Poet's Corner

[morgo]

Of A Woman's Love

There are those who speak of life and such,
And yet have never felt o’ great love’s touch.
They know not what they are speaking of,
For they have never known a woman’s love.

Of Distant Love

For all the things I have said and done I have been a fool. My words and deeds have not been but shadowed reflections of my heart’s desires. No longer shall I hide behind my uncertainty, no longer shall I sit alone. I shall never again falter in seeking what I need, what I require. It was not her lips that showed me the light, but their absence. For from her arms I knew not but happiness, and away, not but sorrow.

Of Hopeful Certainty

And when she spoke it was to fill, my heart with such sweetness I had never known,
With her words she set my mind a-fire, and at her touch, my soul is flown.
My eyes knew not but tearful joys, as she allayed away my fears,
In her presence there I would remain, sustained for many years.

[Angry Sandwich]

Somehow "very nice" just doesn't seem appropriate. But I gotta say something so I guess it will have to do.

Very nice.

[morgo]

;D

[morgo]

No Fear of Love

Oh woe to he who runs from love! Fear not! oh man, for you flee in vain! For never swift are the feet of men who seek to escape the clutches of love. No stead can carry you fast enough, nor ship sail you so far, for love is always the great hunter. Across boundless seas and infinite plains she will chase you, until at last, when you can run no more, she pounces. But it is not into death that you arrive, but into life! For it is only when we are in the maw of love, when we are so swallowed up and consumed entirely by her, that we truly live. No color is so vibrant, no food so exquisite, and no light so bright as when in the grip of love. Feel how her sweet breathe envelopes you, how her gentle touch caresses? Do not run from love, oh miser, but turn and leap straight into her arms, and you shall know only of the boundless joys in which she has to offer!

[morgo]

It was with great trepidation that we parted ways. We knew little of what it was that had transpired between us, less still the certainty in what would be to follow. Would we return to find our hearts entwined, our desires more fierce then ever before? Or would we, in our time apart, find that it was but an illusion of the mind, a simple dream that could never be? It is of these things which I think of now, alone amongst the greenery. I fear of what could come to be, but fear still more the thought of a world without it. Shall I witness the terrifying beauty of the fury of love? Or shall I suffer the pangs of regret alone, forever lost in the thoughts of what might have been?

[morgo]

Death by Love

Deaf and blind have I been made! Aimlessly I wander, though where to I cannot say. Whether my steps lead me to my doom or to my delight however I do not care! For it is not the lonely darkness, the foreboding wasteland of solitude which accompanies the loss of sight and sound, but the uncertainty of love! Love has left my eyes and ears, and has stolen instead my heart! I have been blinded by love, deafened by love, and yet I have never known such mirth, such gleeful content and ecstasy of which I now know! So take my heart, oh love, and let it be yours! For I can think of no sweeter demise, no more merry death, than death by love!

[morgo]

A Single Kiss

Standing ‘midst an unearthly dark,
Away from you a world apart.
Won’t you be that single spark,
To ‘luminate my lonesome heart?

My hand outstretched it is to you,
For ‘tis you, my dear, that I miss.
My hungry heart t’would be subdued,
If I had from you but a single kiss.

A single kiss is all I ask!
‘Twill tell me all I need to know.
For from that most simple task,
I’ll see if I set your heart a-glow.

If, as you do for me, I do for you,
You’d end in me an endless strife.
To you forever I would be true,
You’d be my world, my love, my life.

So please a kiss, my pretty dear!
Don’t play at game, don’t be a tease.
You have nothing from me to fear,
To give a kiss, to set my heart at ease.

[morgo]

CANTO 1

The song I sing is of a love,
As precious as Heaven above.
It is one of such great loss,
Of treachery, and the highest cost.

My tale is, the beginning hewn,
With two lovers, beneath the moon.
The night was dark, the clime not hot,
A just reward for a day hard fought.

It was upon the dampened grass,
At that hour of midnight mass,
Where the lovers lay, a’twist embraced,
Their faces close, their lips to taste.

The ground, so heated by their passion,
Resembled close in such a fashion,
To lands where brave men fought and bled,
Where victors cheered, the vanquished, dead.

This battle, though, was not with swords,
‘Tween armored men and angered lords,
But was fought instead with hearts and souls,
Across some pleasant rolling knolls.

Their bodies pressed, limbs intermingled,
Their love was fierce, hearts no longer single.
Their cries of love, freed to the night,
Found creatures’ ears, who fled in fright.

Then abruptly, and with commotion,
The end it came, like the tides of ocean.
And both collapsed in bliss joy,
His arms ‘round her, and hers, the boy.

Together they lay, both side by side,
‘Joying what evening gave, and day denied.
And there they sleep throughout the night,
‘Till the sun did rise, and with it, mornings plight.

For unlike all their eves before,
They were given no time to explore,
The pleasures and the ecstasies,
Of waking entangled about the knees.

The sun, as it traversed its path,
Was vengeful, angry, and full of wrath,
For what the night had given so,
Of the lovers’ unbridled throes.

Across the nearby hills did crest,
Many a men in shining vest.
They strode atop thick-necked steeds,
Returning from most evil deeds.

Their bounties from a church just sacked,
Were cruelly bound, and on horse were packed,
All manner of most holy art,
Much was sundered, much torn apart.

For in their mirth it had not mattered,
If their savagery had shattered,
A half a dozen priceless relics,
Which had proclaimed His holy edicts.

The ‘goods’ they would fetch prices high,
To give each man all he could buy,
To satiate his insatiable lust,
For drink and game and woman’s bust.

So on their merry way the went,
Far from the chaos they had rent,
And came across the lovers’ bower,
And over them the men did tower.

The lovers’ had said not a single word,
For such was their slumber, they never heard,
The tramping of the horses feet,
Or the laugher of the men they’d meet.

It was the silence of their approach,
Which stirred the pair, their resting broached,
The overcast of icy shadows
That woke the lovers’ in the hilly meadows.

From her lungs their arose a shriek,
As the strong fell upon the weak.
They cast aside the valiant boy,
Who fought with heart to save his joy.

But his struggles failed, he was outnumbered:
His enemies with swords encumbered.
They laid upon him much great pain,
And then rode away, his love, they’d gained.

Bound and gagged upon a horse,
Her eyes were filled with such remorse.
The tears they fell from as in a stream,
Carried off by that most loathsome team.

And what of the boy, I hear you ask,
After that most brutal task?
What could he do but sit and mope,
Being so fully out of hope?

He could not chase them, that he knew,
For it was on horseback that they flew.
They had stolen his only love,
His most precious, his snow-white dove.

It was anger then that he did feel,
And he swore, as he took a kneel,
That he would not pause or even rest,
‘Till he had these villains best.

He would seek out his dear mate,
And with it did resolve his fate,
To bring her back where she belonged,
Into his heart, before too long.

So it was on that fateful day,
That he to Him for strength did pray,
To have the courage to push forward,
His dearly loved his sole reward.

And perhaps to them be dead,
Her captors to the worms be fed.
He would end them for their deeds,
No matter of what they may plead.

He would travel over endless plains,
Under most torrential rains.
Over mountains and across seas,
To answer his dear lover’s pleas.

He’d let nothing in his way stand,
No man, nor beast, nor featured land,
To prevent him on his way,
Come Hell, high water, or whatever may.

And so with this he set on course,
To find for him a sturdy horse,
And to return back to his home,
For the supplies he’d need to roam.

He’d take back his most cherished muse,
Before those bastards could abuse,
A single hair upon her head -
And perhaps to have their blood be spread.

[Angry Sandwich]

Oh boy, when the writers bug bites you sure do scratch.

I like it. Had to read it in two sittings though

[morgo]

There's more, but I need a break.

[Angry Sandwich]

You should compile all yourself into a book. Even if you don't publish it or anything a hard copy is always good to have.

*mumble grumble* stupid forgot to back up stories *mumble*

[blackest_knight]

What would be cool is something like this: photoworks. Well, if you had pictures or artwork that complimented the poems

(The books look super nice - we made one for my dad's birthday and it looks amazing in real life!)

[blackest_knight]

Okay, I just read the long one and it was good....but it seemed to be rather repetitive near the end. (Like the last seven verses said almost the same thing - you probably could have told that part of the story in about three)

[morgo]

I don't think its repeatative. The middle verses are his 'oath' that he's giving, and its really difficult to compress all the lines into three versus, particuarly since they rhyme.

[morgo]

It is truly dreadful, knowing ones own loneliness. The simple joys of human affection are never fully appreciated, nor understood, while they lie before us. Only through the pains of their loss, through the presence of their void, do we realize how important they are. The warmth of another close body, the thrill of the lightest touch. None so truly magnificent are the pleasure of life compared to that most basic of human tenderness. For what is there beyond those gentle caresses, or hard-pressed embraces? What can compared to the infinite ecstasies of a lovers whispered word, or the endless bliss when two hearts collide?