George's Poetry

[georgek]

Prophetic Actors

The venue is set, as the actors prepare to take the stage. Remnants of old loom by, as each takes his cue. A ’hush’ envelopes the audience, as the atmosphere changes to the scene of the day.

Actors tread the stage once more… gallant and proud, heads held high as the scene unfolds. Brandishing their costumes gallantly and tireless they move forward.

The scene is set, as crumpled men of old take their wares of parchments anew, for act two, scene two is the way of the day.

Their noble crowns still intact, each nods to the audience as they quietly take their place ready to perform.

The audience is in cheer, for they have returned, unscathed, untarnished and wiser. Pages turn, and the story begins, a gentle hush of serenity fills the air as the act unfolds.

Soon it will be time to bring the curtain down. The lights will go out and the stage will be empty again, yet each in his heart will carry the gift, and the actors will go home, never to return for their work is finished.

The doors have closed and the lights have gone out.
But the stage is silent now
'Still' voices are heard ....deep within....... as the pages slowly turn.
The actors thread woven within a parchment of fineness as the book slowly closes.

[georgek]

Why is my life in turmoil O' great god of the sky?
Have I not trod thy humble path of life?
Watered the crop of forgiveness
Hoisted my flag on the highest mast as I set sail

Through turbulent winds has my ship sailed
Her timbered wounds soaked with salt
My brine of sorrow like watered tears,
Through jagged rocks my ship did flounder
Cutting the stern as she bleeds the oil that thy hands have toiled.

Did every port not write her name, as she docked her load?
Her wondrous cargo has fed the poor that even thy eyes have seen.

Let my ship with creaking timbers cast her sail to southern winds;
That ye may blow her home
No more rough waters to rock her bow
So may you lift the fog with a sweep of thy hand
To where both ship and man go home to die.

Did not they ship serve thee in time of need?
When her bow creaked and rats did flee?
Did not her stern thou did bleed stood by thee?

In rocky seas did she venture thee; unhindered by gales that be?
When other ships rained with good luck florals,
Thou endured pain along the corals

Many ports have embarked thee, through many lives thou has seen
The beginning of life and the end of death,
When two seas meet, they often greet.
Like the wheel of a ship, we loose our grip

The kindled spark that lights the flame
Is often hid within the pain
Did not thy lantern in the fog, guide thy ship through jaggered rocks ?

Hoist thy sail my friend of woes
Rest thy tired limbs and wing, like the seagull, and sky born eagle

I see a gull in my minds eye,
where ships and men sail home to die.

Where no more, will the wind beat on a tired sail
All ridden holed and almost pale

Rest thy timbers on the sand..... both boat and weary bosons hand,
That ye may never take afloat a vessel laden full of woes.

[georgek]

The wizened old man of Wizpuri Dock
Had lifted hs eyes to his grandfather's clock
He gazed with a smile.... and pondered a while,
Then shook his grey fist at the great wooden block

He came "fourth in the mile", but hindered a while
For now he was old and decrepid and vile
Not a smile had he dared, for those who had stared
As he hobbled along from Wizpuri Dock


He grasped his last breath, as he forcast his death
For the time he had guessed was more than his best
In time he had called for man and his lord
But dithered and croaked as he suffered a stroke

Fell to his feet all laden with grief
Frail and defeated or like a bloated graffitist
He looked at the time, hence grappled a smile
As he groveled and choked all bewildered and broke


He fell on his back that had tumbled and cracked
And gazed at the clock from Wizpuri Dock
The clock it had struck...... without even a cluck
As the wiizened old man lay dead as a duck

Had he strived back in time and altered it's chime?
Then would he have died as he gazed at the time?
All tightened and torqued despite that he was short

Like the clock on the wall that cheated his fall
To alter it's chime from the clement of time?
That man should stay tall despite his great fall
Is to kindle the lines of the face on the dial?
As to tell it stop by a man at the dock

To lay dead at it's heel at Wizpuri Dock!
But.... suffer the men who looks ill at their clock!
As nothing will move, and all is still as a rock!
From ghosts that are born....from Wizpuri Dock.

[georgek]

I strived the ground on this dear mound
With sword held high, I hit the ground
My armoured chest had took the pound
Of a cannon ball so large and round
That spun my sword all proud and torn
To the ground… where it was formed.

A silence passed just for a while
Then a tile was laid across my breast
To remember me in time of strength
Now as I lay unto my bed.

Forgotten dreams of Kings and Queens
The layman's fork all pitched with scorn
To prep the fields for those who steal
Lay waste and barren for a Baron

Sweet grass and flowers pleased my gaze
Then the field was full of corn and maize
As I watched the seasons slowly change

Harsh winds blew the lucid soils
As man had cut with sword and scythe
That never before had looked at the sky
But knelt the earth in all the dirt
Where he was born from birth to girth

To pass asunder from his grave
To view the earth that God had made
He takes it back from breaking backs
Through death and toil and folly man's foil

I watched a while as years passed by
As people slowly died

Then silence fell on this ill mound
No sun or moon or harvest groom
To till the clutching hands on straw

No God.....or dog, or maiden’s frock
Had come to lend a helping hand,
For man had tired just like his God

Like my rusted scabbard sword
Lay dead and waste beneath my gaze
As I truly did I fall to waste.

I closed my eyes and fell asleep
No longer could I hear children weep
As they lay deep into a heap; poisoned breasts of those who ferried
Lay squalled and buried by those who cherished

No grave or mass or patron's cast, religious gash.......
Nor surplus cash could save the torn and festered trash
That man had grazed with shaven haste

With hand held high into the sky
He beckons me, and asks me, as I wonder why ?

[georgek]

Tired Love



Did I not say that I loved her.......
As I held her hand so tightly when there was a tempest?

The sea was calm and the sky was blue for a while
Her youthful smile most radiant, as our souls entwined

For we had sailed many journeys and spoke of oneness

Then when the sea had unleashed it's rage once more...
Did I not go back and hold her hand?

But the hand had wizened and the soul had tired, as I gently let her go.

[lewi]

Perhaps you should find a publisher as you are a intellectually gifted individual and your talent is profound i wish i could say i hold a similar talent that i could share with you on this thread but i do not however i will continue to enjoy your poetic nature as it provides me with much more insight into your being.

Carry on composing as i am enjoying your works Geroge :)

[onourwayto2012]

georgek, I'm not into poetry but you definitely have a way with words!

[georgek]

Perhaps you should find a publisher as you are a intellectually gifted individual and your talent is profound i wish i could say i hold a similar talent that i could share with you on this thread but i do not however i will continue to enjoy your poetic nature as it provides me with much more insight into your being.

Carry on composing as i am enjoying your works Geroge :)

Thank you lewi, :)

The strange thing, is that earlier in life, I was a complete failure in both the English Language and English Literature. I think I got an 'E' grade?

It was only later, that I went to college and university, but my discipline was science.

Now a computer engineer, since I was qualified about 1996.

I feed from my overself, where all knowledge is stored.

Wrote a lot of my poems about four years ago.

Regards George

[quetzalcoatl]

Prophetic Actors

The venue is set, as the actors prepare to take the stage. Remnants of old loom by, as each takes his cue. A ’hush’ envelopes the audience, as the atmosphere changes to the scene of the day.

Actors tread the stage once more… gallant and proud, heads held high as the scene unfolds. Brandishing their costumes gallantly and tireless they move forward.

The scene is set, as crumpled men of old take their wares of parchments anew, for act two, scene two is the way of the day.

Their noble crowns still intact, each nods to the audience as they quietly take their place ready to perform.

The audience is in cheer, for they have returned, unscathed, untarnished and wiser. Pages turn, and the story begins, a gentle hush of serenity fills the air as the act unfolds.

Soon it will be time to bring the curtain down. The lights will go out and the stage will be empty again, yet each in his heart will carry the gift, and the actors will go home, never to return for their work is finished.

The doors have closed and the lights have gone out.
But the stage is silent now
'Still' voices are heard ....deep within....... as the pages slowly turn.
The actors thread woven within a parchment of fineness as the book slowly closes.

Nice one dude. :)

[quetzalcoatl]

Scenes of despair - unable to help,
Vague visions of pain - when do ya act.
Happens all the same - knew all along,
Looking back now - little too late.

Whispers of a dream - yet to pass,
Reeling in horror - but changes not.
Try pay little heed - least it manifest,
Watch it unfold - not surprising at all.

[georgek]

georgek, I'm not into poetry but you definitely have a way with words!

Thank you

George

[georgek]

Nice one dude. :)

This tells of everyone we meet and listen to.

That throughout our lives, we come across things that may not make sense at the time, but in years to come, we may remember a person (or their words) when the time is right.

That the things that we have now, will one day pass, but not forgotten because as we evolve with our souls, we will come across a time when these words are written deep within our subconscious.

[georgek]

Final Journey

Wake me when I have made the crossing said the old man, unless I wake and find you gone.

I fear the night and the dark forest, for I am old and weak and I carry the tolls of life on my shoulders. My burden is heavy and my sight is dim.

My frail hands can no longer grasp my path’s endurance.

Lay down your heavy burden said the voice that you may walk with me, and put your frail hand on my shoulder and let the torch of hope guide you through the darkness.

I fear the night air.....I feel the cold and the loneliness that surround us like icicles on a frosty morn,

The torch of hope flickers profoundly through the cold breath of men’s sins.

I see tears cascade like dew from leaves on a misty day. A great envelope surrounds me as I gasp for breath, as the sheer vastness unfolds itself.

I perish like a sinking grain of sand in a vast ocean, to be forgotten and to die said the old man.

How vast is thy God said the voice, and how pure is thy heart to feel his pain.
Trouble thee not on thy journey, for he is not far away. To feel his pain, is to know his love.

I shall never leave thee… as I am the light in men’s hearts, the hope and aspiration of all their fears.

As they may strive forward till the end of time!.

[quetzalcoatl]

This tells of everyone we meet and listen to.

That throughout our lives, we come across things that may not make sense at the time, but in years to come, we may remember a person (or their words) when the time is right.

That the things that we have now, will one day pass, but not forgotten because as we evolve with our souls, we will come across a time when these words are written deep within our subconscious.

Beautifully fuckin illustrated! :)

Believe it or not I know exactly wot ya mean.. ;) I think.. :D

I'm all outa poetry, however.. :p

[georgek]

Rumble, tumble the bells of thunder,
Crackling vines and pungent pines
Booms from tombs that quake from June
Oh’ wretched beasts with tongues unleashed…..
Who strike the poor and sting like bees.
With wrath unleashed by those who screech….

Beasts shall moan as light unfolds……
They wring and crack, through air so black!
That shadows fall like tumbling jacks…..
No light dispels, unto this gloom,
Amidst the wrath and witches broom
As wondering maidens, search for grooms.
All dead and buried, from years of doom

Unto this heap is my demise,
That wondering flocks shall scuttle by…..
All raven black, with pageant flags
That flutter by from ruptured cracks
They squawk and crawl from rich to poor
My hands held high as death fell by.
From astral beasts who tease and feast!

[quetzalcoatl]

Rumble, tumble the bells of thunder,
Crackling vines and pungent pines
Booms from tombs that quake from June
Oh’ wretched beasts with tongues unleashed…..
Who strike the poor and sting like bees.
With wrath unleashed by those who screech….

Beasts shall moan as light unfolds……
They wring and crack, through air so black!
That shadows fall like tumbling jacks…..
No light dispels, unto this gloom,
Amidst the wrath and witches broom
As wondering maidens, search for grooms.
All dead and buried, from years of doom

Unto this heap is my demise,
That wondering flocks shall scuttle by…..
All raven black, with pageant flags
That flutter by from ruptured cracks
They squawk and crawl from rich to poor
My hands held high as death fell by.
From astral beasts who tease and feast!

Das awesome dude! :cool:

[georgek]

Beautifully fuckin illustrated! :)

Believe it or not I know exactly wot ya mean.. ;) I think.. :D

I'm all outa poetry, however.. :p

LOL...thanks.

[georgek]

The Gates of Hell

Amidst the hate and slurry, I saw The Goat of Menzies hurry!

The fiddler’s tune all hyped amd flurried, as devils danced with rage fury.

For marriage be, the way to hell as bells rang out from the well,

Many voices echoed from the earth,
Consumed by hate and 'devils bait'

To tread the ground that God had found by man's demise, as often found.

Deny the peace beneath the ground of floury.....
Hear the bells of old Nick's hurry,

Consumed in hate and pittered waste from broken bread in torrid haste,

That men shall die all kneeled and broken ,
Then lie down flat; from having spoken............
All pale and gaunt from gods out spoken !

To die in sin without a grin, all humble bound in coppice mounds,
A simple cross that we have crossed, settles down with ripe green moss.

Plural verbs, no festered words, announced in deeds by floral treats,

That we be saved from the grave...... by holy men with scorn and hate

So Jesus Christ will, one day rise,
Then every stone will win a prize

Praying mantles, books and candles strain the way as others pay,

That we be paved by hymn and cantors written well by devils lanterns

Let us to pass.....
From Mass to grass, then see the heavens open fast

Oh evil beasts who come to feast from hypocrites in demented pits,
Lay down your wrath that I may pass where neither man or beast be cast

Bow down to the ground that I be bound
Relinquish me from words of Deans.

Fiery words and hell bent verbs, a psalm or lay, as we pray.

The Book of Job consumes thy lot,

Deacon beacons , vermin sermons, pause the platter for the hatter

No devil’s plot will ever rock, a striving soul with a heart of gold.

That I may pass unto a realm made pure and clean for those who

dream.

[quetzalcoatl]

Hmm.. some dark stuff there man! :D

Talent indeed. :)

[limelady]

I'm not a massive poetry fan george, but there is some fantastic expression in your poems!

Thanks for sharing......and its lovely to see you have emerged out of the rant room!

Keep it coming! :)

[georgek]

I'm not a massive poetry fan george, but there is some fantastic expression in your poems!

Thanks for sharing......and its lovely to see you have emerged out of the rant room!

Keep it coming! :)


Well...one tries to remain humble, but often drawn into dark corridors:)

George

[georgek]

Hmm.. some dark stuff there man! :D

Talent indeed. :)

One often sees the wider spectrum , sometimes hidden but always noted.
As love often hides pain .

Such is our strive, to overcome the negativity of man.

That the only evil is what man creates. :)

[georgek]

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[georgek]

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