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Heartbeat Road

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Tiger of Wu
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Alle
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Post by Alle Mon May 25, 2009 7:43 pm

Heartbeat Road

This thread will host the growing collection of poetry I have tentatively titled Heartbeat Road. I went back and edited some older posts so that each poem, with the exception of the first two, have their own post. I would like to accurately reflect how much poetry I have written and I try and keep count. /nerd

You're feedback is always appreciated! Constructive criticism, even more so. Thanks for reading!

- Alle

Edge

(a villanelle)

We breathe, eyes closed, our lungs expand.
Standing, the thin air thick with brine
at the edge of the rooftop, holding hands.

Our muscles hunger for ambrosia banned -
Veins hum with static and fresh plum wine.
We breathe, eyes closed, our lungs expand.

You lead our dance, our leaps and lands
and happy circles. You are warm, arms in line,
at the edge of the rooftops, holding hands.

It rains and we laugh. I never plan
our secret celebrations, patchwork time.
We breathe, eyes closed, our lungs expand.

We are drenched, brimming, and yet we stand
uncovered. I glow, if your rain is also mine
at the edge of the roof, holding hands.

Lightning is born and we are the sand,
waiting to be glass, forever entwined.
We breathe, eyes closed, our lungs expand
at the edge of the roof, holding hands.


Heartline

(a triolet)

I watch the window for our secret sign:
cardboard hearts on fishing hooks
suspended on wire, from the midnight sky.
I watch the window for our secret sign,
cut and painted. No complex design
is needed. My heart is the thing you took
the balmy night when I first looked
at cardboard hearts on fishing hooks.



...yep. For you. Star


Last edited by Alle on Wed Apr 25, 2012 10:20 pm; edited 1 time in total
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Post by Amano Murokumone Mon May 25, 2009 7:46 pm

The plane my soul exists on is endlessly moved and touched by this. It'll be impossible to ever - in our lifetime - explain how much this means, but I can try, and will try.

Thank you. XD
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Post by Alle Mon May 25, 2009 7:50 pm

Awww. You're just gonna make me explode one of these days. Then I'll be the first person even to die of happiness.

But I'd love for you to try. Should make for an interesting life. Wink
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Post by Nissadex Mon May 25, 2009 10:56 pm

Ahh, these are absolutely gorgeous..

Poetry is something I've always known I could do decently if I tried, but I never felt I had the talent to make a skill of it. And you, definitely, have the talent to make a skill of it. Even, dare I say, a mad skill.

My compliments to the writer. ;)
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Post by Tiger of Wu Sat May 30, 2009 1:08 pm

Beautiful. What more can I say? Just beautiful. I'm actually speechless. A rarity. Beautiful.
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Post by Alle Sat May 30, 2009 11:29 pm

The White Gate

(a rondeau for writers)

A paper cut will bleed ink in
circles of black in the marble sink,
bandaged quickly. My desk
is waiting in the other room. My quest
is timeless. I stand on the brink.

My brain is slow to broaden and think,
reaching over worlds to the land of the sphinx
and epic heroes, or the ill-wishing guest –
the key is on the page.

I build in words; the language to sync
my eyes with those ancient gods, some missing link.
Women of vines, unknown and statuesque:
I lure them to my realm, a piper possessed,
fearing they will be lost if I blink -
the key is on the page.


Last edited by Alle on Wed Apr 25, 2012 10:17 pm; edited 1 time in total
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Post by Rust Wed Jun 03, 2009 7:47 pm

Deserves to go into books, without a doubt.

Start submitting stuff D=
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Post by Retribution Wed Jun 17, 2009 9:53 pm

You, m'lady, shame that which I called poetry before this...revelation, this maddening display of skill. I congratulate you on your excellent work and impatiently await more.
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Post by Alle Tue Jun 23, 2009 6:19 pm

Purple Place

Poetry in Blue

When I met you at the purple place,
where our paths met and lingered
there passed the bitter anniversary
of our first falling. My darling.

Never have I weathered days so blue
since the day I lost you.

I’d seen you since – across the room,
behind the cold counter. Yet never
did we exchange words. They stayed
our separate treasures.

Never have I kept so much in my head
since the day you left my bed.

Now there are no lights or noise
to shelter the holes in my heart.
I felt the world spin and knew that
despite what transpired, holes were constant.

Never have the planets ceased in space
for lonely hearts in the purple place.
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Post by Alle Wed Apr 25, 2012 10:16 pm

Skin

A Ballad of Statues

I am alone, naught but heart and stone
Except for the dust which covers my skin
Dreams are whispers, naught but air and vapors
Carried off in the cool November wind

I am the soul who could not control
The fear of moving around the bend
Upon this seat, trapped, and meek
I sat when the gorgons did descend

With blood-red eyes, they sought their prize
Naught from their spell could I defend
Upon this chair, I froze, now heir
To the thorny gardens before the bend

My eyes are roving, dry and tearing
Watching the life beyond me begin
I am the ghost in the cold gray host
Trapped from the sunlight deep within

My friends they tread, my friends they fled
Carried off in the cool November wind
I am alone, naught but heart and stone
Except for the dust which covers my skin
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Post by Alle Wed Apr 25, 2012 10:17 pm

Sunny Afternoon

A Pantoum for the Quiet

My vision is speckled with spots from the light
shining through the pines. In my repose
the heat soothes. The sun is bright
across my skin. Life is mine to compose.

Through the pines, in my repose,
quicksilver birds cast shadows of flight
across my skin. Life is mine to compose
until my freedom is blanketed in night.

Quicksilver birds cast shadows of flight.
Time is limited in my stolen doze.
My freedom will be lost in the night
and clouds, unless time froze.

Time is ticking in my stolen doze.
My vision is speckled with spots of light
and fleeting rainbows, wishing time froze
the heat, as soothing as the sun is bright.
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Post by Alle Wed Apr 25, 2012 10:17 pm

Footprints

(an acrostic for the restless)

Hardship shadows the footprints I leave
on the road. I’ve long forsaken their disappearance.
Miles are marked in my sore bones,
each ache a memory of time spent
laughing, chasing or running
away. Constantly I am fixated on the
new grounds around the bend, in search of that
dreamy place, where I can stop walking.
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Post by Alle Wed Apr 25, 2012 10:22 pm

Artist

Free Verse


I can hear
My messes screaming in harmony
to an electric rhythm.

Here
I write old masterpieces

on a smeared canvas,
full of raw passion and

empty wild time.

But never junk.
Only surreal pictures

and breaking music.
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Post by The Masked Man Wed Apr 25, 2012 10:30 pm

Sunny Afternoon is extremely, and delightfully, reminiscent of romanticism. It's my favorite so far, absolutely. Beautiful.
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Post by Alle Wed Apr 25, 2012 10:59 pm

Canvas

An Acrostic

Heartbeat Road Starry_starry_night-2

Some days find me brightened,

taking solitude with an easy smile

as I guide myself through hidden streets,

rough and disorienting. Yet sometimes I 

remember, and like a bitter-violet shadow

you appear.

Spirals of orange and yellow-gold pepper
the strange fleeting memories that

are all I have left. In sadness my heart
ripostes against my doubts. I will never
reach the village if I am burdened with

your mien.



Nights are too grand to witness in solitude
in the light of the crescent moon 

grand and alone in the painted sky. I wonder

how long I can last on the canvas without
the warmth of your hand.

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Post by Alle Wed Apr 25, 2012 11:00 pm

Dance of Three

A Triad

Four thousand suns weave His cloak.

Shed in waves a yellow-gold seed

falls like stars. The ground is soaked.

Yellow-gold stars drop into Her womb,

rippling unseen. Swaddled in moonlight
we are weaned on beauty, the world in bloom.



A bed of fire is Its throne. There It reclines, seeing all, 

knowing more. Time and Fate are an entwined scale,

dipping and swaying, a thundering call.
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Post by Alle Wed Apr 25, 2012 11:03 pm

Hearts Crossing Somewhere

A Poem in Free Verse

Somewhere down this road

Down the sun-baked railroad tracks

Somebody searches for me



Across the broken bridge

In the endless maze of concrete streets

A heart is looking for me



I cross the vastest sea

Through the crowded city streets

To find the lonely star that hides

The heart that waits for me



But I am scared of water
of heights, ladders, doors

And I have no boat to cross the sea

Stranded in the sunset dim

Yet I know somewhere he looks for me

As I look for him



But I might never climb the walls

Or learn how to swim

I might let my life pass by 

Waiting here for him

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Post by Alle Wed Apr 25, 2012 11:05 pm

Yama no Yuuho (Mountain Walk)

Haiku and Tanka


The lost sun paints

mountains blue and grey

effervescent 



Soft pink petals

shaded in the night
gilded gold

in the lantern light as

I wander to your grave

Two eagles fly high

gold and silver in the sky

invincible

For Norad. Star
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Post by Alle Wed Apr 25, 2012 11:07 pm

Flump

An Acrostic

Falling to the mattress, snuggled in your arms,
Life slows to span the space between two unhurried breaths.
Under the soft covers, warmed by the touch of
My nose to your own, I can escape the
Passage of time.
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Post by The Masked Man Wed Apr 25, 2012 11:21 pm

. . .wander to your grave. . .oh, I get it! You want me dead!

I kid. Your verse is beautiful, though. I'm not typically a fan of modern styles, but you manage to combine the new with a sort of oldish charm and it just entrances me. I really see a lot of romantic influence in your work, which may be because its there or because I loved that era so much I see it everywhere. In either case, it's wonderful.

I even like your acrostic, and I usually think very poorly of such things.

The poetry I've been reading is universal in a good way. The images you evoke are familiar to me, even though I've never lived them exactly. This is a very, very good thing.
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Post by Alle Wed Apr 25, 2012 11:29 pm

The Masked Man wrote:. . .wander to your grave. . .oh, I get it! You want me dead!

I kid. Your verse is beautiful, though. I'm not typically a fan of modern styles, but you manage to combine the new with a sort of oldish charm and it just entrances me. I really see a lot of romantic influence in your work, which may be because its there or because I loved that era so much I see it everywhere. In either case, it's wonderful.

I even like your acrostic, and I usually think very poorly of such things.

The poetry I've been reading is universal in a good way. The images you evoke are familiar to me, even though I've never lived them exactly. This is a very, very good thing.

Thanks! I am a huge fan of romantic era poetry (not literature, just poetry.) I am hugely fond of contemporary poets who evoke that style, Mary Oliver being the primary and most beloved.

It might seem familiar because I write about stuff that I see and feel, in a way that I hope other people who also see and also feel things might relate to. That's one of the beauties of poetry, I believe, just in the sense that images carry so much weight and mean things to different people, but if you use them correctly, you can evoke so much.
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Post by Alle Thu Apr 26, 2012 3:40 pm

Hold

Free Verse

The mother holds her baby close

beside the glass which holds back the rain


The father’s brow is sweaty as 

he toils for the shadow which holds the future


Again in timeless fashion the ground

holds seed

As the apple branch holds fruit


One man holds a promise, out of reach

of another who holds his hungering stomach


Time holds the years gone by, 
heated and chilled

The city holds the weight of damp concrete, and sighs


as I hold your hand,
crossing the street
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Post by Alle Thu Apr 26, 2012 3:42 pm

Motion Sickness

A Villanelle

She is the girl with the dreams in her head
Watching the world with tranquil eyes
Afraid of the sun, and in love with her bed

With no destination, she wanders misled;
Shadows mock as she stumbles by -
“There goes the girl with the dreams in her head.”

The smallest fall and courage has fled
leaving her bruised and asking, “Why?”
Afraid of the answer, and wanting her bed.

Ambition departed, her appetite fled.
She survives on salt and sighs,
That ghost of a girl with the dreams in her head.

Bent with the burden of things unsaid,
A spinal curve that thwarts the attempt to fly,
She is glued to the earth and chained with her bed

The sun is warm and the clouds have fled,
Yet static she sleeps, her thoughts run dry
For she is the girl with the dust in her head
Afraid of motion, who rots in her bed
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Post by Alle Thu Apr 26, 2012 3:44 pm

Reality Missing

Inspired by a National Geographic article on the Lost City of Machu Picchu

We cross a rickety wooden bridge

over a mountain brook,

and pause to catch our breath.

Above us looms Nevado Salcontey,

revered as a god.

From the glaciers comes the water, giving life.
I remove my fleece vest,

under a clear blue sky lingering

above the tree line before plunging

into forested canyons.
Machu Picchu – the Lost City.

Lost to the world for four hundred years.

Our guide knows the impact –
“Here they find another world,”

he tells me, 

“a reality they were missing.”
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Post by Alle Thu Apr 26, 2012 3:45 pm

Simplicity

if only it could be so simple

When we’re together in the dark
it’s enough to hear you breathe,
and hear your heart beneath my cheek.
When we’re together in the dark
my heart shudders. An electric arc
unifies, and you are all I need seek.
When we’re together in the dark,
it’s enough to hear you breathe
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