Monday, December 22, 2008
Thoughts.
"Hide Out"
On top of a golden brown hill, sits a quaint little old house.
The sun cascades through the massive hole in the roof,
the windows missing panes, the doorways without doors,
the holes in the walls that appear to be doors and windows,
and permeates into every dark corner of that hidden place.
Inside white paint peels off, from age, into
snowflakes that slowly fall to the ground exposing
underneath the scars and wear from years of torrential
rains, suffocating heat waves, and unforgiving winds,
and inside a small boy plays, running through
falling snow flakes that flicker in the rays of light,
forgetting the cruel world of jokes,
mean names, and pain until all there is
is the joy of that hidden place.
Opinion
This is a piece I did for my advanced creative writing poetry course. I think it is my strongest modern piece as of yet. It is a ekphrastic poem which is a poem derived from a piece of art. I really like the images it portrays and the emotions behind it. I hope it moves you too.
Recommended Listening
Album: "Wish You Were Here" By: Pink Floyd
Song: "Wish You Were Here"
"Hide Out"
On top of a golden brown hill, sits a quaint little old house.
The sun cascades through the massive hole in the roof,
the windows missing panes, the doorways without doors,
the holes in the walls that appear to be doors and windows,
and permeates into every dark corner of that hidden place.
Inside white paint peels off, from age, into
snowflakes that slowly fall to the ground exposing
underneath the scars and wear from years of torrential
rains, suffocating heat waves, and unforgiving winds,
and inside a small boy plays, running through
falling snow flakes that flicker in the rays of light,
forgetting the cruel world of jokes,
mean names, and pain until all there is
is the joy of that hidden place.
Opinion
This is a piece I did for my advanced creative writing poetry course. I think it is my strongest modern piece as of yet. It is a ekphrastic poem which is a poem derived from a piece of art. I really like the images it portrays and the emotions behind it. I hope it moves you too.
Recommended Listening
Album: "Wish You Were Here" By: Pink Floyd
Song: "Wish You Were Here"
Friday, October 24, 2008
Thoughts.
"Fly Fishing"
The fly moves above the cool crystal
clear water that rushes past my legs,
a prey hidden underneath taunting.
With another gentle flick the fly
moves before coming to rest on top
of the water. The current slowly
pulling it under the shade of draping
Manzanita Branches. The trees rustle
in the cool mountain breeze.
With a flash of rainbow, the fly is pulled
under the depths into an ice covered grave;
the jaws of the prey devouring it
to the squeal of the reel.
The sky becomes the land as
I hold the rainbow in my hand;
the rainbow is too brilliant to capture,
and in a splash, the land becomes the sky again.
Still my waning faith’s tested,
with yet another gentle flick,
the fly moves once again.
Opinion
This is a piece I did for my advanced creative writing poetry course. I overall really enjoyed it and got some good feedback. This is the updated version of the poem. I hope you enjoy it very much. It is from a very personal experience for me.
Recommended Listening
Album: "It's a Wonderful Life" By: Sparklehorse
Song: "Sea of Teeth"
"Fly Fishing"
The fly moves above the cool crystal
clear water that rushes past my legs,
a prey hidden underneath taunting.
With another gentle flick the fly
moves before coming to rest on top
of the water. The current slowly
pulling it under the shade of draping
Manzanita Branches. The trees rustle
in the cool mountain breeze.
With a flash of rainbow, the fly is pulled
under the depths into an ice covered grave;
the jaws of the prey devouring it
to the squeal of the reel.
The sky becomes the land as
I hold the rainbow in my hand;
the rainbow is too brilliant to capture,
and in a splash, the land becomes the sky again.
Still my waning faith’s tested,
with yet another gentle flick,
the fly moves once again.
Opinion
This is a piece I did for my advanced creative writing poetry course. I overall really enjoyed it and got some good feedback. This is the updated version of the poem. I hope you enjoy it very much. It is from a very personal experience for me.
Recommended Listening
Album: "It's a Wonderful Life" By: Sparklehorse
Song: "Sea of Teeth"
Tuesday, January 02, 2007
Thoughts
"Lay to Rest."
A soul tired of his plight,
resting behind closed eyes,
as the weary days give way,
to endless starlit skies.
Clinging to the dreary night,
with teeming dreams to find.
Hidden place un-reached by time,
a world he left behind.
A mist covered night will die,
with a brand new day received.
As the darkness creeps away,
A lost moon gives its leave.
He's ripped from his hidden place,
greeting moonlight dew,
with yet another day to face,
but ending still to soon.
Opinion
I know this is an old poem I already posted, but for my poetry class last semester I took it and redid the structure to change it into a classical ballad. I thought the ballad was very fitting for this poem giving it a much more rhythmic sound and structured rhyming form. I'm hoping to get a new poem done soon but am not quit sure how soon. I've had an idea float ashore from my sea of thoughts about a week or two ago and would like to turn it into a poem. Will see what I can get done. I'm busy with writing a story for a game and also work plus school starts in 7 more days. I'll try to keep some updates coming though.
"Lay to Rest."
A soul tired of his plight,
resting behind closed eyes,
as the weary days give way,
to endless starlit skies.
Clinging to the dreary night,
with teeming dreams to find.
Hidden place un-reached by time,
a world he left behind.
A mist covered night will die,
with a brand new day received.
As the darkness creeps away,
A lost moon gives its leave.
He's ripped from his hidden place,
greeting moonlight dew,
with yet another day to face,
but ending still to soon.
Opinion
I know this is an old poem I already posted, but for my poetry class last semester I took it and redid the structure to change it into a classical ballad. I thought the ballad was very fitting for this poem giving it a much more rhythmic sound and structured rhyming form. I'm hoping to get a new poem done soon but am not quit sure how soon. I've had an idea float ashore from my sea of thoughts about a week or two ago and would like to turn it into a poem. Will see what I can get done. I'm busy with writing a story for a game and also work plus school starts in 7 more days. I'll try to keep some updates coming though.
Tuesday, December 05, 2006
Thoughts
"Ode to the Forgotten"
Our eyes peering through the passing days
into dreams of a better place and time,
but where will the forgotten go
when we have blamelessly forgot.
The world slipping by in our naivety;
the naive world slipping by us.
Piece by piece giving its leave
without a single tear or trembling goodbye.
Not a comforting word to fill the void
in the midst of the bitter turmoil of life.
Pridefully holding on in our desperate solitude,
trying to find fragments that have long been lost
in the noise and clutter of a responsible lie.
Wondering in the ruins of a beautiful mind,
Hopefully one day to be remembered,
the forgot that has forgotten the world,
the forgotten world that has forgot.
Opinion
Here is my last poem for my poetry class, I'm going to keep working on new stuff though. This is an Ode as the title states. I wrestled with this one for a little bit and am still not completely satisfied with the outcome but I don't think I can revise it any better from this point.
"Ode to the Forgotten"
Our eyes peering through the passing days
into dreams of a better place and time,
but where will the forgotten go
when we have blamelessly forgot.
The world slipping by in our naivety;
the naive world slipping by us.
Piece by piece giving its leave
without a single tear or trembling goodbye.
Not a comforting word to fill the void
in the midst of the bitter turmoil of life.
Pridefully holding on in our desperate solitude,
trying to find fragments that have long been lost
in the noise and clutter of a responsible lie.
Wondering in the ruins of a beautiful mind,
Hopefully one day to be remembered,
the forgot that has forgotten the world,
the forgotten world that has forgot.
Opinion
Here is my last poem for my poetry class, I'm going to keep working on new stuff though. This is an Ode as the title states. I wrestled with this one for a little bit and am still not completely satisfied with the outcome but I don't think I can revise it any better from this point.
Thoughts
"Unnamed"
From the ocean of bodies, Rose looks
On,
rage
deep
in
her
eyes,
still rotting
in her mind the
blood covered
memories of
her family
gone.
The screams that
bled all into one until
silenced with one final
shot, still echoed in her
head. The pull of a lever
silencing the din of the
roaring crowd; then in
unison, a celebration of
death. Blearing through
the deafening crowd, the
screams of her
family gone;
the death not
bringing quiet
so deserved.
Fluttering in
on deaths
exit, a stream
of tears for
endless
beauty
hung
Mike Marla John Timmy Tom Dennies Matt Emily Sean Tarik Stan Michele Christine Kyle Nicky Bob Jim Angel Tim Allen Stevey Julia Monique Cory Travis bodies bodies bodies bodies bodies bodies bodies bodies bodies bodies bodies bodies bodies bodies bodies bodies bodies bodies bodies bodies bodies bodies bodies bodies bodies bodies bodies bodies bodies bodies bodies bodies bodies bodies bodies Jane bodies bodies bodies bodies bodies bodies bodies bodies bodies bodies bodies bodies bodies bodies bodies bodies bodies bodies bodies bodies bodies bodies bodies bodies bodies bodies bodies bodies bodies bodies bodies bodies bodies bodies bodies bodies bodies bodies bodies bodies bodies bodies bodies bodies bodies bodies bodies bodies bodies bodies bodies bodies bodies bodies bodies bodies bodies bodies bodies bodies bodies bodies bodies bodies bodies bodies bodies bodies bodies bodies bodies bodies bodies bodies bodies bodies bodies bodies bodies bodies bodies bodies bodies bodies bodies bodies bodies bodies bodies bodies bodies bodies bodies bodies bodies bodies bodies bodies bodies bodies bodies bodies bodies bodies bodies bodies bodies bodies
Opinion
This is a shaped poem. As you can tell, it has to resemble some shape that correlates with the poem. I'm going to just let you know this took about 20 minutes of formatting it to get it to look just how I had it in a word document. I still don't think it'll scale properly with differently resolutions. I know how to fix that but currently don't have the time. I might go back some time in next few days though and fix it so no matter what the resolution it'll scale properly. I hope you enjoy it. By the way, yes it's a person hanging. Also I just noticed this whole time I've been copying and pasting my formatting, I totally passed up my miss spelling of opinion. I'm not going to go back and fix every one probably, but I thought I'd just say sorry.
"Unnamed"
From the ocean of bodies, Rose looks
On,
rage
deep
in
her
eyes,
still rotting
in her mind the
blood covered
memories of
her family
gone.
The screams that
bled all into one until
silenced with one final
shot, still echoed in her
head. The pull of a lever
silencing the din of the
roaring crowd; then in
unison, a celebration of
death. Blearing through
the deafening crowd, the
screams of her
family gone;
the death not
bringing quiet
so deserved.
Fluttering in
on deaths
exit, a stream
of tears for
endless
beauty
hung
Mike Marla John Timmy Tom Dennies Matt Emily Sean Tarik Stan Michele Christine Kyle Nicky Bob Jim Angel Tim Allen Stevey Julia Monique Cory Travis bodies bodies bodies bodies bodies bodies bodies bodies bodies bodies bodies bodies bodies bodies bodies bodies bodies bodies bodies bodies bodies bodies bodies bodies bodies bodies bodies bodies bodies bodies bodies bodies bodies bodies bodies Jane bodies bodies bodies bodies bodies bodies bodies bodies bodies bodies bodies bodies bodies bodies bodies bodies bodies bodies bodies bodies bodies bodies bodies bodies bodies bodies bodies bodies bodies bodies bodies bodies bodies bodies bodies bodies bodies bodies bodies bodies bodies bodies bodies bodies bodies bodies bodies bodies bodies bodies bodies bodies bodies bodies bodies bodies bodies bodies bodies bodies bodies bodies bodies bodies bodies bodies bodies bodies bodies bodies bodies bodies bodies bodies bodies bodies bodies bodies bodies bodies bodies bodies bodies bodies bodies bodies bodies bodies bodies bodies bodies bodies bodies bodies bodies bodies bodies bodies bodies bodies bodies bodies bodies bodies bodies bodies bodies bodies
Opinion
This is a shaped poem. As you can tell, it has to resemble some shape that correlates with the poem. I'm going to just let you know this took about 20 minutes of formatting it to get it to look just how I had it in a word document. I still don't think it'll scale properly with differently resolutions. I know how to fix that but currently don't have the time. I might go back some time in next few days though and fix it so no matter what the resolution it'll scale properly. I hope you enjoy it. By the way, yes it's a person hanging. Also I just noticed this whole time I've been copying and pasting my formatting, I totally passed up my miss spelling of opinion. I'm not going to go back and fix every one probably, but I thought I'd just say sorry.
Thoughts
"Momento Mori"
In the fleeting
moments of
mortality
A glimpse into
the shadows
of reality.
Hiding;
a monument
to memento mori
With endless
Patience,
approaching
with every
day that
slowly
drifts
by
Until here comes your whole life
But
Every
Second you
breath is in
defiance –
So hold on to those
contradictory moments,
letting every second be frozen
Opionin
This is a Williams style poem. It centers around the concept of an old Roman phrase "momento mori" which means remember you're only mortal. I use tension in a very significant and symbolic way through this poem.
"Momento Mori"
In the fleeting
moments of
mortality
A glimpse into
the shadows
of reality.
Hiding;
a monument
to memento mori
With endless
Patience,
approaching
with every
day that
slowly
drifts
by
Until here comes your whole life
But
Every
Second you
breath is in
defiance –
So hold on to those
contradictory moments,
letting every second be frozen
Opionin
This is a Williams style poem. It centers around the concept of an old Roman phrase "momento mori" which means remember you're only mortal. I use tension in a very significant and symbolic way through this poem.
Sunday, October 22, 2006
Thoughts
"Falling"
Drifting on a tattered and worn out dream,
A heart slips into the sea of faces.
With an accepting smile and a stream
Of tears, he falls through the sky with his grace
The endless eyes watching from the blur of life,
Slipping through clouds and rays of light, splash-
ing into the concrete stream, eyes open wide.
Slowly floating down as the currents pass,
Resting in the deep depths, a rusted heart.
Souls come and gone, forgot what beauty they
Saw. He admires, never to depart.
The pain of watching souls pass everyday
Suffocates, but he thinks and finds relief,
“What is beauty if never truly seen?”
Opionin
Hope you guys like this one.
"Falling"
Drifting on a tattered and worn out dream,
A heart slips into the sea of faces.
With an accepting smile and a stream
Of tears, he falls through the sky with his grace
The endless eyes watching from the blur of life,
Slipping through clouds and rays of light, splash-
ing into the concrete stream, eyes open wide.
Slowly floating down as the currents pass,
Resting in the deep depths, a rusted heart.
Souls come and gone, forgot what beauty they
Saw. He admires, never to depart.
The pain of watching souls pass everyday
Suffocates, but he thinks and finds relief,
“What is beauty if never truly seen?”
Opionin
Hope you guys like this one.
Saturday, October 21, 2006
Thoughts
"Dawn"
Clawing for more from the rage of deceit
A lost generation disfranchised
by corporatism and empty lies.
Fragments of lives shattered in hollow streets
of suburbia America scream-
ing from these endless artificial ties,
“Is there something truly more to our lives,
Are we all just actors in this sad scene?”
With the first clinched fist thrown, so it began,
Bodies flooding on to the sidewalk shores
Pick axes and hammers waving in hand.
The voices echoing through time, “We aren’t our
Pants or shirts. We aren’t Starbucks, Coke, or Coors.
We’re more than what society imparts.”
Opionin
This is an italian sonnet I did. I really enjoyed putting this one together, and I hope you understand what I'm trying to convey.
"Dawn"
Clawing for more from the rage of deceit
A lost generation disfranchised
by corporatism and empty lies.
Fragments of lives shattered in hollow streets
of suburbia America scream-
ing from these endless artificial ties,
“Is there something truly more to our lives,
Are we all just actors in this sad scene?”
With the first clinched fist thrown, so it began,
Bodies flooding on to the sidewalk shores
Pick axes and hammers waving in hand.
The voices echoing through time, “We aren’t our
Pants or shirts. We aren’t Starbucks, Coke, or Coors.
We’re more than what society imparts.”
Opionin
This is an italian sonnet I did. I really enjoyed putting this one together, and I hope you understand what I'm trying to convey.
Saturday, September 30, 2006
Thoughts
"The Game"
Two kings on each side of a checkered
battlefield, war waging in front of them,
kneeling to the sky they call differently.
And on hallow ground bloody corpses lay,
a testament to gods will slippery
tongues will tell. What is one death if two souls
are saved. It's two more souls to save four more;
for the pawns don't know it's a number game.
Men have cried and bled for king, land, and wealth
but every drop spilt in his true glory
will be remembered with your final breath.
And with the last expression on your face
knights, bishop, queen, and king praise the same god
that watched your eyes go so pale. For a king's and
bishop's blood is to great for "god's true will".
Opionin
This is a blank verse poem I wrote for my poetry course. It has no standard rhyming scheme, it just has to be in pentamic meter. Most classical plays and shakespares plays where writtin in this form such as his infamous "To Be or Not to Be" speech. I thought it came out very well and portrayed my point.
Recommended Viewing
Movie: "Fight Club" *Pay close attention through out this one kids*
"The Game"
Two kings on each side of a checkered
battlefield, war waging in front of them,
kneeling to the sky they call differently.
And on hallow ground bloody corpses lay,
a testament to gods will slippery
tongues will tell. What is one death if two souls
are saved. It's two more souls to save four more;
for the pawns don't know it's a number game.
Men have cried and bled for king, land, and wealth
but every drop spilt in his true glory
will be remembered with your final breath.
And with the last expression on your face
knights, bishop, queen, and king praise the same god
that watched your eyes go so pale. For a king's and
bishop's blood is to great for "god's true will".
Opionin
This is a blank verse poem I wrote for my poetry course. It has no standard rhyming scheme, it just has to be in pentamic meter. Most classical plays and shakespares plays where writtin in this form such as his infamous "To Be or Not to Be" speech. I thought it came out very well and portrayed my point.
Recommended Viewing
Movie: "Fight Club" *Pay close attention through out this one kids*
