Submissions by LeMuseNoir
POEMS AND SHORT STORIES
Poet Introduction
When it comes to writing poetry- I am rather like Mark Twain- for I tend to "follow the cat of inclination".
Reflections Upon Reading "Title (of a)Poem" by Dkzksaxxass DanielX (DadaDoggyDannyKozakSazfn)- & dedicated
When a man attains a certain age- he has (it seems) a meta/physical war to wage.
And so he must enjoin the fickle fight twixt -"To be or not to be" and "Do not go gentle into that good night".
Though the "rosebuds gathered while ye may" now have withered all away into dessicate decay.
And though "yellow leaves, or few, or none, do hang-" (according to a certain Shakespearean harangue)-
And though it be a "long,long while from May to December", then needs he must "try to remember"
The wise words of that sagely rhyme, that "age and treachery beat youth and stamina...
And so he must enjoin the fickle fight twixt -"To be or not to be" and "Do not go gentle into that good night".
Though the "rosebuds gathered while ye may" now have withered all away into dessicate decay.
And though "yellow leaves, or few, or none, do hang-" (according to a certain Shakespearean harangue)-
And though it be a "long,long while from May to December", then needs he must "try to remember"
The wise words of that sagely rhyme, that "age and treachery beat youth and stamina...
698 reads
1 Comment
Consciousness and Confusion
I feel the need to, perhaps, discuss
the many-chambered nautilus-
That spiral shell-of-self that lies
Twixt my ears and behind my eyes.
And where, then, should my search begin
from center out, or from outwards in?
How then am I to understand-
does the thing contract, or does it expand?
the many-chambered nautilus-
That spiral shell-of-self that lies
Twixt my ears and behind my eyes.
And where, then, should my search begin
from center out, or from outwards in?
How then am I to understand-
does the thing contract, or does it expand?
863 reads
5 Comments
To Old Friends
The party seems still to be going on-
Perhaps a few had noticed I was gone-
Just one amongst the endless throng-
A fading voice in memory.
The music still plays sweet and sad-
And all the dancers- good and bad-
Both the sane and the mad-
Is there room yet on the dance floor for me?
And so the seasons flow and turn-
Full of lessons I have still to learn-
No clarion-call for my return-
From foggy reverie.
And armed with new tales to tell-
Thus returns this prodigal-
As grizzled monk to vesper bell-
Is there welcome here...
Perhaps a few had noticed I was gone-
Just one amongst the endless throng-
A fading voice in memory.
The music still plays sweet and sad-
And all the dancers- good and bad-
Both the sane and the mad-
Is there room yet on the dance floor for me?
And so the seasons flow and turn-
Full of lessons I have still to learn-
No clarion-call for my return-
From foggy reverie.
And armed with new tales to tell-
Thus returns this prodigal-
As grizzled monk to vesper bell-
Is there welcome here...
818 reads
5 Comments
“The Night Afore Christmas” or “A Visit From Grandma”
Twas the most important night of the whole yuletide-
And not a critter was stirrin' in the whole double-wide.
We youngin's was tucked in, and pretendin' we was sleepin'-
But we really was awake and our watch we was keepin'-
To hear the arrival of good ol' St. Nick, out in the dark
When he guided his sleigh into our trailer park.
Ma was puttin' the final touches to her special fruitcake-
Pa had drunk a whole twelve-pack and was pretty much baked.
When out on the lawn there arose such a clatter
We ran fer the winders ta see what it was, was the matter....
And not a critter was stirrin' in the whole double-wide.
We youngin's was tucked in, and pretendin' we was sleepin'-
But we really was awake and our watch we was keepin'-
To hear the arrival of good ol' St. Nick, out in the dark
When he guided his sleigh into our trailer park.
Ma was puttin' the final touches to her special fruitcake-
Pa had drunk a whole twelve-pack and was pretty much baked.
When out on the lawn there arose such a clatter
We ran fer the winders ta see what it was, was the matter....
1026 reads
2 Comments
"Le Front Brillaunt" - a lesson in life and archaic French
There lived a knight in days of olde-
Most noble and gallant.
His heart was pure- his manner bold
They called him “Le Front Brillaunt”.
Pure of heart and gentle of mien
The epitome of romaunt -
Mighty of arm and nimble of brain
The noble “Le Front Brillaunt”.
Of hubris he nothing knew –
He was humble and bien-pensant
His soul was pure as the morning dew
The virtuous “Le Front Brillaunt”
His daring deeds known far and wide
From shore to far piedmont-
No plea for help would be denied
By the heroic “Le Front...
Most noble and gallant.
His heart was pure- his manner bold
They called him “Le Front Brillaunt”.
Pure of heart and gentle of mien
The epitome of romaunt -
Mighty of arm and nimble of brain
The noble “Le Front Brillaunt”.
Of hubris he nothing knew –
He was humble and bien-pensant
His soul was pure as the morning dew
The virtuous “Le Front Brillaunt”
His daring deeds known far and wide
From shore to far piedmont-
No plea for help would be denied
By the heroic “Le Front...
791 reads
1 Comment
TO A LOST LOVE - An Homage to E.A.P.
Desolate the path which I have trod, driven by some dark and pagan god-
Whose primeval powers have the ravages of grief-stained time withstood.
Steep and twisting was the path, with whispered secrets and guttering laugh-
Driving me on, and ever deeper, into the sable-shadowed wood.
Where close-cloaked demon memories lurk- glittering eye and sharp-toothed smirk-
Where lambent light of ancient moon is raked by gnarled and twisted branch.
And keening zephyr's ululation gives susurrus voice'd imitation
Of some faint, echoed, lamentation of...
Whose primeval powers have the ravages of grief-stained time withstood.
Steep and twisting was the path, with whispered secrets and guttering laugh-
Driving me on, and ever deeper, into the sable-shadowed wood.
Where close-cloaked demon memories lurk- glittering eye and sharp-toothed smirk-
Where lambent light of ancient moon is raked by gnarled and twisted branch.
And keening zephyr's ululation gives susurrus voice'd imitation
Of some faint, echoed, lamentation of...
1128 reads
10 Comments
SHADOW SONG
Take my hand when the world grows dark and all around fall shadows deep,
Wrap me in your loving arms and soothe me gently into sleep.
Bathe with kisses my weary eyes and with gentle phrases calm my mind,
Within the sanctuary of your heart let me some sweet respite find.
And I shall do the same for thee, when the world too weary weighs
So shall we pass the dark of night, and await the coming of brighter days.
Wrap me in your loving arms and soothe me gently into sleep.
Bathe with kisses my weary eyes and with gentle phrases calm my mind,
Within the sanctuary of your heart let me some sweet respite find.
And I shall do the same for thee, when the world too weary weighs
So shall we pass the dark of night, and await the coming of brighter days.
887 reads
2 Comments
The Pipes Are Calling
Oh, the pipes - oh, the pipes - they are calling me home-
To a castle that stands high on a hill.
How I long to see that place - feel the warm sun on my face -
For I'm tired of this valley and its chill.
And from the tower room you can smell the heather bloom -
And can watch the falcon racing through the sky -
And my heart longs to stroll through the heather on the knoll-
And my soul with the falcon longs to fly.
Oh, the pipes - oh, the pipes - they are calling me home -
To a place where the crystal waters flow.
Our time is at an end, fare...
To a castle that stands high on a hill.
How I long to see that place - feel the warm sun on my face -
For I'm tired of this valley and its chill.
And from the tower room you can smell the heather bloom -
And can watch the falcon racing through the sky -
And my heart longs to stroll through the heather on the knoll-
And my soul with the falcon longs to fly.
Oh, the pipes - oh, the pipes - they are calling me home -
To a place where the crystal waters flow.
Our time is at an end, fare...
1065 reads
4 Comments
A Celtic Lullaby
Now is the ending of the long, bright, day-
Deep in the shadows the fairies are at play.
Rest your weary head here in my arms-
I will keep you safe from harm.
Lullalu- lullalay - Lullalu-lullalay
Sleep now beloved at the ending of the day.
Far in the darkness hear the Night-bird as she sings-
Scattering the stars with the fluttering of her wings.
Sleep beloved, close your drowsy eyes-
While I and the Night-bird sweetly harmonize.
Lullalu-lullalay - Lullalu-lullalay
Sleep now beloved, at the ending of the day.
High in the...
Deep in the shadows the fairies are at play.
Rest your weary head here in my arms-
I will keep you safe from harm.
Lullalu- lullalay - Lullalu-lullalay
Sleep now beloved at the ending of the day.
Far in the darkness hear the Night-bird as she sings-
Scattering the stars with the fluttering of her wings.
Sleep beloved, close your drowsy eyes-
While I and the Night-bird sweetly harmonize.
Lullalu-lullalay - Lullalu-lullalay
Sleep now beloved, at the ending of the day.
High in the...
1328 reads
4 Comments
Stream of Consciousness -3a.m.
Talking with a friend stirred up the ghosts
Converation as can opener
Breaking the tight vacuum seal
Placed there "for my own good"
By a brain too timid and a heart too tender
To truly understand absence
Daylight seems safer than night
Or perhaps just easier
More distractions
Easier then
to "Pay no attention to the men behind the curtain"
Ghosts fear the day
Or perhaps I do
So I work harder at avoidance
Of
Obvious and uncomfortable
Truths
Denial as sundial
- wry smile -
In a blue sky
Sins burn...
Converation as can opener
Breaking the tight vacuum seal
Placed there "for my own good"
By a brain too timid and a heart too tender
To truly understand absence
Daylight seems safer than night
Or perhaps just easier
More distractions
Easier then
to "Pay no attention to the men behind the curtain"
Ghosts fear the day
Or perhaps I do
So I work harder at avoidance
Of
Obvious and uncomfortable
Truths
Denial as sundial
- wry smile -
In a blue sky
Sins burn...
933 reads
For M'Lady On Her Birthday
From far-off vista in the East
There comes a glorious roundelay
Of chitterah, lyre, and reeded flute.
And such sweet music do they play
That all in nature doth stop and list'
In wonder, at its musiked bliss.
And then there comes sweet voic-ed songs
Which gladsome notes the peaks prolong,
By sending back the echoes sweet.
And so the wondrous sounds repeat.
With gladsome roister and fulsome mirth
The glorious troupe with hyms rejoice.
With cymbal crash and tabor beat
With joyous and exalting voice,
In rapturous joy they carol...
There comes a glorious roundelay
Of chitterah, lyre, and reeded flute.
And such sweet music do they play
That all in nature doth stop and list'
In wonder, at its musiked bliss.
And then there comes sweet voic-ed songs
Which gladsome notes the peaks prolong,
By sending back the echoes sweet.
And so the wondrous sounds repeat.
With gladsome roister and fulsome mirth
The glorious troupe with hyms rejoice.
With cymbal crash and tabor beat
With joyous and exalting voice,
In rapturous joy they carol...
1181 reads
5 Comments
TURNING SIXTY
or
A Gal - A Gremlin and a Kamikaze Hippopotamus
It will happen soon
I can feel it in my bones
As inescapable as time
As unavoidable as fate
SIXTY!
Oh yes, it's coming
I can sense it in my soul
Can almost smell it in the air
It's coming all right
SIXTY!!
Thank God
Not Years
Not age
DEGREES!
Rite of passage
Rite of spring
Gal pal - Deb
Gremlin - car not creature
Hippo
Beanbag toy on dash
By the name of
"Uhdgee Bhudgee"
- Hey, we all have to be named something -
First warm day...
A Gal - A Gremlin and a Kamikaze Hippopotamus
It will happen soon
I can feel it in my bones
As inescapable as time
As unavoidable as fate
SIXTY!
Oh yes, it's coming
I can sense it in my soul
Can almost smell it in the air
It's coming all right
SIXTY!!
Thank God
Not Years
Not age
DEGREES!
Rite of passage
Rite of spring
Gal pal - Deb
Gremlin - car not creature
Hippo
Beanbag toy on dash
By the name of
"Uhdgee Bhudgee"
- Hey, we all have to be named something -
First warm day...
1224 reads
8 Comments
DU Poetry : Submissions by LeMuseNoir