[x]

Their lives were built on lies
their bliss just a facade
for twenty years plus five
they'd vowed before their God
to live and love and laugh
and build forevermore
they hired a household staff
had friends and wealth galore
but life behind the scenes
was filled with booze and sex
he said "it's in the genes"
she said "it's just complex"
the children shook their heads
now grown and on their own
from the time they were kids
ashamed of what was sown

To deconstruct a vow
is treachery indeed
if they had known what they know now
might it have changed their wicked deeds?

The Scarlet of ValorWere we brought forth to be monsters,
Instruments made for channeling deceit?
Where rancor’s lies and hatred feed us,
And another’s misery is our peace?

Just whose shoulders do we stand for?
On this clever grueling affair?
Or do we go and purge on blindly,
Like fish swimming in air?

If its strength we wish to have proven,
Then far too long it has been done.
Done with ways much too impeccable,
Pushing humanity into the slum.

But a commodity without fulfillment,
Will take those without a price.
What we protect goes on to crumble,
But we’re all deaf to our own cries.

Thus from a pain was borne much more,
Like a rained on se

Shut inDon’t mock me, or block me
from taking my stance;
A pity, the city
is caught in a trance.

If only the lonely--
the rich and the poor,
Admit it, we did it!
By shutting our door.

I’d doubt it, without it,
We’d crumble in ruin;
Still, steady, already
forgot what we’re doin’,

We chide the society
for shutting us in--
When really, the “silly”
was us to begin.

No longer warmMy eyes are warm
My heart is cold
You never know
Your grin grows old

You laugh at me
I’m always wrong
Your great friendship
Didn’t last long

I’m your friend
But you’re not mine
My hug is cold
You’ve crossed the line

I no longer want
To be your friend
Face it now
This has to end

How to Know You're Living Rightif today was your last day,
and tomorrow was too late...

if the devil came and knocked on my door,
said, "You'll be given scant hours more."
I'd pack no bags, just jot a note:
"It's been fun, more than I'd hoped,"
and let it flutter to the floor.

if plans you make for your last day,
things you'd want to try and play;
if special times you wish you would,
you're not living as you should...
it doesn't matter anyway.

when the devil comes and knocks on my head,
"This day is your last," he said;
"Keep the change, let's move on out:
last day's ain't what life's about."
I'll race him to his vessel instead.

could you say goodbye to yesterday?

this world will offer...this world will offer a tie for my trust
but no government can raise life from the dust

so i got to remember the truth that resides
when ile follow my heart instead of the lies

that everyones spewd whether like it or not
who knows wut is best in a place that will rot?

so just smile and think 'wut a fool is that guy'
hes not going to college he'll be shoed as a fly

and tho i may not be on record or known
we'll all be remembered for wut we have sown

not wut we have reaped or wut we may claim
achievements or 'honors' as fame is a game

and 'trusty' employers will say they know why
and demanding u orders to follow, or 'bye'

but i got to ask

Something To Believe In...My heart, a field of wildflowers,
Your love can make them bloom.
Fill my head with diamond showers,
And thoughts of golden noons.
Rays of whimsy find your smile,
They dance across your face.
Electric light behind your eyes,
White heat in your embrace.
Smolders linger where you touch,
Refusing to consume.
Tantalizingly preventing
Pleasures known too soon.
Amber soulfire flickers densely
Inside our misted shade.
While heavenly once was our intention,
To desires we abade.
A penny for your thoughts, my dear
Or maybe two, or three,
Surely all the riches I hold
For what you think of me...

An Elegy to the ObjectRest your grey swans, your winter is over;
Their songs delight the fruitless heath.
Alas! The country wizened drover
Grants his good wife your dying wreath.

And all things bear my homespun sheath
In which you sleep as you depart,
And all I have I did bequeath
To you: the object of my art.

Yet, still your rotting soul does impart
A whisper through the bolted casements in me,
And I for one, must have a cold, cold heart
To beleive you lived for my elegy.

ShadeThe bird spreads its wings
Without hesitation
Without reserve it sings

Towards the sun it soars
Casting its own silhouette
So grand and to my eyes it roars

I am only a shadow in the shade
Here I exist and blend so perfectly into the world
Wonders of the man-made

Artificial hearts that save lives
Or do they only prolong suffering
Fear of death like dull knives

So I step into the light
And in the blinding moment
I finally regain my sight

Depression's DuelA girl alone, cold and wallowing in the fragments of her soul.
Two beings, Life and Death are locked in mortal combat.
Death strikes first with a furious vengeance.

Death

In her life there is so much strife
Over such trivial matters that mortals fight over
Money, power, looks and lovers
No one cares to give her a fair chance
In death there is a release
Eternal slumber and peace
The world is cruel, just like the gruel she forces herself to eat in defeat

Life

Yes, in your life there are quarrels
and people choose possessions over you.
But remember your little sister who looks up to you.
Your mother who held you through your child hood.
The

CagedLike a lion behind the bars of a cage
My longing for more fills my heart with rage
This rage build and later I realize
Their is nothing I can do to make it subside
My heart wishes for something more
But my spirits trapped behind a cell door
I don't know who has the key
To open these walls and set me free

My eyes miss the wild
The thrill of the hunt
The wonder of a child
My mind being absent
All the while I sit and I stay
Moments fly by as life slips away

What more can I do to feel that freedom again
What more can I say when I don't understand
Where is it that I am meant to be?
Because I know this caged beast is no longer me

Chasing hidden light

Water rolls off of pristine petals
Far beyond the beauty of moist metals

The organic life fighting for the outside
Wanting a life the cage seems to hide

Customary blooms of a sacred nature
Alloy of a colder nomenclature

But beauty always finds a way
No matter the sunlight given through the day

To brake the bonds of a confined space
A battle so many in life have faced

Yet like a broke heart that only wants to decay
The side of the fence has a better light….and I want her to stay.

Awake in my ExistenceLive through others in your proxy
You challenge existence without noises
The only thing you cannot fathom
Is the wakening of your boredom

Awake a life full of illusions
Crave for another lost sweet union
On a realm of cruel destruction
You whisper words of guilt and nonreaction

The frame of death float on your life
Not another hope for the lost souls
Desire, joy in your cortex will subscribe
Stand up choices who belong mentally yours.

what will come tomorrowA darkness is stirring
Inside of me
I struggle from it
But I cant break free
Horrors are abundantly
I lose all I ever held dear
Fading from this world that grows
As my mind wanders with shadows
Peace is something foreign to me
A life of hardships is what I lead
I never seem to be enough
Who thought love would be so tough

Broken mirrors and picture frames
Somehow it is all I blame
I know that something more is left
Other than a quiet death
A surrender, A return to sender
I've been on a bender
And I cant seem to stop these tears
From ringing every fear I have
Bringing it to light and then
Making them my only friend
Braking what little I love

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A Small HouseAnd each moment is a
new stone on the beach
of eternity,
and beneath those stones an
expanse of answers
that have questions unmatched
and constant.

And on the beach I have
my home to build,
and of those stones my
foundation to lay.

GaitAt what age do we
acquire our walk,
as distinct as our smiles?
Is it learned?
Is it gained?

Perhaps we being walking
perfect walks, but as the
ebb and flow of years rage
on our terra cota legs we
lose something, and our
walk is then defined.

It is a price I will pay
a thousandfold; my
love, she knows me by
my foot falls.

Winter PreludeTomorrow is November and the dim
leaves bid last goodbyes to their
spindle-houses.

Perhaps when mid-night comes, with all
his chill and fervor, the first cries
of foreboding frosts will tame
the errant leaves, and comfort them
beneath luminous quilts.

Lantern"Poor moth, I cannot hel you
I can noly turn out the light."
-Kracinsky

Wars be damned
and thos e protest
them with misguided fury
( their hatred is aimed
as poorly as a soldier
froze in terror)

To protest was is to
stand before the breakers
of a barren shore,
no arm can tame its
wrath, the body that
holds it is consumed
by it, and to that tide
turned.

War is not artillery and
troops, war is the unrelenting
shade over those who declare it.

Peace is not the absence
of war,
peace is today, peace
is opportunity,
peace is obtainable.
A world without war is not.

Stoop to level with your
fallen breather

Fever-Dream UntoldSome visions take refuge
on the precipice of my
tongue,
prepared to jump into the
arms of nimbus heralds
but
lacking resolve, and
forever awaiting that phantom;
courage.

A Son's DreamThat I had true
use for an amulet,
other than theatre
wear for my dullard
dressing would bring
a thousand prasies to
my lips.

For who needs a protectorate
of mystic corroboration
if there is no adversary
of equal proport?

When venomous spells
be thrown against me
for deeds done in darkness
with righteous desire
I could clutch my pendant
and ward all malevolence.

But I am a man now,
and no men I know have
evil wizards of contention.

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Yellow Sonnet

by ~Skriver, Apr 4, 2005, 8:25:39 PM
Literature / Poetry / Human Nature / Traditional Fixed Forms

Bright beams the Lily on the sun-glazed mount,
shining as a beacon to the long lost.
For long & grueling years of endless count,
through golden plains & valley's deep in frost
has he, in brimming expectation, sought
that blessed fruit of life & dreams whose rays
compact in splendor & deep in heaven wrought
brings clarity and peace to dreary days.
More than dreary have his gilded hours seemed,
and one morsel would ressurect each small,
glorious  second to eternal streams
of Frey's tears that dance in strong halls.
     His posture falls, for that was not his prize
     But a flower, tender in his tired eyes.

Yellow Sonnetby ~Skriver

Literature / Poetry / Human Nature / Traditional Fixed Forms

This is the first in a series of sonnets that I'm writing, telling the story of some lad gone from his home and such nonesense blah blah.

I'm writing them more to stretch my chops as a writer than to write great poems.

Anyhow, let me know what you think.

~flawed-helix Apr 11, 2005

WOW. Sonebody finally abided by the proper way to write a sonnet. I'm shocked, but pleased. Now, I forget which is which, is this Petrarchan or Elizabethan?

~Skriver Apr 11, 2005 Writer

Tecnically it's petrarchan, because it's only couplets, but I wanted a sestet at the end... so yeah, Elizabethan.

I hope you like it!

I replied to your last comment, but I guess it didn't go through, thanks for the last one.

~flawed-helix Apr 11, 2005

Not a problem. I do like your work, it's wonderul. You use brilliant imagery.

~Skriver Apr 11, 2005 Writer

Thanks again!

~Guth1 Apr 4, 2005

theres some nice images in there awesome work

~Skriver Apr 4, 2005 Writer

Thanks buddy :0

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Yellow Sonnet

Yellow Sonnetby ~Skriver

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