Silver WInd

Nice to see it posted. You did a great job with it. And I can attest to the fact that this is a very difficult style to work with as I myself had attemtped to write in this style but have not produced anything I truly felt was good enough for posting.

The sijo is a Korean form of poetry, it is a three line poem with a total of 44-47 syllabels, and 14-16 syllabels per a line. A sijo may be made up of several three line stanzas.

Traditionaly Line one respresnts the beginning/problem/situation

line two is called the development also known as the trun

and line three is a strong conclusion with a twist or surprise.

Awakening

Passion awakened like wild fire within the warrior’s breast

as time spread he blazed his trail across the grassy plains

to meet his final end upon the days first show of snow.

Modern Sijo

The modern sijo does not have to stick to the three line rule, but the syllable count remains the same.

Sunburst

Suns fire burst

streaked across the sapphire sky

golden yellow radiance reflected

its own image

in the sparkling lapis lazuli

waters down below.

The stars are like

The many eyes of

Venus, looking down

upon me

from the heavens

above, where I am

free to dance in the

light of the moon

This is my best efforts to write in the style of Sappho, based on my reading of her work. There are three sperate poems.

#1

I was struck by an

Arrow from Eros, now

I falter in my reason

Aphrodite deceives

me, so you catch me

in your beauty.

#2

We were as one

Dancing like Pan

wild within the

woods, where nothing

can take from us

a freedom found in

Artemis' sanctuary.

#3

They promised us

There would be music

to play from dusk to

day, but I only heard

silence ring in

my ears, as if in

the night time.

Winter’s Breath

Barren trees left quivering

a single leaf still dying

winds kiss sends it shivering

with their chill spirits crying.

Hush winter's breath awaken

her white tempest churning

a land now thought forsaken

deep inside lies a burning.

A passion left undenied

drawn close in fires flicker

the winds wail unconfined

within their spirits bicker.

I really liked this, I loved the lanague used, and I thought it all flowed very nicely, some great imagery as well. Just one little thing I noticed

At your beauteously scarr'ed face

This line seemed a bit awakard to me, and broke the flow from the rest of the poem, it did not roll off the tounge as nicely as some of the other phrases and words used.

Hehe yes, just been in that kind of mood I suppose.

Acutally I used rythmatic on purpose, I sometimes invent my own words for my poems if I am not completely happy with the already exsisting words.

Caged

Eyes wide shut

stare vacant

into the skull brain.

Dripping steady

rythmatic beat

against the wide-split

grin.

A broken clock

only twice right

in the dusty den.

Pipes squeak

like rattled bones

something knocked loose.

All teeth turned

to tallow with a taste

for whiskey and gin.

In the darkness

grime yellow light

flickers in electric hum.

Unknown fluids

etch their way

to slit open drains

ready to suck it away.

A hungry slurp

razor-edged tongue

some unknown monstrous

thing.

This is the sum

of bad dreams

and reality

twisted into one.

Thank you, I cannot take credit for the style though I do not know where it oringinally came from or what it might be called. I happend to have read a poem by another whom did this, and I liked it so I decdied to give it a try myself.

Little Bird

She watched out the window

as the world passed by

trapped behind the glass

as seasons changed.

Rain drops matched her tears

sliding their gray streaked

tail as the wind howled

its pain.

Lost inside herself

she only dreamed of sunshine

the clouds pointed her pictures.

Only to herself she wept

where there was no one else

to see, when the sky was

dark.

But oh how the stars shined

and for a moment she felt free

to dance among the sky

a caged bird set free.

She watched out the window

rain drops matched her tears

lost inside herself

only to herself she wept

a caged bird set free.

Thank you for your comments, yes I can see what you mean about the 5th stanza being confusing, though I don't really like the idea of using a question mark in the first stanza.

Thank you, yes I have kind of moved away from using punctuation from a lot poems

I will go fix that, I am terrible about remebering to add apostrophes

Beauty Defined

Beauty is in the mind's eye

but how do we define it

with words or phrases

do we ever weigh the meaning

of these words?

Is beauty a lie,

a deception

or the only pure truth?

Beauty found upon the

tilt of butterflies wing

soft bloom of April spring flowers,

it may be perceived in

sky reaching towers;

city lights on a moonless

night,

it comes in many forms

shapes and sizes,

sights, scents and sounds.

Does the artist make beauty?

Or may beauty truly only be crafted

by the ones whom declare it so.

Has anything ever been nature

or man made, universally

beautiful

or does everything

have a side in

shadow?

This is one of my odd abstractions

Atomic

Disjointed lives

souls in fragments

our lies fractions

of the truth

an illusion

disembodied

by scattered

figments of

reality.

Time skips

a beat

as we try to discover

for the briefest

of moments

we felt it

then it all

unwound.

Left spinning

in orbit

our molecules

dissolve

into the ether.

Everything just

a scent

of air.

Thank you and, yes it should somehow that one slipped by my notice

Ghost

For a moment

I saw the glimmer

reflected in the mirror

but when I looked

back again

she was gone.

My heart filled

with terror

and passing lights

flashed

into my consciousness.

I tired to

shake the feeling

but the whiteness

of her form was

so clear.

For that brief

encounter

which forever

left me speechless.

Could my heart

recover

the will of

imaginative forces

bending my sanity.

Nicely done, really loved the imagery and the concept

Thank you

Where the Magnolias Grow

I remember the grove

just like yesterday

on a fresh spring day

when the grass was green

and the skin blue.

But there was such

a sweet breeze to touch

the air, and it carried

the natural perfume.

I would run there

with my feet bare

and without a single care

for all the world.

Daring in between sunbeams

and shade, I was invincible

in those precious rare moments

where the earth moved under me.

I remember the magnolia trees

with there virgin white blooms

so big and ripe, somehow

they seemed so other worldly

for all their presumed innocence.

So soft to the touch

each opening and waiting for the pluck

so much like the plush milky white

of freshly bloomed breasts

making the change from adolescents

to womanhood.

I would lie upon a bed of

their ivory, soft petals

each kissing and caressing

stimulating, as a gentle

lover.

But the magnolias

are there no more

sometimes I still imagine

I cast a whiff of their fragrance

hear them calling to me

from some far away place

Yet their sensual innocence

shall be lost to me

and spring days begin to

fade into endless yesterdays.

Black Widow

Her eyes

black suns

burned around the edges

she stared into empty space

waiting for the next shooting star

Her hair

a wild tempest

of the wind

with tendrils of crimson gold

flying free without binds

Her skin

silken caramel

scented in lavender

and rose petals

glossed with moonlight

Her voice

sounds as a siren

drawing in unwary souls

to twist within her web

of dark desire

Thank you

Postcard

Such delight

that can be found

contained within

a small square

Splashed in color

of rolling green

strokes of blue

and little flecks

of life

An escape

into another world

a place far away

where you imagine

a loved one down in the

warm sand or sailing

over mountain tops

Offers and promise

of hope and happiness

given scrawled upon

the back

Where joy is brought

lighting the heart

to think you are

somehow special

to be brought into this

world in a single square.

Thank you

Thank you, I do like to do somewhat rather bazzar things now and then.

Honestly if I managed to get some good insight then it means you presented your imagery and poetic symbology in such a way and with enough skill as to allow me to do so. Which is sayin' sumtin. Cus I's just a big ol' troll...wit da club!

Well thank you for that.