Submissions by reynardine (La Reynardine)
POEMS AND SHORT STORIES
LOVE POEM
Published
10th Feb 2010 8:18pm
10th Feb 2010 8:18pm
Know
I know
When my head should follow my broken heart.
I know
If you shall prove doubt as wrong in love.
And I know
Just what to take when it isn't enough.
I know, you
Will bite the hand that feeds before it starts.
You know
What I need to know - what life shall throw.
You know
That your head is colder than the sun at home.
You know
Where your heart heals its sorry stabs and moans.
You know
That the time can hide how minds sink low.
Your sad murmur may deflate the sky,
And let the clouds roll...
When my head should follow my broken heart.
I know
If you shall prove doubt as wrong in love.
And I know
Just what to take when it isn't enough.
I know, you
Will bite the hand that feeds before it starts.
You know
What I need to know - what life shall throw.
You know
That your head is colder than the sun at home.
You know
Where your heart heals its sorry stabs and moans.
You know
That the time can hide how minds sink low.
Your sad murmur may deflate the sky,
And let the clouds roll...
697 reads
0 Comments
DARK POEM
Published
15th Jan 2010 11:05pm
15th Jan 2010 11:05pm
Seasons
Whether seasons are but two or four,
Can do nothing but a heart abhor.
Snow in spring and heat in wintertide,
Does what hearts can seldomnly abide.
Then a change, a change! It's near at hand,
Glass moves slowly through a narrow sand.
Warm and cold, the rain falls all the year,
Draining blood with thicker Mortal fear.
Will you change the season that brings light?
And replace the deepest human fright.
Can do nothing but a heart abhor.
Snow in spring and heat in wintertide,
Does what hearts can seldomnly abide.
Then a change, a change! It's near at hand,
Glass moves slowly through a narrow sand.
Warm and cold, the rain falls all the year,
Draining blood with thicker Mortal fear.
Will you change the season that brings light?
And replace the deepest human fright.
709 reads
0 Comments
SELF POEM
Published
12th Jan 2010 8:19pm
12th Jan 2010 8:19pm
A Salvation or an Army
I have to fight my way through,
Have to see their sorry bitter faces.
They're shaking their stick down low,
And beating me, with a shoe and its laces.
And I'm asking, why? What? When? Wherefore?
It's not what they hear, not what they take,
When they hear me beg for help and support,
they think it's because hell has told me there's nothing left to give
I should leave this sorry town,
Take my clothes to the north and just run
Far from the mad crowd and this frown,
And use my time to be different, another someone
But it's cold up there and...
Have to see their sorry bitter faces.
They're shaking their stick down low,
And beating me, with a shoe and its laces.
And I'm asking, why? What? When? Wherefore?
It's not what they hear, not what they take,
When they hear me beg for help and support,
they think it's because hell has told me there's nothing left to give
I should leave this sorry town,
Take my clothes to the north and just run
Far from the mad crowd and this frown,
And use my time to be different, another someone
But it's cold up there and...
617 reads
0 Comments
LOVE POEM
Published
12th Jan 2010 8:16pm
12th Jan 2010 8:16pm
Dancer
If love be a theatre play, I'll stay at home
So when the curtains are called, I don't have to applaud
I'll wait by myself till the course has been passed
And about it, I'll not utter a word
I'll stay in silence and imagine love
Not as 3 acts in an overblown farce
I'll think it's something real, something tender and sweet
Something that's too good not to last
So when the curtains are called, I don't have to applaud
I'll wait by myself till the course has been passed
And about it, I'll not utter a word
I'll stay in silence and imagine love
Not as 3 acts in an overblown farce
I'll think it's something real, something tender and sweet
Something that's too good not to last
632 reads
1 Comment
STORY POEM
Published
9th Dec 2009 6:03pm
9th Dec 2009 6:03pm
The Dance of Albion
Down upon the choppy seas, blinded by what no man sees,
A ship flits on with hearty souls, trying to plug the gaping holes.
Their wish like Camelot arising, their boat though close to capsizing.
To the high risen stars or stony sea bed, that's what Albion to they had said
But to what end the rascals did not know, just to sail on course today and tomorrow
A ship flits on with hearty souls, trying to plug the gaping holes.
Their wish like Camelot arising, their boat though close to capsizing.
To the high risen stars or stony sea bed, that's what Albion to they had said
But to what end the rascals did not know, just to sail on course today and tomorrow
1138 reads
0 Comments
LOVE POEM
Published
9th Dec 2009 6:01pm
9th Dec 2009 6:01pm
Story
The face of belief is too hard to see,
The wish to be right, but to disagree.
The car leaves the drive, and the drive is free,
But can't ever accept, that it's what should be.
Love me or leave a slight on my heart,
that twinges and tweaks like a path through a park,
That's what you'll do, you've begun to start,
But you'll never start to end, because you've driven off, far.
You'll scream about the roads, and blame someone else,
But you did just the same, as your history tells.
A story, with a familiar twist, how about making it different this time?
The wish to be right, but to disagree.
The car leaves the drive, and the drive is free,
But can't ever accept, that it's what should be.
Love me or leave a slight on my heart,
that twinges and tweaks like a path through a park,
That's what you'll do, you've begun to start,
But you'll never start to end, because you've driven off, far.
You'll scream about the roads, and blame someone else,
But you did just the same, as your history tells.
A story, with a familiar twist, how about making it different this time?
697 reads
2 Comments
STORY POEM
Published
8th Dec 2009 5:23pm
8th Dec 2009 5:23pm
Nature? Nay Tour? Fate or?
Nature? Nay Tour? Fate or?
Just let the poets cry themselves to sleep,
Let the musicians play on their tearful words.
Where the Bible doesn't reach,
and where the deceitful river is not heard.
The boyish bravery of the automatic writing,
that is scribbled on the parasol head;
Or the macho primality of each far sighting,
that just defends what the warlord hadn't said.
In the skies fly the eagles of yesterday's today,
weeping sadly through their feathered frames.
Maybe they will clean their souls on the way,
but never will remember...
Just let the poets cry themselves to sleep,
Let the musicians play on their tearful words.
Where the Bible doesn't reach,
and where the deceitful river is not heard.
The boyish bravery of the automatic writing,
that is scribbled on the parasol head;
Or the macho primality of each far sighting,
that just defends what the warlord hadn't said.
In the skies fly the eagles of yesterday's today,
weeping sadly through their feathered frames.
Maybe they will clean their souls on the way,
but never will remember...
822 reads
1 Comment
OBSERVATIONAL POEM
Published
8th Dec 2009 5:16pm
8th Dec 2009 5:16pm
1. Control, 2. Righteous
1. Control.
The blue of the night weighs light on the heart,
Though the mind does vex behind resolve.
Whether the storm should blow for regard,
Matters not, for my lot love cannot control
2. Righteous
The heights we reach may be measured,
The depths we plunge may be overlooked,
The ones we won, against those we lost,
The happy, content, push down the despairing.
But time waits - for no man may control it.
Time weighs on the day of the reckoning.
The blue of the night weighs light on the heart,
Though the mind does vex behind resolve.
Whether the storm should blow for regard,
Matters not, for my lot love cannot control
2. Righteous
The heights we reach may be measured,
The depths we plunge may be overlooked,
The ones we won, against those we lost,
The happy, content, push down the despairing.
But time waits - for no man may control it.
Time weighs on the day of the reckoning.
722 reads
0 Comments
LOVE POEM
Published
7th Dec 2009 10:25pm
7th Dec 2009 10:25pm
Remember
Remember, Remember, The Third of September,
The day of the war, the fire, the temper.
A force from the north overriding the south,
So just there in the middle, the war broke out.
From the left were the bullets, the bangs and the blows,
from the right came the words, the verbal throws.
Frozen like the shards of a love gone to waste,
There lie the casualties, that fell in their haste.
He said that, and they said this,
A canon of curses that can only ever miss,
when truth and trust stand strong on the front line,
But so often get rocked by...
The day of the war, the fire, the temper.
A force from the north overriding the south,
So just there in the middle, the war broke out.
From the left were the bullets, the bangs and the blows,
from the right came the words, the verbal throws.
Frozen like the shards of a love gone to waste,
There lie the casualties, that fell in their haste.
He said that, and they said this,
A canon of curses that can only ever miss,
when truth and trust stand strong on the front line,
But so often get rocked by...
723 reads
3 Comments
LOVE POEM
Published
7th Dec 2009 10:22pm
7th Dec 2009 10:22pm
What if?
What if Love has no heart, and we're left to fight,
just to please ourselves, to prove ourselves right?
What if romance is a fraud, and just lives to take away,
to build up our courage, to have something to say?
What if the stories we read are nothing like what we write,
and the words we choose are just black ink on white?
What if?
What if they're not?
just to please ourselves, to prove ourselves right?
What if romance is a fraud, and just lives to take away,
to build up our courage, to have something to say?
What if the stories we read are nothing like what we write,
and the words we choose are just black ink on white?
What if?
What if they're not?
801 reads
3 Comments
DU Poetry : Submissions by reynardine (La Reynardine)
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