Constructive Creativity

Saturday, July 21, 2007

Poetic Maturité

Well, here I am once again, back from my wanderings. :) I made a deal with my friend Morbido to create a post before the end of the week. She agreed and promptly posted, so the pressure was on, and I began rattling my skull for a new topic de jour. My first thought was to post some pictures, having collected quite a backlog on my digicam. However, after a few hours of futile wrestling with Blogger and Picasa, I wasn't able to post a single image. :( Months ago, the bright and cheery geeks of Bloggerdom decided in their infinite grasp of all things HTMLey to lead their faithful and obedient servant, known as BloggerBot, to a pool of salty water and short circuit him. Ever since, I have been image uploadinally impaired, in digipolitical correctese, or just plain screwed, to use a more colloquial expression! Well, being unable to visually entertain my guests, and being rather pressed for time, I decided to dig once more into my dusty vaults to try and find some more mature examples of my past poetic endeavors. I did, after all, hint to my doctor friend Omid (in the preceding post comments) that I might just give him a dose of my better poetic medicine! :) So, after a bit of polish and wax, I present to you three poems (well, the first is more prosaic, but in the spirit of a poem, nonetheless). The first two, as I recall, were written when I was about 18 years of age, while the last, I penned at some point during my graduate school career. I hope you like them! :)

Imagined Idyllity

I am in the middle of a wondrous wildness of forested and mountainous terrain. Looking up from a small sun brightened morning bedewed grassy meadow, the sky is blue and cloudless; the air cool, crisp, and refreshing. I watch and listen carefully, reveling, as a bird pirouettes upon its wing; a squirrel busily gathers its winter stores; a deer runs swiftly, head held strong and erect; a cricket sings its tiny love song; and the trees: old and time ravaged, yet tall and vigorous, stand as sentinels, signaling the arrival of autumn, as a chilling breeze gently rustles through their leaves. All is well; tranquility abundant. I feel perfectly at home.

Mind's Repast

In my mind there is a place,
If places there may be,
Where I can go
Where who may know
When I am wanting peace.

This place,
This boundless perfect place,
Is just the balm I seek
When that which means within
In worlds without
Cannot, I find, be found.

In this place
I'm free to grow,
To be as I dream of being;
There, friends are true
And love can last
Until it sets me free.


Bright eyes searching, hunger driven
* Wheels turn, levers shift, switches switch
Small prize, unalerted, within sight
* Unhindered, unreasoned, unquestioned advance
Careful, stealthy, determined approach
* Shiny blades, powered metal mandibles
Capture, ingestion, life perpetuating life
* Rending, tearing, crushing, devouring
Bright eyes close, life's struggle on hold
* Raw materials digested, appetites unsated
Rest and reconstitution, resulting renewal
* Consuming ever more of the ever less

Uplifting End Note: Stay tuned folks, I plan to write a few scathing emails in search of remedies to my image posting difficulties. Assuming the Masters of Geekness come through with some fixes, I may just have some pics for you in the near future. Fingers, toes, and eyelashes will all be crossed in anticipation. ;)