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Old 08-29-2007, 06:04 AM   #1 (permalink)
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Location: Florida
Shadowe's big box of emo

I don't have any of my really old stuff right now so I'll just go in chronological order from a year or two ago when I picked up the quill again.


Cry of the dove

Through tears of silence love informs
Warming cold and wetting blood
By my sister's heart mine reformed
And as the nile brought life's flood

This was the first thing I'd written for about 3 or 4 years other than the occasional half-assed attempt at what passes for a haiku in america. She's not really my sister but I certainly love her as though she was, and I wanted to say so in a way a little more meaningful than the Lego of poetry.


, the sequel to .

blinded by a beauty never meant for me
whose smile shined beyond a poets rhyme
and flew far above what words describe

By the light of your stars I read at night
endless pages of dream upon dream
only to wake to the nightmare with light

Some people fondly remember their high school days, hanging out with friends, girlfriends, etc. Others consider it that hellish 8 hours inbetween decent food, videogames, and sleeping. And then they get a crush on someone. For anybody still in highschool reading this: "Would you like to go see a movie sometime" does not actually work. On the bright side I still have 2 free movie tickets and am a couple hundred dollars richer for not going to prom.


Wolfe Cry

Tears of love, Tears of pain
a weeping dove sings as the rain
Darkness bled from heart's pain
A loss so great that stars can't light
a void through which hell takes flight
before which even the mourning star may cry


I actually wrote this one for someone else who was hurting at the time. Out of respect for her I'm not saying anything else. Except that my OCD really wanted all those lines to be the same length.


Unexchangeable Currency

I looked into the mirror of another man last night
But blinded by my hate reflected burning me within
I couldn't see the breath of God that gave us the same life
All I saw was money made and the color of his skin

I divorced my life with a creed of greed and apathy
Designer clothes and gourmet food and every worldly thing
I could by myself buy anyone or anything I could see
Thought that money was the only family I would ever need

But death does not take visa, he doesn't accept cash
Though my money can buy me a body strong as stone
He doesn't care for bonds or if the stock market crashes
It cannot save the soul which has withered all alone

One of the few good things about my AP english class was that my teacher often gave people a choice between an essay, some absurdly complicated project, or an original poem of a minimum length. I got out of a lot of boring essays that year. Around this time I was starting to actually pick up on a lot of thingsi that I'd missed in previous years, I like to think my writing started stopped utterly sucking about here.

(post being split in two for length reasons)
(nevermind, automerge took care of that.)

The Sentinel

On a quiet street of cobblestone
where the lightning God once made his throne
There is place where I can stand alone
And watch the hell of life unfold

From ages past through Eons untold
I stand the sentinel of a darkened fold
My back to the world I will never know
My sword to the void which ever grows

The wanderer of ages with diamond eyes
And gossamer wings to thin ever to fly
Not quite an angel or the one that fell
Ever alone in my private hell

Of course I was still undeniably emo. All I needed was a clip on fringe and I would have fit perfectly. If you live in florida or some other ungodly hot place they give you an exemption for the plastic pants and black trenchcoats. Chafing is bad. Very. Very. Bad.


Iris Prayer

Star light star bright
first star within my sight
I wish that I may die tonight
for without love I cannot fly


Short, but it was just what I signed in the yearbooks. The year before it was a corrupted bible passage I'd twisted to my own ends, and before that it was the answer to one of those "If you were a kitchen appliance" questions. Broken knife sharpener: small, loud, dangerous.


Angels and Iron (WIP)

Down came the angels, dressed all in gray
Seeking the lightning prophet that man has made
See now was the time, the minute, the day
When then becomes now and time will be flayed
The skies will darken as heaven's gates fall
Its time now you see; hell's come for us all
And down in that darkness with death all around
A light will be shining when the Man comes around
Yeah, once heaven is up and all hell surrounds
That light will be shining when the man comes around
it shines from beneath, through souls sick and dying
From the eyes of that terror it's dark gleam so blinding
And his Obsidian jackboots below a smile of bone
Echo on through bloodied streets of cobblestone
To where the neon god has made his throne
His eyes shining white and his wings torn asunder
He stands with facing future with his back to us all
And meets swords with the spark whose hate caused the fall

He fights for the light and the dark and the pain
And speaks the world in a voice made of rain...


And this is my current project. I started this around the same time as the first one above and I've been working on it since. I finally quit pretending to be just revising it and started adding more stuff in shamelessy. Epic Poem doesn't fit but I'm going to try and make a semi-fictional retelling of my life as I saw it. Every so often I get hit with what goes in there next and the thing balloons in size, then I trim the crap off and it shrinks down a bit again. Three steps forward and two backwards is still one step of progress though.
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Last edited by Shadowex3; 08-29-2007 at 06:13 AM.. Reason: Automerged Doublepost
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