Idyll Winds

The rose petals sing,
In beautiful unison,
Their song to the
Sun's kind warmth.

The willows' bent backs
Show their old age,
But wisdom lies
In their branches.

A fence crosses paths
With a beaten-down trail,
Its paint peeling with
Memories of the 50s.

A cabin sits
On aging haunches,
Empty now, except for
The curious crow.

THe river whispers
The moonlight to sleep,
Its love-drenched echoes
Reaching only deaf ears.

Specter in the Library

This poem follows an Angelou-esque format, I suppose...Sort of an homage to the library (where I do much of my writing these days)...

All these pages;
So few answers,
But the stories
Keep me alive.

My mind is filled
With things that kill,
Forever in thoughts
Contrived.

All these pages;
So few answers,
But the stories
Keep me alive.

In this place is
Reclusive graces,
Aloneness to help me
Survive.

All these pages;
So few answers,
But the stories
Keep me alive.

Lost in escape
This fiction, it shapes
Me, ideas in my soul
Will thrive.

All these pages;
So few answers,
But the stories
Keep me alive.

My faults and my problems;
Unwilling to solve them,
Leave reality for the
Next time.

The Night is Darker

To be honest, I haven't completely figured this poem out either (and I wrote it)...Sorta darker imagery, sorry...

The face that I see is not
Of this world...
Hollow eyes that keep
Piercing my soul...

Buried in a shallow grave,
Knowingly I rise.
This hunger
Will disappear
'Fore the morning comes;
Life stolen from a world
That took my own.
I sleep
No longer, for
I'm tired of dreaming of
Blood on an angel's wings, a
Purity distorted by none other than
Myself.

I Lost my Part in the Choir of Dusk

Short poem (which is interesting, I rarely write poems under 10-20 lines) with a shout out to Kristian Matsson...hope you like (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=EkwxxJE3zcY)

The sun rises, then falls,
Still I know in my soul,
That your Heart is the means
And your Passion the goal.

Forget myself and
Give in to new Birth;
Maybe then I'll be
The Tallest Man on Earth.

Marmalade Skies

Cheesy poem about summer...

Bright days and summer nights:
The future lies within my sight.
Sun-beaten and filter-free,
The way the world was meant to be.
Forget the cold and barren ground,
Faultless leaves no longer bound.
Cutoff jeans and sea-salt shoes,
No way left for me to lose.
Seeing the world through lollipop eyes,
Compliments the marmalade skies.

June is soon and May is here,
A bluer sky is coming near.

Stillness in Summertime & Dreamscape (Rictameter practice)

A friend suggested trying rictameter, so here are a few I came up with:

Stillness in Summertime

The trees
Speak only if
Spoken to, their voices
Fall victim to the breeze and the
Whispers of the crows as they fly back north.
Listen carefully, friend of mine,
For the music is in
Silent calls of
The trees.

Dreamscape

Falling
Through a blank space,
Til I am shook awake.
The rest of the day spent dreaming
Of the wind whipping my face as I drop
Through surreality's darkness.
This place is not freedom;
Freedom is in
Falling.

Poetry Practice

Hey, (to the 3 people that ever see this blog)

If you guys ever have anywriting challenges, forms you think I should attempt, or something you want a poem about, this is where you let me know :) I'm always looking to challenge myself as to not get stuck in a certain place in my writing.

Thanks,

Colin

Clouds of a Beautiful Crimson

I hope you guys enjoy this sonnet...I'm surprisingly pleased with it myself. Kinda pretty I hope. Anyways...

This I see through a window of fluid clarity,
Like a lake of the utmost calm:

The clouds hide memories of years ago,
When the grass grew greener and soft.
I am beginning to feel I am young no longer;
My youth stolen, or lost by the wayside.

November's blue beckons to me,
Though it's nearly the middle of May.
The breeze is that of a darker fall,
And the serenity betrays its maker.

If it were not for the Rocks that keep me afloat,
My screams would ring slowly, silent.
For alone I am nothing; together we rise,
On clouds of a beautiful crimson.

Goodbye to a Friend

Experamenting with a form I like, the Villanelle.

Where did you go, bitter Apathy?
Forgotten me for now?
Your comfort I'll soon forget.

It was not your fault, but mine,
Stumbling in a senseless mist.
Where did you go, bitter Apathy?

Hate and Fear, you filled my concious,
I miss your deadly verses;
Your comfort I'll soon forget.

Like lilies in the springtime,
My garden's filled with calm.
Where did you go, bitter Apathy?

The blade has lost it's fury;
These cuts will heal in time.
Your comfort I'll soon forget.

My skin is flushed with pigment,
My eyes with golden light.
Where did you go, bitter Apathy?
Your comfort I'll soon forget.