Southron Call

Friday, January 5, 2007

Southron Call……

O Where are you my Southron Son
Past far from the echoed Ancients
Trapped in the offense of yesterday
Forever imprisoned in soulish descents

Will you rise to save what's yours
By birth and blood freely shed
Or will the echoes from the past
Ring empty in your head

O where are you my Southron Daughter
Now made to play the harlots role
Graced in all beauty like no other
Ever asked to dance and lose your soul

Will you rise up to save what's yours
By birth to grow a nation
Or will the care of vanity
Give life to your enemies sensation

Bring back to all that Southron Pride
Which ruled in simpler days
Repented of what made her weak
Restored to gracious and beautiful ways

Surviving The Waterfall

Surviving The Waterfall

So here I am, betwixt the mix

Of the cascading waterfall

A thing of beauty and power

To inspire and destroy

It is the narrow intersection

Of a vast reservoir before

The cliff that would normally kill

Yet, because of the flow, it allows

Those who are caught willfully, or by chance

To somehow survive the plunge

What brought the survivor to this point

Was it the force of waters behind

Or the passivity of a restful swim

Did the oncoming fall overtake

By inattention to it's existence

Perhaps it was the apex of intent

To surge through the waters to this end

Dashing the swimmer on the rocks below

Or escaping the gentle placid waters behind

In hopes of seeing the only dreamt about

Marvelous oceans of experience beyond

To what end awaits those that plunge

Without regard to the restful past

Taking that which most swimmers would not

Is the end of all to be crushed, on the jagged rocks

Drowned in the heaviness of the water

Or is it to survive, allowing those aloft

To squeamishly and timidly observe

Never understanding the delight of the survivor

Move

MOVE

If I saw you on the street one day

If a glance, would you turn my way

Toward the memory of our yesterday

Move your thoughts my way

Would you see me for the man I am

Not before, you ever gave a damn

The one that loved you with his callused hands

Move your eyes my way

Lost in anger for the moments past

From a love that should be never last

Toward the ending of what came too fast

Move your touch my way

If you heard a whisper thrown your way

Gently calling for a better way

Words you never want to turn away

Move your ear my way

So I’ll ask you for this one last time

Bring you closer with an all that’s mine

Hope beyond the hope, you’ll once be mine

Move your heart my way

I can’t live with just a half, of love

Not to be, what’s meant from up above

Would not settle for this push,or shove

Turn your love my way

A darker side

This was my one attempt at “dark” poetry…How did I do?



A darker side


A darker side comes forth, comes out
There, from my mouth, a vomitous shout

To laugh and play, in darker halls
Where murdering thoughts, line blood stained walls

Lascivious words prepared in vain
Lustfully dripping in fluidous shame

I can go further than any could tell
Down to the pit of a devils made hell

Spitting and lunging to grab hold of that waste
Then leaving the hole at a cleaver dead haste

The fire that warms me is the danger to all
For once and now fallen, embrace the" pits" call

If lingering impressions are not followed full
He'll have you down in that blackened cave, fool

Now in this brief time, I'll flirt with this pain
Impress those around, and some friends will I gain

Then when they’re all fixed, on my new fondled place
I'll wake up and turn back, to the light and the grace...



OK...tried to end this darkly. Just could not...just not in me I guess...lol
Yes, I meant to use the word "cleaver" and not clever...I thought it a bit more gruesome.

On Moonlit Full

On Moonlit full

I dream of you

A silhouette in window

Your curves desired

To know again

With touch of hands and lips

Your memory haunts

In delightful ways

Bringing to mind such pleasure

Your taste still resides

Within my mind

Each fold to kiss once more

The way we moved

Forever traps my skin

Recalling the passion and rapture

When I am old

My memory ringing

Of echoed soft embraces

My eyes will see

Such moonlit curves

Recall the beauty of friends

When not just memory

Was born in soul

But love was born again