The Watcher

A distant ray breaks through the mist,

A sweep of dust on empty air,

Embracing arms of black come forth,

To welcome the uninvited there.

The welcome mat is rife with rock,

Spotlight-lit, a navy black,

Untrodden crags beneath come forth,

From every wave, a jutting crack.

Yet above it all a soothing light,

From tiny star: colossal glare,

A prayer of the nighttime rite,

Or a searching, sifting stare.

The shadows enter one by one,

To open sea they bid farewell,

And one by one, like weary moths,

Are swallowed by the dancing swell.

A darkness both literal and tonal, both external and internal, from both the above and the below, searching, sifting, dancing...

Untaken Paths

The ever-watcher forever seeing:

Never watch if unbelieving,

Not every person, every being,

Endeavors after thoughts so fleeting.

The thought in mind, for mind in case,

If fought for mind, pursue the chase,

And never mind what later face,

Nor further find another race.

But then to leave unsatisfied,

Receive the win, discard the ride,

Yet some reprieve unjustified,

Indeed for those who only tried.

Why take if taken only bleed,

When taken take away the seed,

Which, untaken, grow and feed,

For where can path so taken lead?

A poem that references the moment just before...which when taken, no matter how fleeting, ends the chase unsatisfied. For why take if the taken only bleeds, when such effort could be redirected? Why indeed? Another mystery of the human psyche lies before us, in the form of untaken paths.

Terrestrial Slumber

Shifting seas beneath,
Waves on waves roll underfoot,
Dormant power sleeps,
Under a blanket of rays,
Dancing shapes aglow,
Breathing light into the wind,
Uncertain colors,
Flickering: a phantom surf,
In silent vigil,
A mirror shattered and drowned,
A slain canopy.

Well that turned dark very quickly...I suppose it wasn't sleep after all... Anyway, I hope it was thought-provoking; it was inspired by the rolling, dappled shadows of a tree outside my window.

A note: this poem is formatted in a five-ku, a new type of poem I invented that expands the 5-7-5 syllable system of the haiku into an 11-line poem. As its name suggests, a five-ku has five 7-syllable lines, the others containing only 5 syllables.

Thunder thoughts

Thunder thoughts of lightning legends,
The storm a clouded mindscape,
The rain an infinity of ideas,
The fog a lingering haze of partial ponders.
*****
As the ideas flow,
And the ponders blow,
And the thoughts roll lIke warring possibilities in combat,
The legends strike.
*****
They say the deepest roots evade the frost,
But can the brightest legends escape the haze?
Can the strongest thoughts penetrate the permeating rain?
*****
Such permeating rain
As could infiltrate the most fortified stronghold,
As would engulf the most gargantuan behemoth.
*****
A titan like that of myth,
A stature unparalleled,
From breadth to width.
*****
Shoulder to shoulder: the Great Wall,
A column stacked: a worldly pillar,
Three to a group: the endless stars,
As far as the eye can see.
*****
Thus lies the myopic wonder:
Cryptic unknowns rewritten with cryptic mirages,
A lightless world lit by worldless light.
Gray to gray, and black to black,
Without the need of need to lack.
*****
For riches fall their height in full,
However high the clouds can reach.
*****
Flash. Boom. And yet another.

Indeed; another "Wonder; wander" has come to be, under storming Manhattan skies, over flooded Manhattan roads. What will we wonder next? Where will we wander next? Hence, the thunder thoughts roll in.

(originally written 6/19/17)

Poem 2 Part 7

And growth to laud, if growth assert,
Fare best when from its germ divert,

Poem 2 Part 6

All for nought and nought for all,

A falling rise brings rising fall,

(It's back!! Also, I will soon be encountering many "falling rises" and "rising falls"...)

One

The cobalt of a drowning sun,
The scarlet of a rising hope,
From ink to cloth to bone to rope,
Incessant tides to chase the night,
Repainted strokes, a two-way flight,
The splintered coffin paves the way,
For yet another to join the fray,
The ashen seed evokes rebirth,
A cycled soul within the earth,
Another death, another dream,
Another flood, a grave, a ream.
Another whisper from the core,
Another cycle, just one more,
Yet amidst a hundred, what is one?

Just one more...poem? Also, I will be adding my comments and descriptions after the poem from now on, as it keeps the entire framework contiguous and natural. After all, who wants spoilers?

In addition, I will be on vacation for the next week or so; thus, I might not be able to meet my 3-poem weekly quota...or perhaps I will, as a result of excessive waiting time. Who knows? I suppose you'll just have to wait for the next...one.

The Diamonding

True to the theme of this poem, a 10-minute timer was put to use. Thus, it seems a bit crude and sharp, but then again so it is. Divine the metaphors! (oh, also I put it into iambic tetrameter in the last 30 seconds because that is what it seemed to implore)

Compressed against the earthly fists,
The terra-force a terror true,
Two twin tide wreakers: rhythm shared,
The strength of air from blue to blue.

The chanting eyes, the staring words,
A can-like mirror, "cannot" fears,
A doubting shard within bests swords,
And too uncertain certains seers.

From higher hues to younger reds,
The hands from straight to right to none,
And empty lines to empty sheets,
The sea alight, the boulder spun.

The Nowhere Walk

More poetry!

We walk,
Our shadows trailing long amidst a wake of dust.
We speak,
Our words a haze of lies within truth within lies.
We watch,
Our eyes that seek the rust upon the needle.
We ponder,
Our thoughts lingering in states that are neither and both.
We sleep,
Our dreams a soundscape of whispering voices.
We live,
Our time a sliver of gold on the current.
But then we find
The gold is hay, and the voices tell lies of the dust.

Melting

Guess the context. Reach for the tale. (originally begun 12/21/16)

The gift I could not give,
The life I could not live;
For fairest upon fairest day,
A silent gift wandering astray,
The words I could not say...

Brightest moonlit ray,
Unreaching inner fray,
Hopes and dreams slip away;
For a future of unmolded clay...
Cannot stay.

And neither could I.

Wonder; wander

Wonder; wander #1(der)

In which I dance amidst the unwritten white and see where it takes me. "***" indicates a new thought, often building upon the one before in some way. I will try to make one of these once in a while, though it remains experimental and thus flexible. Let us begin! (originally written 12/1/16)

Where shall I go? I wonder.
***
To the mountain of Erebor? To the city of emeralds? Where shall the road take me? I wander.
***
Eternal, a traveler, the twists and turns, forks asunder.
***
Rifts deep with hope, the open sky of dread.
Perhaps the empty mountain, or the wooded valley instead.
***
One second a prison, an unbreakable chill.
***
Invisible, a web of thick smoke.
Leaving uncertain dreams, unspoken nightmares.
A riveting allure, impassable walls close in.
It's only me and the white darkness.
***
Perhaps only me and myself.
***
Perhaps only me. Truly a lonely mountain.
For not truly does the city bear hope, only lies.
The answer always lies. Within.
***
Is it not true? Gaze from afar, let your eyes enter the labyrinth of darkness.
Truly, do mortal men lie of the after as they do the before?
***
For...
***
Can only the ichor-bred resist the saccharine?
Can only the weak fare well in perilous plight?
Indeed, such we call before us.
Farewell.

Important Blog Update

        Hello, everyone! Unfortunately, as you might have noticed, I put this blog on the back burner for much of the school year, instead working on other projects and extra-curricular events. Several times, I tried to continue the blog through posting something special, such as a piece of writing or an experimental poem.  However, I never got around to it, and as the school year comes to a close, I would like to release this announcement.

Drafts and more drafts!

        In order to further the development of this blog, I will now start to make daily and weekly releases. This will also help improve my poetry-writing skills, and perhaps I will even throw in some writing or similar work. As a concrete goal, my aim is to release three poems a week, unless I am working on a larger project. To kick-start this goal, I will be releasing some poems and other pieces I have written (or started to write) during the interim since the last post.
        All in all, it's time for the rebirth of Pleonasm in Poetry!