a selection of five poems

MagnumForce

...cos i couldnt choose just one, theres loads more but i'll save them for another day. if you want to know what any of them are about, ask me and i'll try and remember. these five were written directly after the one before, if you get me


Noctua

Eyes like planets, storing as much,
Wisdom preened feathers, soft to the touch.
His Flight like a thought, still, in the Dark.
Talons of Resurgence, in soft Ashen bark.

The Night is His Sanctum, Epoch of Phobos,
Sentinel of Minerva, Subduer of Deimos.
The Dead in their Crypts, Sleep and He flies,
Never to see Him, not troubled to try.

Chained in Republic, puppets of fire,
Plato's long dead, his Funeral Pyre.
The sound from His throat, high and shrill,
Warns of the Gallows, made of Yggdrasil.

Chaos, the Father, God of Night,
The Owl is his Son, Erebus of Light.
Encompass Night-walkers, ones of Your Heart,
Seize the sun-worship, Tear it apart.

Secrets are Shadows, Hid in the day,
Knowledge flies Free, when day goes Away.
Live always Abnocto, the Moon give you Sight,
Your Guide flies above, Proud in the Night.


Na Reanne Neimhe

The brightest Light, the Shining Star,
Of snowy white, come from Afar,
A Blind portent, of Day and Fate,
Be not Content, with Fear and Hate.

Across the sky the Spirits soar,
On Elven Wings of forgotten lore,
While Dream-like Voices flood the air,
And Resound upon the Starlight fair.

When Chance brings Hope of shining Eyes,
Like the stars above the Flowing skies,
A Blazing fire-fight cant Scathe,
The Alabaster of the Grave.

Celestial Fury with Light that Blinds,
Slices forth, to Seize and Bind,
The Being built by the Nemesis,
Which Writhes and Shrieks in Light like This.


Oneiric Verse

I came across a World,
Whilst Dancing in the dawn,
And realised as't unfurled,
It had been there all along.

The last Star shone Symphonic,
And Faeries sang the Tune,
And all around a Sonic,
Feeling Held the Moon.

A Golden whistled Bird,
Sat gently on my hand,
As I Danced to Music unheard,
By those Confined to Land.

On returning from the Dream,
I felt a Curious pull,
But despite of this, the Seam,
Remained Intact and Full.


Emerald

The green of sea these Emeralds shine,
And they shine to more for they arent Mine.
And when viewed Ultimately from Afar,
They Sparkle like the Middle star.

Among the Filth, these Jewels are found,
Mingled with the Dust and Ground.
But illuminate the Darkest Search,
For man's religion and his Rebirth.

So pure and bright like the smallest elf,
And so Deep that you could lose yourself,
In mysteries of the Parallel,
Or in the Halls of Blackest Hell.

Without them Life would surely Die,
And with them to forever cry,
The Words of ancient Prophesies:
Fortune!, Glory!, and the Greenest Seas.


Surrealism

The face that hides a thousand fears,
Decorated by the silver tears,
Which show the lives of tortured men,
Locked inside of each, and when,
When tear rolls and parts the lips,
The earth shakes and stalker sips
The flat perfume of childhood lost,
Not caring for extensive costs.

Slowly filtered by the soul,
The purest silver becomes whole,
Hole through which the diver delves,
And hole and diver find themselves.

The mirror eyes, adorned with love,
But undressed they do not love enough,
For he who spends the flight alone,
Weighed down by stars as heavy as stone.

A tear in space rips the sky apart,
And suns fall in to the heart,
Of misguided lands which twitch, and tear
The belly of the intruder.
Where upon a dead and twisted tree,
Hughes' Crow will always be,
With adorned eyes in gruesome beak,
Retching as he tries to speak,
And carrion eyes that frantic seek,
Dripping as they rot and reek.

Matt Holck

I like Surrealism

I loss the rhythm in the last two stanza
though I like the idea
"The mirror eyes, adorned with love,
But undressed they do not love enough,"

MagnumForce

Matt Holck wrote:

I like Surrealism

I loss the rhythm in the last two stanza
though I like the idea
"The mirror eyes, adorned with love,
But undressed they do not love enough,"

Surrealism tis all in Iambic Tetrameter so the rhythm shouldn't be too hard to follow, actually all of those poems are in iambic tetrameter except Oneiric Verse which is in trimeter.

Surrealism and Emerald were about a certain female.
I can explain those two lines if you want but I feel poetry is best when it isnt examined and torn apart as if it was on a leaving cert english paper, its better just tell the reader the subject matter and let their imagination do the rest.