Andalus
Ashigaru
posted 09-06-09 12:05 PM
EDT (US)
1 / 222
Cursed
Your face is a curse to me.
It draws me in and binds me to you,
You tempt me ever closer, and I am trapped,
I am held in your snare.
Your face is a curse.
Your face is a curse to me.
An enchantment cast upon my mind.
My senses lost as I marvel in your thrall.
And I am helpless to avail it.
Your face is a curse.
Your face is a curse to me.
For my thoughts dwell on nothing else.
The sole heart of my cares and greatest desires,
Your face everywhere like some haunting dream.
Your face is a curse.
Your face is a curse to me.
For would that I had all of eternity to live,
I would be pained to have so little time in your light,
Your beauty deserving of more than infinity.
Your face is a curse.
And yet...
If your beauty is a blight, I would have no cure.
If your love is a wound, I would love that sore,
If your voice is my peril, I would face the worst,
And if your face is a curse to me, then let me be cursed.
For I would suffer this torment, and I would face any test.
For if your beauty is my curse, then there are none who are blessed.
Andalus
Ashigaru
posted 09-15-09 07:47 AM
EDT (US)
17 / 222
Echoes
The sound of an echo, in the caverns of my heart;
The deep throbbing pulse, as the beats drift apart;
The depths of my sorrow; the lost light of my soul;
The emptiness so hollow, and emotions untold.
The skeletal husk, where all that remains,
Is the missing face of my love.
And your name.
Andalus
Ashigaru
posted 09-20-09 08:46 AM
EDT (US)
22 / 222
Dream of Beauty
A woven field of red and green,
Bright flowers beneath a sapphire sky.
A cloven path beside a gentle stream,
And on the breeze, a whispered sigh.
A mountain draped with pristine snow,
A silent stillness in the air,
Basking in the alpine glow,
A frozen world without a care.
A rushing ocean in full foam,
Crashing on the rocky shore,
Beneath the surface, monsters roam,
While above the waters, seabirds soar.
An arid desert of shifting sands,
The eternal sun burning from on high.
A calm still there, in the baking lands,
An untamed beauty in that place, so dry.
A woodland dell, in spring's first bloom,
The song of birds drifting through the trees.
Filled with the stem of nature's boon,
A harmony of life, and peace.
From east to west, and north to south,
Dawn chorus to the bright stars' dance
From mountain spring to river's mouth
The world declares its countenance.
The whole of nature on display,
Its glory open to behold.
The wonders of the world through night and day,
A vision of beauty, ages old.
Yet as I stand, on mountains high,
In forest glades, and scenes of bliss,
I know that beneath the crystal sky,
Dwells allure far lovelier than this.
And so I lie beneath a sky of blue,
In woven fields of red and green,
I close my eyes and think of you,
The perfect face of beauty's dream.
Andalus
Ashigaru
posted 10-02-09 05:08 PM
EDT (US)
26 / 222
This poem is quite different to my others. It was written for a competition (where the theme was 'doubt') and is really more of a piece to be performed, rather than read on a page. But I think it still works quite well written down.
Empty
I have to go to the shops.
I ran out of milk.
No milk today.
Will the shops have milk?
Will the doors be closed?
What time is it now? I never know.
Are you sure the clock's right? It could be wrong. It could be slow.
If I go now.
If I go.
What if I get half way down the street,
And they close the shop?
There will be no milk.
It's cold outside; it'll soon be dark. I could take the car. Or yours.
It's not far.
I suppose.
It seems a waste.
It's only a cup of tea, after all.
I think I'll go now.
Have you seen my gloves? The black ones.
Did I leave them on the stair?
I'm sure I did.
Just there.
Just ten minutes ago.
I came in.
And now they're lost.
I always lose them. Always.
Should I go without?
It won't be long.
Just down to the shops.
For your milk.
I'm sorry.
I should have remembered. And now I'm late. Again. I'm always late.
I always forget.
Sorry.
My gloves. There. Just out of sight.
Do you want to come? To hold my hand.
An evening walk. Hold my hand tonight.
Should I get some bread too?
While we are there.
You always used to tell me what to do.
How to do it.
Now I don’t know.
I feel lost.
Lost without a guiding hand.
Lost to the path I walked, hand in hand with you. All is gone.
Only this doubt and the tears, the memories of the past, the touch of a dream, the loving words of you,
My mother.
I don’t want to drink black tea any more.
Andalus
Ashigaru
posted 10-19-09 07:53 PM
EDT (US)
33 / 222
Footprints
I looked behind, to see you, son,
As we walked along the shore,
And as you followed along the path I walked,
I smiled at what I saw.
For you stepped along, with your tiny feet,
And left your steps behind,
Walking in my footprints,
As our tracks were both combined.
I laughed at that, for as I looked,
I saw another boy in another time,
Who followed his father's footprints,
As you now followed mine.
And as I remembered and smiled there, son,
You gazed up with a frown,
Wanting to know what was the joke,
And why I'd turned around.
Don't worry, son, I told you then,
As we stood there by the bay.
When you are grown with your own child,
You'll know why I smile, one day.
As you walk together by the sea,
Maybe then you'll understand,
Why I smile to see you follow
My footprints in the sand.
I am old now, son, and close to death,
But you have grown bold and strong.
And though my voice will be heard no more,
You will carry on my song.
Now go down to the beach, my son,
And see there what you find.
Will you see where I followed my father's steps?
Or where you followed in mine?
They are gone now, son, but listen well,
And perhaps you'll understand,
That as long as we live to pass on our love,
There'll be footprints in the sand.
Terikel Grayhair
Imperator
(id: Terikel706)
posted 10-25-09 06:01 AM
EDT (US)
36 / 222
I like your stuff, Ankalus. Nice imagery, flowing thoughts and emotions.. Pretty good.
Andalus
Ashigaru
posted 11-05-09 06:23 PM
EDT (US)
38 / 222
Waves
Tonight was a good night.
I sat by the sea, gazing at the ripples in its cold, dark waters,
While the orange heat of the fires warmed my back,
A perfect harmony of opposites.
I sat by the sea, with the waves sweeping in at my feet,
As my thoughts rolled back and forth with the tide.
I sat by the sea, and dreamt.
I dreamt of the stars above,
Still shining amidst a sky lit with celebration.
I dreamt of forgotten memories,
Countless, like the grains of sand that flowed between my fingertips,
Like water.
A sea breeze brushed against my chilled face,
And I dreamt of all the lives that brush against mine,
From every dawn until every dusk.
And as the circle of the moon watched from the midnight sky,
I sat by the sea, and dreamt.
For tonight was a good night.
I can only dream of tomorrow.
Andalus
Ashigaru
posted 11-06-09 11:26 PM
EDT (US)
40 / 222
I was in a vague, happy mood, as I wrote it walking home from the beach, that is why. Incidentally, tomorrow (i.e yesterday now) was shit.
Andalus
Ashigaru
posted 11-18-09 08:18 AM
EDT (US)
41 / 222
Praises to Stalin
I wrap myself tightly in this white blanket,
I pray for sleep.
Lost on the new path to an old death,
Dying with every moment,
Every breath.
Too long have I been smothered in the scarlet banner,
Praying for release.
Lost in the motherland so free,
With the strength of brotherhood,
Crushing me.
I stare at the sun's rays above, searching for the gods,
I pray for an end.
Lost, the least among equals,
An even division of struggles,
Unbreakable.
I hear the orchestra playing, a hymn to the divine,
Praying to Stalin.
Lost, tired of the music,
Deafened by the joy,
Of freedom.
I wrap myself in this white blanket of snow,
And pray for sleep.
Lost among the scarlet fences around me,
Keeping me here, singing,
Praises to Stalin.
Andalus
Ashigaru
posted 02-27-10 07:06 AM
EDT (US)
43 / 222
Friendship for One
No man mourned his passing,
No woman cried out his name,
No child wept upon his breast,
No bard sung of his fame.
None came to take his body,
That they might lay it in a grave.
No angel came to take his soul,
No god declared him saved.
Yet did the dead man care for that?
Did he know he was not grieved?
For to live alone is to live assured,
That you leave no friend bereaved.
And since no other would mourn for him,
Perhaps a single tear was born,
Not remorse for his loneliness,
But, himself his only friend,
For his friend's death he mourned.
Andalus
Ashigaru
posted 03-09-10 04:10 AM
EDT (US)
45 / 222
A Bad Case of Retention
A stirring in the rafters of a memory long gone,
An infestation long forgotten, now returned.
The hatching of a scratching patter, needling at the mind,
Reminder of the way the winds have turned.
And ne'er before was it so loud, not even at the first,
In silence it has grown as it was spurned.
A neglected part of you, that you thought was weeded out
And yet now that you've moved on begins to burn.
A nettlesome regret as you seek to find your peace,
The overdue reprise you know you earned.
"I won't be left behind!" howls the memory maligned,
Reminder of a lesson never learned.