This is my attempt to write a poem in the same style as E. A. Poe's creation "The Raven".
A Childhood Episode
Once - when walking - I came past; an elder tree, flamboyant vast
it's branches reaching high into the winter skies
as I sat down 'mongst the roots, kicking of my dirty boots
there came hoots and toots and muffled cries
from above in the crown of ice
and I quickly shut my coward's eyes
How dark the sky now seemed to be, underneath this spooky tree
I was too afraid to uncover my disguise
what ghastly creatures could be found, making such a scary sound
were they bound, bound to the tree by ties,
forever caught, making nothing but sighs?
I shut tight my coward's eyes
Silence fell upon the lands, and I unwrapped my shaking hands
I heard no further whining cries
was it a trick, this gruesome find, a product of a tired mind?
heartrate declined, as I unwined my horror's size
but forthcame to me a big surprise
when I unscrewed my coward' eyes
Right behind me, in the snow, sat a starving baby crow
and I felt love inside my heart arise
it was a cry for aid, that the crow had made,
not afraid, in my pocket he laid to escape the snow and ice
how could I ever find demise
in his staring, beady, charcoal eyes
And now, a poem in my own free style. The subject is taken from my own life.
The Bastards took the Lilac
How proud were you not, lilac
queen of bushes, your arms reaching high and strong
lining the tower of stone.
Your flowers filled the yard with summer,
summersglow like sweet perfume
and sunstreaks through your leaves.
For twenty years or more
you had thrived beneath the tower of stone.
You would hide the bumblebees
under your hands,
gently carresing their tiny forms
or swiftly brush my cheek
as I walked by
hurrying home from summer storms.
New times came for the tower of stone.
Cars need room, no questions asked.
But it was in expense of your court,
the grass, the shrubs, the bumblebees.
Only asphalt left,
and not a trace from the trees.
This is a lament for values forgotten,
a lament because some minds are rotten
But I will always remember where you had your throne
in a sunpatch among shadows
by the tower of stone.
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2 kommentarer:
You could become the Ursula Rucker of Sweden. I love both the poems, but your language leaves me in awe. Not so surprising considering that you're awesome.
Keep it up.
Really great poems. I like the way the first one changes from expressing fear to expressing compassion, relief and joy. I like the second one too, how it gives expression to something you llove and loose, that is beyond your power to do anything about. I think it's something all of us can recognise. I think your writing shows that your skill in the english language equals your creative mind. Impressive.
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