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Array ( [sid] => 42304 [catid] => 1 [aid] => mick [title] => Once Upon A Cosmic Rhyme (part three) [time] => 2004-04-08 08:20:52 [hometext] => More in the continueing story of myth and magic,muse and man. [bodytext] => Once upon a cosmic rhyme.
Past Muse transcendant overflowing.
After the shifting of life's paradigm.
How far beyond? No way of knowing.

A mystic poet searched and sought,
for things that haven't been.
Or, if they had been,
they were so long forgot.
That they would be as "new" again.

Till one night when dew had frosted.
On rocks and thorns he lay exhausted.
To sleep, dream, awake, and write.
Of all things that might spring
to minds eye sight.

HERE IS WHAT HE WROTE...

Last night I slept on rocks and thorns,
feeling neither scrape nor sting.
I slept and dreamt of days unborn.
Slept and dreamt of many things.

For rock bruised flesh and thorn drew blood,
to make a vision true.
And as a part of a not yet day,
was where I first saw me anew.

That part of me I not yet be.
My spirit free, not slave like me.
As i'm so chained to now and lashed to past.
You with look so smart, so strong, so fast.

Unencumbered by livings weight.
No terms or vows to obligate.
To be as you would suit me best.
If I were such, i'd cease my quest.

THEN...
I (not yet), replied with this.

YOU THINK ME BLESSED?
YOU THINK THIS BLISS?

To know you are but are not yet.
To know how far to me is my regret!
Of frozen still,as others move.
As I will stay, till my days approved.
and ordered forth. For till i'm told,
I can not be, much less unfold.

You reach for dreams!
Some you grasp!
I dream of reaching!
I can not clasp.
A single one, among my many.
I wish that until my day becomes,
I had not any!

To see myself, envious of me.
His not yet self, so depresses me.
I see I await much less
than I dreamed myself being.
If you are my fate.
If that's what i'm seeing.

Now turn away! Look no more.
Until MY day and not before.
I become a part of the you YOU bring.
By then I pray, a better thing.
Than sought me out before my time.
For what?
As boast , for ego boost,
to puff up rhyme?
No more than just your idealized imaginings?
You slept? You dreamt?
Poor foolish thing.

THEN...

I awoke on rocks and thorns.
Feeling every scrape and sting.
Looking out upon that morn.
Every bit of this, remembering.
With rock bruised flesh,
and thorn drawn blood,
plus memories of a vision true.
Quick written down,
as fast as minds flood,
gushed them into minds eye view.
Then, reading over all again.
I knew the depths of my souls sin.
I had written my own indictment of me!
And knew full then my blasphemy.

NOW...
Once upon a cosmic rhyme.
A mystic poet did indeed pen a magic ode.
Detailing his folly, hubris, and crime.
As every word, on every line clearly showed.

This mystic poet, humbler now.
Much less interested in dreams.
More inclined to truth and fact.
Having learned that what you search for,
might not be what it seems.

He will know for sure when he gets back.
To his self that is not yet.
On that day as yet unplowed.
At that time when "then" is set.
In the way allowed.

With the hope of making new self proud.

[comments] => 3 [counter] => 257 [topic] => 49 [informant] => rhymeandreason [notes] => [ihome] => 0 [alanguage] => english [acomm] => 0 [haspoll] => 0 [pollID] => 0 [score] => 0 [ratings] => 0 [editpoem] => 1 [associated] => [topicname] => mystical )

Once Upon A Cosmic Rhyme (part three)

Contributed by rhymeandreason on Thursday, 8th April 2004 @ 08:20:52 AM in AEST
Topic: mystical

Once upon a cosmic rhyme.
Past Muse transcendant overflowing.
After the shifting of life's paradigm.
How far beyond? No way of knowing.

A mystic poet searched and sought,
for things that haven't been.
Or, if they had been,
they were so long forgot.
That they would be as "new" again.

Till one night when dew had frosted.
On rocks and thorns he lay exhausted.
To sleep, dream, awake, and write.
Of all things that might spring
to minds eye sight.

HERE IS WHAT HE WROTE...

Last night I slept on rocks and thorns,
feeling neither scrape nor sting.
I slept and dreamt of days unborn.
Slept and dreamt of many things.

For rock bruised flesh and thorn drew blood,
to make a vision true.
And as a part of a not yet day,
was where I first saw me anew.

That part of me I not yet be.
My spirit free, not slave like me.
As i'm so chained to now and lashed to past.
You with look so smart, so strong, so fast.

Unencumbered by livings weight.
No terms or vows to obligate.
To be as you would suit me best.
If I were such, i'd cease my quest.

THEN...
I (not yet), replied with this.

YOU THINK ME BLESSED?
YOU THINK THIS BLISS?

To know you are but are not yet.
To know how far to me is my regret!
Of frozen still,as others move.
As I will stay, till my days approved.
and ordered forth. For till i'm told,
I can not be, much less unfold.

You reach for dreams!
Some you grasp!
I dream of reaching!
I can not clasp.
A single one, among my many.
I wish that until my day becomes,
I had not any!

To see myself, envious of me.
His not yet self, so depresses me.
I see I await much less
than I dreamed myself being.
If you are my fate.
If that's what i'm seeing.

Now turn away! Look no more.
Until MY day and not before.
I become a part of the you YOU bring.
By then I pray, a better thing.
Than sought me out before my time.
For what?
As boast , for ego boost,
to puff up rhyme?
No more than just your idealized imaginings?
You slept? You dreamt?
Poor foolish thing.

THEN...

I awoke on rocks and thorns.
Feeling every scrape and sting.
Looking out upon that morn.
Every bit of this, remembering.
With rock bruised flesh,
and thorn drawn blood,
plus memories of a vision true.
Quick written down,
as fast as minds flood,
gushed them into minds eye view.
Then, reading over all again.
I knew the depths of my souls sin.
I had written my own indictment of me!
And knew full then my blasphemy.

NOW...
Once upon a cosmic rhyme.
A mystic poet did indeed pen a magic ode.
Detailing his folly, hubris, and crime.
As every word, on every line clearly showed.

This mystic poet, humbler now.
Much less interested in dreams.
More inclined to truth and fact.
Having learned that what you search for,
might not be what it seems.

He will know for sure when he gets back.
To his self that is not yet.
On that day as yet unplowed.
At that time when "then" is set.
In the way allowed.

With the hope of making new self proud.

Copyright © rhymeandreason ... [ 2004-04-08 08:20:52]
(Date/Time posted on site)

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Re: Once Upon A Cosmic Rhyme (part three) (User Rating: 1 )
by Kie on Thursday, 8th April 2004 @ 09:43:22 AM AEST
(User Info | Send a Message)

I am humbled by your poetic talent.
*Sighs*
This was incredible, just absolutely incredible to read....

Well done, well done and well done!

Kie

Re: Once Upon A Cosmic Rhyme (part three) (User Rating: 1 )
by Former_Member on Thursday, 8th April 2004 @ 06:44:27 PM AEST
(User Info | Send a Message)

I like your loose rhythm, in this, a story of stories. I hope this gains you recognition, as I think you deserve it.
Again, I'm impressed with your perspective and ability.

Re: Once Upon A Cosmic Rhyme (part three) (User Rating: 1 )
by Nelly on Thursday, 22nd April 2004 @ 07:40:57 AM AEST
(User Info | Send a Message)

superbly done! il look forward to your future works! = )

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