 |
Poems On Site: 198,500+ Comments On Poems: 427,000+ Forum Posts: 105,000+ |
Custom Search
|
|
|
||||
| Welcome ! | Home · FAQ · Topics · Web Links · Your Account · Submit Poetry · Top 30 · OldSite Link | 29-May 20:55:09 AEST | ||
|
|
||||
|
|
||||
|
|
||||
|
Array
(
[sid] => 4823
[catid] => 1
[aid] => mick
[title] => The Sailor, The Prince and The Poet.
[time] => 2002-10-09 14:00:00
[hometext] => Im a 21 year old philosophy student into heavy metal, literature, history... I think im a romantic (literal not common) at heart, but was born a few centuries too late. Sometimes I wake up at night with something to write or draw... I always ignore it, except this time I had to write down "The sailor, the prince and the poet". I dont know why I wrote it... Just came to me i guess. I dont know if ill post anymore poems, even if ill write anymore.
Im not depressed, but im not fulfilled. I guess im lonely, but im not alone. In love with someone ill never see again. Sad aint it. Music and literature are very important to me... Well, dont know what else to write. "Take my heart and set it free, carried forward by the waves, Nowhere left to run, Navigator's son, Chasing rainbows all my days, Where I go I do not know, I only know the places I've been, Dreams they come and go, ever shall be so, nothings real until you feel." Ghost of the Navigator - Iron Maiden [bodytext] => The Sailor, The Prince and The Poet In the galley they sat The last three awake, Cursing and blessing To the roar of the waves. The first he breathes the air Of Poseidon, but prays he To the fisher-king, the fisher-king. To hope, above all, for a calm sea. In his eyes, reflection of toil and work, His life has been cruel and hard, That dry-wet mottles his mind, "And I", says he, "Claim this dark card." Black, its first, spurts from his paw, Aghast his companions digits withdraw. Gibbous in greed, the mirror glows Down on the trio, lighting their eyes In pale green shades, as the sea churns, For gold or tedium, many men would die. The second, his age long passed, Never to be so high, but always to seek For the bastard Brother, the bastard Brother, His gold and silk he hath given to each. Those hardened jewels are in and on His hands, a beggars chance he has Maybe, not with skill, but with wealth. "I'll up you both", he cries, "One hundred to raise!". His Brother is cast, glistened in blood, As if this man was cutting his brood. Ancient and cold, Methusulah shifts Her deepest claws - her highest crags, One and all despair to the moon, But such violence at once is lapsed. The third of the three, rhymer, jester And Gent. His hands as quick as his word And as dangerous they are now. Beneath his brow form a thousand swords. Fingers dance upon a papered edge, Questioning war or love, the wordsmith's Dilemma, he would have you believe. "Then have them both!", his words, "Life and death!" The bloodied pulp below the thieves mace, Above all the two eyes of love and hate. [comments] => 5 [counter] => 199 [topic] => 43 [informant] => Euryon [notes] => [ihome] => 0 [alanguage] => english [acomm] => 0 [haspoll] => 0 [pollID] => 0 [score] => 5 [ratings] => 1 [editpoem] => 1 [associated] => [topicname] => oops )
|
Menu
· 
Poetry
Community
Members
Areas
Reference
Search
Top
Others
Poetry is much like a great photo, a single "moment in time" capturing many feelings and emotions. Yet, they are very alive; creating stirrings within the readers who form visual "pictures" of the expressed emotions within the Poem. ©
Opinions expressed in the poetry, comments, forums etc. on this site are not necessarily those of this site, its owners and/or operators; but of the individuals who post items to this site.
Frequently Asked Questions | | | Privacy Policy | | | Contact Webmaster
All submitted items are Copyright © to their submitter. All the rest Copyright © 2002-2050 by Your Poetry Dot Com
All logos and trademarks in this site are property of their respective owners.
Script Generation Time: 0.052 Seconds. - View our Site Map | .© your-poetry.com