Month: February 2005

  • Apathy ‘board Gunnlod’s Mead


     







    A once proud Norse ship,


    The Gunnlod’s Mead,


    Now sailed in disrepair.


    Her damaged masts and tattered sails


    Dejected in the gloomy breeze,


    The rotting hull and shattered keel


    Bashed too many times


    Against the irony,


    The reef offshore


    That Hope’s Last Wellspring


    Had in store.


    A cruel misnomer


    That cried, “Try, try again”,


    “Just keep the faith”,


    Providing no prize


    For the attempt


    But punishment


    For the crime.


     


    The albatross that led the way


    Abandoned this ship long ago.


    The gulls remain and wait


    To pick at the inevitable,


    The meal served up


    By its demise


    Upon fate’s dinner plate.


     


    The mermaids and the succubus


    No longer need their lure,


    Nor call out seductively;


    Lounging patiently


    On relentless waves.


    They are confident


    They’ll get their prey


    Later in the day.


    The lost crew,


    Marionettes with cut strings


    Heaped on the parquet.


    A dance with the listless


    Swaying to the rhythm of the sea;


    The maligned, discordant


    Symphony of Failure


    Creaking eerily


    From taught, distorted rigging.


    All vitality long sloughed away,


    Like Kvasir’s blood


    By the always advancing,


    Always encroaching tide


    Of frustration


    And fate.


     


    Thus the will is crushed.


    The struggle grows weaker;


    Attempts to overcome


    Fewer and further apart.


    Desire, trust and faith


    Are dashed upon the rocks


    And life becomes


    A long, drawn-out


    Savage shipwreck.


     


    The once fierce hearts


    Drift to and fro


    In the sea’s foamy surf


    Eroding with indifference,


    Degrading into entropy,


    At last arriving,


    Sinking effortlessly


    Into the Harbor of Apathy


    Alongside their picked-clean bones


    And ruined ship.


    Their lives and dreams


    Condemned to the deep


    By eternal hope.


     


     


    Editorial Note:  In case you are interested, Gunnlod and Kvasir are figures from Norse Mythology.  Their short story may be of interest to the poets around here.  By the way, the ship crew’s parrot flies away with the albatross and both live happily ever after together although their interspecies union is never recognized by either the Bush Administration or the Catholic Church nor is it ever legitimized by the Supreme Court.


     

  • Failure


     







    It is a ravenous beast


    Racing up my spine


    Encroaching ever further


    On my inner sanctum


    My peace of mind


    The pieces of my mind


    Where courage and faith


    Now shrink back


    Eroding into self-laid lies


    Into bitter cobblestones


    That pave the road of fear


     


    It is the little voice


    That howls with madness


    Telling me I can’t


    I never really could


    Why even bother


    It will end up just the same


     


    It is a hundred different ways to say


    Don’t even try


    Just give up and


    Just give in


    Have a seat in the mire


    Called apathy and self loathing


    We’ll swim with the suicidal


    Where the water is warm


    It will be just fine


    You pathetic


    Wretched


    Little boy


     


    It is a deadly dialogue


    An inner sickness


    A laughing twisted rant


    Deftly obscuring


    God’s embrace


     


    It breeds deceit


    Constricts courage


    Destroys hope


    Crushes dreams


    And corrupts faith


    The devil’s tongue


    That lives and breaths


    Inside my very skull


     


    You make me sick


    You’re disgusting


    Hopeless


    Useless


    You’re nothing


    A waste


    Just a… vile reflection


    In the mirror


     


    So… quit


    Just quit


    It will all be over soon


    Just quit


     


    After all…


    You never really tried, did you


     


     

  • Fear in the Darkness


     


    My shadow passed me in the park


    Drawing voices from the dark


    I saw gloomy figures so unreal


    Heard screams my very bones could feel


     


    Footsteps echo through my mind


    Within nights blackness I’m confined


    This fearsome path I chose tonight


    Rebukes the prayers I recite


     


    The hounds of hell have found my scent


    They bide their time, they are intent


    I feel their eyes on every side


    And tainted breath with every stride


     


    I fear my fears are watching me


    Their lacking substance real to me


    They listen in when I’m afraid


    These spectral demons of the shade


     


    I know my mind’s what gives them shape


    To turn and fight, that’s my escape


    No flesh, no bone, no sharpened steel


    Yet I can’t face these fears I feel


     


     

  • I think this would make a halfway decent punk rock song.  What do you think?


    Why? (Ode to Ron and Melba)


    Why… do I hate you so


    You are in my head


    You are in my brain


    Just can’t let you go


     


    Why… can’t I stand the sight


    Of your face at all


    When I think of you


    I confine myself… inside


     


    Why… do I play into


    The games you play


    Still I make my move


    Losing ground to you


     


    Why… can’t I just let you go


    Can’t I just let you go


    Can’t I just let you go


    Why…


     


    Why… can’t I just let you go


    From my mind


    From my hateful mind


    Why…


     

  • House of Pantomime


     








    I’ve built a house


    Of gestures made


    From verse and pantomime


    Pretty words


    That placed my hands


    And circumscribed


    Outlined and redefined


    This fragile house I live in


    This world that I call mine


     


    Within I placed a stanza


    Four walls of metaphor


    Hung picture frames of similes


    Of the truth I’d like to see


    Of things I want


    And the terms I hope


    The world would offer me


     


    I’ll compose myself within


    The carefully defined confine


    Where I control the temperature


    The lights and sounds


    Everything I see


    What’s right and wrong


    And who stops by


    Just to visit me


    An illusion of what’s


    Safe and sound


    A legerdemain where I hide


    From myself inside


     


    I’ve written words


    Just slight of hand


    That seem to tell it all


    But carefully painted pictures


    Are just skillfully crafted lies


    Like the house I’ve built


    And my room inside


    Especially my self-portrait


    That I stand behind


     


    I’ll hide in lines of poetry


    All specially shaped and shined


    And pray the world will come find me


    The way my verse has specified