Author Topic: Jubal's poems  (Read 33926 times)

Jubal

  • Megadux
    Executive Officer
  • Posts: 26804
  • Karma: 116
  • Awards Awarded for oustanding services to Exilian!
    • View Profile
    • Awards
Re: Jubal's poems
« Reply #225 on: November 15, 2018, 09:21:46 PM »
The Poetry of Mead

They said the mead of poetry
Gave man the gift of rhyme
The joy of verse
The ecstasy of rhythm
And on this point perhaps
They told true.

But neglectfully
They concealed the other truth
The truth so clear
In translucent gold
That it was unseeable.

This is that truth:
The mead of poetry
Is
Mead.

What is verse, when fought
with hazy restfulness?
What power of song calls better
Than a lolling, slurring tongue?

The mead of poetry is acclaimed
By the connoisseurs
By high society (none higher than the Gods)
But what is acclamation in
a heated, half blurred night?

So we mortals drink our mead
and curse the poetry
We were not born to live
blurred lives;
Those come from other cruelties
Ones we escape into the blur
The blur
Where the Gods
Put poetry
Knowing it, too, was irresistible

Still my pen scratches paper
And I call for another round of mead and poetry
And wish, to unhearing Gods, to be shot of them both.
The duke, the wanderer, the philosopher, the mariner, the warrior, the strategist, the storyteller, the wizard, the wayfarer...

Jubal

  • Megadux
    Executive Officer
  • Posts: 26804
  • Karma: 116
  • Awards Awarded for oustanding services to Exilian!
    • View Profile
    • Awards
Re: Jubal's poems
« Reply #226 on: December 09, 2018, 11:49:06 AM »
Passing Pale

I sped along the cloud roads
That were darkened by their whiteness
One from loneliness to loneliness
No milestone or light
Save glimpses of their wind-shaped lands
Cloud mountains and storm canyons
Flat hillocked sheets a rolling plain
With not a sea in sight

And then those lands in which I tread
(Intruding there, I onward sped)
Lose form and turn to wisps again,
Envelop me within the plain
Though, steel-bound, I'll not be part
Of it - as still I onward dart

I sped along the cloud roads
Where journey's ends a memory,
To be clung to in the lost blank world
The windowscape of white
And lost in journey's wisps and hills
I pass by loves and plans and pasts
That fade like words in cloudmist
As I poise my pen to
The duke, the wanderer, the philosopher, the mariner, the warrior, the strategist, the storyteller, the wizard, the wayfarer...

Jubal

  • Megadux
    Executive Officer
  • Posts: 26804
  • Karma: 116
  • Awards Awarded for oustanding services to Exilian!
    • View Profile
    • Awards
Re: Jubal's poems
« Reply #227 on: December 23, 2018, 11:30:53 AM »
Yet another in the "poems on planes" niche, this one from a dragging and disrupted journey from Vienna back to Norfolk:

Peppermint Tea

I sip
Cramped, buckled,
Backached and homebound

I sip
Paper-cupped, water barely warm
But I sip
Half dreaming, a fifth awake,
Glow-trapped, outside dark-bound.

I sip
Here I sip, I can do no other
And a part of a part of my ache
Shifts under a once-fresh scent

So again

I sip
Cramped, buckled
It brings no revelation
Just a familiar taste
That settles into my half-dreams

I sip
So I can use
This glow-trap
For pen-scrawled letters
Until the memory fades
And what is left then?

Not even
Peppermint tea.
The duke, the wanderer, the philosopher, the mariner, the warrior, the strategist, the storyteller, the wizard, the wayfarer...

Jubal

  • Megadux
    Executive Officer
  • Posts: 26804
  • Karma: 116
  • Awards Awarded for oustanding services to Exilian!
    • View Profile
    • Awards
Re: Jubal's poems
« Reply #228 on: December 29, 2018, 11:08:19 AM »
A Fear of Falling

I awake
And the name twined around my lips and dreams
Is an unfamiliar one
Tangles hardly seen wrap and weave around my memory
And for all the comfort of being enclosed, I am afraid
Beyond all fear.

And I look down from the battlements
Up, too, at the tangles in a tangled sky
Around this fortress I built
On its cliff-edge
Me, imprisoned inside
And my fear of hopes without

I look down from the battlements
Where the cliffs plunge
Seas batter rocks in showers of foam
Comfortable foam that I could wrap myself in
If I just believed in this jump,
Just imagined gravity would abandon and free me.

But instead, I awake
And back away from the soft tangles and the ledge over emptiness
Relieved at fear's victory, I try and edge my toe back from the battlements
And it resists
Of course.
The duke, the wanderer, the philosopher, the mariner, the warrior, the strategist, the storyteller, the wizard, the wayfarer...