Poetry of SlyM
I want to read...
Untitled(about a Birdy)
Valentines 2001
Birthday Song
A Place of Beauty
The Beauty of Genevieve Anole
Little Love snippet
Ouroboros
Ruta at Sunrise
Untitled
Outside right now, perched on a bough, a birdy sings it's mind.
To be like her! I've tried, for sure. But people stare, I find.
Why can't I go like Birdy though? And sit in some odd tree?
And start to shout and scream about what maters most to me?
I'll start to say "Just yesterday, SHE left me, now I grieve!"
Then someone stops to call the cops, and hastily I leave.
Now still that bird spews word on word for hours and hours on end.
And all the while the people smile, and willing ears they lend.
Well *I* too have great many thoughts
My mind's untangled many knots
I've been and seen great many lands
I've touched and made much with these hands
I've heard great music with these ears
I've lived through dangers, grief and fears
I've tasted foods from far and wide
I've many feelings, here, inside
I'd like to speak of many things.
Why must I sit, while Birdy sings?
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Valentines, 2001
I'm here alone, across the sea
On February four and ten
While She is back in Laramie,
When shall we meet again?
To be with you again, I could
My very life, that is so raw, lease.
For what's it's use, and what's it's good,
When I'm without my Kallis?
I see the hearts, and red displays,
In all the stores, and I sigh; "Ah!"
For I'm reminded of the days
With my Любимая
I hear some strangely playing band
With horn, trombone, fagot and tuba.
I'd rather watch them hand in hand
With my beloved Люба
I wish that I could fly above
And migrate far, just like a starling
For then I'd now be with you love,
My Derarheart, Precious Darling.
(Those words are Estonian, (Kallis,) Russian (Loo-Be-Mia) and Ukrainian (Loo-ba) for Darling.)
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Birthday Song
I find there is now fear in me
though not of death or age, you see
but that, in life, I am alone
A single, unconnecting drone
who is a strong, and honest tone
but not a harmony.
The years have passed me, week by week
and every day, I tend to seek
for someone I could really know
with whom I'd let life's passion flow
but as of yet, this is not so
and hence, life's hue is bleak
I think of you, and of a time
when love will flow not just to rhyme
but to yourself, and all your needs
for my soul on such caring feeds
and so, I simply sew the seeds
of passion, through sublime.
So here I sit, amid the flowers
in a town of trees and towers.
waiting to express my love
to feel it tense, then soar above
just as the image of a dove.
I live for such fine hours.
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A Place of Beauty
'Tis a place of beauty, 'Tis a place of Love
For there upon the lively grass, where breezes of young nymphs may pass
One feels engulfed in summer's sigh, as scudding clouds flow through the sky
So blue and high above.
Tis a place of beauty, 'Tis a place of Awe
Beside a waterfall so grand, upon the banks, where cedars stand
The water's drum turns silence thick, but there, upon a ragged stick
A raven starts to kaw.
'Tis a place of beauty, 'Tis a place of Sweat
Amid the city's summer heat, with windows open to the street
The mirrors stretch the floor's expanse, within this studio of dance
The place where first we met.
Tis a place of beauty, 'Tis a place of Grace
With sweet fruit's fragrance in the air, and swimming fishes, bright and rare
And far above, the palm tree's frond, casts dancing shadows on the pond.
In patterns all of lace.
Tis a place of beauty, 'Tis a place of Peace
Where waves lap at the stoney shore, just as they shall for eons more
And firs from centuries now gone by, still reach towards the wintry sky
And distant Vees of geese.
'Tis a place of beauty, 'Tis a place so Bold
In mountain valleys, high and wide, with staggered peaks on either side
With fresh winds tumbling down their slopes, and little flow'rs of summer hopes
Amid the stones of old.
'Tis a place of beauty, 'Tis the perfect Place
Beyond all splendor of the land, beyond all wonders, oh so grand
From palace halls to lowly ditch, this place is anywhere from which
I see your perfect face.
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Extrapolation from Beauty, Regarded from Afar
The Beauty of fair Genevieve Anole
Though possibly reduced in memories
Shall never hear it's knell begin to toll
For here, it still lives on in similes.
Her face is joyous as her smile is free
but such expressions end not at her skin
Each one then manifests it's self in me
and to such gleeful smiles I feel akin.
The sweetest sounds sail over her kind lips
As rich and full as earth's most fertile soils.
Then through my mind, like warmth, her speaking drips
And so, away all angst and worry boils.
Though cheeks are oft' compared to rose's hue
Anole's are better paired to sunset's glow.
Instead of petals, stark and cold with dew,
Her peaceful eyes reflect soft warmth below.
And Ah! How tranquil are her happy eyes.
Infused with all the kindness of her soul.
They're infinite, yet warm, like summer skies.
Such aspects are combined in this great whole.
And so, the panorama of her face
With all the virtues nature has to give,
Which moist and earthen smiles often grace,
Becomes a reason to be glad I live.
The sunset of her cheeks, as soft as fur,
Reiterated in her eyes so vast
So strengthens admiration felt for her
That for eternity this love will last.
Such Beauty of fair Genevieve Anole,
Though possibly reduced in memories
Shall always be remembered by my soul
And here it still lives on in similes.
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Composed in Math Class
I reach for love. Her back is turned.
My hands are wet. My face is burned.
I try to smile in her direction
But all I see is my reflection.
An akward boy of unmatched years
Pushed by passion. Held by fears.
Self concious, I must turn aside
And longing still, my love I hide.
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Ouroboros
The Circle of Life
The Circle of Death
Of being, and ceasing to be.
I say, indeed, "Hen To Pan":
The One, the All, which is one, which is all.
All things enclosed are not enclosed
There is no else to be seperate from
When space is curved upon it's self
to be complete.
There is no end, and no beginning
But eternal in between.
-"Hen To Pan" is a Chinese saying, and has nothing to do with frying poultry. -SlyM
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Ruta at Sunrise
Laying in her lap, in eternal summer sun
On a beach-head by the waves, with the morning just begun.
Strangers just before, now she's my instinctive friend.
With the sun and sky and sea, and it's all without an end.
With my trusting head, so becradled in her arm
All the worries only were, in a world that's cleared of harm.
Hark -then sings her voice! This maternal, caring call
Wafts me off to inner peace, then to harmony with all.
- - -
Now, as I awake, from this reverie of truth
I am filled with thriving life; of all love and joyous youth.
Eager just to be, my rejuvenation's done
Lying in an angel's lap, lit by endless summer's sun
On a beachhead at the sea, with the morning just begun.
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(The Katrin Limerick has moved here.)