'Tis I

'Tis I, wailing in the halls
As the Earth turns, yet unmoved
By my noises.

'Tis I, baying and raging at the moon,
Its eternal face, as yet unmoved
By repentant rebellion.

'Tis I, quivering in the silence,
As night clouds scud by, yet unmoved
By my shaking.

'Tis I, drifting leaf about the cavity of my soul,
As she turns and slips into night, unmoved
By my disquiet.

My most ancient of friends, your work never ceases to amaze me, you will no doubt stun and amaze many people here. Good luck and welcome to the Forum. :lol:

Still

And still, they come out
When I'm hip deep in contentment
Or staring into Beauty

Still, they come out
Even as I smile, laugh, release
And let go, stretching the limbs of Freedom

And still they come out
Running circles around me, mocking
And even ignoring them seems to bring me down

Still, they come out
Even when I'm wide eyed, lucid and hopeful
Giving my all and clawing my way out

Relentlessly, they come out
From wherever within me they dwell,
Do their thing, and vanish as suddenly

No explanation, no reason, no motive
But simply to exist for that brief interim
Between the time it is still
And when they come out.

Wow... Nice to see a friend of Perry's is as talented as he is, though I expected this much. Your poetry is absolutely amazing, I can very much relate to them... More so recently. Please, post more... And welcome to the boards. :)

*smiles softly and says nothing* My words could not give yours the response nor acclamation they rightly deserve. Truly awe-inspiring, Baron. That you and Perry both have so much talent is amazing. I suppose it's that old adage, "Birds of a feather..." Glad to see you here and I'm looking forward to reading more.

Wow ... I am quite speechless. Your poetry should be in the same league as that of William Shakespeare, T.S. Elliot and so forth. Truly breathtaking creations, definitely some of the best work I've ever seen in my entire life. If you really did write these, Baron Ilmarinen Draugr, you deserve much commendation, much more than any of us mortals can give.

*nods in awe* Yes, yes, amazing stuff. Well done and please keep writing!

*Leafs gently thru the fragile parchment pages of his tome, his fine pale fingers moving with eternal patience and care, until, after a moment to consider, he leaves it open upon a podium for all to read ... turns and slips into shadow*

Untitled

We sit among the shadows
In the corners of a world
In pain, holding the foundations
Of a promised world
In our fear-palsied palms
Like fragile Roman candles;
Flame glistening on our
Stone-still pose, silent faces,
Frozen white eyes, dripping with dew,
In moonlit hues, as the night resounds
With chills of eternal passions spent
And the stellar sparkle of hope,
Already dead, its source, our hope,
Dead, yet its light glows still,
As we sit, here, in the frail of darkness,
The ancestral whispers of human hearts
In the echoes of our souls...

Exceptional work as always my friend, perhaps one day you'll sit long enough in one spot for us to do one together? *chuckles*

*smirks*

perhaps if you were to leave some raw material by my desk i shall see to collaborating on it when Time permits ...

damn you kick ass.

cheers mate.

*a wisp of a grin betrays his presence amongst the proceedings, glinting in the darkness as he watches the damned ones purge their creative urges with creativity and blood. emerging into the half-light, his eyes distant as though deep in afterthought, he pauses by the pupit and gazes sidelong at his Tome - a single fine, pale finger upon his bearded chin. a slight glance to the burgeoning garden of art; swathed in black, his white hand floats to the yellowed pages - a delicate crinkle of parchment; a suppressed shudder and another spared glance; a nod, a spin on his heel ... slips into shadow*

( Regret ) On Dying Bed

My destiny approaches
In rain and in white light

With storm clouds sailing swiftly
Into the violet night.

I feel its breath so near now
As Death's wind gives a chill ...

But I warm to your eyes and
My beating heart grows still.

Epiphanies striking as
Father Time tolls His bell.

So now I’m seeing clearly -
Earth was Heaven, not Hell.

Old surfacing insights cry
As dying skin turns blue

'Twas not the you that scared me ...
‘Twas the me - in you.

i must say you are one of the most amazing writers because you stun me with every work and that's something very few or possibly none can do.

you are indeed most welcome ...

glad to still be of some use ...

Ilmarinen.

Oh, wow. Simply amazing. There are no words that would do yours justice. Thank you for sharing them.

*folds his arms about himself, his eyes on the time-darkened page* ... "quaint" perhaps ... *smirks* ... or, more accurately, "heavily edited second draft" ...

nonetheless, you are welcome

Ilmarinen.

*slips silently from the shadows to stand beside Ilmarinen with a light smile on her pale lips as she reaches up to place a purple rose with silver edges behind his ear*

Wonderful as always Dearest One. I look forward to seeing more of your writings.

*reaches up and touches the petals thoughtfully, brings away a drop of blood from whence a thorn did scratch his scalp - the hair that once softened their cruel touch now but a ghost of a memory ... tastes the blood and sighs lightly*

my thanks, dear one. 'tis good to see thee again. perhaps we shall be graced with your own scrawlings? i did rather like those ...

*places a red rose in her hair, its colour seeming to run like blood, he smiles and slips into shadow*

Draugr

beautiful and stunning works. Welcome to the forum. If you ever have time, please visit my thread, "Work of MistressT" thank you for sharing your skills, and I hope to read more.

>Mistress T<

Nay, quaint is not nearly good enough a word for it; it hardly even approaches the truth. Perhaps beautiful as an antique that is worn from having been through so much, but all the more beautiful for that very reason. Darkly euphonious. Dauntingly awe-inspiring, with still the capability to bring about a smile--no matter how disheartening the subject. Simply amazing.

*kisses her fingertips and touches them softly to his cheek*

*A shadow of a smile upon her lips, she bows and fades away*

*nods and bows politely*

the first two were supposedly published in print and audio thru poetry.com ... the third didnt make the grade ... the last has never been viewd before this ...

perhaps the pages will speak again soon

Draugr

*smiles thoughtfully after reading his wonderful work*

Indeed amazing, causing thought... I feel I relate to you, Draugr... Perhaps one day I shall be able to find it in myself to portray it like you do.

I know one thing, poetry like this does not come from anywhere shallow, Truly inspiring and gives me some...shall we say, hope for my writting, and the little reminder that I am not alone... Always nice to have such a comfort in fact.

Enjoy yourself, and I will definately be checking in for more of your beauty.

*curtsies politely before wandering off*

Baron Ilmarinen Draugr, your work is truly amazing. My words will not do you or your work justice. You're work is beautiful and I find each one facinating. I really could put down words upon words that mean wonderful, emotional, etc, but none of them would be good enough for your work. I am taken aback and I hope you do post more. *smiles*

SweetNightmares

intresting and quite amzing my friend. I am trully in awe. 'Tis you at poetry's door waking them to see the light of what you write. I am most intrigued. Please keep writing, and post more.
~*Chaos*~

*A fay wind stirs the pages of the tome ... dust rises in a cloud from the pages flipping over in the breeze, settling as swiftly as it began. The page revealed is not quite as yellowed as the others.*

-This is the first real song I can say I wrote. Curiously, tho my prose is proliferate, my lyric writing has always struggled. Make of this what you will.
Draugr

SANDS OF TIME

VS1
Smoke billows in the cold sunrise
Fire embracing the fields of thyme
Where cold winds make lines
Of clouds with whispers that lie ...
She devours this heart of mine
Cuts me with her hair so fine
Leaves me bleeding on the dunes
Of the sands of time.

VS2
Blades swinging in the pale moonlight
Carry ancient prayers of life
Forsaken by a new regime
Buried in the legends that fade
In the sands of time.

BRIDGE
Look into the desert of the hourglass
Try to touch eternity with hearts that never last
Sorrowful the wanderer with no return
To the ancient pleasure of teh Eagle's urn.

REFRAIN
Shadowlands shimmering
With the touch of obsidian souls
Beckoning to the weakened ones
Cursing the veins of Time's flow
What I see cannot be
Still it sits in front of me
So slake my blade in mystic gore
I am nevermore ...

VS3
Gift of blood, Death in my eyes
Scourging the suffering lives - that sing
To a God who forged his throne from the glimmerings
Of the sands of time.

note - I am aware of a member here named ObsidianSoul. This song was written in 1999, and chance passing upon this member's name inspired me to post this.

Draugr.

Would make an excellent black metal song I would say. Good work and I hope to hear the music to accompany it sooner or later.

Really love your work Baron Ilmarinen Draugr. *smiles*

SweetNightmares

Really love your smile, Sweet Nightmares ...

*He turns to the pages, flipping gently, smoothing the page he has chosen with his palm and glances over it ... nods and slips into shadow*

Perhaps this may entice another ...

Untitled

I led my lover to the fields where the mists were heavy with memories. Amidst the bracken of a logger's field I lay her down in a circle of flowers red, yellow, white.

I led my lover to an ocean where the clouds above grazed on its reflective canvas, and we counted them like sheep until the sun burned their bodies through gold, pink, ash.

I led my lover to a fountain where flowed the jewels of life and death. I kissed her palm and she held it to the cascade. She retrieved a sliver of silver and as I draped it over her neck it became a lace of two snakes entwined, their tails in their mouths.

I led my lover to the edge of the world where possibility strained at our backs; only she could grow the wings to leave me standing there, a flower in my hand, a cloud at my back, a snake-bite at my throat ...

Mephistophicles - Sands of Time was recorded the year before, though with different lyrics and a longer second verse. If you would like I can compress the song and send it to you as an example, pending the final re-recording.

Ilmarinen.

Good stuff, great song and a *bump*

Thanks so much. *smiles again*

You're work is so incredible, I would say it is breath taking. But as I have mentioned before, my words will not do your work justice. I love all of your writing. Even when you are only speaking it sounds like poetry. I hope I get to see more of your work. You truly are amazing.

SweetNightmares

*quells his churning heart*

No, milady. Thank you - and again for two smiles in one night, for now I have the pleasure of the one being doubly honoured.

In concordance with your wishes, I leave here a small poem of a darker, more Mythological nature. My own take on Creation.

Enjoy.

*takes her smiles with him as he departs*

Draugr

Genesis - The God and his Daughter

She grew. That’s all she would do.
She was manifest and remained so, growing but just sitting there.
She was beautiful and ugly all at once.

Who could say what she held in her dreams?
Wildness was a part of her it seemed.
Wistful did she smile under My gaze.

Everlasting was she made, boiling with rage, simmering with peace.
Even in the Great Cold she remained warm, yet cool.
Eventually her dreams became My thoughts.

Gaia I named her, and blessed was her bounty.
Grown ripe, each fruit a morsel, each moment an eternity.
Grey dawn, how easily I took her from her slumber.

The desire upon Me was both savage and worshipful.
The gift I thrust into her was both terrible and preserving.
The taste of her was irresistible, yet it was she who devoured Me, forbidden love.

Long did I rape and love her, this thing of Mine own beauty and terror wrought.
Low did the Light draw the curtain of Time as Darkness and duty filled my heart.
Lingering were her spasmodic chills of the memory, and her hate...

Under the waters she seethed, seeking to drown.
Under the earth she boiled, seeking to rage free.
Under our children she suffered, killing and preserving them in her fey madness.

Shallow is this Heaven where My lonely heart dwells.
Solitude is Mine reward, dwelling in the souls of our children.
Sweet and savage are these creatures of wonder, My agenda.

Their hearts are morsels to Mine pallet.
Their minds a mirrors of her confusion and pain.
Their likeness is of their God and his Daughter.

I am completely in awe. Still I have no words to do you justice. You are truly amazing. I could spend all day getting lost in your writings.

SweetNightmares

Then as long as there are readers, the pages of my tome shall keep turning.

I humbly thank thee for thy sweetness and praise.

Draugr.

PS Not sure about this next one, I was just playing around ...

The Princess of Mirken Wood

In Mirken Wood, the stones are fallen down
The blackened trees have rest their limbs to bed
A darkened morn when youth has lost her crown
A dormant moon whose spirit lies broken, dead

Glimmer the oak tree now the sun is gone
Ever-cold winds shall pass through stones and leaf
Pity the lake, now brown, that once had shone
Bracken that hides the scars of trampling feet

In dusty cave and winter’s dorm she waits
In forest gloom the dancing ravens mock
The curse that turns her tears to stone and chain
I hold the silver key that turns the lock

An angel in imposed recluse she cries
Afraid to see the demon in my eyes

*jaw drops* You are a great writer. Hm...great is an understatement. I wish I could write half as good as you do. You have a way with words. Truly extrodinary.

SweetNightmares

Effective use of imagery, good meter and excellent vocabulary, its official your the better poet. ;)

*smirks* not to sound full of myself, but you already can write half as good. You just need some practice with different techniques to give your imagination room to grow and strengthen. You already have the vision, just need the tools to implement that.
Don't stop writing, whatever you do.

Thankyou again, Sweet. I am always delighted to see you smile.


Mephy, its not about better. We're just different. Same impact just different presentation - much like our fighting styles. You land blow after blow and each one is filled with emotion and leaves the readers floored.
I just like a few good punches in the right spots, leave the readers thinking over it long after im finished. At least I hope they do ...

Always
Draugr.

*tenderly leafing through his tome, the pages in this section whiter than the others but no less ancient ... he reads the words over to himself ... fine, pale finger upon his chin, dark eyes scanning rapidly ... reaches for his pen and holds it above the old ink scrawlings ... hesitates ... then puts the pen away*

Perhaps it is time to show my faults. To let something be seen of my work.

Again, I'm not entirely sure about this one, but it will conclude the mythical trilogy of works started with Genesis.

'Tis a lover's poem. One I have not let see the light for some time.

'Tis flawed and imperfect, but then so are we all ...

Draugr.

Fire And Ice

Fire stands before his love, poised and radiant, his face reflected in her cobalt eyes;
She does not move, nor flinch, nor blink.

Ice receives her man’s love with a tremor of a calculated laugh, her seeming impenetrable gaze
Glinting on his form, seeing him smile.

He senses her pause, her fingers fiddling, knows she has moved too close,;
Sees behind the melting core to the motivation that lead her this way.

Still she stands, seeming to consider him as any merchant might, weighing his heart with a biased scale,
Watching his tremors, seeing his refusal to be thrown away.

He watches her eyes through the bars of his cage, sees himself in her, watches as she probes;
Seeking herself in him, knowing the longer she stares, the harder it will be to look away.

Too late she gleans his final agenda, seeing now his intent in his gaze;
As she waited to receive the Immaculate release of his love, Ice melted into Fire’s hands, her blood extinguishing his unending
Conflagration of feelings, hissing and soothing his twisting soul, the breath between them calming his mind;
As she drips and shimmers over his form, she feels the escape of her heart from its cold bindings,
And a shadowy essence painting the air as they fade...

Wonderful as always. :)

SweetNightmares

*bows and turns to the pages, flipping gently*

And once more, the moon wanes and slips into shadow ...

*leaves the book open and follows the moon into darkness ... *

Draugr.

If ...

If I were to say how much I was happy, you would know that I lie...
If I were instead to tell you the truth, you wouldn’t want to hear it....

If you were to forgive me, I may not accept.
If you were to accept me, I may not relent.

If my words had any meaning, meant anything at all ...
If you were to listen, find any meaning at all ...

If I could have seen clearer when it counted, I might have been great.
If I could have known better when it counted, I might have been really great.

If strength was naturally mine, could I be sophisticated?
If strength was naturally mine, could I be classy?

If I ever cared for the things you reach for, I would make them yours.
If I ever cared for the things you dream of, I could make them come true.

If you would let me be yours, I may not be what you need.
If you let me be yours, I may one day make you bleed.

If ever I understand these motives and come to you one night,
If ever I gather the words and make you feel alright ...

If this mystery was not, and these feelings did not ...
If this pain I call my heart was not, and you were not ...

If the word ‘if’ had any power, any meaning, any use ...
If the world of ‘if’ had any substance, any purpose, any truth ...

If only I could be the man I had wished to be, longed to be ...
If only you could be the one who would fight for once, for me ...

I don't know why, but for some reason that last poem really speaks to me. It brought up some emotions I've been going through, questions and thoughts that run through my mind. I love your work so much. I do hope you keep writing much much more.

SweetNightmares

A pleasure to have finally struck a chord. Indeed, this one came upon me during a very stressful and emotionally taxing period. Details aside, the poem was a wish for something more than the pathetic cycle of martyrdom I found myself in.

Thankyou dearly for your support.

This next is a good practice example. I took a line from a published poem that stood out to me, wrote it down on a blank sheet and stared at it until a feeling hit me ... I should change the first line for copyright's sake ... anyway, it's just one example of keeping your "juices" flowing ... B) the creative kind, of course ... :P

Draugr.

I wake sweating, still running the track of the dream.
My body is frozen in form.
I have fallen, my instincts whisper,
Fallen in the dream and from it.
Like a frieght hauler, my mind rushes
Onward, fulfilling the nebulous silence
With echoes and shadows.
The curtain billows upon the wind.
My sweat responds,
Tingling my skin,
Soaking the roots of my warm hair.
The sheets stick to my legs
And pull away from the corners.
The doona is far too hot.
The moon looks nice for a dip in silver
Balconies.
I shake, but am temporarily reluctant to do
Any more than that.
Letting the doona slip away, I jam myself
Against the bedhead and reach for the glass
Of dusty water on my table. I drink
And consider pouring it over my scalp.
Lint makes my chest and back clammy, so
I finally squint against my lantern and blunder
Into the bathroom. Dark rings puffing about
Bloodshot eyes dominate my face.
A shower, cool but not cold.
A cup of tea, warm and sweet.
I return to the night and inviting silver pools.
The moist breeze dilutes my sigh as I whisper;
"... please ... not again ..."

Every time I reply I always wish I could say the right thing. I know my replies thus far have not been doing your work justice. I'm not a great writer, but I'm not bad either I guess. But even as a writer myself, I find a lack of words to describe how truly wonderful your writing is.

SweetNightmares

You should send some of these healthy compliments my way Baron, spread the love around. ;) But yes she speaks truthfully, your work is outstanding and I feel priviledged to know you as the poet, and as the person. Cheers! :D

'Tis compliment enough, right there.

*smiles* thankyou, sweet lady of nightmares ...

Mephy, you devil, you have scores of adoring fans all over the globe. I believe the Americans say "Get off my cool-aid, mofo."

*grin fades with a sigh and he turns to the tome ... watches it for a moment ... then takes a step forward and turns the pages once, knowing exactly where this poem is among the brittle pages ... steps back*

Poetic prose. Or so this was named, once. A stream of consciousness, really.

Draugr.

Beauty.

A swallow diving through the close, bright summer air; ducking under the chirps of relations perched high in the birches.
Leaves whispering and shimmering, throwing the sun down in dappled medallions.
Gnats upon unblemished thighs that bubble at the touch. Loose floral skirt hem breathing and deflating with the wind. Long black hair tangling over eyes that reflect the cloudless sky, where perhaps the noise of Man is faint.
Sweat tingling the bosom rising and falling just within perception. Lips parted with a sigh, shaped in a serene, languid smile. Fingers dipped in the grasses shining under the sun now setting in white-golden grace.
A perfect moment she has chosen for singing.

:lol: Nice *thumbs up*

Wonderful. *smiles* I hope I get to read more soon.

SweetNightmares

Some Vast Epic Wordscapes there, Baron. You convey a feeling of size, or 'vastness' in your writing. I like the patterns you find.

Thankyou.

You're one of the very few to perceive that. Vastness and pattern are indeed the things I focus on when writing ... perhaps that is simply a part of living in a vast land with a patterned history ...

Do visit again, sometime.

Baron Draugr.

So where are you from? Or is it obvious and I'm just dumb?

By the quality of your words, you are not dumb.

Neither is the clue an obvious one.

I am Australian. Perhaps it is simply my backward ways that confuse you.

I take it you hail from the Americas?

Draugr.