Thread Rating:
  • 1 Vote(s) - 5 Average
  • 1
  • 2
  • 3
  • 4
  • 5

Poetry

C C Offline
Wrote and posted a precursor version of this three years ago. Used it in a Halloween GIF back then, then shelved it after that one go. With the season coming up and drawing a blank, I decided to dust it off and radically revise and rearrange it for a new animated avatar. It's mildly sad that the browser dictionary and grammar watchdog don't even know that "scrying" is a word.
- - - - - - -

October Portents

I may have seen the Grim Wife once
In a tall grass glade where the gray cat hunts.
Why she grieves so long after loss
Spans beyond my ken, too cryptic to cross.

Some hedge a boding widow's task
With warming solace from a drinking flask.
Trust they have in such spirits known,
But not those exhumed, oh not those wind blown.

I may have heard the Grim Wife thrice
At a late hour when the owl spots mice.
She's not hopeful like scrying seers;     
Folk bury their eyes, they smother their ears.

If only wailing could relate
Whatever she gleans from the throes of fate.
Is it yours or is it mine or
A far tragedy, on another shore?

I may have felt the Grim Wife's hand
In early shivers from the autumn land.
Distant clouds were gravid with rain 
When old rites took two, both man and son slain.

Fostered by a lingering dread, 
It's the wool local storytellers spread.
None dear lost at an ancient well?  
Just a faded woe, no legend to quell.

I may have breathed the Grim Wife's prayer
In the scented speech of the eldritch air.
Wafting to where the moonlight played
On dark lake ripples, as a red dog bayed.
Reply
C C Offline
Totally rewrote this one. The only thing it has in common with the original (posted three years ago, the one below?) is the title slash refrain.
- - - - - -

Where the hell is Davidson?

Mama looked deeper in the cellar.
Daddy came back from the field.
There just wasn't much we could tell her
Of what a wider search might yield.
We all know he's her favorite one:
Where the hell is Davidson?

He mingled with the maverick crowd,
The poor, the maimed, the outlaws.
Shaming good folk that were only proud,
Reminding them of their flaws. 
When a hood rides in and waves his gun,
Where the hell is Davidson?

Time scrapes away at the flaking paint,
Some day a ceiling will drop.
Trumpet booms grow increasingly faint, 
Our flock meets on the hilltop.
When your chances correlate to none,
Where the hell is Davidson? 

Counting days since the dreaded stars fell;
Along roads, a thick stench reigns.
Waiting for news in a trashed hotel,
Watching rats chew old remains.
Sick of signs, the final stage is done, 
Where the hell is Davidson?

Church keepers climb down from the steeple,
Bewildered by what they've missed.
A thief has stolen seven people,
Those accepted on a list.
We're left here cause of his roguish fun:
Damn to hell that Davidson!
Reply
Zinjanthropos Offline
Figured this would fit in the Ukraine/Russia thread but nah. Political commentary not my thing. Neither is Poots. I meant it as a song with first verse a refrain but whatever. Just jotted it down on iPad when I woke up. I’m still in bed so here goes…..

Drunk on Power

No more boozing
No more snoozing
No more schmoozing
Blood is oozing

It’s so confusing
When you’re losing
Because of choosing
What you’re using

You’re abusing
They’re accusing
You're defusing
They're refusing

It’s not amusing
This overusing
Of your misusing
There’s no excusing
Reply
Zinjanthropos Offline
Weird AL type stuff.. (All You Need is Love)

War, war, war
War, war, war
War, war, war
There’s no one you can fight that can’t be fought
There’s no one you can shoot that can’t be shot
No one you can kill, but you can learn how to fill a grave
It's easy
No one you can maim that can’t be maimed
No land you can claim that can’t be claimed
Nothin’ you can bomb, and become Viet Nam in time
It's easy
All you need is war
All you need is war
All you need is war, gore
War is all you need
All you need is war
All you need is war
All you need is war, gore
War is all you need
There's nothin' you can bleed that can’t be bled
There’s no soldier blown to bits that isn’t dead
There's nowhere you can hide if you haven’t already died
It's easy
All you need is war
All you need is war
All you need is war, gore
War is all you need
All you need is war (all together now)
All you need is war (everybody)
All you need is war, gore
War is all you need

…..and so on
Reply
Magical Realist Offline
"Pale amber sunlight falls across
The reddening October trees,
That hardly sway before a breeze
As soft as summer: summer's loss
Seems little, dear! on days like these.

Let misty autumn be our part!
The twilight of the year is sweet:
Where shadow and the darkness meet
Our love, a twilight of the heart
Eludes a little time's deceit.

Are we not better and at home
In dreamful Autumn, we who deem
No harvest joy is worth a dream?
A little while and night shall come,
A little while, then, let us dream.

Beyond the pearled horizons lie
Winter and night: awaiting these
We garner this poor hour of ease,
Until love turn from us and die
Beneath the drear November trees."

― Ernest Dowson, The Poems and Prose of Ernest Dowson


[Image: pbnx9WU.jpg]
[Image: pbnx9WU.jpg]

Reply
C C Offline
Happy(?) Halloween. Succinct rehash of an earlier theme.
- - - - - - -

DID Theater

The stranger who looks like me 
Left her note on a backstage settee: 
"Thank you for the house space,   
I touched up the wifey face."
Wrote the boarder to the landlady.

The woman who slurs strangely,
Must be sipping at a twin's party.
She's a nettlesome guest,
But always elegant dressed, 
On the nights when I'm an absentee. 

The stranger who read the screed
Seemed consumed by a very sharp need. 
Aced the bits of that scene,
Then she bleached it all so clean.
No wonder they chose another lead.
Reply
C C Offline
"Skadi" --> anglicized spelling of Skaði.
- - - - - - - -

Decamp Blues

When Skadi stalks, her gaze is blank.
The other godlings speak a tad too frank.
Look up there, see those swinging heads?
Everybody here is missing their meds.

A clear dome view, rowdy with clouds. 
The season is arching its wicked brows.
Grab your doubts, yes, be led astray, 
And you might live to count to New Year's Day.

Winter sinks down, a snow builds up.
Don't drink the hibernation in that cup.
Scale their wall, make your getaway,
And you might live to count to New Year's Day.

Lily-white waste, it stretches far.
Reaching the end erases who you are.
Risk the cold, go where winds allay,
And you might live to count to New Year's Day.
Reply
C C Offline
Alternative version (revised for animated gif).

Decamp Blues #2

When Skadi tracks, her prey is doomed.
The other godlings are vainly costumed.
What's with bows, skis, and Ullr's sleds?
Everybody here is missing their meds.

A fortress view, rowdy with clouds.
The season is arching its wicked brows.
Roll your doubts, maybe scorn will pay, 
And you might live to count to New Year's Day.

Winter sinks down, the snow builds up.
Don't drink the slumber in old Odin's cup.
Rappel cliffs, make your getaway,
And you might live to count to New Year's Day.

An icy waste, it stretches far.
Reaching the end erases who you are.
Take their gold, go where palm fronds sway,
And you might live to count to New Year's Day.
Reply
Zinjanthropos Offline
Found something I wrote while archiving on another forum. It's about Hawaii. Why? I don't know.

Sultry siren of the Pacific
Voluptuous vixen
Tantalizing and seductive
Ply your willful subterfuge

Fiery scarlet tresses
Betray the subtle furtive glance
Tormenting and beguiling
Ever yearning and desirous

Take heed young varlet
Lest you be so venturesome
Beware the vulcan archipelago
She awaits ever graceful and elegant
Reply
Leigha Offline
Haiku (by me)

Red, peaceful sunset
A small mysterious beach
quiets for the night
Reply




Users browsing this thread: 1 Guest(s)