Submissions by EvanescentSirius21
POEMS AND SHORT STORIES
MISCELLANEOUS POEM
Published
6th Jan 2024 1:02pm
6th Jan 2024 1:02pm
Dreams Returned
I had a dream a distant night,
Under the starry sky,
That nested in my canopy,
And morning took to flight.
And as I roved the woken realms,
For mornings, days since then,
My dream had flown and wintered far,
Our seasons ceased to blend.
Yet waking on a morning since,
The night my mind had dreamt,
It’s weathered form alighted where,
That night it’s branches bent.
And was a dream from lands returned,
Where waywardly they roam,
But not remiss their fledgling grounds,
They prodigally call home.
Under the starry sky,
That nested in my canopy,
And morning took to flight.
And as I roved the woken realms,
For mornings, days since then,
My dream had flown and wintered far,
Our seasons ceased to blend.
Yet waking on a morning since,
The night my mind had dreamt,
It’s weathered form alighted where,
That night it’s branches bent.
And was a dream from lands returned,
Where waywardly they roam,
But not remiss their fledgling grounds,
They prodigally call home.
#dreams
84 reads
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MISCELLANEOUS POEM
Published
9th Apr 2023 1:53pm
9th Apr 2023 1:53pm
Idyll
The buzz of insects carry forth,
in breaths of summer air,
and fly as from the wings issued,
the sound and source a pair.
The sun espies through foliage,
and lengths of slender bark,
the frolics of his mortal charge,
that buzz and tweet and lark.
The shimmer of the forest lake,
laps gently liquid gold,
ignited in the light of day,
belies refreshing cold.
And calmly slept these dreams of life,
in languid falling rays,
upon the lake and forest spires,
that last unending days.
in breaths of summer air,
and fly as from the wings issued,
the sound and source a pair.
The sun espies through foliage,
and lengths of slender bark,
the frolics of his mortal charge,
that buzz and tweet and lark.
The shimmer of the forest lake,
laps gently liquid gold,
ignited in the light of day,
belies refreshing cold.
And calmly slept these dreams of life,
in languid falling rays,
upon the lake and forest spires,
that last unending days.
#dreams
120 reads
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MISCELLANEOUS POEM
Published
21st Jan 2023 12:37pm
21st Jan 2023 12:37pm
Poem
I keep my ear out for a 'cellar door' that can be
put into a phrase. For that's the entry way they say
to beautiful sounding language. And while that's a lovely
purpose, putting words in pearled strings, it isn't quite so
proud a purpose as saying what you mean.
put into a phrase. For that's the entry way they say
to beautiful sounding language. And while that's a lovely
purpose, putting words in pearled strings, it isn't quite so
proud a purpose as saying what you mean.
#SelfReflection
230 reads
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MISCELLANEOUS POEM
Published
8th Dec 2022 10:26pm
8th Dec 2022 10:26pm
HMS Endeavour
Flooded full, resting in icy blue darkness.
Dark shape beneath the cold sheets above.
Watery bed below, the sails a strewn pillow,
Tattered, frozen to a warped other, by the wrong
Element.
It’s hard to see down there, I’d say. Would the writing
‘Cross entitled end still read as it was writ? Or had the
Rot of sea and ages excoriated all but scratchings?
The vague, indentations that had started, now ending,
Your name, carried off by current and days.
Yet it is spoken, fathomed, down there in among the
Silence. Preserved not, by...
Dark shape beneath the cold sheets above.
Watery bed below, the sails a strewn pillow,
Tattered, frozen to a warped other, by the wrong
Element.
It’s hard to see down there, I’d say. Would the writing
‘Cross entitled end still read as it was writ? Or had the
Rot of sea and ages excoriated all but scratchings?
The vague, indentations that had started, now ending,
Your name, carried off by current and days.
Yet it is spoken, fathomed, down there in among the
Silence. Preserved not, by...
#SelfReflection
145 reads
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MISCELLANEOUS POEM
Published
24th Nov 2022 7:32pm
24th Nov 2022 7:32pm
Revellings in Fatalisms
The materials you have now are the best you’ll ever have,
There is no mind unfolding moment that you’re waiting for-
The maturation of thought? Accumulation of knowledge, of
Experience? Worth something yes, so too decay. And of this
Accumulation, what of its import? Could it, perhaps, be one
Of terrible realisation? That, indeed, all will soon be lost? A
Wise one, indeed, wise. Impels one to act. As a wound that
Bleeds demands suture.
There is no mind unfolding moment that you’re waiting for-
The maturation of thought? Accumulation of knowledge, of
Experience? Worth something yes, so too decay. And of this
Accumulation, what of its import? Could it, perhaps, be one
Of terrible realisation? That, indeed, all will soon be lost? A
Wise one, indeed, wise. Impels one to act. As a wound that
Bleeds demands suture.
#SelfReflection
173 reads
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SPIRITUAL POEM
Published
20th Nov 2022 9:58am
20th Nov 2022 9:58am
The Hanging Gardens
Sat there in that garden, as a poet wrote,
at the cool of day when God to mortal spoke.
What would they hear, the mortal sat, as words
the lord conveyed, amid the garden's greenery,
midday heat allayed.
Would they know whence words had come, would they
mark the source, or would they idle in the cool,
watching insects chart their course.
I know not what they'd hear, as God himself would speak.
Save a garden’s soundings, of leafy blow and wooden creak.
Perhaps that's all there would be heard, to they and I both. ...
at the cool of day when God to mortal spoke.
What would they hear, the mortal sat, as words
the lord conveyed, amid the garden's greenery,
midday heat allayed.
Would they know whence words had come, would they
mark the source, or would they idle in the cool,
watching insects chart their course.
I know not what they'd hear, as God himself would speak.
Save a garden’s soundings, of leafy blow and wooden creak.
Perhaps that's all there would be heard, to they and I both. ...
#God
#SelfReflection
221 reads
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MISCELLANEOUS POEM
Published
19th Nov 2022 8:31pm
19th Nov 2022 8:31pm
Distant Volgorod
Sweetened mountain air of distant Volgorod,
never too far from the warmth of quiet
recollection - oft occasioned as I
sit in gladdened throes of
wistful contemplation,
the stark grandeur
of its spires climbing high the great expanse
of a watchful firmament, great piercing eye,
the sclera but a patchwork, floating islands,
inverted eye, as we gaze following, those eyried
towers - carriers of sight to meet the mystery of
endless skies.
That anywhere soar outstretched, the measure of the
surest sight - yet nowhere...
never too far from the warmth of quiet
recollection - oft occasioned as I
sit in gladdened throes of
wistful contemplation,
the stark grandeur
of its spires climbing high the great expanse
of a watchful firmament, great piercing eye,
the sclera but a patchwork, floating islands,
inverted eye, as we gaze following, those eyried
towers - carriers of sight to meet the mystery of
endless skies.
That anywhere soar outstretched, the measure of the
surest sight - yet nowhere...
#dreams
224 reads
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MISCELLANEOUS POEM
Published
19th Nov 2022 12:53pm
19th Nov 2022 12:53pm
Bottled Starlight
The stars shine brightly,
Burning with the light
Of distant times.
I look to them as
Carriers of tidings,
Long past time,
Like missives lost at
Sea, the bottled words
Of one long gone.
Writ there in the sky
Pale light shines out
Of darkness, to haunt
As ghosts of distant times.
Burning with the light
Of distant times.
I look to them as
Carriers of tidings,
Long past time,
Like missives lost at
Sea, the bottled words
Of one long gone.
Writ there in the sky
Pale light shines out
Of darkness, to haunt
As ghosts of distant times.
#nostalgia
307 reads
2 Comments
MISCELLANEOUS POEM
Published
19th Nov 2022 12:19pm
19th Nov 2022 12:19pm
Palsied Reckonings on Melville
I wondered what the lot of one at sea.
In a brown study, as one might say.
The measure of murky depths...Or to be
upon them, on the great expanse both ways,
across and down, down, to sandy floor, or not,
perhaps, the ignorance of depth to end, so too
the dark down there, perhaps.
What the letting of ways, boundless, restless sea,
airy element's viscous accomplice, giveth way 'pon
the very surface- but I wonder, as the fly trap feeds
it's visitor, for a time, then closes, swallows, yes,
that way, giveth to take, most dearly, ...
In a brown study, as one might say.
The measure of murky depths...Or to be
upon them, on the great expanse both ways,
across and down, down, to sandy floor, or not,
perhaps, the ignorance of depth to end, so too
the dark down there, perhaps.
What the letting of ways, boundless, restless sea,
airy element's viscous accomplice, giveth way 'pon
the very surface- but I wonder, as the fly trap feeds
it's visitor, for a time, then closes, swallows, yes,
that way, giveth to take, most dearly, ...
#SelfReflection
161 reads
1 Comment
DU Poetry : Submissions by EvanescentSirius21
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