On the black and calm wave where the stars Sleep White Ophelia floats like a giant lilly, Floats very slowly, asleep in her long veils... ..You hear hunting calls far off in the woods" ~~Ophelia, -Arthur Rimbaud
The people of today, The people of tommorow, What are your joys and sorrows?; Same taste same bleakness in the blood, Same rotting brain in the cup! Where went the Sun, Where went the Death That your steps and echoes are now Roaming free?; Zombies ruling the fields Where once great battles and wicked deeds were made. The forger in the myth is dead And his pets are making Blood into sand And vicotry into silent Misery.
I write this so called poem off the top of my head: Loney, Sad, Sick Easy to be happy But hard to achive Like a flower, Happiness dies quick. Always happy, but never true. Suffering.... Pain..... death. Dead, with a smile on your face. ... what...? it's a poem!! right? :|
I have nothing to fear because noone is here, this mansion and these walls all around me like skin of a dead person on ice, and my words don't reach it outside just echo in the halls with bats and the screams from the days when the hope was alive and the wounds bled all night. All is chains, all is bricks and stones on the floor, all is forsaken for years: no memory of trees, no of natural light and the dreams I once had. The windows - all shut just my bookshelves and my light: a candle burning mad in red lights with black smoke talking with the shadows dancing on my lips. --- © 2004 by Avatar
The Pure White Snow I think I feel. I think I know. I think I miss the pure white snow that once fell softly on my skin. And reminded me what was in my heart that I had hid away from everyone. Until the day the pure white snow came falling down. It left no trace and made no sound. And yet it changed everything in me. The pure white snow, it set me free.
The knights will return, Oh yes, they'll come, The knights'll eat your little son! They'll make him into a slave With rust and chains, He'll become a soldier new! The witches shall burn; Oh yes, she'll burn, your beautiful wife will perish in God's name! You bones will shatter, your tombstone will mutter like an insane, old woman! The priests shall snigger, They will linger At the flaming ruins of your land! --- © 2004 by Avatar
chains chains chains chains chains chains chains chains You shall not stand your ground! chains chains You shall not become alive! chains chains You shall not become a sign! chains chains chains chains chains chains chains chains --- © 2004 by Avatar
Another one of my poems devoted to IRA --- A child is dead when a child is born, a war is declared in its blood - the cause of life and death. A war is declared in all the fronts and his countrymen and enemies grab and tear him apart. Choose the side!! Needles penetrate her eyes and dirty liquid flows inside - filth of the people and the centuries of past combined. Clean your gun!! Happy birthday!, the cake holds sixteen grenades, we are proud - your family, now go! Ready! shoot! run! The police and the queen respond, load their guns, roadblocks appear, smoke clears and a new generation is born from the death of fellow men. You can not help them anymore.. Hate spawns the proud, it shines in gold; hate kills the child, it makes you old. Cá bhfuil tú ag dul, a shaighdiúr? * Patch your wounds in secrecy and stand up tall and strong above the bombs, their demands! Ná héist leo! ** --- © 2004 by Avatar * Where are you heading, soldier? (Irish Gaelic) ** Don't listen to them! (Irish Gaelic) p.s. Many thanks to the folks at the http://www.irishgaelictranslator.com forum who were so kind and translated those two sentences for me!
An old musing of mine, about the planet Jupiter. A DEEP SKY The mightiest of planets known Has no ground, no sea, no land; No stony peaks, no vales between, No waters, nor a sandy strand. Carmine, cream and jasper clouds With profuse shades beside; To the south, most brazen Spins the worlds-wide crimson eye. Hyper-potent tempests rule: Lightnings that could light a nation; Winds with force like none on Earth, Calm might seem a vitiation. In ten hours this vast world spins, Winds are not by landforms slowed, Deep-born fires drive them swifter, Storm-belts circle round the globe. Hurricane-spun layers of clouds For untold miles are plunging cliffs; Reds above so vivid-lit, Are dusky brown in Sunless depths. Freezing heights, but torrid abyss - A steam-layer seethes, in dark miasma, Chemistries run wild, far down Through scores of sequent vaporous strata. There at last, the sky may end (In no plain boundary, nowhere sharp), But under monstrous pressures, air Is forced to fluid, churning dark. Further still this vast descends, So far down, ever hotter, dense; The Jovian sky - though deep it be - Is but a gauze, on depths immense.
I'm working on a book ok well it's been in the works a very long time and I wouldn't consider it a book that tells a story in the way most people are used to. I tried that and it was insanely crappy. But this is the opening to it so far. Introduction to Revelations Within My Mind by MagiAwen THE BEGINNINGS For days I sit and wait For another thought Perhaps a revelation To force what should come naturally A feeling to stir inside me Words wanting to come out But what words and when And why I wonder at times Wait and sit No thoughts coming to mind Tears and fears stirring Listening to my soul Then it comes with no warning Thoughts flicker Dreams shimmer in the corners of my mind Frantically calling to be heard. On a journey you notice That which no one may Some that others cannot see To be aware of what and when and continually ask why To search for explanations Is to be a fool To have a free mind To have an open heart To search for understanding and acceptance That is the goal within myself. I do not know an answer To what questions you may pose What wonders may be brought with suggestion Thoughts that bring revelation to the mind What comes to mind Turned over in thoughts Expressed on paper As fluent as I am able. The question unanswered From where does it come? A sleepless mind it may be Love, life, woes, and experience I am not a painter, My sketches are sad To pat a pot of clay Is nothing I can do I tried to write a book But- my plot was weak I do my best at poems Showing my immaturity It's an odd thing But I feel an art just the same Thought weaving I call it For lack of anything else For you to see my words And open your mind. © 1990-2004
[ambient] This is a ritual to a dream, this is a call to feel, this is a ritual in a dream, this is a whisper to be. possesed, possesed, possesed be by the spirits and the ancients of this creek, possesed, possesed, possesed dream how created was this creek. your eyes become older than the trees in this field and your visions are rising from the bones below your feet, they are buried deep beyond sight, beyond memory of the alive. possesed, possesed, possesed be by the spirits and the ancients of this creek, possesed, possesed, possesed dream how created was this creek. first were the gods, then was the sun, but before them was a leaf sailing in this creek. then came the earth and the men, they all were looking at the creek and the poets sung and the women cried at the the beauty of this creek. and there was plague and there was blood, and there was death swinging its blade, but nothing could change the waters of this creek. the song becomes ancient, there are no words just the radiance of that feeling which created this creek. uuuuuUUUUUuuuuuu aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa UUUUUaaaaaaaaaaaa mAummmmmmmmm aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa © 2004 by Avatar
TIME GOES ON Upon Waking. Wintery chill of November air I feel slowing breathing in Wonderous white sky of morning Dim figures lit by the bright fading sunlight Shadowed by clouds Steam rising off the pillow as day begins Blankets stiff with frost crackling to fold Moist breath from the beasts Leaves mists hanging in limbo Cold leather creaks Metal soft sounds in the snow Sighs, groans, sounds of morning coming to ear Packed and awake the journey continues. © 1990-2004 MagiAwen
The sheperd watches, the sheep do not stray. Everything wanders and days slip away. The sheperd is sleeping, the sheep do not leave. Everyone ponders what's up his sleeve. The sheperd is dead, the sheep are all gone. A wolf slipped in in a sheepskin he donned. The sheep had a chance to all run away, but instead sat there thinking and never once strayed.
Will my thoughts were a voice, endless prattle would I speak. Unintelligble to the righteous, disseminate leader of the weak. Will my prattle were intelligible, endless wisdom I would speak, Unintelligible to the immoral, disseminate leader of the week. Q 04'
SHATTERED She walks with a tortured soul Vacant eyes that look but do not see The past streaming back to her so often it is the now Reality vanishes Her reality now is her torturous mind Memories are meant to fade, meant to heal........ Meant...what is meant...easy to say What is meant to be most often is not reality She lives among horrors we will never know And she may never realize There's a demon around every corner Beasts ugly and vile in every alley A murderer, rapist, addict in every man she sees For she seees only one man....the man that was like a god to the child of 4 years To the child that was lost....who died within her Scars on her face, arms, stomach, and back...... Do not begin to tell the amount of pain and suffering she still endures Also as I cannot begin to scratch the surface of her sorrow For some things there are no words that can fully describe For her, I cry...... © 1990-2004 MagiAwen
TO FEEL PAIN How much pain I do feel that is not my own.... Not my experience, not my creation No imagination do I have for such things. Waves cover me like the beach at tide.... Of anguish and fear Sorrow, horrible memories that I know Are not mine.... Empathy may be a gift to some Compassion may come naturally But this...this is something I don't know what to call..... © 1990-2004 MagiAwen
Bondage Whisper sweet nothings. Open my mind. Tell me I'm something, I'm one of a kind. Make me feel special. Make me feel real. Tell me I'm god. I'm the real deal. Call me your master and I'll be your slave. Say "fuck me faster" and I'll give what you crave. I'll tie you up and be in the palm of your hand. Then I'll fuck you until neither of us can stand. The cuffs are real cute but rope is much better. My god I'm so hard, and you've never looked wetter. Let's go to paradise, I'll drive all the way. Deep into heaven, you're such a great lay. And when we are done I'll undo the knots. We'll lie exhausted in our little cot. You'll say "I love you" and I'll say I know. And the webcam will say we gave a great show.
Hello Babes With the same heart, I share my love and hurt My lips, giving with their soft, loving touches Shall make your bosom a salted wetness Is it really so complicated, this mesh of neurons? Now here, then there Forever in search of your love, Endlessly seeking a futile freedom At once sharing in a loving embrace And irking from commitment’s preface Perhaps the beauty in a blowing leaf is where next? But its end is always down So hello babes, let’s make the best of it.
Betrayed Trapped I am in this my dream. What is this reality? Am I walking a pathway unseen the same roads of eternity. What hides within the whispering shadows darkened tendrils caressing my skin madness beckons from creaking gallows putrifying flesh decaying within. Life growing, swarming within the death eyes now unseeing loll on pallid cheeks a million living creatures take a breath as the wooden timber in the breeze creaks. To attack again in their ferocious hunger a darkened cloud tinged with red the aged dying replaced by the younger a new circle of life being bred. Eating from the body hanging bare noose drawn tight round a neck broken did anyone in this world ever care for a lonely boy who had never spoken. An outcast taunted by his peers surviving on the scraps of others he would never show anyone his tears fellow men were never his brothers. His day was night when men slept free to walk the silent streets it was then that his body wept stumbling along on his aching feet. Then he came across the silent entity a mannequin lying on the ground he knelt beside her feeling pity unable to utter a single sound. His hand touched the pliant mask pulling away, hand now coloured red knowing that he could never ask if this was a person lying dead. He ran from one as quiet as he to hide from the now rising sun each day being plagued by misery as the hunt had now begun. Dragged from the shadows of his lair kicked and beaten to the ground hung without trial and no-one to care because blood on his clothes was found. Yet it is I who can find no rest watching feet dangle in the sun for that lolling eye shows detest to a father who betrayed his only son.
