andrew149 Poetry (264)

A year on........
Once again, the Viking stood by the open window space,
Watching the Valkries ride the clouds against a thunder black sky, locked in a deathly race.
The darkness that is Myrkewood, in the corner lurked, darker black on shadow black,
He reached up, swung shutter shut and covered with heavy cloth curtain sack,
Wolf....Regarded him with worried eyes,
The wind now picking up, beginning to whistle from previous gentle sighs,
Behind Vikings' deep blue eyes, a darkening mood, a darkening colour, as black, as Myrkewood black......
That matched the stormy skies.
He thought of his son, regarded faithful Wolf, the position of himself,
The Sword, Golden Shield, and Silver Battle Axe, that started to rattle on the high wall shelf,
That rattled more and more every time his son came near,
Yes.....All too soon his son would be grown, these battle hardened relics own....
He wiped at an unseen threatening tear,
A slight wetness transferred to the back of his hand,
His mind went back unwillingly to that foreign land,
That is Now and yet.....Another time, another place.
Wolf....Whimpered in sympathy,
The shadow black of Myrkewood now reflected in Vikings' eyes and face,
Wolf's whimper changing too, to a low almost inaudible howl.....
Bared teeth, then.....Full blown growl,
Viking reached out, stroked his head, calm now, both immersed in a pool of empathy.
Both had been.....Both had seen,
And now....So that Odin will not the Viking berate,
He must, as promised educate......
His son....Odin's son, will learn all as Viking will truthfully relate.
He wished he didn't have to.....Not yet....
Not Yet!
But then........On the great Lodge door......
The first gentle knock.....
So....to this chapter.....Another small part in the story, forerunner, to the inevitable epic outcome that is Ragnorok......
An event that will shake Valhalla, Heaven and Earth.......To it's very core!

Hey you, with the wind in your hair,
Throw caution away,
Have not a care,
Face the wind,
You'll not now be bettered,
Gone are the chains that had you fettered.
So, now you're free,
what'll you do?
Though you'll never forget when you used to scream 'til blue,
Remember...
It gets better every day,
You made yourself right,
You made them pay,
So, now just chill,
Smile...Bear no ill will,
Everyone knows you're no fool,
You showed them all,
The victory's yours.....Now, seize the day!

Life.....Inside a box, or, is it two?
Wondering....Just which is which of me,
Who is who?
Brittle silence, the heavy velvet cloak of night,
The stillness....Massive,
Deprived of sight,
A....Different kind of dark....
Do you feel it too?

A human being on the brink,
A heart opened,
A heart broken,
A frozen anguished moment, too painful to think.

Hands clasped to each side of face,
Imaginary fingers in imaginary ears,
Mouth and eyes wide, streaming invisible tears,
A sister spirit, certified, petrified, mental case.

So worried of the “Disease” you see,
He caught in brush strokes her tormented soul,
Reflected in empty eyes, blacker than coal
Afraid he too had inherited the family insanity.

All against red sunset backdrop seen,
Heard....
A Haunting..... Deafening......Silent.......
S C R E A M!

To be able to paint with words,
Or write, the speed of light,
To describe the beautiful birth of a star,
In the velvet sky, at night,
To give an honest account,
Of how an eagle soars gracefully in flight,
To know what really is,
The gift of second sight,
And…
To explain love and death but truly,
In a nutshell, every poets plight.

Echoing through the Dwarf’s cave, clanging and banging,
Silver and rare earth metals, with every strike, between hammer and anvil twanging,
The Smith worked away,
On heavy anvil, or tapping on fine bench, night and day,
Never seeing daylight from this cave, hid away in Myrkwood,
Methods hidden from prying eyes, many would steal them, if they could,
Caressing the ore, lutetium, silver, osmium, iridium,
Chanting now, almost in delirium,
A handful of this or that, some other, the lot,
Across the hearth, into melting pot,
At a temperature so high,
A human, if close, would surely die,
And when all was melted and smelted,
Into ingot, spelled upon and with half the Magick melded,
Then more Magick, into living spring water dipped,
To make sure all is right with it now, with tongue licked,
Hammered and shaped, then one more heating and lick,
Last shaping then, more heat and into dragons spittle dip,
Whereupon it turned black,
Then with Magick polishing cloth, chanting, rubbing, for many hours, forward and back
A sword then for a God fit!
If he can do a bargain…..If the God can afford it,
Volund the dwarf, Master Smith, laughed to himself,
And gently placed it next to a magnificent silver battle axe, on the rock shelf.

In pools of changing hue,
Rippling halo’s of reflected street lights,
Through curtains of rain,
Your eyes sparkling blue.
Just standing there in the wind’s restlessness,
An oasis of calm before the storm,
Watching the dark clouds against a black sky,
Exuding intoxicating peacefulness.
Your gentle voice flies against the breeze,
Calling me,
Across the miles,
Brought to me on the whisperings of trees.
Not lonely but alone,
Ever constant in my mind,
A miracle, just for being,
Always you, my love, my “Home”.

I remember...
Hair like rapids on a quiet stream,
Eyes like tranquil pools, so deep I could not see,
You, were a poem of a storm upon a quiet breeze,
Yet, your presence only gently rustled the leaves,
Through boat wires you sang your song,
As if to another place you might belong,
Your voice so low, with every wave upon the shore,
Not heard, yet strangely felt to my core,
You are here?......I know you are!
forever like the twinkling of a star,
You could not leave any more than I,
As sure as blue follows the night sky.
You will wait for me, I know you will,
And I....
Will always be here for you still.

A thousand steps,
Walking a crooked fence....
Of a sudden here he was,
An understatement of incongruous,
Feeling more than slightly ridiculous,
Still...Confused,
Though...Here he was,
Tired...Mentally bruised,
Yet....
Instead of stopping...Here he was,
Another thousand steps to count,
Still...Walking a crooked fence.

Out from long flowing green strands,
Like the softest silken locks,
Reaching above...The softest pair of hands,
Below... A toppled wall of broken building blocks,
At the edge, thrown from where HE stands,
She...Ready for the air that shocks,
One hand now stretched out toward,
Arbiter, leveler of men and stocks,
Legend...Excalibur....Sword

When I look into my imagination,
What I see defies explanation,
There are faeries and unicorns,
And giant beanstalks with thorns,
Fighting to expand an idealistic inner world,
Fighting against evil, squeezing from the outside,
Like a boa constrictor curled.
Shooting stars and a sinking moon,
In the ocean of my mind a submarine sun rising soon,
Over coral mountains,
Reflected in glittery magickal fountains,
Surrounded by flocks of flying fish,
Each one allowing me a single wish,
Through crystal clear waters, watching the evening light wane,
Weaving time, space and thought on this, that and another plane,
Yes, inside my head, can seem a confusing,
Yet wonderful and strange place to be,
But it’s where I like to be when I write,
Do you see?

I have navigated the windswept desert of my soul,
Fought untold battles in the valley of discontent,
Watching too as they turned to dust,
Pastures new, that I thought were heaven sent.

On the barren seas of my mind I warred,
Against the storm I raged,
Cursed the sand, the dying shadows of the sun,
With my face pressed against the bars that have me caged.

I salute you!

What an adversary you are, such a worthy foe,
But know this, I will fight until I win this war,
At every turn, at every battle, I will even the score,
Until you let me live the peace I long to know.