my verse

[beaulolais]

i will be posting my verse here, and maybe some stories too.

this first one is my favorite, about love but also about how time can be so subjective.


moments

we did not fashion the everlasting

nor did we create the undying,

but what we made,

in that dull round of days,

what we made were moments,

entire in themselves,

shining,

suspended like liquescent globes

in the aching sky

of the eternal present.


(c) chessiejo 2008

[chessiejo is the name of my original account]  

[Sita Harker]

I think it's very pretty ^_^ heart  

[Lhia Dunwaith]

Awww, I like that. It's nice. =D  

[beaulolais]

this one is autobiographical, a love poem after the fact.

were you and i solid enough to fail
yet still live on in shining memory?
i so much dread what may soon come to be,
living empty-hearted, shell-shocked and pale.

i said then, our love was worth any price,
so now the piper comes back to be paid.
i have regrets! but i am not afraid;
for what we were, i yet would pay it twice.


(c) chessiejo 2008  

[beaulolais]

since this forum often deals with fantasy and speculation about "what if?", i hoped this next poem might be appropriate:

Sonnet of Disillusion

What if the world were meaningful and joy
Awaited each new morning sunrise?
What if we had fine talents to employ,
Great deeds at hand, and we were strong and wise?
What if we glady gave each other aid
So cheerful we, no nuisance could annoy,
No fearsome foe could make us feel afraid,
Nor daily troubles our sweet bliss alloy?

Yet scenes of horror come before our eyes:
Disease, war, poverty and crime destroy
The innocent, who no guilt have displayed.
Ignorant masses right and truth despise
And seek low, beastly pleasures to enjoy.
No what-ifs can amend our foul charade.

(c) chessiejo 2009  

[Catherine of Aragon]

Great job, all of these are really good!  

[beaulolais]

because i enjoy the company of friends i have met here in this guild, i decided to include this one:

choosing friends


we like to choose the styles of clothes we wear
and all the music that we listen to;
we choose the length and color of our hair,
and games and other fun things that we do.
we try to choose what kind of foods we eat,
and movies that we like to go and see;
we claim the finest footwear for our feet
and even what profession we will be.

but we can never choose our truest friends.
the choice must lie with them, or life, or fate.
we are the chosen, not the chooser, then.
such choosing forms a bond that never ends.
no gift could be so grand, no joy so great.
i am so grateful i can call you "friend".


(c) chessiejo 2008  

[Sita Harker]

Aw, that's so sweet! And so true heart  

[beaulolais]

this was inspired by a visit to our family cabin on a remote lake four hours north of Toronto.

it does have a rhyme scheme, but it's not an obvious one! wink

,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,

here the driftwood lies piled, stormwrack.

shelved on this bare rock, this island.

islands are the bones of the earth.

stormwrack is tree's bones and land's dearth.

i hold mortality in hand

lying on the stone, on my back.

let wind and wave claim me as well.

my body be scoured and laid bare.

bones may be at peace, i can tell,

when cradled by stone, waves and air.  

[beaulolais]

slam
slap
shatter
smash

squeal
brakes
skid
crash

pills
dope
try
fail

cut
caught
psych
jail

tear
shred
photos

burn
mementos

thats
how
life
goes  

[beaulolais]

here is something seasonal.

of course i will leave it up here forever, but for a while it will be seasonal!

.....................................................
Sonnet on the Autumnal Equinox

The snows of yesteryear have gone away,
They linger only in our memory:
Vast frozen fields of white that turn to grey,
No living thing for miles around to see.
We gladly wait for spring, summer and fall,
The day-bright times when living takes full sway...
But winter comes and darkness takes us all,
And chill night must consume each futile day.

We dare not look ahead, no prophets we;
Preferring present joys, come then what may.
Ignore the shadows casting forth their pall.
We vainly claim our time to live it free:
"These sunlit hours suffice" we bravely say.
But winter comes and darkness takes us all.

(c)chessiejo 2008