Sunday, February 1, 2009

A New Poem

I am deeply apologetic to my avid readers that I have not posted in so long: this week has been quite hectic what with the renaissance of School. However, here's an original poem which I think is my best yet.

the water is creeping up slowly
cold, murky, dark water
drowning and suffocating
flowing gently down my throat
but there’s no peace
it chokes, it burns
the lank dark water burns as it bubbles
struggling into my lungs
cool but not refreshing
blackness dark like the black murky water
clouding up my sight
the eyes close…
No! I live, I am safe, I am fine
no…I live, I am not fine.
why did the dream end…
dust, ash, and grey oblivion.

now I am sitting in a chair
I have been sitting here for too long
everywhere the pain, the ache
the sorrow…the wrenching at my heart
my throat is dry
the shackles at my wrists chafe
the shackles at my ankles chafe
the shackles at my heart chafe more than any
I strain at them for long
and then I ask myself Why strain?
I lean back against the wood of the chair
and I let it all slip away
I let my breath slide slowly out of my body
again the darkness before my eyes
but I know how it goes
I have been here before…
and again I wake…
I live, I am safe, I am fine
No…I live, I am not fine.
why did the dream end…
dust, ash, and grey oblivion.

where can I find hope
where can I find joy
is there hope to be found
is there joy to be found
or is it all grimy gritty dust
is it all choking fine ash
is it all mindless shivering grey oblivion
is this the way the world ends
where is the whimper

why can I see the hope
in You
why can I see the joy
in You
why can I never feel the hope
in Me
why can I never feel the joy
in Me
why do I only feel dust
why do I only feel ash
why do I only feel grey quaking oblivion
is this the way the world ends
where is the whimper

I see no gleam of light
I see no ray of hope
I see no glimmer of reason
there is nothing for me
nothing
nothing
nothing but dust
nothing but ash
nothing but grey sniffling oblivion
is this the way the world ends
where is the whimper

I hear a bell
chiming a chime
sounding hollow and faint
whispers of snow against the dead cold of autumn
is that my heart stirring
or is this yet another dream
a cruel taunting
soon to end in a dream-death
a dream-death from which I will wake up
as maddeningly alive as ever

what do the bells say
I can just hear them
(hark how the bells
sweet silver bells
all seem to say)
what
what do they say

I begin to hear
they are coming closer
(one seems to hear
words of good cheer
from everywhere
filling the air)
yes
yes they are words
words of good cheer

now they are clearer
yet still somehow hollow
and there is another sound
a sound of drums
or hoofbeats
someone else is coming
(O how they pound
raising the sound
o’er hill and dale
telling their tale)
pound
pound
they are coming for me
the hoofbeats

I know now
this is no dream
this is no fancy
I will not awaken
and I foresee as well
that I do not welcome death
it was ideals
it seems I do fear those pounding hoofbeats

hollow and faint the rings are again
(gaily they ring
while people sing)
they will not see me
they will not hear me
they will not help me
(on on they send
on without end)
the hoofbeats are coming closer

the dust is rising
the ash is settling
grey mirthless oblivion
dusk
twilight
is falling on us all
the hearts of young men fail
the courage of warriors faints
the sun is black

the hoofbeats are a knell for my heart
is death then a comfort
is joy a myth
is hope a dream
(my flesh and my heart may fail
but you...)

the bells are silent now
(gaily they ring
while people sing
song of good cheer
Christmas is here)
the bells are silent now
and the thundering of the hoofbeats
the pounding
the pounding
(Out of the depths have I cried unto thee, O Lord)
it’s louder than ever
death breathes down my neck
and the breath is cold and clammy
yet it burns
(Lord, hear my voice: let thine ears be attentive to the voice of my supplications.)

death catches at my wrist
death catches at my throat
death catches at my heart
(If thou, Lord, shouldest mark iniquities, O Lord, who shall stand?)
I look behind me
I look where his cold hand touches my wrist
and there is nothing there
and again I feel the dread
it was lighter
but now it returns
(I wait for the Lord, my soul doth wait, and in his word do I hope.)

no
no more hope
no more waiting
nothing but dust
nothing but ash
nothing but grey shiftless oblivion
(But there is forgiveness with thee, that thou mayest be feared.)
I do not fear
I dread
I weep
but I do not fear
why
why do I not fear
(My soul waiteth for the Lord more than they that watch for the morning: I say, more than they that watch for the morning.)

the waiting
the long incessant task of waiting
and will there be a morning
will I find Hope
will I find Joy
(Let Israel hope in the Lord: for with the Lord there is mercy, and with him is plenteous redemption.)
where is my redemption
where is Israel
where is mercy
where is hope

why
why must I hold out
why must I forget death’s cold hand at my heart
where can it all go
where will the dust go
the blinding scratchy hoarse dust
where will the ash go
the flaky reeking floury ash
where
oh where
where will the grey sublime oblivion go
the dull aching slimy gasping oblivion
the grey oblivion
where will it go

dust, ash, and grey oblivion
where do they disappear to
is this the way the world ends
where is the bang

here is the bang
here is the hope
this is the way the world ends
(And he shall redeem Israel from all his iniquities.)
in you is forgiveness
let Israel hope in the Lord
my soul waiteth
Hark how the bells,
sweet silver bells,
all seem to say,
throw cares away
Lord, hear my voice

And He shall redeem Israel from all his iniquities.

my friends
dust
ash
grey oblivion
Where have you gone?

And He shall redeem Israel from all his iniquities.

2 comments:

theoldadam said...

To me (anyway)

your poem was a picture of baptism.

Death...to life.

Nice job!

Ian the Pontificator said...

Thank you.

I can't say I intended it to portray one thing: like Tolkien, I rather despise allegory. But, re-reading it, I do see how the narrator moves from the Old Man to the New Man, and is not exactly sure what to do with the new feelings.

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