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Posts Tagged ‘literature’

paper graphic

you, empty pen,
useless stencil
piece of junk.

you owe me
a letter, a word
a sentence.

I devour every squirt
of ink leaked
by your golden tip.

we have an oath
and I will make sure
you play your part.

By that the pen quivered and shook
as a mighty splash of black poured forth,
“here: your letter, your word, your sentence,
have I given enough Fire? you crazy goose,
Have I burned your thoughts right out that mind,
If so, I beg…
No, I demand,
a corner to myself

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Faust graphic

*Imagined dialogue written for class

Lord:

Dear Faust, my servant and my child,
What have you here, written in blood?
Mephisto came to me earlier and smiled,
Knew human desires are like a flood,
Uncontrollable when once released,
as morality continue to quickly decrease.

Faust:

What do you will from me, great light?
Darkness burns me like fire these days;
How can Hell compare to Earth’s forever blight?
My soul is mine to fall or raise.

Lord:

In your head, there lies a thinking brain.
In your heart, little drummer boy plays.
And here, beneath my hand contain
Breath and spirit, worthy of praise.
Can you not feel it–the movement–
Of very muscle waking in the morn,
Walking on stones without ailment.
To you, have your wife and pupils sworn
like fixed stars guiding wayward sailors
Across a tempting sea of sirens,
What other pleasure do you prefer
Then the lovely hearts you’ve already won?

Faust:

Nothingness is the word I suffer,
No love or passion fills this bowl,
Nothing of the past is as they were.
I have become a hermit troll
Bustling around my stack of books,
In search for more, but finding less
than that of beggarly crooks–
I am in great distress.

Lord:

Do you seek wealth of fame?
Or something of less humanly claim?

Faust:

Yes! The second sings to my heart
And cause my mouth to grin.
Magic, sir, sweeter than any art
Inflames my passions from deep within.
I have hit a wall, yet found Mephisto,
A rope that will bear me along,
And allow my roots to once again grow
to the–dark–sun where I belong.
Knowledge is a fruit that I must taste,
Like Eve, my pale lips must embrace.

Lord:

And when another wall appears
after the first tree bears its fruit,
Will you sicken to its cheer
And seek another to pursue?
If there is none left to harvest
What spirit shall you charm next?
What needless price will you insist?
Are you not just a simple subject?
Learn to love and learn for peace,
Here is where my words shall cease.

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sidewalk

You give me too much credit–
“Hoard of dazzling scraps”
You flatter me too much,
Words are words     let be
Dash here–     Space there
Their meanings clear
yet you dress them    up
I am not
God.

My visions are woven words,
the heart must feel   if it should know
What message for the soul–

I am a poet      not a scholar
What you see in my works
Though flattered by a brain
I never knew I had

Asks too much
Receives too little
Read! for pleasure or for pain,
Dash here–    Space there
I
am
not
God

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