Thread: wise up

for what is this eternal self?
to dust to lust and frost your claim
this feeling of uncertainty
that has its waist down to its knees.

for what is this amount of doubt?
in shadow rows come out to shrowd
internal shrieks filled up with weaks
remove it fast and lest you deemed!


for what is this default you crave?
have you no less to speak of more?
driven remarks are worthy less
when sounding rust with forceful cust?


for what is this amount of rogues?
it rages combersome and brags
driven to climb and yet it's bound
to come back down in such a rush!!


for what is this illusion thrills?
you breath it in, without a doubt
and yet your air is so compressed
it feels so clammed it needs a rest.


for what is this oppressive feel?
that draws you eyes near to your face
but yet the look that grabs your mouth
is just as tricky as your stout.

indeed there is that wise we must
a simple gesture to sake first,
is that of'' walk before you run'',
unless of course you try and false
the speed of light against your thrust,
then I would suggest a faithful leap,
is that of ''think your plots aloof''
before you chuck your raffle words,
afidavie and everywhere,
with tons of bricks that's out of breath,
just in case they come down loose
catch you up and block up your views
and leave you but, a stuck behind.

I really enjoy your poems. Let's go on another trip.

I'm standing on my knees, occasionally falling back onto my ankles to rest, and watching the tundra of ash and snow around me as the winds howl and the sun is nearest to the western horizon. As the sun nears the horizon, shadows play in front of me, cast by the mountains afar. The shadows begin to move and shiver, figures rising from them to circle around me, all black and with orange, yellow and red eyes. The sun begins to set, casting a pink haze across the sky which quickly turns to orange and red, then blackens. The figures begin to wail and scream around me, like demons hungry for my soul, yet they do not move any closer than the circle around me. The shrieks glide into metal scraping metal, louder and louder. Some of the shadowed demons rise with wings, which quickly falter and come crashing down. I breathe in, cold and clammy air breaching my lungs, to breathe a cloud through my nose. A weight on me, I glare about with half-lidded eyes. Eternal black swallows the land, save for the glittering eyes of amber, orange and red. I stand, taking effort to do so, and then begin to walk, step by step, out of the circle. My feelings emanating and exploding from my head, out, such sorrow and mourful glee, pain and joy. The joy in truth having no warmth to it, a twisted mind. A powerful explosion enough to bring the attention of all around me.

The demonic screams cease. All eyes on me as I walk through and past the crowd of eyes, until I am away. The black mountains before me, a vague tint of red barely across the peaked ridge. I set out.

wow Niklas you are a critic of another genre..a reader turn author at the flick of an eye.
I enjoyed reading your gripping interpretation so much fun you bring to a poetry..I love your style.
what a breathtaking imagery!!
reading your trip has certainly left me almost dizzy but with a lot to think about.
Thank you.

Thank you for your comments, and thank you moreso for your inspiring poem. Your poems are very interesting and nice, to me. Keep up the good work! Especially if you wish to go on more trips ;D

Wow Naican... Your work is so deep.

Originally Posted by MaggieMoo

Wow Naican... Your work is so deep.

hey thank you MaggieMoo...glad you liked it.

Hi Nacian;

I believe you see the duality of the righteous and indulgent. I think it would be very hard to hide anything from you. How have you become so wise?

fp

Originally Posted by feralpen

Hi Nacian;

I believe you see the duality of the righteous and indulgent. I think it would be very hard to hide anything from you. How have you become so wise?

fp

hehe...feralpen...no where to hide I see...lol...wisdom is presence and so it is easy to capture when we pause.