08-14-2006, 11:37 PM
Both poems are not quite yet in that state which I want them to be in; they're works in progress, rather. As I do not know when I'll be able to post again, though, I decided to post them now. The former was actually my first poem written for this community. If anyone ever finds any of my poems worthwhile enough to reproduce elsewhere on the internet, they may do so (with attribution).
27-07-06
When last I laid my weary head to rest,
I dreamed I saw a cat that played with zest
upon the sunny meadows of the park.
I summed it up in one astute remark:
“Now there's a proper, happy, healthy cat!”
(The elders on the bench agreed with that).
The cat's apparent owner looked estranged,
and suddenly, the lofty vision changed.
The vet had come to take the cat away
to be humanely put to sleep, they say.
Discarded like a broken, boring toy
by an indulgent spoiled and petty boy
as it would never fetch, or even bark
like all the other doggies in the park.
The elders shook their heads in dour dismay,
and calmly, quietly, faded away.
A cornered cat will claw, resist, will fight
for mere survival with a lion's might
Go thou and do likewise: be that lion
so that our movement's beautiful scion
will spawn a wondrous wood of oaks some day.
Then, sitting in its shade when old we'll say:
"the shade we sought is dense, the trees are steep,
now let us dream; in freedom let us sleep."
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Elegy
When parents wish a child would simply cease to be
my anger burns, my rage is like a savage storm at sea.
My anger turns to sorrow and my rage to grief:
I mourn the child, I rue the loss of bliss;
she'll hate herself for being who she is
(What's childhood, if not endless self discovery?).
My anger turns to sorrow and my rage to grief:
I mourn the passing of the parents too:
their life remains, their parenthood I rue
(What's parenthood if not unconditional love?).
Speravi
27-07-06
When last I laid my weary head to rest,
I dreamed I saw a cat that played with zest
upon the sunny meadows of the park.
I summed it up in one astute remark:
“Now there's a proper, happy, healthy cat!”
(The elders on the bench agreed with that).
The cat's apparent owner looked estranged,
and suddenly, the lofty vision changed.
The vet had come to take the cat away
to be humanely put to sleep, they say.
Discarded like a broken, boring toy
by an indulgent spoiled and petty boy
as it would never fetch, or even bark
like all the other doggies in the park.
The elders shook their heads in dour dismay,
and calmly, quietly, faded away.
A cornered cat will claw, resist, will fight
for mere survival with a lion's might
Go thou and do likewise: be that lion
so that our movement's beautiful scion
will spawn a wondrous wood of oaks some day.
Then, sitting in its shade when old we'll say:
"the shade we sought is dense, the trees are steep,
now let us dream; in freedom let us sleep."
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Elegy
When parents wish a child would simply cease to be
my anger burns, my rage is like a savage storm at sea.
My anger turns to sorrow and my rage to grief:
I mourn the child, I rue the loss of bliss;
she'll hate herself for being who she is
(What's childhood, if not endless self discovery?).
My anger turns to sorrow and my rage to grief:
I mourn the passing of the parents too:
their life remains, their parenthood I rue
(What's parenthood if not unconditional love?).
Speravi