Poetry Corner

[anileve]

A wandering nameless man, perhaps an Indian covered a seed...

Word rapture
Emotions capture
Transmit neurons to the brain

There is a little environmentalist poet glancing through I see.

[Anonymouse]

A wandering nameless man, perhaps an Indian covered a seed with a little sand, and passed on regardless, on his journey to the dim past. He died and was forgotten, but the seed lay there still, and the mighty forces within it acting in the darkness. A tender seed stole gently up, and fed by the light and air and frequent dews, put forth its little leaves, and lived, because the elk or buffalo chanced not to place their foot upon and crush it. It was a miracle. The years marched onward like that of the ants in their daily work, and the seed became a sapling, and its green leaves went and came in spring and autumn, stood still winter and smiled in the summer. And years still came and passed away again, unceasing, the relentless tyranny of time. Columbus had the set its foot on the new world. And the sapling still grew, and the dews still fed its leaves, and the birds built their nests on its young limbs for generations. And the years rolled still, came and went, further passed. The Indian hunter slept while spying on the white man. Puritans sought a resting place across an ocean. A puritan family settled by the sapling. War of Independence came and Constitutional Convention held. And lo! The sapling had become a tree, and it grew still, thrusting its arms further, and lifting its head still higher toward the heavens, strong-rooted and defiant of the storms that rumbled and tumbled and roared through its branches, defiant of the wars that man launches. Europeans were settling the new world. Yet the great Oak stood still, domineering over the rest of the forest, vigorous, heedless of all the centuries that had hurried past since the wild Indian planted the little seed in the forest. A tree, standing tall and mighty, providing a lot of shade around the ground, and fit to furnish timbers for a ship, to carry the thunders of the guns of and Republics that were forming out of revolutions around the world. The tree lived, survived, shed its leaves and grew again. And sprung its leaves even further still. Yet skyscrapers were built, and cars rolled by, and the tree stood there immortal. And yet, if one had sat and watched it at every instant nanosecond, from the moment the tiny little seed pushed its way into the light, and until the eagles built among its branches, one would never have seen the tree or sapling grow.

[ardenik]

If Only...

I stay up until the hours of breaking dawn
Writing about who you are & how you look,
Now, my mind is numb, the vision’s gone
And my thoughts will probably never leave my book.

I wish with my life that I could tell you
What my heart is deafening me to say:
That you are not the same girl
That I had loved yesterday.

If only you knew what you mean to me,
If only you knew who you were.
If only you knew who I want you to be,
‘Cause to me, you’re another girl…

Maybe I haven’t much to offer,
But I’m not sure if I should care.
My pen won’t write anymore
‘Cause my mind won’t take me anywhere.
My piano sits in the corner
With its keys gathering dust
For I have made some wrong decisions,
When I chose LOVE over LUST…

-arden, 1999

[ardenik]

It's 5 am, I'm still awake.
I want to sleep, for goodness' sake!
But these lines are spinning through my head
While I'm laying here in bed.

My sight grows dim, it's getting late.
Unless she comes, forever I'll wait.
A heavenly noise, in the depths of my dreams,
My Angel says it's you...

I remember how I loved you,
But you're so far away.
And if I try to fly with my wings of lead,
I know what my Angel will say.

The guiding light, it blinds my eyes.
Genesis & fate, I scrutinize.
Clarity with truth, there will never be, it seems,
Since my Angel, I thought was you...


-arden, Feb. 2000

[anileve]

If I wasn’t
One day I will be
I cough up regret
The voice won’t let me forget
What I never will be

[Tres Bien]

Ardenik
Thank's for posting your lovely poems /writings. It was a pleasure to read!

[Emil]

Can we stick to just posting poetry? You guys are going off topic.

[ardenik]

Dying Cries

Lyric: Arden Arapyan

Music: Barouyr Labajian & Arden Arapyan

Dying Cries was written in March of 1997 with the intention of paying tribute to the 1.5 million Armenians who were tortured, raped, massacred, mutilated and ultimately killed in the hands of the Turkish Ottoman Empire during the Armenian Genocide of 1915. It is not so much an expression of rage against any present group of people, but rather a reminder of the unimaginable hardships that our ancestors have endured. We believe that Armenia is willing to forgive if Turkey ceases to forget…

There once was a lonely soldier
And he asked me if I knew
The places he had been
And the terror he had seen.
He said: “Come listen to my story:

“It was a long, long time ago,
The year was 1915.
I do remember, though,
I just wish I had seen the evil in his eyes.
I saw happiness and paradise,
But all he had for me were Dying Cries...

“The whole world was at war.
He said: ‘What are we fighting for?
My friend, can’t you see?
We’re like brothers you and me!
So, why don’t you walk with me?’

“He seemed so truthful then,
As if he really meant well.
So, I gave him all my men.
I can’t believe I couldn’t tell the evil in his eyes.
I saw happiness and paradise,
But all he led me to were Dying Cries...

“And now, I see it in his lying eyes.
He says: ‘You and your people will die!’
_________________

“Ever since, he’s denied his acts.
He doesn’t want the world to see.
But I, for one, have faced the facts,
What he did to me.
Only I know he’s full of lies.
He’s got open eyes and alibis,
But all he’s got for me are Dying Cries...

“He laughed in my face when I showed him my Dying Cries...”

[ardenik]

BTW: I do hope you will start glancing into the Intellectual Lounge forum.

for you, darling, i will

i actually wrote this just after i turned 16. i hadnt tried any drugs then & had no first hand experience as to what they do to u... i just let my imagination do it for me.

whatever i am about to post, i had written between the ages of 14 & 16. i used to write songs & poems back then.... i havent written anything since, in terms of lyrics or poems or whatnot... just a lot of music. so whatever u see me post in this thread was written in those days. some of it isnt great, but heck, what the hell does a 15 year old kid know about writing poetry? loll

[anileve]

Mortified, I pounced on the filthy creature and remorselessly clove its head from its niche with one sure tug. I proudly celebrated my achievement with a long-awaited meal. I rewarded myself with a piece of raw meat for the first time in a near eternity.

I cringed over this one. Ardenik jan, what possessed you to imagine something as grotesque as this? You have to stop munching on rubies.

After I had consumed every comestible ounce of the foul carcass, I allowed myself a brief moment of requiescence before I resumed elaboration on the burdensome stain of ink that had led me to my melancholic condition in the first place.

Simply brilliant! You have a touch of that magic realism that I love, and apparently you are quiet good. Very articulate, creative and surreal flow!

BTW: I do hope you will start glancing into the Intellectual Lounge forum.