Understanding Poetry - Dead poets society
Understanding Poetry - Dead poets society
Fear stokes that mighty, wretched ego,
Blame to wear suffering’s glorious crown;
Hatred’s bowels, bellows the flames of blame,
Anger’s rage to beat the humble spirit down.
While diminished light, upon darkness gaze,
Remembrance of vanished dreams of dawn;
Keeping those rusted, old relics of regret,
Dawning the day of dusk, tending the elder’s lawn.
Mourning the winter’s rain, upon summer’s reign,
Wither upon autumn’s breeze, born again spring’s dream;
Withholding love’s embrace, guilt of ego’s desire,
Broken into never again, bracing soul shattering scream.
Tears broken, scattered to dust of never-morrow,
Reaped by the grim winds, away the sorrow blows;
Silent so loud for none to see, below the surface waiting,
Knowing the might beyond flesh, the power of souls.
Ignited within doubt, to overcome ego’s dark dream,
Enlightened knowledge abound, exploding soul surrounded;
Self controlled expression, beyond compassion of kind,
Ties to the infinite divine, simple miracles astounded.
Shriveled vines produce no wine, yet fruit simply sweet,
Revived, renewed, trusting patience of ever growing time;
Not to doubt knowing, soul recognizes spirit’s blessings,
Soul never ends, infinite recycling of energy sublime.
Riding through the darkness bound,
creeping along without any sight;
listening quickly for every sound,
heart beating harshly out of fright.
Echoed footfalls upon solid ground,
searching desperately for signs of light;
insanity slightly tugging all around,
as consciousness threatens to take flight.
Seeking for semblance, a sanity to be found,
making fists, swinging in a futile fight;
unknown whether winning or losing the round,
just wanting something to simply go right.
Hoping for the day when head is crowned,
longing for a bigger world so very bright;
lungs filled seeming as if to be drowned,
after all, this should be your first birthright.
I am lost in a wasteland;
the wind blows through my soul.
Buried under the sand;
it is freezing or below.
Surrounded by this darkness;
no one else can understand.
I cannot escape this loneliness;
as I reach out my hand.
Alone, I am fading to black;
wishing only to be in the light.
Dying from love, I lack;
trying to win this fight.
Frozen by this winter breeze;
my soul is ice blue.
Smothered by this disease;
thawed by love from you.
Once upon a time, there was this little man;
who built his home upon a hill of sand.
He worked, and he played, a little everyday;
and he reveled in the joy of his little plot of land.
His tranquility he sought, was not store bought;
not found in any market, not even within the sea.
His peace it seemed, was not when he screamed;
rather it came from knowing himself to be free.
Young he came to this little hill, to cast his lot at life;
with big dreams, huge hope, and a lot of pride.
Now weathered and beaten, but not dare defeated;
this humble, withered man sits, upon his porch, denied.
He lived a good and righteous life, before this man died;
his house crumbled, came crashing down today.
Only his memory remains, until I also pass away;
then nothing will remain, of this man’s brief stay.
Time sublime, tumbles through my mind;
Playing back sweet memories, endearing to remind;
So much hope for the best, so many dreams to quest;
Nevermore to request, nor to inquest;
The little things taken for granted, twisted and slanted;
Thankful for the love, the seeds which were planted;
Grown apart yet bound together, no storm we couldn’t weather;
Heavy burdens alone we gather, paired become light as a feather;
Even through strife, no longer my wife;
This pain cuts my heart like a knife, I will miss you in this life.
Tears to fall down the face,
Time growing never to replace;
Life living to fill this empty space,
Destruction left to our disgrace.
A fevered pitch to quicken the pace,
A hurried attempt to finish the race;
A limp to burden without even a brace,
A head to hold high while marching to grace.
I heard a whisper on the wind,
whistling I love you along the breeze;
tickling my ears to bend a grin,
flowing through my mind with ease.
Slipping away, into the trees,
that wind twisting, blowing a love tune;
passing gently, weakening my knees,
filling my head, just like a balloon.
Chasing that wind, trying to catch it,
always fleeting, just out of my grasp;
expanding passion, keeping the flame lit,
exploding, punctured as if bitten by an asp.
That wind continues to whisper, to and fro,
slowly wandering, whistling a song of love;
a kiss in passing, as it blows on the go,
awakening souls, a tender hug from above.
The wind whispers through my soul,
whistling as it passes over the hollows;
wafting, gently twisting to and fro,
steam vaporizing to fill the shallows.
Drifting along the waters the current slows,
quickly cooling chilling air above gallows;
eventually bogging down within the icy floes,
frozen stones as ego’s pride swallows.
She slithers into my mind, coiling around my brain;
gently squeezing, to let me know she is still there.
Nibbling at my cortex, driving me somewhat insane;
before she swiftly slips away, to hide from her fear.
Her venom coursing through my body, so she will remain;
within my blood she lives, though she hides herself away.
I know she will return, for her love she cannot restrain;
paralyzed I sit, tainted, waiting for that fateful day.