You made me to your making
this hideous hide of being
I roam the world
of ice and barren trees
starving
(more hungering)
than food will fill
or sustaining reason
I find myself, by taper light,
a more hollow skeleton
than bones of baren solitude
Chase me, Frankenstein!
Your despondent soul, can still see me
a blot away on a desolate sea,
a stiller ice, an unfathomable sand
I will be where dreams shall see!
Sad to see so many books
for want of being read
dying on the library shelf
some look as tho' they're already dead
and to think I could devour them all is fiction
I would be fooling myself instead
I've consumed all the classics Shakespeare complete
but science and mathematics have me completely beat
with all the thought authors put in hate to see it go to waste
can't put a good book down once I've had a taste
the silence of the written word
drink in the view something on which to chew
speaks volumes there's so much to tell
literacy is as the Trojan Horse inside my heart the citadel
don't want to see them fall by the wayside
thrown in the weeds on the seedy side of town
not wanted around
dropped in the dump out of sight out of mind
take a look there's so many books check them out
and oh so little time
How far gone is my soul and mind,
That coming back seems impossible?
My hands ache to be steered by your prompt,
Yet hours of blankness blunt my will.
But still I can etch out classics—
My pen lies close, surreptitiously listening,
To gather in ink the wisdom you proffer,
For those fleeting moments of madness.
The top ten will never be my goal,
But that one crown that ends the race;
For this is no sprint that halts at a hundred—
A trophy beside my poem is all I crave.
Yet the nearest mile I first must conquer,
Before the next, and miles beyond.
Though fingers ache as if racing from fear,
No shadow of doubt shall make me yield.
Oh mine! Oh mine! I see it now—
A wonder folded deep in words.
I’ve penned a masterpiece for the summit;
No judge can deny its rightful place.
If none are near to ring my bell,
I’ll strike it loud with my own voice;
For I am no gentleman in this contest—
But a rival running the race to win.
Perchance blank sheets had choice,
they’d refuse the stain of ink.
Yet ink delights in spoiling emptiness,
like palm-oil staining white cloth.
That defiance—
to create and keep records,
to write poems for posterity—
perhaps, or perhaps not,
like smoke beneath a cover,
escaping what time cannot cage.
Sometimes poems sing into thin air,
with no eardrum to soothe.
Other times they endure the test of time,
speaking as soliloquy to the unborn,
through wisdom and well-chosen words—
like echoes billowing through valleys.
Few then recall the ink
that shaped such classics,
long dried and discarded,
like footprints blurred by rain.
It is the paper that blows the kisses,
absorbs the tears,
and wears the credits given.
So paper may delight,
while ink grows dispirited.
For obscurity never veils real visions—
a passing cloud misguides the senses
from knowing who holds true honour.
So paper may rejoice,
and ink fall into silence.
Yet vision does not drown in shadows—
like sunlight veiled by dust,
truth will still gleam through,
to honour ink that turns blankness to beauty.
How does it sound when Rimbaud rocks and Baudelaire has got the Blues?
When Verlaine vibes to the beat and Apollinaire to arpeggios?
Bistro Bohème tries to answer these questions!
We are a French poetry band, all living together in the same Berlin flatshare.
Please check us out on Spotify or YouTube :)
Love,
Bistro Bohème
Fresh leaves fall gently on the ground
without making a sound
Piano keys softly caress
warmed by sunlight gest
Brushing my senses on this delicate afternoon
she plays on, as time just croons
I notice she has pinned her hair up just so
a touch of mascara
a light scented oil of " Je ne sais quoi "
a touch of blush real or not ?
Refreshments are served Victorian style
alongside persimmon leaves
and tangerine kisses for me
Inside this great big elegant room
of beauty and romance,
I know she is hoping for at least,
...a dance.
I plan to discover more works of the great masters,
Like the rich green meadow find of bright red asters!
That is my New Year's resolution, a pledge to myself-
To enjoy and benefit from history's vast store of wealth;
And the glories of yesteryear lie waiting upon the shelf.
Was into the classics in my younger years
Some compositions actually brought me to tears
Mozart and Beethoven
Their magic was calming
Much preferred to today's music in my ears
Some melodies reach down and touch our soul
Like the classics, melodies flow like a tumbling waterfall
Moved by the magic
Of a love thematic
It surely transcends the sweetest emotions of all
We all once read the same great books in school
Shakespeare, Dickens, Samuel Clemens, Hemingway
Each one a classic, thought to be a jewel --
With plots and themes still relevant today
A widespread range of characters portrayed --
But now these treasures, written by white men
Are labelled racist and misogynist... Amen.
~ Iambic Pentameter
Bimbo sails a boat and bumps into Betty Boop,
she flaunts her flashy flesh landing on the fresh Isle,
hostile trees harass the two harbingers as they fear,
sickly savages come to scare them away in style.
Betty’s black and white films from the bopping thirties,
aroused critics during the ages of antique movies,
she came alive clearly in the sixties with colored cartoons,
showing off her skin so soft with big ol’ boobies.
An icon for the ages remembered for ancient humor,
shades and hues added to accent the animation,
entertainment industry included her in the top ten idols,
bippity boppity Betty Boop became a television sensation.
Imagination of creation with an addition of cinemation,
in the end of the film Bimbo and Betty were able to get away,
saved each other from the savages they finally sailed home,
each motion picture planted plenty of pleasure even until today.
* I had no idea what to do for this contest, but I thought I would give it a try! lol*
Colorize The Classics
Sponsor: Kim Rodrigues
October 23, 2016
A classic that I love is Gone With The Wind,
the sweeping historical epic,
full of romance and facts of history.
It tells the story of the southern belle, Scarlet,
daughter of a cotton plantation owner,
Oh, the tangled love affairs she had,
her secret lover Ashley and the dashing Rhett.
Breathtaking visually with striking images,
I think directors are like painters creating.
oh, lets go back to the movie now, the war rages.
But through war, destruction, poverty and death,
even the loss of her child,
Scarlet, from spoiled belle to strength,
inspired me so much, the girl in satin dresses,
in one scene in rags, she vows to God, her words.
"As God is my witness, I'll never be hungry again!"
She stands holding the earth of Tara,
in her hands and looks to the sky.
And in the very end- after Rhett rejects her
she says, "I'll think about that tomorrow . . ."
_______________________________
October 4, 2016
Poetry/Narrative/Colorize The Classics
Copyright Protected, ID 16-835-521-0
All Rights Reserved. Written under Pseudonym.
For the contest, Colorize The Classics,
sponsor, Kim Rodrigues
Third Place
Colorize The Classics
In 'Sound of Music', a time-honored film,
Maria, postulant from Abby near,
was hired, by a Captain widower,
as governess for seven children home.
The children then bereft and motherless
and governed by time-saving frenzied rules
which father, Georg von Trapp strictly enforced,
were placed into Maria's gentle hands;
Her service to the Lord made her a saint,
and with her gentleness, she shaped their lives.
Through love of music, led them with their songs
with joy for life that they had never known.
They fell in love with her, and soon her world
had opened up another way to serve.
In love and bonded with them and their dad,
she came to follow a new road in life.
As loving wife and mother, she gave self
upon another path of faithfulness.
She served the Lord and life, together with
the rescue of a family once lost.
Sandra M. Haight
~3rd Place~
Contest: Colorize The Classics
Sponsor: Kim Rodrigues
Judged: 10/25/2016
A Queen went all the way ahead
an fed with her vibe all around as med;
sorrowed, for the throne was yet to be kept,
for all were starving hunger and wept;
for what once was theirs now melt.
By war and thunder their sons kinder,
fathers wept many years they left,
for origin and root yet to be felt;
a queen must pay all her dept.
Duties were called; gov's uphold,
by queen all patches were fold
and once again the nation was cold,
Queen nation.
How diligent one can hold,
a queens throne how bold;
colorized classic that i'm told.
The old Victorian toys in good condition are terrifiC
And collecting rare stamps or cards is very colourfuL
When I saw these gems I knew I had a huge bonanzA
But please do be very careful when you attend auctionS
Some road shows you can find wonderful furniture antquieS
Are you under the spell for old Japanese motorbikes like SuzukI
Lots of comics and magazines can also bring a touch of pure magiC
Yes it can be real fun and rewarding looking at some rare motor carS
© Copyright K.C.Leake
24th November 2015
All Rights Reserved
Sub Categories
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