Poets Corner

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Comment by raVen on December 9, 2009 at 8:28pm

To:
"raven lakins"
i am me
realizing what's mine
you, the listener
just might well find

you are drawn
to watch, to feel
and i, the example
encourage you to peel

the layers of stuckness
and anger and wrongs
you've carried and carry

into deep singing
a movement
a song

draw faster, release it
do not comprehend
release it, express it
its time will
then end...

Comment by TehWolf on November 30, 2009 at 4:13am

Morning everyone =)

Comment by x~*Felina*~x on October 5, 2009 at 5:19am

hello everyone!!!!

Comment by Lorax on November 11, 2008 at 6:16am

Thanx for the invite >:)

Comment by stonewolf on September 22, 2008 at 12:12am

HERE'S A POEM I WROTE.
HOPE U ENJOY IT.CALLED.........................................
CALL UPON DARKNESS


DARKENED EMOTIONS INFILTRATE LIFE’S GREATEST INTUITIONS.
WITHOUT DARK EMOTIONS ONE WOULD NEVER TRANSPIRE GREATNESS
OF LOVE OR LUST, TIL OUR DYING DAYS OF TIME ITSELF.

OUR OWN ANIMAL INSTINCTS UP HEAVE AS DARKNESS FALLS UPON
MOTHER EARTH, LIKE FALLEN STARS FROM THE CELESTIAL HEAVENS
ABOVE, TO THE FOUNDATIONS BELOW.

FOR THOSE WHOM RECOGNIZE THEIR TRUE ANIMAL INSTINCTS WILL
TRANSPIRE UNHUMAN POWER, STRENGTH, WISDOM, AND UNBELIEVABLE
KNOWLEDGE.

LIKE A WOLF TO IT’S PREY, FEAR EVACUATES OUR MIND AND BODY;
SPEED QUICKENS AS LIGHTNING REFLEXES FROM THUNDERCLOUDS.
FOR LET IT BE KNOWN THIS QUICKENING IS OUR TRUE ANIMAL
MENTALITY, BREAKING OUT TO LET US ENJOY LIFE; RELEASE STRESS
AND EMOTIONALLY RELAX.

SOME WOULD CALL THEIR INNER FAMILIAR, DARKNESS, OTHERS COR-
RESPOND WITH CELESTIAL ENLIGHTMENT.

FOR ONLY HE/SHE WHOM CALL UPON THEIR INNER BEAST CAN TRULY
LOVE OR LUST, HOLDING BACK NONE, AND GIVING ALL THEIR LOVE
OR LUSTFUL DESIRES.

SO, WITHOUT FURTHER PROCRASTINATION, CALL UPON THE WILD, FREE
THE DARKNESS, AND LIVE OUT YOU’RE DREAMS ONCE MORE.

WRITTEN BY;

MITCHELL (STONEWOLF) DALE RENFRO

Comment by Raven on September 2, 2008 at 9:00am

Though by no stretch of the imagination could I be called a bard I do love poetry.
Here are a couple that I particulary like:

Do not stand at my grave and weep.

Do not stand at my grave and weep;
I am not there. I do not sleep.
I am a thousand winds that blow.
I am the diamond glints in snow.
I am the sunlight in ripened grain.
I am the gentle autumn rain.
When you awaken in the mornings hush
I am the swift uplifting rush
Of quiet birds in circled flight.
I am the soft stars that shine at night.
Do not stand at my grave and cry;
I am not there. I did not die.
Anonymous


Leisure

What is this life if, full of care,
We have no time to stand and stare.

No time to stand beneath the boughs
And stare as long as sheep and cows.

No time to see, when woods we pass,
Where squirrels hide their nuts in grass.

No time to see, in broad daylight,
Streams full of stars, like stars at night.

No time to turn at Beauty's glance,
And watch her feet, how they can dance.

No time to wait till her mouth can
Enrich that smile her eyes began.

A poor life this if, full of care,
We have no time to stand and stare.
William Henry Davies

Comment by Jonathan on August 26, 2008 at 8:17pm

The Kiss

What smouldering senses in death's sick delay
Or seizure of malign vicissitude
Can rob this body of honour, or denude
This soul of wedding-raiment worn to-day?
For lo! even now my lady's lips did play
With these my lips such consonant interlude
As laurelled Orpheus longed for when he wooed
The half-drawn hungering face with that last lay.
I was a child beneath her touch, a man
When breast to breast we clung, even I and she,
A spirit when her spirit looked through me,
A god when all our life-breath met to fan
Our life-blood, till love's emulous ardours ran,
Fire within fire, desire in deity.

Dante Gabriel Rosetti

Comment by Druidstaff on August 11, 2008 at 5:18am

Machas Daughter
VENGENCE

She braided her red hair with what she bought
And when she was done a weapon was wrought
With care she drew upon herself the ancient signs
The swirls and spirals in deep blue lines

Her bodice and kilt of leather with steel adorned
She girded tightly about her form
And from her belt by its braided lace
Hung her choice of weapon, her deadly mace

Now through the woods in the deepening night
She made her way, her cloak held tight
For none must see who to the church doth come
It is the Priest who must pay the were-guild sum

There it stands the stones gray in the Mothers light
Through its windows candles glow against the night
She slips through the doors and there he kneels
Pleading to his God to ease his burden and to heal

Above the altar the cross senses her and screams
To be released back to the streams
For this Priest had ordered the sacred Oak cut
And made into a cross as a trophy lot




For that a price, but she comes for a Sisters life
He had cursed her as she suffered the fires strife
He turns and sees her a question forms on his lips
It freezes as she lets the cloak to floor slip

For you have I come, she says raising her mace
He throws curses to banish her from this place
Calling on his God to cast down fire upon her
Thunder rolled the doors burst in, but no fear

Hold daughter! A great voice roared
In the doorway stood Macha of the bloody sword
Her red eyes glowed as She looked at the man
He quavered, grew sallow and looked like sand

With a look at her daughter she pointed
No Oak of ours should be so anointed
With the energy of the stones and the Tree
The cross began to fights its way free

Down it fell on the grief stricken Priest
With such force that his head flew off like a leaf
Macha looked with pride at the Ban Droai
It is time daughter to be away

Comment by Druidstaff on August 10, 2008 at 8:47am

Thank you Lady Anastasia for the invite but I'm trying to figure out why you invite an old hack like me to play with the bards

Comment by papaed on August 9, 2008 at 5:27pm

I'm new to Poets Corner, but not new to writing poetry. While surfing through PaganMystics Community I've been inspired to leave this:

Bigotry.............................

I sat and watched the
big-o-tree
astounded
amazed
and angry

what appeared
so clear to me
was not so clear
to big-o-tree

rooted and stationary
sun/self absorbed
its capillary brain
with reasoning deficiency
its nutrient depleting
with seasonal dependency

its heat-driven
unconcern
for unfixed
indifferent
attitudes of
who needs others
when
always right
and
never left

warm air
its only
positive product

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