POEM

M

mattstrackbein

Temporal Novice
OK so I started a poetry club in high school (let the ridicule begin) and so now I write amateurish poetry (let the ridicule continue).

But while you ridicule please consider this challenge! Anyone who wishes to reply to this poem must do so with a poem of their own. No I don't expect and influx of time travel poetry, although it would be cool. Look I'm going first so...icebreaker.

Time Traveler By Matt Strackbein

Time is the world, ‘O Traveler
And the world
Is not so great
That we will not meet again

There is movement
In moments of stillness
As there is quiet
In the constant noise of everything

What can be done
Can be undone
Your meaning is such as this
Breath or do not
Fear or fear not
For you are in motion, ‘O Traveler
And motion is in you
 
Honor

how hard is it to take your body from your

soul? it is impossible...if it won't let go.

the body and the brain they just can't get

along...until that time to change...stay

the same.
 
The Stain Of Stress

out of the darkness and into the light.

one last fight.

last chance to be right.

flying with great speed, transparent clouds rushing with greed.

out of the darkness and into the light.

your cold stare has put me in the night.

a soldier in the night.

clueless as how to fight the night.

yet he knows he's right.

in a single rush, resolution.

in the simple mind, constitution.

in the simple heart, devotion.

something here is not right.

then the anger starts to quell...

out of the darkness and into the light.

one last fight.

one last chance to balance the right.

out of the darkness and into the light.

a person was just born.
 
Hero

stained from the past, seperated from the future.

his head held high, his heart held low.

feet on the ground, heart in the sky.

remembrance of pain... i will never forget.

honor screams through, and pride like a bomb.

a hero is born.

flying high, unwilling to die.

self sacrifice for wisdom, disheartening for honor.

triumph till the end.
 
Quoted:
A Time Travel
by Debashish Haar
Sunday, April 02, 2006
Rated "G" by the Author.

An hour for time travel:
Vermeer accepts
Bernard Shaw’s invitation,
schools of arts and linguistics meet.
Dali and Escher host
Columbus for a drink, a whole world’s
rediscovered, after centuries, in a bed.

At 5.30 am, he wakes in the sheet
that had rivers and streams.
The streams flow upstairs
into the terrace, and he swims.

He’s the only creator,
sipping the solar system in a cup.

The wind frees the sheets of dream
and collapses like powder in grass.
Pictures fade like rainbows
and splash their colors.

Copyright©2006, Debashish Haar

end quoted from:
http://www.authorsden.com/visit/viewPoetry.asp?id=156995&AuthorID=31292 :D
 
Given of Lent Strength


The future revibrates to a gentler time and space
and so told
hands cupped in holding their own sacred place
feeling more bold
Never vowed without meaning drawn upon a face

Winds that call out and shed the warmth of light
forgetting but naught
trees would bend under their own majestic might
searching for sought
The sky leaves a trail as the sun races to night

A vortex of energy swirled and danced so through
could another demand
taxing the mind with everything it had once knew
for lending a hand
No matter where we went it was there I and you

Trials of the tribulation for each man's kindred soul
this was everything
the years running oft' forward can take such a toll
heavens gates sing
Honor of faith unforsaken silently struck to a goal

Always a very long word in and of itself made pure
Only for but true
with guided sight even in the coldest of lonely sure
this is what they knew
when stained beneath the changed rains for a cure

The past vibrates to a clock cycle driven with speed
Shimmering with gain
hands etched with the providence of what they need
void of percieved pain
With an emboldened heart for the kinder of a deed

Strings of the marionette slacken under our free will
So we can but ask
God given grace out just beyond a painted window sill
greater given to task
Taking the granted cup that overflows continuing to fill

In the house of men where Angels walk the halls
footfalls clad of thunder
Even in the worst it is a comfort to the heart that falls
repairing hearts ripped asunder
Reaching to friends holding the promise if it calls

Smiling in the storms of ages born to fade away
for they are life
sometimes all we can do is hold on to another day
born given to strife
being careful of effect and catalyst of what we say

The gauntlet is passed without to voicing a sound
the honor is on high
bearing with strength proud to the path we are bound
shifting not to sigh
Faces of stone still holding to what cannot be found

Time is a gift and as well it is surely a due owed
dispute not to be disputed
for we are only reapers to of what we have sowed
for we are now reputed
Intent lends not for we have chosen to have showed

The realization of where we've been and where we go
the glass looks back
is the moment lost of innocence for then we surely know
fearing for what we lack
Planting the seeds of faith to finally take root and grow

For none can attest to perfection without surely a flaw
Humble into itself
Dancing in the shadows where we should not have saw
appreciating true wealth
When the curtains fade we bow to a higher held law

The good of many can lend to the heart of just one
for the sake of a second
Remembering back to the rays of this dawning sun
unerring to the reckoned
Until we've truly helped another our days are not done
 
Midnight approaches Dawn



Spin the fable around to the masses
turn the table for gentleman to lasses
An age approaches here held in time
within marrow of the bone so sublime

Darkness gave way to light moving then
hither a tale only to remember there when
Drink from the cup filling to pass it along
hiding ears perhaps too afraid of the song
This verse has extended only two too long
for the last must rythme to not be wrong

Back to the four we knew would come out
turn the cheek even for when only to shout
Burn the past in a flaming pen held with care
focus those eyes my friend only to stare
Four gave way to five and now it's changed

Dance in a line by the string that gave choice
find your words before the circle takes a voice
Side by side somehow in three under the 'forth
forward motion moving the only way of course

How could one ever find the division to two
I'll ask while it was only you whom ever knew
Strike a chord while memories red became
black & blue under white skies the shame
Whispered the voice to come play my game

Just before six for five rolled the cheery dice
around a clock's toll given three blinded mice
Can we give a hand to help stranded out land
In this shore washed upon there stood demand

Seven laughed all the while in his usual style
tugging at the heart with pliers of silver and gold
He was the one multiplied that heaven foretold
riding storms of a ship emanating heat from cold
Whispering eight would not be added tonight
sleep little one for senses gauged too tight

Nine, ah feel the tingle upon an ancient spine
spirled towers towards a racing vector so fine
Grimacing smiled by in a dimension so unknown
hands outstretched caressing an intricate throne

Wings of the ten spread and took flight then
golden upon rememberance of a sacred den
Majesty of might for the splendor of all night
breaking the space in utter brillance graven
An energy unrelenting for the proud fight

The tears of eleven as they could only gaze
the crystals of the fallen creating a dreary haze
Following the path of a heart built within a maze
three begat midnight for the final hour built
all awash in purest snow and unholy silt

The cogs and the chimes swaying back now
 
Prologue

As the Sun spun, casting it's brillant rays,
from the earliest days to the here and now;
those that could see it's proclamation and
those that could only feel it's heat somehow.
From a creature with eyes blinded to the skies,
to the flower of the early morning dew;
receiving all of it's benefits just as I and you.
Macro to the micro, relative as a tool to the few.

Tieing the benefits of understanding
laden in a riddle for meaning.
Take away the sun,
it's precept and notions of building blocks.
Find space, void of all matter but thought.
Stare then intently and let's see what we've got.

A thought, a train, a line stopping to continue.
Unraveling within interval as everything should.
Potential of predict never had to formulate,
the pattern emerges not too soon, not too late.

Curvature or a jagged edge should decide the key.
How far we focus or the sights we shall indeed see.
Caring to conjecture something observed left for another.
The thought reconstructed without relaying foundation.
Yet we all seemingly stumble upon creation.
Disposable societies painfully arc their backs
upon realization.
Emotion to the logical how absurd.

Moving in time, seeking chaos from order perceived.
while holding onto the notion of unordered regulation.
Stripping bare of safeguards exposed to the tidal force
where words lose their motion to a letter after 'd' yet
before 'g' an oxymoron to simply even see.

Events numbered in their frequency.
A pulse of life by the name emergence.
 
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