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.


Contraposition

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. ;)

12 Comments:

Blogger david santos said...

Hello, David, my name!
Thanks for you work, is very good and have a good week

7/29/2007 6:42 PM  
Blogger David said...

Hi David, thanks for visiting! I'm glad you enjoyed my poems. :) I hope your week is also a pleasant one.

7/30/2007 1:25 AM  
Blogger Caesar of Pentra said...

Yo! What's been up? Nice poems!Can you compose rap songs as well? :P

8/02/2007 4:05 AM  
Blogger David said...

Hello Caesar, thanks for dropping by. Last week, Mel asked me what's up. I said not much. I think she wanted a bit more. ;) I'm glad you liked my poems. :) Never tried composing rap songs. I really liked some of the original rappers like Run DMC, but I am totally disgusted with gangster rap. Some of those guys are hard core criminals! Among current rappers, I like some of Ludacris songs and Snoop Dog can occasionally amuse me.

8/02/2007 2:54 PM  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

I sometimes like the way you write:) :):):):) Cute posts you have:) I know I don't usually write comments, but I stop by occasionally and see what you have written:) my very good and peaceful best (if I may say so in a very poetic pleonastic way:) Thanks for posting and for the good thoughts:) Take care,
Manuela

8/13/2007 9:31 PM  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

haha, the rap song writing suggestion is funny:)) you should try that sometimes:)
Manuela

8/13/2007 9:36 PM  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

or not:) but it's funny anyway :) take care:) all the ebst to you and your friends:)
Manuela

8/13/2007 9:38 PM  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

sorry:) all the best:) I should probably go to sleep, it's really late:) take care:)
Manuela

8/13/2007 9:43 PM  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

and have a good day:))
the same

8/13/2007 9:48 PM  
Blogger David said...

Hi Manuela,

Thanks for your very nice comments! :) Actually, I did compose a little rap parody which I posted in a comment over at Caesar's blog. My rapping encouraged him to script his first rap! Perhaps I will post my little rap here. :) I hope you have a good day too.

8/14/2007 3:04 AM  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

Wow David,

I did not know you had this romantic bone in you! I mean you always seem like this very practical person, and it sort of caught me off guard to read your poetry.. i like the Mind's Repast... it is very smooth...

An idea just occured me... What would stop an American white man from feeling free? a few months ago in one of my classes for the uni, we had a very good professor who wanted us to admit our own prejedices... she pushed us to a point that some of us cracked... we have this American guy on our class, he wis white and extremely tall and well built... she challenged him to admit that being a white man and American makes him feel lucky or at advantage... for some reason i got offended by her... and when i asked him about it... he admited that it is true... he feels thjat he has an advantage!

Anyway... i just remembered this story now reading your poetry... What kind of freedom were you looking for when you were 18?

Madas

8/17/2007 5:10 PM  
Blogger David said...

Hello again M,

For your second comment I will give you extra credit on top of your excellent assignment grade. You are being positively altruistic today! :) Thank you for complimenting my poetic endeavors. I do have a few romantic bones rattling around somewhere, probably in my toes, but I think they tend to wander about. ;) Well, I suppose that a lot of white American men feel advantaged, but I never really did. Maybe it was because I identified with disadvantaged people. My friends were never part of any "in" crowd, however, they were unique and special in their own ways. As to your question about freedom, I will deliver your answer via priority email. :)

8/18/2007 1:24 AM  

Post a Comment

<< Home