of the moon

and death

But to embrace

this sweet darkness

feel the pulse it offers

here there dwells the deep

true soul.

This is beautiful with such lovely imagery

Thank you for your coments as always

A Girl With No Name

There was a girl

who had eyes

that saw the world

in a gleam of

harsh yellow light

for just a moment

for those who know

all is revealed.

She had the touch

the curse which was given

through the metallic nights

of black and yellow

somewhere dusty

and rank where

the roaches can watch.

She could fathom

herself a Madonna

her tears the stigmata

but it was upon her thighs

she bleeds.

How could such a one

have any end but

a tragic one

her body left

but there would be none

to make a Saint of her

as she lay unknown

just as soon forgotten.

Oh wow, I really like this. Wonderfully done. It evokes such strong emotion.

Life Force

A page is just waiting

for a name

the fresh ink through which

it can breath and pulse

with life.

The force

that holds within

all those withering souls

for once set free

as they are spoken.

You can almost hear

the whispers

is it your release

or the tightening of chains.

Struggling with this

creation, unfolding

peel by peel.

Questions of mortality

truth obscured

reviving the corpse

to spring before the eye.