Poetry archive 1

[Elven Doritos]

Yesterday I saw two flowers
A lily and a daffodil
Entwined and buried deep in loam,
Their blossoms pressed close together

Breathing softly and unfurling
Touched by the glint of morning light,
Dew drops slid from one to other,
The smell of spring crisp in the air

 Yesterday I saw two flowers
A lily and a daffodil
The Gardener pulled them apart
Their roots still pressed close together

[LordVreeg]

I like this one, But the last line isn't ringing.  Maybe switch 'though' for 'still'?  I don't know.  But I am paying attention.

[Elven Doritos]

Good catch on that. I was struggling with that line.

My turtle-faced agendas and my coated man-at-arms
Distorted through the pool of sweat beneath your summer charms
Alarms that ring most readily with headlight smoke and glare
The pair of prayer precision poised upon the morning dare
Like limericks written to a poet, dead beneath the earth
With hymns of praise and magnitude and lively joy and mirth
Those custom-seated quarantines that leave us bound as one
The leather straps of sanity that drain from Joy her fun
Poisoned, as the story goes, by love lost to the beast
Upon which all the memories of yesterday shall feast

That tinsel tongue of travelogues that slides across my spine
Your many-fingered wondrous wishes drawing swirling lines
The crumbling, rumbling catalyst that ruptures my physique
Your sliding smile furling, flashing moments of your teeth
My hands so cupped in reverence to idols made of flesh
Trickle down across your skin as I feel my will refresh
As globes of moisture postulate in transit to your hips
I touch my curling smoke-ring self against your waiting lips
Percussion, pounding in my ears, and telling me to wait:
Breath bereft, breasts beset as biding, both shall bate

[Elven Doritos]

The snow and soot are mingled
In a marble meld of passion
Sprinkled in crazy patterns
On the highway of remembrance
You smell a kiss in passing
And manage not to waiver
As a cymbal crashes loudly
Your hands begin to tremble
I hear your daylight rambling
And taste your smokestack languish
Like tears of tawny trappers
Your hands are holding flowers
I peel my weary bootstraps
From the bottom of my sadness
My feet are worn and ruined
And your eyes are filled with madness
Let's preach atop the mountain
To the lepers and the convicts
We'll sever all their spirits
From the coil of moral quandary
Your hands, now quaking proudly
Seize my harp and play it
You speak in tongues of fortune
And fasten strange behavior
I feel your fever climbing
You smoke my fears and anguish
A child is skating past us
Your seismic self is livid
I bleed ink upon this paper
You heal my open wounds
My hands are clasped in prayer
You steal them and remind me
That life, though short and hateful
Can ring like perfect church bells
And hope, though short and helpless
Can fill my life with murmurs
They whisper with affection
That we were meant forever
To be as one united
So that our unsure station
Expels the ancient demon
And as you stand in silence
In awe at my reflection
I feel you laughing, melting
Into the black horizon
The clouds begin to gather
I see upon the mountain
A storm of senseless wonder
With horns of graveyard robbers
That keep your life and rapture
Their angels are like hornets
Who buzz at open elm trees
They sway in utter horror
At what we said was needed
And lastly, as the clouds part
I fear our night has ended
You never once had known me
And couldn't guess the current
A strand of simple lies of night that burst into my heart.

[Elven Doritos]

I'm a copy/paste update to your status feed
You can press a button and tell me who I am
With a few keystrokes and a touch of thought
I become your Something or ex-Something
I can't remember which.

Digitized romance should be made freeware
But my cyborg tears exceed bandwidth
The server to your heart is not responding
And I, with point and click precision,
I can't recall your face.

I type "true love" into the search bar
Click the link that holds your name
And breathless, as I feel your pulse
The screen emerges and proclaims:
404 Error: Page not found

[Elven Doritos]

Your words are vines that grow across
The open mausoleum door
Your tongue, a snake that slithers, slides
Across the dusty desert floor
Your eyes are filled with smoke and ash
A penance, pain and perhaps more
Your wrath, the storm that breaks upon
My misbegotten ocean shore

[LD]

For mobile update... good :)

But I'm not really feeling this "But my cyborg tears exceed bandwidth" Cyborg tears... are you saying that the speaker is robotic. I don't think that's the image you want. You seem to want to say that the girl is detached by electronics; maybe the speaker is too... but I think you make him too human to permit a digital analogy.

[Elven Doritos]

For mobile update... good :)

But I'm not really feeling this "But my cyborg tears exceed bandwidth" Cyborg tears... are you saying that the speaker is robotic. I don't think that's the image you want. You seem to want to say that the girl is detached by electronics; maybe the speaker is too... but I think you make him too human to permit a digital analogy.

A cyborg is part human and part machine. He has become as immersed, even passive, to the statuses attributed to him via social networking, and he is salient of it; that being said, he retains none of his identity, and feels he is being programmed. I think cyborg tears, mixing human emotion with a dehumanized term, captures the conflict.

[Elven Doritos]

The light that peeks between the shades
That curtain morning's snore
Have settled on my floor in shapes
Diamonds, rings, and more

I place my hand across her back and
Gently touch her lips
There's something here that has been lost
She wakes without a kiss

She draws in circles on the bed
Her fingers trace a heart
I cannot explain what it is she means
So I sent my mind afar

A Christmas tree sits, out of season
In her sparkling gaze
I reflect upon her fearsome nature
Sprawled across my days

I know that she has buried her
Self within my grasp
We had not spoke of things we've done
We know not what passed

Like prisms, splitting strands of hair
And testing out her lies
I don the shirt she bought for me
And close my weary eyes

Her tongue, it traces simple stanzas
Written from my pen
I go to write her a sonnet, sweet
And walk into the den

Her sister stares from a photograph
Upon the fireplace
Suddenly, I feel a pang of woe
As she sizes up my face

We know not what our future is
As I temper lust with fear
My poems dry up and waste away
My muse just disappears

Her family threatens me with guns
She holds a silver knife
I never thought it might end like this
So tangled up in strife

As she starts in to dealing her cards
And lays them on the floor
I see my shadow quickly crawl away
Underneath the door

Madonna holds the newborn Christ
Close upon her breast
There was some anxiety in her face
That an artist could not guess

Her pencils, sight with boundless rage
A seismograph through art
Never would she admit the truth
And so I felt a spark

You looked at me like I was a fool
And he was standing by
Her hatred, silent, in a dream that passed
They held their heads up high

Our lives began to peel apart, she held
Her nascent pose
I knew you heard me and I feared
You offered her a rose

"Something's wrong," I said to her
And I offered her a grin
The demons clawed across my tongue
And latched onto her skin

I left her in the car to think
On Heartbreak Boulevard
As I took a taxi to the hotel
To look upon the stars

They twinkled ancient wisdom thought
By wise men to present
The beginning and the end of all
That past so heaven-sent

He said he met her in the moment
When she needed him most
I remember what you promised her
As I gazed upon her ghost

And as we looked at memory albums
Positioned, pointing true
My moral compass pointed opposite,
Straight away from you

[LD]

Hm. I don't really get the feeling that he himself realizes he's a "cyborg" from the piece; but perhaps I am just reading him as more sunny and human than you intended. Perhaps my objection is just that I really do not like the timbre of the word "cyborg" when it is set against the flow of the other words. The connotation of the word does not seem to be apposite. Still, other people's views will probably differ. I find that my point of view is often unique.

[Elven Doritos]

I sit in silence, 'twixt the vellum sheets of wisdom, streaks of felons
Sparked by surly certainty and set upon the moonlit door
Beauty glides across the chamber,
Laughing, twinkling, tasting danger,
Savored and entrancing in the brackish, baying ocean shore
Left alone to their devices, settled, sinning in their vices,
Her love, a dagger resting in my bedroom drawer

I tasted wisdom from a chalice that held my wounded merry malice,
A triumph held in irony and sent upon the dreamer's snore
Her glimmer breathes my discontent,
A psalm and lyre heaven-sent,
Sunken like the treasures of the pirates from the tales of yore
Lilies grow in groves of graves and in the homes of kings and knaves,
Their shadows cling and shun me as they dream, deplore

My lover and her silhouette are cast into a role to fret
Unto the playwright's waiting pen that the king does yet ignore
Poison pointing, pistols pouring,
Teeth and bullets still are soaring,
As the revolution sets a frenzied flame to fallow fields and more
The grass of peasants burns unpleasant, killing both the lark and pheasant,
For they were born of peace and are now dead of war

[Elven Doritos]

Crows steal crumbs from the beggar's doorstep
Sorrow peeks through his fingerless gloves
His makeshift jacket yearns for one more breath
And his hands are reaching forth to grasp his love
He can't recall from where he ventured
The night he set upon this path
A rosary shifts between his dirty fingers
As he feels the cold embrace his bones at last

A gun twirled fast in the dim grey moonlight
As prison bars sealed away the lone soldier
A renegade by trade and the son of the sheriff
He fastens twice his gleaming brass shoulder
The sun splashes light onto the horizon
Has it just set or is this the dawn?
As dust begins to whip in all directions
The soldier waits for his death to come

Blood wets the spurs on the boots of the raider
Whose face is like a chimney of ash
His hand is twitching, curled by the gold traitor
He seeks to reclaim his fortune of past
The heartbeat of the sheriff roars out a warning
As bullet holes replace the comfort of glass
The raider knows this is his last morning
But he has come this far and cannot ever look back!

[Elven Doritos]

While riding through my forests of youth
I had ne'er a worry nor care
Then all that changed and I learned the truth
As I found a troubled affair
My father, born a smith, forged his heart
Earning his daily bread share
My mother, dead from my very birth,
Had left him in great despair
His love was mended by a new wife
Her spirit could never declare
That I, reminder of his past life,
Would ne'er escape his cold stare

[Elven Doritos]

I know a princess with a crown
Who sits inside her icy tower
She keeps her lips pressed to the glass
Of her frosted window pane
I yearn to hold her in my arms
Her tundra dreams twinkle true
I light my coals and hide myself
Within the dusty notebook page

Ink, my blood, my life, my love
My world is dizzy, blurred, and warm
I seek, I seep with solemn psalms,
I sleep with peaceful, prayerful palms
My feelings dreamed are confessed then
Lit by truth, the distance dies
My beacon, burning, glowing bright
I pray she sees my sacrifice

I know a princess with a frown
Who sits inside her icy tower
She keeps her heart inside a chest
Wooden, lost, and widowed pain
I learned to hold her in my thoughts
Her tundra dreams fading, blue
I stoke the coals and burn my book
For I would give her all I had

If only I could warm her

[Elven Doritos]

Symptoms:
-Restlessness
-Lack of self-control
-Loss of attention
-Chronic headaches
-Blurred vision
-Brief amnesia
-Nervousness
-Mild depression
-Irritability
-Recurring hunger
-Drowsiness

Treatment:
-Stimulate nervous system (preferably with caffeine)
-Write for prolonged periods
-Do not mix with alcohol
-Consult a doctorate student if symptoms continue