chesneycat

This one's been sitting on my laptop for a few days.  It's a little odd, I know.


The dragon, awakening

Voyaging, part I

The circling albatross never sleeps,
broad wings resting in the dimpled air
as lazy dolphins bask beneath
in ocean currents that never sleep,
but drive us out and onwards through the deeps,
away from home and harbour, wives and lovers,
away from gentle rest and sleep.

The boundless ocean never ends,
no not within the sight of man or bird,
but still he flies, a guide, a friend,
that wild-winged wanderer of the seas;
some rock of land remains within his reach
with but a simple twist of wings
in air.  So still, and still, he's free.

The guiding stars shift every night
and we are shorn from all the shores we know.
No soundings, just the empty white
of unwrit charts, and sun-cast light
reflecting from our evening Hesperus,
our morning bird.  But we are gone too long:
pale mourning missed, and clouded minds and sight.

Iterations

Cav will know what inspired me today.  *grin*

... I really ought to sit down and write some poetry properly, rather than just letting it all spill out in fifteen minutes of textual diarrhoea...

TS Eliot's The Waste Land, translated into LOLspeek....

You know, I do believe it makes more sense that way... And once again, I'm reminded to get back to my Iain M. Banks re-read...

What can I say, it's cathartic?  This time, it even has some vague semblance of rhyme and meter...

( Soppy poetry behind the cut. )

cavaticat's recent post got me thinking about strength.  A poem started to emerge and, as usual, it ended up being completely different to how I expected it.  But nevermind.And no, I haven't yet read Gaiman's book of the same name.  It's a criminal oversight, I know.

I guess they're not to everyone's taste, so let's slap on a cut...


And a quick aside - what the heck is up with the internet today?  I've not checked yet, but it feels like half the routers out there have gone tits up.

( Untitled )

This is pretty much where I am right now, in one minute's worth of words.  Progress is being made.

Guess what? It's crappy poetry time!