Best Versions Poems
...inspired by 'A Soldier of the Great War'
by Mark Helprin
The old man stumbles, the young man
swaggers with assurance.
Stars of grace and suns of perfect
promise point to journeys yet uncharted
on their pathways to fulfillment.
The old man dreams of childhood,
cherished memories and golden opportunities.
The young man yearns for sexual expression.
Companions, self-possessed, growing
in respect for their astonishments and fears.
The old man a philosopher,
a master of life's unpredictabilities;
the young man just a neophyte,
the world at his behest.
Together, yet alone, storied travelers
with different versions of the universe.
Isaac Albéniz's Asturias, Three Versions, Three Instruments
I
By Andres SEGOVIA, guitar, 2006
Man lopes up mast-pole
Man lopes up mast-pole
Man lopes up mast-pole
And finds no maiden fair
Who mimes his Asturian air
II
By Andronicus, piano version
Man bikes up mountain
Man bikes up mountain
Man bikes up mountain
And espies masts far from there
Biscay Basques back with wares rare
III
By Florin Croitoru, violin-solo
Man runs up belfry
Man runs up belfry
Man runs up belfry
To count sinners in every square
Come to keep their bosoms bare
© T. Wignesan - Paris, 2018
You were love’s surprise versed in romantic delight.
Your love secured me cuddled and rapport entwined
each time our hearts took time to flesh comfort align.
I felt our lives were meant to fast coupledom attach
in our own signature dressed, love expressed indicators.
Then, time witnessed and felt our adhesiveness contort
from the soul corrosion you brought and skewed forth
to seal us in burdened versions of darkened emotions.
I live suspended between a confused sphere retreat
and a subconscious residence in Neverland’s release.
...inspired by 'A Soldier of the Great War'
by Mark Helprin
The old man stumbles, the young man
swaggers with assurance.
Stars of grace and suns of perfect
promise point to journeys yet uncharted
on their pathways to fulfillment.
The old man dreams of childhood,
cherished memories and golden opportunities.
The young man yearns for sexual expression.
Companions, self-possessed, growing
in respect for their astonishments and fears.
The old man a philosopher,
a master of life's unpredictabilities;
the young man just a neophyte,
the world at his behest.
Together, yet alone, storied travelers
with different versions of the universe.
Phantom Vessel -
Version One
Damaged mind down
down
phantom vessel
distance endless
leaping chasm
between two worlds
no
Slow roll
left-hand take
black marbles
shade side glance
check
Toward
Hoarse Jesus whisper
Listen
No need
No need
hand hold, right
Brother follow
heart hearing
Jesusss.
10 times
Roll away home
Phantom Vessel -
Version Two
His damaged mind
so far down
down
it’s a phantom vessel
an impassable chasm
between us.
Rolling slowly toward me
he takes my left hand
his black eyes
looking side-to-side
checking.
Turns toward me
says “Jesus”
in his hoarse whisper.
“Listen to me
there’s no need for more
no need.”
Holding my right hand now
“Brother
follow your heart
when it says Jesusss.”
He chants “Jesusss”
ten times before
he’s rolled away,
home.
Version One is a crude attempt to write in the "pinyin" form of translation of
Chinese poetry into English:
http://www.chinese-poems.com/bo.html
My poem is not based on translation of an actual Chinese poem. It's just an
experiment.
I very much appreciate the expansion of the categories list, but it neglects
to include such possibilities as human, madness, insanity, illness,
mental illness and others describing the human condition. "Pain" was
as close as I could get to the actual intention of this poem, although it is far
from correct.
Bermuda triangle
Is bizzare
Oh look! I think I found a car
*the above written by 10 year old*
Bermuda triangle
Phenomenal curvature
A natural force of mystery
*this one by me. I think the 10 year def won:))
I have too many regrets
they bloom like tumors
in the soft tissue of memory,
each one pulsing with
what I should have said
before silence set in
like rigor mortis.
I swallowed whole versions of myself
the reckless, the brave,
the boy who ran
before the door slammed shut.
Now I speak in echoes
of things I almost did.
I wear lives
that were never mine
borrowed skin
stitched with trembling hands.
Time doesn’t pass.
It repeats.
A loop of almosts,
a static scream
beneath my breath.
I reach for moments
already burning.
Beg the past
to hold still
while I cut it open
and try to crawl inside.
But every thread frays.
Every version unravels.
Every choice I didn’t make
drags a knife
through the one that did.
And what’s left?
This composite ghost.
This broken archive.
This aching
palimpsest of a person
who once believed
he had time.
The day you died, I was fully grown
A proud parent, with children of my own
All of me lost you, all of me cry
But 5 year old me, keeps asking "why"
That sweet little girl, you tucked in every night
That six year old, you taught to ride a bike
That eleven year old, you waved off to camp
That excited fourteen year old, getting dressed for the dance
That sixteen year old, that just learned to drive
That twenty year old, who lost her first child
The mother version of me is terrified
That you are not by my side
The grown me hurts, with nowhere to hide
It's not just me who lost you, but every girl I am inside
The old man stumbles,
the young man swaggers with assurance;
stars of grace and suns of perfect
promise point to journeys yet uncharted
on their pathways to fulfillment.
The old man dreams of childhood,
cherished memories and golden opportunities.
The young man yearns for sexual expression.
Companions, self-possessed, growing
in respect for their astonishments and fears;
the old man a philosopher,
a master of life's unpredictabilities,
the young man just a neophyte,
the world at his behest.
Together, yet alone, storied travellers
with different versions of the universe.
...inspired by 'A Soldier of the Great War'
by Mark Helprin
The old man stumbles, the young man
swaggers with assurance.
Stars of grace and suns of perfect
promise point to journeys yet uncharted
on their pathways to fulfillment.
The old man dreams of childhood,
cherished memories and golden opportunities.
The young man yearns for sexual expression.
Companions, self-possessed, growing
in respect for their astonishments and fears.
The old man a philosopher,
a master of life's unpredictabilities;
the young man just a neophyte,
the world at his behest.
Together, yet alone, storied travelers
with different versions of the universe.
The version you had of me
Never existed
Just an illusion
You created.
The story never ends
I exist in different shades
Hidden behind masks
Or wearing tinted glasses.
Mind games
Spells to entice
Cards played right
A hidden fire ignites.
1.
I miss you still,
all’s hurt and weeping, shrouding orb and stars,
while nourishments a pot of poisoned love
that in my desperation I consume
cold on the ash of angers fiery words.
1.
I sift and rake love’s cinders so to find
some fragments to construct a fragile chain
to fasten me to you and you to love,
treat tender, lead me into warmth from chill,
I love you still
2
FULL RHYME VERSION
I miss you still
all’s hurt and weep as I the past distill,
while nourishments a pot of poisoned love
that I consume and never can tire of
cold on the ash of angers fiery words.
That ash I sift and rake for I am spurred
to make from fragments there a fragile chain
that fastens us once more in love’s domain.
Treat tender dear, come into warmth from chill,
I love you still.
In that very moment
When it matters the most
It’s vital that I own it
Yet when my wisdom ghosts
It turns me to a liar
Though I never meant to be
I try and calm the fire
But all arson points to me
I’m flustered and confused
By those who sing my praises
They assure me, I’m not bruised
But my wounds appear in phases
There’s no telling when I’ll soar
Or when I’ll make you proud
I may just hit the floor
If the voices get too loud
It cannot be predicted
Which version will appear
Or which will be evicted
I represent whoever’s here
...inspired by 'A Soldier of the Great War'
by Mark Helprin
The old man stumbles,
the young man swaggers with assurance.
Stars of grace and suns of perfect
promise point to journeys yet uncharted
on their pathways to fulfillment.
The old man dreams of childhood,
cherished memories and proven opportunities.
The young man yearns for sexual expression.
Companions, self-possessed, grow
in respect for their astonishments and fears.
The old man a philosopher,
a master of life's unpredictabilities;
the young man just a neophyte,
the world at his behest.
Together, yet alone, storied travelers
with different versions of the universe.
...inspired by 'A Soldier of the Great War'
by Mark Helprin
The old man stumbles, the young man
swaggers with assurance.
Stars of grace and suns of perfect
promise point to journeys yet uncharted
on their pathways to fulfillment.
The old man dreams of childhood,
cherished memories and golden opportunities.
The young man longs for sexual expression!
Companions, self-possessed, growing
in respect for their astonishments and fears.
The old man a philosopher,
a master of life's unpredictabilities;
the young man just a neophyte,
the world at his behest.
Together, yet alone, storied travelers
with different versions of the universe.