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#218239 - 04/15/08 06:06 AM my friends, love and experience
dark empathy Offline
Member
MaleSurvivor

Registered: 11/26/07
Posts: 1963
Loc: durham, north england
Beside the tiny crackling blaze,
We sit a circle gathered round,
My friend the bard holds us amazed,
His voice a golden ringing sound.

My friend the warrior lifts her sword,
Her eyes full of determined light,
As she heres of the reward,
that waits somewhere out in the night.


"there is a city, where the sun always shines. It stands on a promentary which juts out into the glittering blue ocean, and everyday the sun shimmers down on the gold and alabasta towers,
the gates are made of spun gold leaf, and from behind them you can here the sound of ripling bird song and see the guardens full of a million flowers.

You can't stay there forever, ---- or at least, most people don't, ---- but it's the sort of place it's worth seeing at least once in your life"

Across the circle of fire light,
My friend the scheptic scowls a snear,
And in his robes of gleaming white,
he starts to speak his voice a jeer.

"I went looking for your city once. Yes, it's there, but you've got it all wrong. It's a desert town, with walls of rough harsh sandstone. the streets are full of dust, and the trees are hard cacti oozing gum and spines. The gate's aren't gold, but polished steel, and at night you can smell the sweet, cloying oder of cented oil. the sun is a red ball of burning brilliance, and the sea shines like a polished copper plate harsh and blinding. Visit it if you like, ---- but if you ask me it's not worth the journey"

the sceptic's words fill me with dread,
for I've seen desert paths before,
the sand a vicious burning red,
the endless night a gapin maw.

Across the fire the sorceress,
another friend; though beyond my ken,
runs fingers through a gleaming tress,
and answers in a quiet tone.

"I've seen both cities, ---- but the one the bard speaks of is much more worth visiting. I bought this back from there myself, ---- seee?"

And from her hair she plucks A ROSE,
It's pettles gleaming soft and dim,
The bard to his companion goes,
And she gives a similar flower to him.

he holds it up for all to see,
and strums a theme upon his lute,
And we gaze in revery,
And though he scowl's, the sceptic's mute.

The bard's companion turns to him,
a shining smile cross her face,
And tells us how we might begin,
to think to enter such a place.

"As far as I understand it, for some people it's a short road and for some people it's long,
It all depends where your starting from,
the only thing is, it's not a road you can journey on alone. You have to begin it together, ---- and enter the city together or not at all"

the sceptic gives an angry nod,
His spotless robes swirld in the breeze,
And with an unfeeling callous word,
he unhappily agrees.

"Well that part's true at least. You do have to go with someone else, ---- but the rest of it about flowers! is pure nonsense!
Nothing can grow in a desert"

And at his words a memory ,
of torment in the desert lands,
comes to rest and tortures me,
And I remember my old wounds.

but my friend the warrior; unafraid,
Laughs a smile against the night,
her sword unshiethed, she stands unscathed,
Her hair a gleam of golden light.

"well, I don't care either way. The city the bard speaks of sounds nicer, ---- but if it's the desert town and the sceptic is right, ---- so what, it sounds like quite an interesting place to visit anyway. I'm going to dam well find this out for myself, however long it takes me to get there. Now who is with me?"

And with her friend she ventures forth,
With confidence into the black,
and I know that if she finds the truth,
she'll tell me when she at last comes back.

I begin to play a game of chess,
with someone else in firelight,
Her voice a fall of soft sweetness,
Her spirit burning fair and bright.

And as we play game after game,
and laugh at songs we here played,
I think of walking cross the plane,
To seek the city, unafraid.

"Oh yes, I've been to the city, ---- the golden one I mean. It really is more beautiful than you can possibly imagine"

and as she speaks a falling star,
A silvered dart descends the skies,
and a ray of hope from afar,
Strikes me like a swift sunrise.

for if she already knows the way,
to the city of gleaming gold,
she surely wouldn't lead me astray,
to the horrific desert land.

but when in stuttering tone I ask,
If on that road she'll be my guide,
with kindness sharp as broken glass,
My request's gently denied.

and my despare wells like a cloud,
Of mirky smoke fuiled with denile,
And as it weaves it's smothering shroud,
i see the fire begin to die.


As beside the dying coals,
I sit and shiver in the night,
I here more of the travelers tales,
Of the city of golden light.

but though many speak of that place,
Others speak of the desert town,
and at each mention I feel a trace,
Of the fear that weighs me down.

A noble lady with words so kind,
to explain the truth to me,
that there are some places of sand,
In the brilliant land beside the sea.

"Well of course there's a sand guarden, ---- but the sand is soft and white as sea foam, and there the flower's grow even more beautifuly, and the sky is a rich pouder blue. At night they light lamps of cented oil and the flames dance across the gleaming white sand, and all the streets around the sand guarden are full of the smell of burning hibiscus. It's not a horrifying place, ---- but just part of the main city, and it makes the rest even more lovely"

But stil the fear holds me back,
and the memory of the desert night,
Of torture in the boundless black,
And barren lands that know no light.

And when the warrior returns,
She's stil wears her cloak of blue,
her sword stil held with no concern,
And yet there's something different too.

"well yes, I've been to the city, ---- and it's fantastic. Actually there's beauty in the desert as well, ---- and yee gods! you need someone to gently show you the way there. Desert travel's it's own art, but it can be really rewarding, especially when your on your way to the city. You've been here for far too long, ---- and your begining to die of cold. Dammit but you really need someone to show you the way there!"

but no one will show me the way,
or gently start to guide me there,
and my friend the warrior cannot say,
How I should find a guide; ---- or where.

and the night grows dark and cold,
the embers of the fire glow,
i can no longer dream of gold,
I'm left with nothing but shaddow.

I wish that I could just forget,
the tales I've heard of the city's light,
and learn to live for ever yet,
beside dying coals in deepest night.

It is not for me,
never to be,
Only a dream,
barred by fear,
in darkness unclear.
I should forget ever hereing of the city, ----- if i can.





Edited by dark empathy (04/15/08 09:55 AM)

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#218242 - 04/15/08 06:12 AM Re: my friends, love and experience [Re: dark empathy]
roadrunner Offline
Administrator Emeritus
MaleSurvivor

Registered: 05/02/05
Posts: 22045
Loc: Carlisle, PA
Luke,

I'm glad you heard of the city, and these others have told you because they know you have the strength to get there. One day you will look back on this poem and smile and think, "Oh yeah, I remember ...."

Much love,
Larry

_________________________
Nobody living can ever stop me
As I go walking my freedom highway.
Nobody living can make me turn back:
This land was made for you and me.
(Woody Guthrie)

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#218251 - 04/15/08 07:07 AM Re: my friends, love and experience [Re: roadrunner]
dark empathy Offline
Member
MaleSurvivor

Registered: 11/26/07
Posts: 1963
Loc: durham, north england
Back when the warrior and I first heard of this, ---- in the first year of my degree, I might have believed you larry. But now I'm not so sure.

In fact what she said at the end of the poem is almost exactly what she advised me last time I spoke to her.

I'm really sorry about writing such a negative poem, this is part of the acceptence thing which I was trying to talk about with the last poem.


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#218306 - 04/15/08 12:44 PM Re: my friends, love and experience [Re: dark empathy]
roadrunner Offline
Administrator Emeritus
MaleSurvivor

Registered: 05/02/05
Posts: 22045
Loc: Carlisle, PA
Luke,

Originally Posted By: dark empathy
I'm really sorry about writing such a negative poem, this is part of the acceptence thing which I was trying to talk about with the last poem.


I don't think you should regret posting poems like this, and certainly you should not be sorry. You are simply stating how you feel. That's a basic reality, even if the feelings themselves are false. For example, suppose you have a feeling about yourself that's totally untrue. You have to acknowledge and own that feeling; you have to be able to admit to yourself that this is how you feel, even if you already suspect that the feeling is untrue. Our feelings are always the place where we have to start. That's what you are doing in this poem - acknowledging how you feel and trying to decide what to do about it.

Much love,
Larry

_________________________
Nobody living can ever stop me
As I go walking my freedom highway.
Nobody living can make me turn back:
This land was made for you and me.
(Woody Guthrie)

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#218425 - 04/15/08 10:09 PM Re: my friends, love and experience [Re: roadrunner]
dark empathy Offline
Member
MaleSurvivor

Registered: 11/26/07
Posts: 1963
Loc: durham, north england
thanks larry.

Last week I spent a lot of energy trying to physically hammer at this sort of feeling, and caused myself a lot of pain doing it. I'm doing this on the advice of my friend the counceler (she who I refer to as the noble lady in this poem). I do feel less exhausted and shattered doing things this way which is good, ----- but I will also admit there's part of me which is thinking "so, what am I going to do about this sort of feeling" But I'll just continue on with the poems whenever I can as an outlet and see how things go.


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