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A Dark And Stormy Night


It was a dark and stormy night,
The thunder-drums beat near.
The stabbing intermittent light
Enveloped all in fear.
The chilling rain cascading down
Cut quickly to the bone,
The howling wind whipped field and town
And made me long for home:

My cheery hearth and cozy bed,
And fleecy slippers soft,
A downy pillow for my head
Up in my cloistered loft;
With fire warmed and brandy quenched,
And dreaming dreams of old:
Alas, my lot was to be drenched,
And trudge home in the cold.



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OK, fellow JC poets, share your poems with the rest of us! (No dirty limericks, please!)


Please follow this link to The Amphitheatre.

 

Fanfic folks have seen this one, but I thought on a TFN board, people might appreciate it. My friends have since told me I got a couple of particulars wrong, but... oh, well. They both like it, anyway.

A Star Wars Hallowe'en (with friends) in 1984

Jana was Mon Mothma
draped in white sheets, with white nail polish
(we were sure of this detail, though none of us had noticed)
Her hair swept up into wise maturity
(I don't remember what she wore on her feet.)
Standing at the bottom of my mother's stairs,
She whispered wordlessly of commitment,
Of courage
Of leadership
She was unforgiving light shone into dark shadows,
A final destruction from which evil could not escape.
Everyone thought she was Athena.
We made the best of it, because we liked Athena too.
She was the goddess of wisdom and war.

For Dani, it was the Emperor's year,
contemplating ultimate evil
beneath a five-yard bolt of black broadcloth.
Her pale skin needed no powdering
above the black turtleneck, black jeans, and black high top sneakers
(because who would ever notice the Emperor's feet?)
Brooding on changes that came beyond our control
Wrapped in the dark of night
I looked on her and understood
the killing black water beneath the ice of the world
Everyone thought she was the Grim Reaper.
She said nothing about that
as they pretended indulgence
and shuddered in the sudden chill.

I had been Princess Leia years before
--we all had, of course --
In a dress made from a bed sheet, my pigtails curled up above my ears.
I didn't want to be Leia.
I wouldn't understand her journey for many years,
And furthermore, I didn't have enough hair.

So I was Luke Skywalker, Jedi knight (and friend to Captain Solo),
my hair pulled up tight to look boy-short.
I wore black pants and a black shirt, and Jana's black riding boots
(of which I was inordinately proud, because Luke had a journey,
and a journey requires proper footwear)
I didn't think of light or dark, but of an empty space in the heart,
And of the cry of fear and desperate loneliness: "Father, help me."
I felt it so loudly that it seemed everyone should hear it.
I didn't understand, but I hoped with all my soul
That love could truly build a path into the shadows of the unknown
My hair color was right, and my eye color,
(I fancied myself a Skywalker in some other world anyway),
But something seems to have confused people
Because no one had any idea who I was supposed to be.

So we passed through the night-dark streets,
Sometimes joking with the younger children we passed,
Sometimes talking seriously among ourselves
About good and evil,
and the tortured two-way road between them.
And the man next door tore himself away from sports and beer
To say, "Ain't you girls too old for Hallowe'en?"

 

To see the world in a grain of sand
And the Heavens in a flower
To hold Infinity in the palm of your hand
And Eternity in an hour.

 

The never ending Stupidity:

As I stand in the lobby or the hallway
I am bombarded with stupidity
As I stand in the dark rooms
I am bothered by stupidity yet again
As I clean the popcorn from the floor
Like a weed the popcorn grows back yet again
As I stand in the lobby I am a machine
I greet those who do not greet me
As I walk down the hallway I'm asked stupid questions like where is the bathroom when I'm standing in it.
I am asked where the auditorium is when it's printed on the ticket they hold in their hand as well as it being marked on the doors.
As I stand in the lobby
I am asked if I will remember their face if they go outside for a cigarette or get a coat.
I will remember your face along with the thousands of other stupid people I come across in a single day that is my job.
Once in a blue moon I meet someone smart.
that is as sharp as a whip. They know where their going, what they want eat, and they are on time.
However this is only on a blue moon, therefore keeping the neverending cyle of stupidity going as I the Usher must indure yet again the stupidity of STUPID CUSTOMERS!!!!!


It's not the same as it was 5 years ago, but that was sort of a poem I came up with when I worked at a theatre. It speaks the truth, so next time greet the usher who rips your ticket, and just move along and not act like cattle which had it's head cut off.

 

understand the new implants
bio-rock and live stock
when nature needs a helping hand,
new implants
when lovers check for future plans,
new implants
bio-rock and live stock.

 

Do you Dream?
Late night
In the dark
I watch you
I see you.

Do you Dream?
After all this time
I feel I know you best
I feel I love you more
I feel I love me more.

Do you Dream?
My life without you
My death without you
It all comes full circle
I need you always.

Do you Dream?
Soon we'll be together
Together forever
You can't ignore me
You can't hide.

Do you Dream?

 

Trail of Thoughts


On a dark day, when the dawn never comes

Open your mind, let it run

Think of the past

That it went by so fast

Want it all back again

The future is always moving, forward with
time

Life, always taking turns

With no reason nor rhyme

Know that all will be fine

Everything just takes time


Erik Robert Brouillard

Copyright ©2001 Erik Brouillard

 

I wrote this a couple years ago. Ahem.

-

Childhood is like no other kingdom of stone and mortar,
Childhood is where you watch cartoons all day, not thinking about the next,
Childhood is where you run around and never feel tired.

Childhood is like no other kingdom of stone and mortar,
Childhood is where you only need an imagination to have fun,
Childhood is where you become a pirate, Viking, or caveman on command.

Childhood is like no other kingdom of stone and mortar,
Childhood is where you eat all the junk food you want and not worry about the contents,
Childhood is where you lay on the grass just to watch the clouds pass.

Childhood is like no other kingdom of stone and mortar,
Childhood is where you are not expected to act mature all the time,
Childhood is where you are not expected to work.

Childhood is all too soon chased away by the black wolf of responsibility.
Value it while you can.

 

These are great! Keep them coming, people!

Here's another one of mine. Have you ever been in love with someone you "shouldn't"?



LOVE IN THE SHADOWS

Love in the shadows,
Passion in the darkness,
Unqualified desire in the night:
A forbidden love,
Confined to darkened rooms,
A private, secluded world,
That cannot see the light of day.
The only light our love can see
Is in the sparkle of our eyes.

Out in the world of light,
Our love must be invisible.
We cannot be free with anyone,
Lest they suspect.
But our eyes betray us.
The way we look at each other,
The innocent touch,
The secret stare,
The hidden desire in our faces,
That vibrates throughout our being.
But the people are sightless fools.
They do not see the furtive glances
Or the intense longing in our bodies.

Does it take a special talent
To wear my heart on my sleeve
While wearing a tank top?
Nonetheless, there it is,
For all to see who only care to look.
Our eyes cannot hide our passion,
But they don?t see it.

I long for the day when we can bring
Our love out of the shadows,
And let it soak in the sun
Like a tray of grapes,
Let it bask in the glow of the daylight,
For all to see and know.
Until that day our love will grow
Like mushrooms in the dark,
And see the daylight only in our eyes.

 

Can I get away with this?


Little Boy Blue
The little toy dog is covered with dust,
But sturdy and staunch he stands;
And the little toy soldier is red with rust,
And his musket moulds in his hands;
Time was when the little toy dog was new,
And the soldier was passing fair;
And that was the time when our Little Boy Blue
Kissed them and put them there.

 

It's OK with me, but have you checked with Eugene Field?

Didn't think so.

Original poetry only, please.




Anakin2001, yours wasn't original either, but the author escapes me at the moment.

On second thought, I guess you can post some favorite poems by other authors, but at least have the decency to post the author's name. Thanks.

 

Knackers! You got me.

 

So, Pozzi, you might as well post the whole poem now.

 

I saw a Hollow Film, It was based upon a book,
And everywhere the characters went,
The music had no hook.

Elves with died blonde hair, Galadriel with menses
And everywhere the rockstar's daughter,
Wore her contact lenses.

Spurting squibs of blood, and thinly written script
And everywhere the camera went,
My eyeballs blur and blink.

Is that a giant bear? Or perhaps a lock of hair?
Or is it a big fat blurry rock with shadows right down there?

Next time you make a film, be sure to script it fine,
With character depth and subtlety,
And a director who aint blind.

boom boom

 

Can't say I can Jasman, as I merely happened to find that one part. And I couldn't do more than a poor limeric.

11 dollars wasted, eh Chyren?

 

Oh, not really. I'm just being.. thingy.

 

Litte Tom made a bomb
Shiny, round and hard.
Little Tom dropped the bomb
And scattered 'cross the yard.

My friend wrote that actually when he was like 10. I just think it's clever .

 

Rain

See the light over yonder
Do you sit and often ponder
To let the rain fall and wander
The thoughts of life, sit and squander

Sit down there, call my name
I won't come, there is no shame
Rain, rain fall in all your fame
I'm still lost all the same

 

POPCORN DOWN MY PANTS

popcorn! i have popcorn down my pants!
movies, darkness, laughter.
VROOM! hot tamales, red missiles flying through the air,
explosions of laughter as they land on strangers' heads.

but the popcorn!
the white kernels soar through the air like little bombs,
and as they cruch under my butt more explosions of laughter echo through the theater.

 

I have lots of poetry. here are some I've already posted on the 'net in one shape of form or another, so I don't have to wrry about trying to get them published ever.


Wishes
By: Elizabeth May

If wishes were fishes
And we all cast nets
What would we catch?

The breath of the wind
A whisper of a dream
Or just a lucky fish?

If wishes were horses
And we all rode
What would we trample on?

The dreams of a child
The hopes of the world
Or just worthless dirt?

If wishes were fishes
If wishes were horses
Would they be confused,
Not knowing who they were
Or what to do?

To swim or to trample,
I guess we?ll never know.
Because wishes are wishes
And we can?t wish them otherwise
And make them something they?re not.


Free Slavery
By Elizabeth May

the cage is open
but the bird doesn?t leave
she stays there like always
and waits for food

the cage is open
but the dog there lies
without care
for the world of the free
so he stays put

freedom is different
for/to different people
some animals are content in slavery
for to them it is not slavery

to us it may seem so
but they do not believe so
Why tell them what they don?t want to hear
And Teach Them What They Don?t Want To Know?

 

The Subject had been beautiful,
The lighting perfect.
The sun had cast just the right
Shadows and color coming through the curtains.
As many pictures as he could had been taken
With every angle possible.

Now, the light shone more dimly through the window
The beautiful garments
That once had lives and souls
Were draped lifeless over chairs and shelves.
The tiger, that for a time seemed to have returned from the dead,
Now lay deceased once again.
The plates, cups, and vases
That had once helped bring the beauty out of the ordinary
Went back to collecting dust on shelves
'That gave them much to collect.
The camera, which had once been a window
Into the soul, now just a box.

What had once been another universe
Another place, where everything was flawless,
Became and attic once again.

 

Here's another one from myself.

I'd just like to point out that we have some talented poets on the JC!!!



Pain Pusher


You have a beautiful smile
but your eyes are empty

You have a beautiful body
but your heart is black

Your words are poetry
but they are not your own

You have love to give
but you are a miser with feelings

You have pain to give
and you pass it out freely



Erik Brouillard

Copyright ©2002 Erik Brouillard

 

I have nothing to contribute right now, except that I think the lines Anakin2001 swiped were from William Blake.

 

I forget what kind of poem this is.

Daemons

DAEMONS

FOLLOW ME NOW

WHISPERING AND TAUNTING

CORRUPTING AND TWISTING MY MIND

YOU WIN.

 

Hmmm, you could be right, Whimper, but I'm not sure. I don't have a Blake collection, so I can't check, unless it's in one of my anthologies.

_________________

Come on, poets, let's see your stuff! Maybe I'll just have to post some more of my own! You sure you want that to happen?