Friday, June 7, 2013

Old Poetry

Old poetry from my high school days. Still not sure whether to cringe or pat myself on the back.



In Conversation

Soft cadence upon my ear
Murmur and babble
Voice mix like water
Each drop loosing and keeping
Each identity grows and faces
Simultaneously in conversation

Lyric, rhyme, and alliteration
Hidden and unfound
Little gems buried neath words
A little sparkle here, there this
That's swept away with the current
Sounds nice in conversation

Made by letter, consonant, vowel
Syllable by syllable
Alone, means nothing but noise
Strung out, connected, form
Ideas thrive and continue to the next
Meaning found in conversation.

Inspiration

Images enter my head
Ideas born of inspiration
Something I saw or heard
Or something completely random
I attempt to capture them
Through words or pictures
But so many, so fleeting
Clouds from muses' footsteps
Dance across my mind's sky
I lie on my back and watch 
The ever changing shapes
Float through the wide expanse
I always have a moment
To stop and daydream
Thoughts run through my head
My head runs through thoughts
Dreams and nightmares swirl
Into a beautiful tempest
Songs compile themselves
Into harmonious cacophony
Images and sensations blend
Creating a mismatch puzzle
Each piece fitting perfectly
Art is destroyed into turmoil
Turmoil is transformed into art
And so the world turns
In a waltz with ancient time
That continues until the music
Fades into the silence of space

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