Paradise

  

To have heard an elephant’s trumpeting call,

The grey beast’s thunderous cry. 

To have seen the arc beneath water’s fall,

Cascading from heavens high.

 

To have felt the lion’s great tawny mane,

Groomed by tooth and paw.

To have tasted the nectar’d sugar cane, 

Freshly cut and raw. 

 

Venture across vast African plains,

Great jungles of the Amazon.

Through scorching sun and torrential rains,

For a sense that must be won.

 

A sense hard-earned, hard-fought and yet,

You’ll never know a match  

For my lady’s lips, and I’ll gladly bet

A yearly pocketed catch. 

 

To have heard such song and soothing voice,

As could lull the grey beast’s rage.

To have seen smiles beaming with rejoice,

That dimmed the fall’s hued age. 

 

To have felt the petals of a kiss,

Masking lion’s power and sway.

To have tasted a love, so sweet as this,

And lived in paradise each day. 

 

Such are her lips: so soft, so sweet,

So filled with joy and mirth.

They hide adventures and beauties untold,

More than any upon this earth. 

Lost in Anger

A Storm rolls in, thunder n' lightning, as wrath climbs. Time is inconsequential, as all else is swept aside. Here and now are only and all. Doubt gone, reason lost and peace pointless. It escalates: all in its path is demolished; friend and foe. Blind. What before was endless enmity, gives way now to distressed dread, as fury falls to fear. As the Emotion wanes and falls beneath his horizon, Realization dawns, sheds light on the aftermath. Stagnating. Festering. The Cicatrice of Cognizance. Leaves mute Pain. Deadly Despair in the Spectral Solitude.

Constant

Stronger together,

Than we are alone.

Risks and gambles,

Against the unknown.

Constant, this love,

this love that has grown.

Flowing always,

Like river against stone.

A wayward ship,

At the beck of the breeze.

Tossed to and fro,

Upon these high seas.

But where to rest?

No port kept ready.

You are my anchor.

You keep me steady.

This love my dear,

It keeps us whole.

Fills our mind,

Our heart, our soul.

Never dwindling,

But always so bright.

Standing tall,

Set to take flight

Like birds in may,

Soar to new heights,

Through good and bad,

Past pleasure and plight.

So here I scrawl:

Continue this fight,

This battle, this brawl.

Against our might

Obstacles fall,

Day or night

Big or small,

Remember, sweetheart:

Love conquers all.

For Shalina

High School Flirt

Trudging down grey hallways,

Though they seem to stretch for miles.

Twists and turns past jocks and nerds,

Their dark glares and fake smiles.

Turns the corner and there she is,

His heart now in his throat,

What do I say? How to say it?

As she pulls on her coat.

Dark blue jeans sit just right,

Below a pitch black shirt.

Her bag sits packed, now’s the time,

But I don’t know how to flirt!

Her dark brown hair cascades down,

Like water’s heavy fall.

Across her shoulders, moulded fair,

Down past her silken shawl.

Eyes so warm, they draw him in.

He’s locked now in a daze.

Longing, yearning, aching for

A glimpse, a glance, a gaze!

The bell has tolled, the stampede’s begun.

Though it seems to drag on forever.

But he knows better of that damned clock,

It’s really now or never.

Cautious steps, he shuffles forward,

Like a mouse in the lion’s den.

But oh, what’s this? Another guy?!

Starts to make his move right then!

This cannot be! Goddamnit all!

His heart sinks low again.

But he summons his strength, says his prayer,

Then utters a quick ‘amen’.

He circles in, now the lion,

And quickly yells out “Hey!”

“Jack,” he says “Ms. Peters asked,

That I get you right away.”

The boy, he gave a puzzled look,

But didn’t give any sass.

After all, he knew better.

He was already failing that class.

As he dashed off, the girl seemed startled,

“Is it true?” she frowned.

Our hero shook his head and then he said.

“I couldn’t have him around.”

“Why ever not?” the girl protested,

And she stood straight and stout.

The boy he grinned, put up his hands,

“Why don’t you just hear me out?”

With her hands on her hips, she waited to hear.

What this young dog had to say.

After all, it seemed rather rude,

To keep her late on a school day.

“You see,” he said, “I must confess.

I’ve been keeping secrets from you.”

She waited to hear what would come next,

She really hadn’t a clue.

Her heart, it drummed beneath her chest,

Like a hummingbird’s swift wings.

His words they moved her, swung her, proved her,

Like a puppet tied to its strings.

“Go on, what is it?” She begged to know.

Could this really be true?

Our hero grinned, then eye to eye,

Said “I’m in love with you.”

Grit So Grand

This is my first post in a while, I know. But school's growing increasingly territorial (as if it wasn't in the first place) of my time.

Thankfully, one of my professors gave us the option of writing either:

a) a comparative essay detailing contemporary theatrical methods with those of earlier days

or

b) a ballad of our own creation based on whatever subject we so whimsically chose.

Yeah. The choice was clear: ESSAY... (No, not actually.)

With that in mind, I wanted to write an epic ballad rather than one about budding flowers, fluttering butterflies and other boring shit. So, I figured I'd write about William Wallace - being the traditional rebellious badass (and because I love the movie Braveheart)- and the underdog-Scottish victory at Stirling Bridge during the First Scottish War of Independence.

The battle took place in September 1297. The English forces, led by John de Warenne, numbered over 12,000 infantry, archers and cavalry. Across the river Forth awaited the Scottish army with William Wallace and Andrew Murray at the head of almost 2,500 men.

Here goes:

Grit So Grand

The Forth, she still flows free and strong,

To courage she’s bore witness.

But ne’er did she see grit so grand,

As that of William Wallace.

The Sun sat high upon her throne,

Clouded servants clothed in gold,

Awaiting on her hand and foot

As she watched this scene unfold.

The Scots, they all stood arm to arm,

Their breath, it grew thin and light.

‘Cross the wide Forth waited their doom:

De Warenne’s fierce English knights.

The Scots, they had fought long and hard,

To be where they were that day.

‘Gainst bondage and for freedom’s sake,

They had shed brave blood and prayed.

But the English they knew battle

And stood ten thousand strong.

Against Wallace and his two grand,

Who burst in merry song:

“Ye English bastards, come along.

Bring spears and horses again.

But take good heed and mind yourselves,

For ye face and fight free men!”

Yet all that stood ‘twixt Scot and Brit

Across that mighty river:

A path hewn of wood and timber,

Would the battle deliver.

Orders given: cross and advance!

The English, their attack pressed. 

Yet this narrow bridge just allowed

but two lone horsemen abreast.

Wallace halted and stayed his men,

“Wait, my friends, to start this fight.

We’ll bide our time and sit in wait,

Until the moment is right.”

Oh, beautiful Fortune has smiled!

The English crossed the water.

De Warenne sent his hardened knights,

Just two by two to slaughter. 

Wallace grinned to see such folly:

He knew the battle was theirs. 

And so he loosed his ready men,

Like mad dogs upon weak hares.

Their numbers counting for nothing,

The English were torn to shreds. 

What poor souls could, ran for their lives.

Those that could not lost their heads.

De Warenne, he watched in terror,

To see his strong knights bested.

His ego had cost him dearly,

As England’s strength was tested.

“Retreat!” he called “Retreat at once!”

Before he turned tail and ran. 

What English remained joined him too:

  Save those across the Forth’s span. 

Blood caked the river’s mighty shores,

Victory did the Scots reap.

The Sun, now weary of this scene,

Lay her royal head to sleep. 

The Forth, she still flows free and strong,

To courage she’s bore witness.

But ne’er did she see grit so grand,

As that of William Wallace.

If this was absolute pigswell for you, didn't make a word-of-sense and you feel the need to waste your time even more, go ahead and click on the link below to know more about the Battle of Stirling Bridge.

http://www.bbc.co.uk/history/scottishhistory/independence/trails_independence_stirlingbridge.shtml

Blossom Of Our Knowledge

Age and damage have not withered this bloom,

As long as words live, reality's doom

Cannot touch it. It lies in kept fields.

Untainted by today, Respect is its shield.

It gathers its spores as time rushes ahead,

Until it is plucked for some light to be shed.

Forever generous, so willing to share.

A task so eternal, its vast knowledge to bear.

Step in through the portal, the petals reveal

A new teeming world at your feet does kneel.

The overwhelming beauty of a place unknown,

A unique view of the world is sown.

A mirror to the past, of beliefs and ideas.

A look to the future, of thoughts and fears.

Leather's coccoon, within lies Beauty's devotion,

Binding its pages, my mind and emotion.

But now my friend, this tale is at its end.

Leave this world and let another transcend.

 

 

Have You Seen The Light?

"Tell me, have you seen the light?"

Said the Vicar to the boy.

"Nay Father, I have not yet.

But I've heard its tainted joy."

 

To hear the word, this word of God.

'Tis something we must trust.

'Else wait the fiery pits of Hell,

Forsake our faith we must.

 

Why must we wait, toil and suffer?

For a power we cannot see?

The truth these men so eagerly hide.

The power is you and me.

 

They don their robes, their cloaks of gold.

And speak in tongues long dead.

And preach the word of a Greater Good.

That only to them was said.

 

We are the good, although they preach,

Unworthy of peace untold.

But watch us purge this leperous arm,

And behold the change unfold.

 

 

It's us, it's we

It's you and me.

Left to us, it's true.

To right these wrongs,

And sing these songs,

And do just as we do.

 

No higher place, no stronger race,

No almighty being who can.

Save our souls from sinners' blows

And love our fellow man.

 

Against plague and troubled hardship,

Together we must band.

It takes good deeds and human needs,

To save this wondrous land.

 

We are the Good, we are the Light,

The Beauty and the Love.

And in the end, we all take flight

To soar as peaceful doves.