Andalus' poetry

Started by Andalus, August 12, 2009, 02:17:57 PM

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Andalus

Life Cycle

A world of circles and spinning spheres,
A circle returning us to our oldest fears.
An earth, a globe, that teems with life,
Turning in circles, returning us to strife.
As we turn away from the previous day,
And approach the new dawn in an ever new way,
The world picks us up, ands spins us around,
And we find that we are treading the same old ground.
The same ground that we walked, through the days and years,
And though we find new smiles, we are met by old tears.
Like the orbit of the world past the glowing sun,
As we move ever onwards, we have only begun,
And we meet that same spot, that we once knew well,
The hate and the love and the passions felt.
Though with new feet we walk, in a circle we tread,
Down the well known path are we always led,
And as I find myself faced with faces new,
I find that they have come in a circle, too.
Du bist kein Schmetterling! Du bist nur eine kleine Raupe in Verkleidung!

Jubal

Your poetry is actually amazing. I can't really say much more, as I'm too busy reading it. Then re-reading it.
The duke, the wanderer, the philosopher, the mariner, the warrior, the strategist, the storyteller, the wizard, the wayfarer...

Andalus

Nuance

There is a difference between obsession and loyalty.
A difference between cliche and truth.
A difference between dalliance and patience.
A difference between me and you.

There is a difference between hatred and objection.
A difference between weakness and grace.
A difference between greed and ambition.
A difference, a time, and a place.
Du bist kein Schmetterling! Du bist nur eine kleine Raupe in Verkleidung!

Andalus

Footprints

I looked behind, to see you, son,
As we walked along the shore,
And as you followed along the path I walked,
I smiled at what I saw.
For you stepped along, with your tiny feet,
And left your steps behind,
Walking in my footprints,
As our tracks were both combined.
I laughed at that, for as I looked,
I saw another boy in another time,
Who followed his father's footprints,
As you now followed mine.

And as I remembered and smiled there, son,
You gazed up with a frown,
Wanting to know what was the joke,
And why I'd turned around.
Don't worry, son, I told you then,
As we stood there by the bay.
When you are grown with your own child,
You'll know why I smile, one day.
As you walk together by the sea,
Maybe then you'll understand,
Why I smile to see you follow
My footprints in the sand.

I am old now, son, and close to death,
But you have grown bold and strong.
And though my voice will be heard no more,
You will carry on my song.
Now go down to the beach, my son,
And see there what you find.
Will you see where I followed my father's steps?
Or where you followed in mine?
They are gone now, son, but listen well,
And perhaps you'll understand,
That as long as we live to pass on our love,
There'll be footprints in the sand.
Du bist kein Schmetterling! Du bist nur eine kleine Raupe in Verkleidung!

Andalus

Tears of Crimson

She knelt beside me weeping tears, of blood and bitter grief,
For war that held no mercy, no kindness, nor relief.
Her sorrows flowed in streams of crimson,
Pooling red upon the ground.
Red like the dawn that rose over wailing all around.
Red like the broken heart within her breast, that cried out for no more.
Red like the eternal fires of hell's damnation.
Damn war.

What is war, she asked of me, that it must conquer all?
Why can love never prevail over death's bloody pall?
I could find no answer for her then,
I could see no reason why.
Why for the selfish plans of one, thousands more must die.
Why the waves of death must find their way, to crash on every shore.
Why hearts must burn, like the fires of damnation.
Damn war.

Beside her shattered home she knelt, among the nameless dead,
With nothing left to live or die for, her tortured tears still bled.
No one else to see her suffering,
As her last breath went unmourned.
No one else there to see the crown of sadness she adorned.
No one there who knew her name as she perished on the humble floor,
No one to rail at the servants of damnation.
Damn war.

I left that place in silent grief, my heart rent clean in two,
And realised why peace never stayed, and war was always born anew.
Why loving souls were left forgotten,
Their tears of crimson spilt.
Blame those whose veins hold murder, yes, and revel in their guilt,
Yet blame too every broken promise, and every word we do not speak.
Blame heaven's gates for being too high.
Damn war?
Damn love, for being too weak.
Du bist kein Schmetterling! Du bist nur eine kleine Raupe in Verkleidung!

Andalus

Waves

Tonight was a good night.
I sat by the sea, gazing at the ripples in its cold, dark waters,
While the orange heat of the fires warmed my back,
A perfect harmony of opposites.
I sat by the sea, with the waves sweeping in at my feet,
As my thoughts rolled back and forth with the tide.
I sat by the sea, and dreamt.
I dreamt of the stars above,
Still shining amidst a sky lit with celebration.
I dreamt of forgotten memories,
Countless, like the grains of sand that flowed between my fingertips,
Like water.
A sea breeze brushed against my chilled face,
And I dreamt of all the lives that brush against mine,
From every dawn until every dusk.
And as the circle of the moon watched from the midnight sky,
I sat by the sea, and dreamt.
For tonight was a good night.
I can only dream of tomorrow.
Du bist kein Schmetterling! Du bist nur eine kleine Raupe in Verkleidung!

Andalus

Praise to Stalin

I wrap myself tightly in this white blanket,
I pray for sleep.
Lost on the new path to an old death,
Dying with every moment,
Every breath.

Too long have I been smothered in the scarlet banner,
Praying for release.
Lost in the motherland so free,
With the strength of brotherhood,
Crushing me.

I stare at the sun's rays above, searching for the gods,
I pray for an end.
Lost, the least among equals,
An even division of struggles,
Unbreakable.

I hear the orchestra playing, a hymn to the divine,
Praying to Stalin.
Lost, tired of the music,
Deafened by the joy,
Of freedom.

I wrap myself in this white blanket of snow,
And pray for sleep.
Lost among the scarlet fences around me,
Keeping me here, singing,
Praises to Stalin.
Du bist kein Schmetterling! Du bist nur eine kleine Raupe in Verkleidung!

CN2

Nuance: I love this poem :) 'Nuff said.

The others and brilliant too, but that one in particular stands out for some reason.
CN2's song of the decade? - Heavy glow - Hot mess

Andalus

Haikus are stupid
They are just too ****ing short
And don't even rhyme
Du bist kein Schmetterling! Du bist nur eine kleine Raupe in Verkleidung!

Jubal

The duke, the wanderer, the philosopher, the mariner, the warrior, the strategist, the storyteller, the wizard, the wayfarer...

CN2

CN2's song of the decade? - Heavy glow - Hot mess

Andalus

New Year

This was the year you took my heart in your hand,
And the year you gave me yours,
The year I first flew to set foot in your land,
And the year you hailed my shores.
When the clock strikes midnight this year of ours
Will be closed behind history's door.
But memories stay with us past the twelfth hour,
And this year will bring us more.
Du bist kein Schmetterling! Du bist nur eine kleine Raupe in Verkleidung!

comrade_general


Andalus

Silence

Now, no more do I hear that voice, a voice I never heard,
Though once I thought I felt the whisper,
Of silence speaking in my ear.
And still I live without the choice, a choice I never made,
Though once I know I felt the longing,
To let silence speak and end my fears.

I never took a bow to an audience of none,
Or gave a final show to an absent crowd.
Never laid in wait to then surprise the oncoming applause,
Of a scream to see a silent head then bowed.
Du bist kein Schmetterling! Du bist nur eine kleine Raupe in Verkleidung!

Andalus

Urban Steelworks

Steel railings, steel chairs,
Steel faces, empty stares.
The hard click of quick feet swiftly marching by,
Nervous haste driving fear to avoid my eye,
To avoid my gaze and that of yours,
Our smiles not locked by steel doors.
The finest, dullest steel that man (or woman) can create,
Lavished with the colour of covers, bright drapes.
Hiding that hard steel which sets me apart,
In the open isolation of a coffee house yard.
Sitting here watching the sullen steel go by,
Dressed up in playclothes, though they'll never know why.
Du bist kein Schmetterling! Du bist nur eine kleine Raupe in Verkleidung!