Wednesday, March 16, 2011

First Two Poems...

I am entering this contest... it involves my poetry. But I have to pick and chose from all my wonderful streams of concious... so help me pick please? (More coming, just rate these three-- first, second, third!) Some of these are old, some new, some shared, some making their debut. If you want to know the story behind, ask and I might tell you.


Serenity



Serenity
A smooth pond
Fed by quiet fount.
Pretty lilies stand by just so,
As a light breeze sends
Daisy-clouds skittering across
The pale blue sky which
Turns slowly dark as
Swifter swirls of cumulonimbus gather
And urge on the whipping wind which
Pulls and yanks the frail flowers
Standing by the roiling waves of the fount
The pond swift becoming a cauldron of
Rage




How to…


Wait ‘till the day is mysty magical
And stars glint in the solstice light
Walk alone in the dark dancing woods
Amble through the open prairie
When you see the ring
Halt!
Time moves strangely here.


Take a step
Toe carefully into the ring
Take care not to muss the grass
Trip a stone or crush a
Toadstool.
They did dance here
Some seconds ago
Turn slowly—windershins of course
Seconds stop and hours race along.


Some one—thing—will take your hand
Step with it, into Their land.


The wind will catch in your hair
And the stars shine brighter here—
This underground world.
A hall will dazzle your senses.
Look—and see all your eyes can taste
Hear the music that haunts and frenzies
Lilting waterfalls, pipes, drums, storms, and spring
Don’t Dance!
Time twists strangely here.


They will dazzle you with
Their brilliant smiles and
The way They move through air,
The beat pulling Them along.
See those like me and like you
Who caught the rhythm, to never be free
Blink!
Time stops for no mouse.


Do not touch the drink
Sparkling ambrosia that Midas could not scorn.
Do not! taste the fare
Sweet tarts and dainty bits will hold you
Stronger than iron.


But what wonders that hold underground
Shubert and Mozart collaborate in a corner while
Buddy Holly strums with Elvis.
Selena sings the east while
Behind poets declaim and
Star-bound Van Gogh paints
Those take by the Muse.
Remember the world from whence you come
Of love and warmth, war and fire,
Remind yourself of trees and streams and home
Of a mother’s lullaby, sweet and tame
Recall what Time is…
Close your eyes again.
Turn against the windershins.

And step.


When you return to the world, they will have been looking
A day
A month
A year


They thought you lost.
Taken
Not gone of your own accord.
You will not correct them
Nor remember all your self.
Time moves differently here.
It will be forgotten
In a year
A month
A day.


No one will understand.
But you.
And me.
And those other in between.
That there is a gleam in the velvet night
And a sparkling darkness within the dew
That there is a place where Time bends to
Another force—a wilder dance.


You know
And I know
And others in between
Of a place of danger, peril, and desire
And a time that moves strangely here.

Poems Set Two

Ratings and how these compare to the poems above please?


Happiness from Monday
The sun pulls warm fingers through my hair and my smile comes quick as the light
You're here too, tangled in my thoughts.
Bliss.


Charybdis



Pulling and spinning and dragging me down
--The Sirens’ call at my back—
Dunking, grasping, hoping to drown;
Only ice will survive.


Every spark extinquished
Every flame spent
The white hot rage smothered
By cold salt water
Leaving only Ice.


A twisting vortex of emotion
Anger, betrayal, rage, infatuation, and pain beyond your kin.
No smile remains tucked in that corner
Not even for you


Pick her.
I can freeze.
Or drown trying.


Perilous


Tip-toeing across this perilous precipice,


Dancing in the farmer's meadow at midnight.
Quick step across the moor and hit every rock right,
Step on the stone just so,
Or sink.
Get caught.
Fall down down down.


Each step one second closer
To the wild wild wind
Whirling and whipping and drawing me in
Each shift a step closer to the dangerous waves that call...


The color of your eyes, those waves;
The dangerous pull you wield, the wind;
The fire that dances and entrances and bites--
Mine own heart,
Bitter betrayer it is.
We two are too too alike--
Longing for the quiet-- and the stars!-- of the deep Texas prairie.
Hopelessly romantic and hopelessly devoted to that one who ne'er turns 'round.
Please turn around.


Temper pulsing, a swift blaze, you flare for the slightest breeze
My father's daughter, I can stand your singe.
Though I may perhaps burn myself.


But your world spins for you,
Only. King of your universe--
Arrogant and proud,
Exclusive and cocky,
Lost and lonely,
Don't really know at all.


But let me dance and draw you out of your world!
Come see the enchantment of this very land.
Rest with me here--
forget those cares that belong to God anyways.
I can remind you of why you matter,
Why you are perfect just as you are
I think so.


Even without those eyes.
Those bright blue eyes,
entrancing--
Mine own tricks turned against me.
Mine own heart turned traitor from sense.
Just because it beats in time with you. .

Poems Set Three

Thoughts on this last set would be much appreciated and rewarded with actual, amazing cookies.... for real!


Tuning
I offered you:

The moon and stars
The wide prairie and dancing with the dawn
Peace
Calm
Enchantment


She held out:
Bright city lights
Dancing and going always on the move
The world through an amber glass
Excitement


But who can see the moon and stars for the city lights?
I tried to stay visible
To be there where you would want me
I agonized and poetized
And sung outside your window
Certain you were the hero of my fairy story,
Convinced we sing the same song.


We still might.
In different tunes.
But you aren't worth tuning for.


An Ode Upon Imagination
(this one is a link to the poem, previously posted)





Sunday, March 6, 2011

The Space Trilogy



These books completely changed how I think. Lewis took phenomenal concepts about the Fall of man, redemption, and even higher powers (we call them angels and demons, they are here known as eldila) and wove them in to a fantastic science fiction. 


The writing is a bit hard to stick with, the style found in Narnia a little more grown-up and long explanations. But the story is fantastic. Traveling from Earth (Thulcandra), a linguistic's professor, Ransom, is thrust into the world of Mars (Malacandra) where frightening giant otter-beaver-creatures roam as do classic, skinny and scary aliens. He learns much about their world, civilization, and our world there. 


In the second book, Ransom again finds himself in space, traveling to Perelandra (Venus), a planet new born facing sin for the first time. In the final book, Ransom bands together with other believers to attempt to save our own Earth from an institutionalized threat. 


Lewis deftly weaves together Christianity, Greek mythology, and Logres (Camelot) in this series. Elements of Narnia show up and Lewis' famously well-thought out doctrine colors the tale while his vivid imagination takes it beyond anything in this world.


Life on Thulcandra will never be the same.