RightSideDark
01-22-2005, 05:35 PM
http://slumz.boxden.com/showthread.php?t=80604
I am currently writing a poetry book to be published. The book will have atleast 300 poems, including small sections that connect with related poems. The end of the book will end with a section called the Vizion Chronicles. This section will most likely be a continueous poem that stretches for about 10-15 pages. I am working on a sci-fi trilogy to release at a later date, and The Vizion Chonicles metaphorically express the content of the 3 novels. I have sliced up some of it for you to sample here. I hope that you enjoy what I have selected for this audience. Thank you in advanced for reading.
...The slightest hint of fragrance riding agilely over the breeze
Both golden and sweet, I can’t wait to sit below her and eat
Exploding with meat, the fruit that we have all chosen to seek
The motives we keep hidden until we’ve bitten rose of her cheeks
The closer we creep to the potency which is soaked in her seeds
Noticing my throat became weak, anticipating the moment we meet
Eloped in the sheets of the blood poured from the vein of the beast
I keep sinking my teeth in deep ,until what we seek is released
The beauty of the night sky raining tears to carry the tune
The wonderful perfume of the moon comforts me like I’m still in the womb
The shades of loom with a smooth gray display of the groom
Twilight and noon merged into a marriage that never elbows for room
A tomb full of runes composed into the image of man
For future use that I’m sure that we’ll never fully understand
The blueprint of the plan at the very finger tips on our hands
Written from the glyphs in the sand to every sentence I’ve had
Touched by the Vixen of Strands, that can play forever and never sound bland
From the black to red and European blemished to tanned...
...The calm dreams of dawn’s peace after all the songs cease
The one horn a unicorn needs to let the fawn sleep
Cuneiform keys around burgundy uniform sleeves
Until the melody moves beyond the reeds and cues the warm leaves
Songs reach the harmony that paint pictures of the Omni
A reflection of origin beyond me, I see whatever the pond sees
But now its gone deep and its spawned the long beach
Washed away the concrete that veiled all the wrong streets
The strong heat of the hue of onyx fastened in garnet
The ruby guards it from the diamonds that want it
Releasing the Soul of the silence and the secrets it carries
Vulnerability is shown as the serpents pick at its berries
The red juices flow and the blue cold grows on its fangs
The poison of pain eases the fire as it plays in the rain
The evolution of change is irrelevant if the lesson remains
A memory is only there as long you reflect on the stains
The whisper of dreams underlining the message we all know
And then all forgot about the moment we all woke
The imagination of hope and the cheeks that it soaked
The same saliva used in words we forgot that we spoke...
...The silvery rise of a phoenix without a fire’s demise
The watering eyes of flames without a name in sapphire skies
Five feathers of conjecture, the architecture of an ominous lecture
The fusion of pleasure and the pain that survived the bad weather
A daughters’ tear on the calm waters that stars sparkle near
Remembrance of a martyr and the departure that all started here
The glass eye of a dry task sees thru a dark moments’ black sand
The scathed left by scattered ash hidden under another cracked mask
The contours of a vision seen only after taken from view
Awakens the truth of the fates that lays innate within you
Dormant in the current, black coals asleep in the furnace
Just hope it never gets cold enough that we all have to burn it
The forging of swords laced with the blood that it pours
Pointing towards the cords on an instrument that never had lords
Seeking the point of your peek is often more bitter than sweet
Especially since a kiss on the cheek leaves even the strongest man weak
The downward fall of a tear even during the upward shine of glare
Leaves me at peace with a confidence that man is prepared
The lessons of life come only when we face death
The safe test that we are ready for whatever awaits next...
...The rising tears of the Earth which had never been seen
Became a remarkable sight on The Night Of Remarkable Dreams
It sparkled and gleamed as Earth ripped apart at the seams
The heart of our queen exposed as we enclosed her with rings
Kept her afloat with the wings that broke as they burned in the stream
Unnoticed by beings that couldn’t conceive the returning of kings
Utopian dreams open with hopes that man can ascend the supreme
And do so without descending to the level of the devils and fiends
The rebels that walked the green and did so with two fragile feet
Become demons on nights that invite only the most savage beast
Lavishly enticive with the righteous bright light that the night gives
At the height of the fight is when the light shows you what right is
The most vital cords struck as the game of chance ignored luck
And before such instruments of our lords were born loved
The warm touch of a glove worn many years before us
And then torn from the dove who’s feathers’ bore sons
Daughters wove thread until the strings they choked bled
Provoking the lyrics and quoting what the final note said
Wearing cloaks red from the tears that only awoke death
Determined to protest until there was absolutely no hope left…
I am currently writing a poetry book to be published. The book will have atleast 300 poems, including small sections that connect with related poems. The end of the book will end with a section called the Vizion Chronicles. This section will most likely be a continueous poem that stretches for about 10-15 pages. I am working on a sci-fi trilogy to release at a later date, and The Vizion Chonicles metaphorically express the content of the 3 novels. I have sliced up some of it for you to sample here. I hope that you enjoy what I have selected for this audience. Thank you in advanced for reading.
...The slightest hint of fragrance riding agilely over the breeze
Both golden and sweet, I can’t wait to sit below her and eat
Exploding with meat, the fruit that we have all chosen to seek
The motives we keep hidden until we’ve bitten rose of her cheeks
The closer we creep to the potency which is soaked in her seeds
Noticing my throat became weak, anticipating the moment we meet
Eloped in the sheets of the blood poured from the vein of the beast
I keep sinking my teeth in deep ,until what we seek is released
The beauty of the night sky raining tears to carry the tune
The wonderful perfume of the moon comforts me like I’m still in the womb
The shades of loom with a smooth gray display of the groom
Twilight and noon merged into a marriage that never elbows for room
A tomb full of runes composed into the image of man
For future use that I’m sure that we’ll never fully understand
The blueprint of the plan at the very finger tips on our hands
Written from the glyphs in the sand to every sentence I’ve had
Touched by the Vixen of Strands, that can play forever and never sound bland
From the black to red and European blemished to tanned...
...The calm dreams of dawn’s peace after all the songs cease
The one horn a unicorn needs to let the fawn sleep
Cuneiform keys around burgundy uniform sleeves
Until the melody moves beyond the reeds and cues the warm leaves
Songs reach the harmony that paint pictures of the Omni
A reflection of origin beyond me, I see whatever the pond sees
But now its gone deep and its spawned the long beach
Washed away the concrete that veiled all the wrong streets
The strong heat of the hue of onyx fastened in garnet
The ruby guards it from the diamonds that want it
Releasing the Soul of the silence and the secrets it carries
Vulnerability is shown as the serpents pick at its berries
The red juices flow and the blue cold grows on its fangs
The poison of pain eases the fire as it plays in the rain
The evolution of change is irrelevant if the lesson remains
A memory is only there as long you reflect on the stains
The whisper of dreams underlining the message we all know
And then all forgot about the moment we all woke
The imagination of hope and the cheeks that it soaked
The same saliva used in words we forgot that we spoke...
...The silvery rise of a phoenix without a fire’s demise
The watering eyes of flames without a name in sapphire skies
Five feathers of conjecture, the architecture of an ominous lecture
The fusion of pleasure and the pain that survived the bad weather
A daughters’ tear on the calm waters that stars sparkle near
Remembrance of a martyr and the departure that all started here
The glass eye of a dry task sees thru a dark moments’ black sand
The scathed left by scattered ash hidden under another cracked mask
The contours of a vision seen only after taken from view
Awakens the truth of the fates that lays innate within you
Dormant in the current, black coals asleep in the furnace
Just hope it never gets cold enough that we all have to burn it
The forging of swords laced with the blood that it pours
Pointing towards the cords on an instrument that never had lords
Seeking the point of your peek is often more bitter than sweet
Especially since a kiss on the cheek leaves even the strongest man weak
The downward fall of a tear even during the upward shine of glare
Leaves me at peace with a confidence that man is prepared
The lessons of life come only when we face death
The safe test that we are ready for whatever awaits next...
...The rising tears of the Earth which had never been seen
Became a remarkable sight on The Night Of Remarkable Dreams
It sparkled and gleamed as Earth ripped apart at the seams
The heart of our queen exposed as we enclosed her with rings
Kept her afloat with the wings that broke as they burned in the stream
Unnoticed by beings that couldn’t conceive the returning of kings
Utopian dreams open with hopes that man can ascend the supreme
And do so without descending to the level of the devils and fiends
The rebels that walked the green and did so with two fragile feet
Become demons on nights that invite only the most savage beast
Lavishly enticive with the righteous bright light that the night gives
At the height of the fight is when the light shows you what right is
The most vital cords struck as the game of chance ignored luck
And before such instruments of our lords were born loved
The warm touch of a glove worn many years before us
And then torn from the dove who’s feathers’ bore sons
Daughters wove thread until the strings they choked bled
Provoking the lyrics and quoting what the final note said
Wearing cloaks red from the tears that only awoke death
Determined to protest until there was absolutely no hope left…