Harmonious_Echos

Harmony looks at Wyvvern(whose tongue is still hanging out), then Kikuyu, then Degorram, curiously. "Who is Orlan? I would like to meet this Orlan, and see if he is as sexy sexy as you say."

Harmony's eyes widen, as her gaze takes in the dress, Wyvvern's expression, and Kikuyu lying on the floor. Her muse shivers and shape-changes into a tall red flame...her eyes change color to a deep purple. Then, to everyone's suprise, she begins to giggle hysterically...her face flushing pinker and pinker until she distinctly resembles the hot dog lying in her lap. She laughs for approximately 10 minutes straight, her entire body flushing bright red, and causing everyone in the barbecue to look at her nervously and mutter under their breath.

Finally she gasps, coughs, chokes, and stops, tears rolling down her cheeks. "Oh, oh..hehehehe...Aahahe, your faces...D-Don't worry. Don't worry! It's changeable."

She grins up at Wyvvern, an unusually toothy grin, for such a ladylike-appearing girl. "It's Almost-Magical Brand Chameleon Silk." She stands, shakes out her dress, and a ripple of rich, dark reddish-brown barbecue-sauce color spreads from the stain outwards until it colors the entire dress...including her skin, which stays bright red, and hair, which changes to a dark chocolate color. She winks at Kikuyu. "Nice moves! Wish I could do that..." She turns back to Wyvvern, who is staring at her uneasily. "Oh, Muse doesn't really have a name. Or a personality, actually. She's a she because I am...but I just call her 'Muse'. The Nine have names, though. Muse is just the conduit for The Nine." She looks expectantly around(wondering if she can still eat, now that she's sauce-colored).

Here's a few more, first some REALLY old ones...the first two I wrote when I was in 8th grade, when I first met Muse....and then a few from my high school years(when I was really into having everything rhyme and rhythem out just right), and then a few later ones, better ones, towards the end.

 

 

Friendships

 

Friendships

Small fragile circles

Swirling colors of sadness

Or joy

A school of bubbles

Fading, brightening, tempered

By words and thoughts,

By dreams and ambitions

Small groups of humanity

Taking life as she comes

Some bubbles pop,

Flinging anger and hurt

On to others as well

But after awhile

A vagueness of youth

Gives way, as we find

Our own version of reality

Bonds strong, walls high

No newcomer can break our shells

We must open of our own will

And let new friendships grow

 

Pass me by

 

You who are my friend,

(You make me laugh, on days that are gray

If you would stay my friend,

(When you see me, I will smile)

Don't pause—

Don't stop or look deep into my eyes

Don't pause

Don't try to lift the mask on my face

Because if you look beneath

You will not see anything at all,

I am a hollow, empty, breathless shell,

Of what I used to be, in

The days when I was truly me..

You who are my friend,

(A bright flower in the desert of life),

If you would stay my friend

Don't—don't pause—

Pass me by

 

The Adoption

Bitter-sweet-

This tiny One I held

For but a moment-

I wonder as I wander though the hallways of my soul.

These tears, this joy,

this pain-

Will it ever be enough?

Small one,

So soft, so warm, so helpless,

So very mine—

Yet never was and never will be mine.

My heart sobs for your scent,

Trembles at your cry,

Just one more glance, one more touch-

Just one, and then I’ll go and let you be-

I’ll send you off to live your life

without me

Don’t cry, you’ll love them-

They’ll love you-

But never while I still draw breath

Will I forget this,

my

Bitter-sweet

moment with you…

 

I Am the Queen

I am the queen of unjust smiles,

secret plans, hidden files,

I creep around a question asked-

then run for miles.

 

I’m Empress of mournful cries,

stained hands, reddened eyes,

I never care, I do my task-

but in disguise.

 

I share with you this piece of Fate,

Love and trust, never wait,

my heart was lost between the lines-

now it's too late.

 

The Poplar and the Willow

The willow fair and poplar grow

side by side on a hillside green;

together they watched o'er the forest below,

and the animals, grass, and weeds.

 

The sturdy oak and the pine watched too,

Side by side on a hill nearby

They watched o’er a busy, and militant spot

Where a city soon came to rise.

 

They stood tall above their fast-paced world,

Looking down on it all with pride;

Until men with saws came and cut them down

To build scrapers for the skies.

 

The oak and the pine once mocked the two

as they guarded their simple spot;

but the poplar and the willow wept

when they saw their friends' trunks cut.

 

The poplar and willow were kinder than

the oak and the pine had been;

Though if you are any kinder than I

still remains to be seen.

 

This Too Shall Pass

It was long ago o'er the darkened fields,

'mid the clouds of fatal gas,

That a colonel beckoned his private near,

and he said "This too shall pass."

 

It's been longer still since a mother wept

for her daughter was breathing her last;

As she died, the child looked up and smiled-

"Don't cry, Mummy. This too shall pass."

 

Far out at sea lay a sinking ship,

ripped by enemy cannon blast

And as the sea buried broken bodies

it whispered "This too shall pass."

 

The ship has rotted, the mother is gone,

and the fields are covered with grass-

Though your hope be worn and your life, war-torn,

Just remember, This too shall pass.

 

 

Limerick

A portentous young Porpoise one day

declined to leap in the spray

Said He “’Tis most cold,

And as I’ve been told

I might freeze right to death as I play.”

 

RATS.

Are they rodents?

Or neighbors?

They scurry, crawl, pay taxes.

Burn trash in barrels.

Peek in my windows,

Scoffing,

At my lack

Of a tail…

 

Chaos’ Snowflakes

 

We sparkle we

Sing a song of sixpence

Read A Catcher in the Rye

See Baby’s little thumbprint

Baked in the pie

The silverware all disappear

And the Doggy in the Window

So kill another Mockingbird

And hang your head low, love

Like Jack Frost’s merry snowflakes

We all dance for Mother Nature

And as the sun rises and falls

We shine, in a chaotic life

 

 

Riddle

She wears the scent of autumn

mellow and sweet and bright

When twisted ‘round with cinnamon

Christmas comes to mind

Merry, she flowers in spring-time

Picture a Robin there;

And in Autumn you see her

With jewels in her hair.

 

Of Caramel Apple Dreams

 

Candied apples in the fall

once spoke to me

of lanterns

of campfires

warm summer nights

and overnight trips to the lake.

But now candied apples hurt my teeth

and lanterns hurt my eyes…

somehow

campfires are drear

mosquitoes hover, ever near

and even summer nights

are cold

when you’re older…

Lakes grow into swamps

grow into meadows

and time unmerciful

spoils even

my candied apple memories.

Count me in!

 

I'll be the daughter of the Miller, A Miss 'Sisie' Susanna Caroline Dean...age 11, brown hair in pigtails, always dirty, loves to explore everything and anything, loves to invent strange creations, and posessing of a particular love for one-upping the town boys in all things...

*Harmony peers around the corner, hair falling gracefully around her eyes* Ah, a new face! Welcome, Welcome to this unhallowed hall of creative thoughts...

Or, you could just do it the easy way, and NOT try to explain how you can say in words what is beyond them...just write it anyway! The attempt of writers to discribe what is undiscribable, is what writing is really all about. If you don't want to use a sentence or a 'spoken' phrase to discribe the feeling of this communication, then you could try to say it by discribing the emotion that is felt...

O My Gawd....and I thought I knew 'dumb blonde'!!! I gotta copy this for my sister, she'd crack up...like I am now...that is soo awesome...Someone should seriously put that scene in a movie!!!! they'd make a killing!

Degorram, I really liked the poem too...I thought the rhythem was a little choppy, but it still worked well, probably better than I could do it! In any case, I see a lot of truth in the phrases "children of disaster", and the whole last stanza...I especially liked the part "all can't see with thier own eyes/that life at all is living". I've felt the frustration at humanity in general, that we so often take for granted the things which should be most precious to us, and lose sight of what life really means, in the rush and chaos of living.

Great poem!

*Harmony goes off to beat up her muse, to try to wake her up*

Uuh...huh....

Heh...makes me think of all the folk dancing I used to do with my parents...*sigh* ah, memories. My mom and papa were (and still are) the best polka-ers I know...

Harmony arrives with her accompaniment, a ghost-like muse with a lute, floating above and behind her. She glances dreamily at the food, then decides she's not hungry, and politely seats herself as close to Wyvvern as possible without seeming too forward...or getting barbeque sauce on her cream-colored silks from Ran-Yoko's avid munchings. She arranges her dress and her muse and begins twiddling a strand of golden hair between her fingers, attempting to think of something witty...

A young maiden in a cream-colored silk gown catches sight of the red-hair from a tower window and waves goodbye...

I like the way your poems have a rhythem to them, a certain beat...even without an actual rhyme scheme. I especially liked "hope", the way you ended it with one word. Keep writing!

See, I can write OF love...but never of being IN love...not romantic, just depressing...

Two Hearts in Love

 

We are two hearts in love

My soul, my eyes

A heart that longs

That lingers with a gentle touch,

And too, a heart that cries.

We are two hearts in love,

My self and I

A heart un-shy

Ravenous and cunning

Starving for excitement.

So we feel shame

And shamefully take our prize

live just to lift our bloody trophy high;

And my two hearts weep to be clean

Of our sweet, ghastly sin.

We are two hearts in love,

Our hour is near

For ending love’s embrace

Forevermore.

 

 

In the Dark

 

Feeling my way in the dark

I strike a match

On my calloused heart

And watch it burn awhile

A candle’s no use here

This darkness surrounding me

Is a part of my soul

My tears fall, pointless now

Like the match,

Falling dead from my fingers

Light gone

Leaving me to feel the burn

In the dark again

 

How To Warm February

 

What do you make of February?

The coldest month of the year-

The most drear--

A time best spent in school,

Spring dances,

Or otherwise huddled

In groups to keep warm.

And yet, for all its many

Weatherly problems,

It is known to many

as the month for love?

Perhaps our dear

Saint Valentine

In all his wisdom recognized--

That a little love goes a long way--

and love is by far

The best heater of them all.

 

For a tree’s life

 

I wish that I could be a tree;

I’d fly fast and far on stiff wooden wings,

Settle deep into dark, forgiving earth,

And there begin to grow.

I’d turn out my leaves fresh and new every spring,

And put my flowers on display for awhile,

Birds might nest in my branches,

Children might carve their initials,

And I wouldn’t need to care.

I’d bend when the wind blew,

Revel at the Sun’s touch,

Stand naked outdoors in the coldest of winter,

And sigh softly for joy when the rain fell,

Using my leaves and branches as the instrument

Of my happiness.

Thanks, AuroraAoD!

Here are a few more poems...

 

Old Temptations

O Temptation,

Dear Old friend-

Have you come a-haunting me

A-haunting again?

Standing ever by me

On Razor’s edge I’ll tred;

While you teach the facts of life

Night is Black, Blood is Red.

You must hold your foes close

but hold your friends away,

lest they become too close,

And know

to get away from you…

O Temptation

I'm feeling your old flame

Have you come a-haunting me

a-haunting

Again?

 

Trapped

Sinking

Choking

lungs screaming for air

it is hard to die-

still harder to live-

dark water

foaming over my eyes

Over my head

bubbles fleeing from my sight--

The frenzied scrabble

of my hands

slows, and now

my head is throbbing

with the nearness of death

Dark water whispering

sleep, sleeeeep…

yet my numb fingers close

around a car's door handle

and I am free!

Soaring up

breaking the surface

gulping air, my heart racing

Realizing

I will not die today!

 

Magic Lantern

I am a genie in a golden lamp

My magic lights the way for others here

Yet, trapped inside my cell I cannot see

The light that shines from me

 

You are the genie in the lamp I hold

Your magic lights my pathway through the night

I wish to break your bonds and set you free

To shine for all to see

hehe...

'Yikes'! 'quoth I, 'pon reading the last bit

how do I write of Pain, knowing of it?

For pain with knowlege makes a poison drear

which brings on me paralysis, from fear...

Interesting...very interesting...can't say I understand any of it, but it's got a lot of good descriptives, makes you think. Just not quite sure it makes me think about..except insanity...

Very, very good....much better than the works I saw on Poetry.com...I especially liked the one about shifting time, that rang true for me as well...a sense of being trapped in one's self, unable to leave or change. That's what I got from it. *retreats back into own cell*

A Cheshire tho' this cat be, not,

his claws t'were sharp, and breathing, hot,

and I, a-spying over him

could not deny his Cheshire grin

13. yet another female pennite - reverie (thanks for your help with my poems)

Erm...reverie happens to be male.

 

true, true...that is why it's so tricky to find and write about subjects that so many people can relate to. I think you've done that, though. Congrats!

Acutally, I have a hard time writing poetry that isn't entirely free-verse and/or depressing in nature. Most of my works are written when I'm feeling bad! For instance, Dusk to Dawn, Gecko Dreams, Grey Day, Memorial, Twilight, and After the Beginning are all about sad or bad experiences. I don't have many romantic poems! Here are a couple I'd call 'romantic'--

 

Motorcycle Ride

 

My laughter building,

Bubbling up in me on a summer’s evening

A motorcycle ride, just you and I

My mind is spinning,

Full of your scent as we are riding,

So close, my arms wrapped tight around you

 

Wind, fall far behind,

We two will conquer you--

Sing in our ears a harmony

We are

in tune

 

For I’m feeling the way we fly

Feeling the stares of passers-by

In their eyes I see their envy

As we roar on by

 

Road, lead us onward, forward,

Casting our eyes ahead

Our cares far behind

Smooth and free,

we’ll soar

No secret care could break,

or take, this magic from us

 

My heart is burning,

Wishing this ride would never end,

Feeling the chill of sunset, washing over us

So sad to go, I don’t even want to leave

Twilit stars winking their pleasures

At us down below

Out on our motorcycle ride

 

Baby I lied

We were eager once

In the springtime nights together

And I held your heart

And I know that you held mine

I have come to know, now

That all we have together

Rests on those sweet hours

Those sweet hours that will never come again

I know you love me still

I know you always will

I love you too

You know I do

Oh I have tried and tried

To stay by your side

but I lied when I said I was true

I love you so, but Baby I just can’t stay with you

 

Ice Cream in the Rain

 

Do you remember that sweet march day

Just barely warm enough

To go out for ice cream

Do you remember the thunderhead

that rolled on in

While we sat under the Dairy Queen

sunroof outside?

 

How we laughed and shivered

As the rain poured down

How the thunder crashed around us

And we minded not a bit

Mixing ice cream and rain

With kisses

And as spring broke around us

It lifted us up in a flawless joy

As the years go by

And we toil in strife

We often forget how much we have

And in march, when the wind

Is blowing thunderclouds in

Can we still eat ice cream in the rain

 

See what I mean? None of those are any good at all, except maybe the motorcycle one...and even that's not great. I'm just not good at expressing my romantic side in poetry...

I like how clean this poem is. It invokes the strongest imagry and thoughts with the shortest and simpliest words and lines. There's no one excess and nothing more needs to be added. This is indeed a work of a mature poet. Very well done.

What he said!

I too have dreams of flying, which I've had for years, very strange thing about them, I had to teach myself to dream that way...more on that in my other posts!