Bleak Hopes never come true
no one has the faith to make them real.
Bleak hopes are only sometimes realized
as if one last glance
- through a closing door -
left them illuminated.
Bleak hopes are the only
worthwhile way
to shed light towards
our burnishing treasures.
Words haven't meant as much to me, since they betrayed me.
You remind me of how it was to write. To explore thought and emotion
and sound out exactly how many consonants are needed for sadness
compared to the ululating vowels of joy.
You remind me of how a crystaline tear will freeze,
and how a smile will burst forth from an over-insulated heart.
You remind me of the way self-conscious flares of happiness
pierce through intestines tied up in knots.
You remind me of writing poetry on a sunlit day with a breeze in the air,
and how I betrayed words, when they stopped meaning as much to me,
after I met you.
She's going to show me the sky.
I searched all of Europe for it,
the brilliant pin-pricks of light
that outline all created majesty
in our universe - beyond vast
- and she keeps them in her pocket
like she would keep pyramids
in her backyard, or string
hanging gardens from a planter-box.
He couldn't ever love her less.
It was the strange non-secret
She'd gathered, looking in his eyes
since the first moment she'd noticed
him care. His love would never
diminish, not in joy, nor through
pain, anger, or heart-rending despair.
After that, she herself felt, like
thudding heartbeats, every grain of love
that she spied trickling like sand
from many sources and streams
into his wide open heart;
Wondering if she could
ever fill it to bursting;
Wondering if a thousand hourglasses
turned against her might cover over
or bury under, the love he'd shown
which had become both her hope and her fear.
Yellow Roses (Fly Little Raven) by Vanidar, literature
Literature
Yellow Roses (Fly Little Raven)
Fly little raven;
fly racing after
Apollo's chariot.
String bright yellow
roses in your hair.
Smile and let us feel
your fully blossoming warmth.
Shake loose your wings;
Glide and let
fragrant petals drift
behind you in the dusk.
Ascend and spread
your feathers to the night.
Carry your crown like
Venus amidst the stars,
that your admirers might
observe you in the full moon's light.
I don't mean to treat you like a friend
I don't mean to view you like a foe.
I don't like to balance all your words,
I don't enjoy calculating my replies,
or maintaining an, honestly, filtered facade.
I'm sorry that I rationalized.
I'm sorry that I entrusted her to you.
I paid the price, my trust was shattered.
I paid the price, I let you wound me.
She paid the price, and now she's gone.
I can't trust myself
to treat with you unguarded.
I can't trust you at all.
I remember you like a cypress would
frozen in a still, timeless breeze,
with barren boughs frigid against the sky;
only the last leaf of winter
tenaciously clinging to memory;
and my roots delven beneath the earth,
dreaming of warmth and nourishment and light.
My only memory is of your face,
setting on the horizon like the autumn sun,
beaming for just an instant, then blushing red,
disappearing hotly against my shoulder as
your dark hair obscured you from me.
Night's curly tendrils.
and a single droplet
of the coming storm
slid from your cheek and boiled
against my collarbone.
I love you like I remember the heat,
imprin
When she sees his smile,
A magma joy blossoms within her.
For his smile is of her crafting,
and it is her warm, prided longing
to caress the work of her own hands
that seeks to pull her heated, beating heart
from its place at the corners of her eyes,
out from the upturned edges of her lips,
through the very extremities of her tingling fingers,
and into a beautiful gift.
Just for him.
To keep him warm.
For his joy draws from somewhere
very near the base of her love;
and she could not stand to lose it.
The Snake-Charmer's Apprentice by Vanidar, literature
Literature
The Snake-Charmer's Apprentice
In Istanbul, I met a snake-charmer's apprentice.
She was young, and very beautiful, with dark skin, and black hair in coils above her head. I wondered very much how the snake-charmer came by her. The master noticed my attention to their craft. He came out and showed me his own flute, which I admired very much and commented on.
Her flute played a sweet melody, and I tipped her with some of my spare currency. The master's eye gleamed with pride, and with a large breath he joined in on the medley, then with practiced agility moved to take her place and maintain the spell of his trade.
She stood up to speak with me, her
I was a kind voice and a smile.
Your lady could not abide,
So she wished that I should die,
even while her lips and actions lied.
Are you her servant?
Will you become evil for her?
I danced with you, and held you close
I met you, we discussed our dreams;
She gazed on to jealously oppose
and thwart our honest schemes.
Are you her servant?
Will you become evil for her?
As your dagger drained my heart,
I smiled to be in your arms,
Squeezed you back for my part,
Felt your tears, remembered your charms,
Are you her servant?
Did you become evil for her?
She loves you,
But would have others take her pains,
Would let you take her
Bleak Hopes never come true
no one has the faith to make them real.
Bleak hopes are only sometimes realized
as if one last glance
- through a closing door -
left them illuminated.
Bleak hopes are the only
worthwhile way
to shed light towards
our burnishing treasures.
Words haven't meant as much to me, since they betrayed me.
You remind me of how it was to write. To explore thought and emotion
and sound out exactly how many consonants are needed for sadness
compared to the ululating vowels of joy.
You remind me of how a crystaline tear will freeze,
and how a smile will burst forth from an over-insulated heart.
You remind me of the way self-conscious flares of happiness
pierce through intestines tied up in knots.
You remind me of writing poetry on a sunlit day with a breeze in the air,
and how I betrayed words, when they stopped meaning as much to me,
after I met you.
He couldn't ever love her less.
It was the strange non-secret
She'd gathered, looking in his eyes
since the first moment she'd noticed
him care. His love would never
diminish, not in joy, nor through
pain, anger, or heart-rending despair.
After that, she herself felt, like
thudding heartbeats, every grain of love
that she spied trickling like sand
from many sources and streams
into his wide open heart;
Wondering if she could
ever fill it to bursting;
Wondering if a thousand hourglasses
turned against her might cover over
or bury under, the love he'd shown
which had become both her hope and her fear.
Yellow Roses (Fly Little Raven) by Vanidar, literature
Literature
Yellow Roses (Fly Little Raven)
Fly little raven;
fly racing after
Apollo's chariot.
String bright yellow
roses in your hair.
Smile and let us feel
your fully blossoming warmth.
Shake loose your wings;
Glide and let
fragrant petals drift
behind you in the dusk.
Ascend and spread
your feathers to the night.
Carry your crown like
Venus amidst the stars,
that your admirers might
observe you in the full moon's light.
I don't mean to treat you like a friend
I don't mean to view you like a foe.
I don't like to balance all your words,
I don't enjoy calculating my replies,
or maintaining an, honestly, filtered facade.
I'm sorry that I rationalized.
I'm sorry that I entrusted her to you.
I paid the price, my trust was shattered.
I paid the price, I let you wound me.
She paid the price, and now she's gone.
I can't trust myself
to treat with you unguarded.
I can't trust you at all.
I remember you like a cypress would
frozen in a still, timeless breeze,
with barren boughs frigid against the sky;
only the last leaf of winter
tenaciously clinging to memory;
and my roots delven beneath the earth,
dreaming of warmth and nourishment and light.
My only memory is of your face,
setting on the horizon like the autumn sun,
beaming for just an instant, then blushing red,
disappearing hotly against my shoulder as
your dark hair obscured you from me.
Night's curly tendrils.
and a single droplet
of the coming storm
slid from your cheek and boiled
against my collarbone.
I love you like I remember the heat,
imprin
When she sees his smile,
A magma joy blossoms within her.
For his smile is of her crafting,
and it is her warm, prided longing
to caress the work of her own hands
that seeks to pull her heated, beating heart
from its place at the corners of her eyes,
out from the upturned edges of her lips,
through the very extremities of her tingling fingers,
and into a beautiful gift.
Just for him.
To keep him warm.
For his joy draws from somewhere
very near the base of her love;
and she could not stand to lose it.
The Snake-Charmer's Apprentice by Vanidar, literature
Literature
The Snake-Charmer's Apprentice
In Istanbul, I met a snake-charmer's apprentice.
She was young, and very beautiful, with dark skin, and black hair in coils above her head. I wondered very much how the snake-charmer came by her. The master noticed my attention to their craft. He came out and showed me his own flute, which I admired very much and commented on.
Her flute played a sweet melody, and I tipped her with some of my spare currency. The master's eye gleamed with pride, and with a large breath he joined in on the medley, then with practiced agility moved to take her place and maintain the spell of his trade.
She stood up to speak with me, her
I was a kind voice and a smile.
Your lady could not abide,
So she wished that I should die,
even while her lips and actions lied.
Are you her servant?
Will you become evil for her?
I danced with you, and held you close
I met you, we discussed our dreams;
She gazed on to jealously oppose
and thwart our honest schemes.
Are you her servant?
Will you become evil for her?
As your dagger drained my heart,
I smiled to be in your arms,
Squeezed you back for my part,
Felt your tears, remembered your charms,
Are you her servant?
Did you become evil for her?
She loves you,
But would have others take her pains,
Would let you take her
He sings softly from the garden;
Waltzing shoes planted amidst begonias;
With her disappeared behind woolen curtains on the balcony,
Giggling to his improvised words,
(for he steals tunes and melodies)
praising her aquamarine-tawny-blue-green eyes,
sleek jet-black brunette hair, and shapely blonde curls,
when the sprinklers turn on.
She leans out and lends him a smile,
as he begs her stay,
Rivulets on his cheeks,
streaks rolling along his clinging shirt,
tapping a ruined shoe on a garden stone for time
to his harp-accompanied,
sweet,
patient,
Seronade.
(for her fingers pluck his heart.)
When she sees his smile,
A magma joy blossoms within her.
For his smile is of her crafting,
and it is her warm, prided longing
to caress the work of her own hands
that seeks to pull her heated, beating heart
from its place at the corners of her eyes,
out from the upturned edges of her lips,
through the very extremities of her tingling fingers,
and into a beautiful gift.
Just for him.
To keep him warm.
For his joy draws from somewhere
very near the base of her love;
and she could not stand to lose it.
Current Residence: There's a beach around here somewhere :) Favourite genre of music: Swelling/ inspirational(no lyrics)(think soundtracks) Operating System: Windows XP
This Journal Post is jointly Showcase and Introspective. I decided to go back through my deviations, and find out what of my poems had performed the best on receiving Favorites. It's a slightly imperfect metric, based off of how well my poems are advertised, but the good ones certainly have taken off. The following list has one exempted, and I'll explain that below. I've also put a few additional comments on why I think these have taken off.
My most favorited poems are:
1. http://fav.me/d4h7rpg On His Smile - 12
2. http://fav.me/d2ej8lo A Graffiti Promise - 10
3. http://vanidar.deviantart.com/art/She-Has-Not-Asked-101521933 She Has
Stolen from ~Kitty-Ham (https://www.deviantart.com/kitty-ham)... who stole it from somebody else.... who stole it from someone else... you get the picture
Meme Rules:
1->You must post these rules.
2->Each person must post 10 things about themselves on their journal.
3->Answer the questions the tagger set for you, and create ten new questions for the people you tag to answer.
4->Go to their pages and tell them you have tagged her/him.
5->Is right out.
6->No tag backs.
7->Nothing in the tagging section about "you are tagged if you're reading this." You have to tag 10 people. Unless you don't.
Kitty's questions:
1. HI THAR 8D
HELLO! :D
2. Do you like doing memes lik
Lighting up the brown bark sky?
Carving silver tendrils through
distant forests, never pondering why.
yeah, that was about two minutes of effort. More importantly:
Meteor shower starts... now! :D
http://abcnews.go.com/Technology/quadrantid-meteor-shower-2012-shooting-stars-wednesday-dawn/story?id=15279375