Poems Galore!!!!

So like I said in my last post, this book of poetry I've been reading has been inspiring me to write poems. I had no idea how true that was until Friday night when I wrote four!!!! So in all, this week I've written eight poems. Yay!!!! This is seven of them, I already posted the Lady of the Lake one.
The first is very random and came out of nowhere.

When he went away
she stood there at the stairs
watching his graying hair
fade away
until the memory was gone,
too.


The Quilt
The quilt swirled off her lap
and billowed onto the floor
the room was full of roses and ferns--
a peice of summer that never died
and guarded against the bitter cold.


Heaven
If I could write poems
all the day long
with an occasional break
to sing a silly song

and a piano right there
to plunk out a tune
and a great big backyard
to look at the moon

With family nearby
and friends all around
and a place to escape
all the joyous sound

Why, I wouldn't need money
or sleep, or even bread
for I'd ben in heaven
and already dead!


My Love
Where is my love?
Where is he now?
Is he on land or sea or air?
Who is my love?
I know him not
know not if he is dark or fair.
I know only
that through my life
on edges, hovering, he's there
He's like a star
shining for me
and when we meet, I'll join him there.


I might as well write
another poem tonight
four will be a record
for one day -
but what to say?
My mind is full of poetry
flowing in and out like a stream
like a half-remembered dream
the words fall- they flow-
they don't know where to go
they tumble, they grumble
like and unseen bird
nothing's ever been hear-
it's too absurd-
maybe I shouldn't
finish this poem tonight.

But I'll never have
this moment again
my soul is drenched in words
overflowing with thoughts,
ideas, that only I can write
I don't know what to say
only
the day will soon be over
the sky is dark and my
eyes are heavy
and I wish this night
could last forever.

I can't sort anything out
I have no idea what this poems about.
Do you know?
Didn't think so.


What should I do about this poem? Halfway through it switches styles. O_O Anna said I should change it so it's all one style or the other-- but that would ruin it. And take ages. Does it work like this?


How Many More Nights
How many more
nights like this will there be?
With this book upon my knee?
I can read it again
and again and again
But then
I'll be so different then
Will it still make the words start
and not stop until my heart
is unburdened, free?
How many more nights
like this will there be?


Love
A love burns in me
deep in my heart
a love for my friends,
my family, my art
A love for afternoon
light in the fall
a love for the sea
and the wind's lonely call.
A love for people
who suffer so long
and can still raise their voice
in life's joyous song
A love for music
that comforts the soul
A love for writing--
but, on the whole,
A love burns in me
that no one can name
So deep-- as I change,
the love stays the same
This love within me
is peace in a storm
a refuge - and slowly
the love takes a form...

A love burns in me
something more than mine
exuberant - free-
this love that will shine
I open my eyes
and see.


And then this last one, should I end it with form or see? I can't decide which I like better.

And there you have it!
Kelia

Poem!

So Mom was looking through some of Dad's books, and she found some ones of poetry. So I've been reading Classic Poems to Read Aloud, which I love. All the poems are so good! And I've found, when I read poetry it often inspires me to write some. This poem I wrote yesterday I wrote because the Lady of the Lake is a character in the story I'm writing.

The Lady of the Lake

Would you be a lady
with a lake to yourself?
A place to swim
and a place to sing
and a place to take the moon
and put the starlight into jewels

to adorn a sword
made out of ice
and the light of early morning

Would you be a lady
with a life to yourself?
You'll swim forever
oh and you'll sing
the days away

the hills will know the sorrow
of a life full of mystery
you're something more than a lady
made from lake-water-- moonlight--
you will change history

You have no choice.
You'll spend your life
alone...

Kelia

I wrote this a week ago, but I just got around to posting it now...

God is here
that's him in the trees
can you hear him in the wind?
The sunlight dances
reminding me
that God is here.

Wherever you see beauty
in nature, in music,
in life
God is there.
He's there in the still of night
in the crashing of waves
whenever you need peace
he'll be there for you.

I don't know why I
didn't always see it
so many times
I blinded myself with anger -
self absorbtion -
and I couldn't hear
his peace in my heart.

Listen.

I can hear him in the wind
God is here.


Oooor I could do the ending

I don't know why I
didn't always see it
so many times
I blinded myself with anger -
self absorbtion -
and I couldn't feel
him in my heart.

Listen.

I can hear him in the wind
bringing peace to the world.
God is here.

Which do you like better?
Kelia

Guess

So I wrote this today... thoughts?


The music thrums
You can feel it’s beat
In the soles of your feet
As you sway with the drums

The music whirls
You can feel it fly
See it reach for the sky
As you dance, as you twirl

The music slows
You can feel the pain
Flowing soft like the rain
But before all’s despair

The music grows
You can feel it build--
Something new, something filled
With wonder is here
As you move to the flow

The music thrums--
The music whirls--
It slows--
It grows--
Disappears.


Kelia

Two New Poems

Here's two new poems, I wrote the first on Monday and the second yesterday.

Singing--
is opening the mouth and letting
everything out
thoughts, feelings,
unexplainable joys
untellable sorrows
you can hear it all in the notes
the relief
to be getting away from life
the bittersweetness of life
as you sing your heart out
you want to shar it with all the world
so you work, and work
and sometimes lose the reason for singing
but it always comes back
on a gray day when you sing out of havit
and find new meanings in the words
more beauty in the song
than you've ever heard before.
And you stop and listen
to the raw delight
the aching loneliness
and you forget about that stubborn note
the difficulty over your break
you forget everything except the need
to give your heart a voice
and you sing
like never before.


Night falls
I stare at the object draped in shadows
thatI've seen so mant times before
inanimate
it speaks of silence and perseverence
its stood as the years have washed over it
jostled from place to place
always persistent in it's silence,
in it's peace.
As the world whirls around--
comings and goings
fights and laughter
hugs and tears and anger and joy--
when the world stops spinning
it stands here in the darkness
waiting for me to fall asleep
so it can sing it's song
of silence.

Kelia

I know, I know

But it's only been three weeks! That is a long time, but it doesn't feel that long for me because I've only written three poems. Oh well.

I just wrote this poem, I like it but somehow I don't think it flows right...?

Dreams are funny things
they fly in and out
full of imressions,
colors,
sounds,
sometimes bringing
story ideas with them
that flourish and blossom
while you're sleeping
filling the night with
anticipation,
potential,
beginnings.
You breath fast when you wake
and stare into the dark--
remembering the dream
that painted your mind
with such possibilities.
Will it shrivel when
the morning light hits it,
or will it strengthen and hold?
The question doesn't
even cross your mind
as there, in the dark,
a world unfurls before you.
This night has brought a gift-
fragile - like and egg--
it will either break or hatch.
For now you hold it close
dreaming
of what's inside.

Aaaaaand a very silly one I wrote last week. I was not in the mood to write a poem.

What I Would Say

If I Kept a Journal

It's 4 aclock
it's raining out
if my handwriting's messy
it's because my eyes are closed
I'm trying to go to sleep
it's not working
but try I will
while the rain patters,
splatters down
and time ticks away
into oblivion.
(That was rather eloquent,
don't you think?)

Kelia

Poem! Finally!

I have been still writing poems, they just haven't been very good or have been too private too put up here. So finally I wrote one that I like.

The theatre is dark
light spills in
onto empty seats-
the shadows retreat
and quickly cloak the rest
in mystery.
You step between light and dark
and listen to the quiet
a resting quiet
it speaks of long-lost voices
and memories of songs.
Playbills, posters catch your eye
as the darkness softens
tributes to past plays
and actors who have danced
on this stage.
You climb the steps
catch a glimpse of back-stage,
turn away and look out
at read leather seats
that will soon be filled.
You let a note go
hear it ring in the darkness
it fades away and is gone
swallowed up like all the others
you sit back and listen
to the memory of an echo
as the door opens
and light and laughter
washes over the past
and into now.

Kelia