Poetry from the heart

[RA]

Al thanks and Adey the words you use about picking things up are quite beautiful. There is undoubtedly a force which binds some people around Kate together in a common understanding.

I am posting some words here that are not mine (oh that they were)! They belong to Todd Rundgren. I love the way he says that he's ashamed to be afraid!! Perfection...........


PRETENDING TO CARE

Today I am your chariot horse
Tomorrow I'm your albatross
Suspended by the finest thread
No one could ever see
And when there's breathing in your ear
You put your faith in all you hear
But just how deep those feelings go
I have no way to know
I'll never know

If I was blind
Would you still be my eyes
Or hide everything you see
Pretending to care about me
When all the time
You're just wishing I'd fade away
You just can't bring yourself to

Say out loud the reasons why
You won't admit you realize
The promise you've been living by
Is just an empty shell
You'll come to bear it like a cross
Then start to tear it like frayed gauze
Though I'm ashamed to be afraid
I just can't help myself
Can't help myself

[Al Truest]

Music means less to me without the structure of meaningful words to convey the emotion. The music heightens and accentuates; but, good lyrics seperate the great artists from the performers.

[Al Truest]

Take what I give and throw it away
lament and unload and decry your dismay
what do you want, all I have is my heart
but you don't want to share, just tear it apart.

[Sven Golly]

What is your vice, do you dare let us know?
What would we think - how far would we go?
That veneer that you wear outside of your skin
can not hide the view of the person within.

[delacy]

I have enjoyed the poetry here very much, so much so I have posted two of my own - Ra, I love your poetry, you have the soul of an angel, there is no doubting it.


I Need

A Spirit in my own home.
I am not seen nor heard.
I am not woman,
I am Oracle.
Where is the…?
Where did you put…?
Have you got…?
Have you done…?
I am always there, but never Seen.
I know all, tend all, feed all.
I am Mother, Daughter, Wife.

I need more than the Air.
I need more than Water.
I need more…



And Fate is...

And Fate is the cruellest thing.
The door opened and showed me All,
but I cannot pass through to the warm.
My feet would be weighed down heavy with Sin.
Too many veils to tear,
too many hearts to break,
too much..
But my Reality
is not enough.
My Reality is cold,
my feet bleed on it's stones,
my path is straight and granite.
There is no comfort on my way, no ease.
My Reality is frost in the centre of the blaze.
It melts with spitting fury in the heat,
the fire struggles to live,
but the Frost will take it, extinguish all in the end.
Take my fire and turn me cold then….
Be kind Fate,
you may take away my pain.


DeLacy xx

[delacy]

I thought I'd share this too - it touches me in my most sardonic moments and yet it retains a cool beauty I cannot quite put my finger on - anyhow, it's here for you to see... Oscar is one of my favourite writers and I would recommend him to anyone who ever cries behind their smile!


Yet each man kills the thing he loves,
By each let this be heard,
Some do it with a bitter look,
Some with a flattering word,
The coward does it with a kiss,
The brave man with a sword!

Some kill their love when they are young,
And some when they are old;
Some strangle with the hands of Lust,
Some with the hands of Gold:
The kindest use a knife, because
The dead so soon grow cold.

Some love too little, some too long,
Some sell, and others buy;
Some do the deed with many tears,
And some without a sigh:
For each man kills the thing he loves,
Yet each man does not die.

An extract from 'The Ballad of Reading Gaol'
Oscar Wilde

Best

DeLacy xx

[Al Truest]

Thank you Delacy for your contributions. We seem to be getting more and more quality participation here.

As an exercise in a creative writing course in my University studies, we were to write a poem that began with....''Each man kills the thing he loves'' .......It started my love for poetry. Yet it was a duplicitous moment. My attempt was so sophomoric and raw, that I cringe whenever I think about it - ruining a great piece of art for me. Yet it did help reveal that I had some undiscovered skill as a writer. For that I am gratefu. But please - the rest of you enjoy it without the baggage I have with it.

[delacy]

Al said:

Thank you Delacy for your contributions. We seem to be getting more and more quality participation here.

As an exercise in a creative writing course in my University studies, we were to write a poem that began with....''Each man kills the thing he loves'' .......It started my love for poetry. Yet it was a duplicitous moment. My attempt was so sophomoric and raw, that I cringe whenever I think about it - ruining a great piece of art for me. Yet it did help reveal that I had some undiscovered skill as a writer. For that I am gratefu. But please - the rest of you enjoy it without the baggage I have with it.

Do you know Al, I wonder if its a poem that can only be truly appreciated if one has wandered in the world and pehaps has felt the loss of love, be it by one's own giving up or by being forced by pride or circumstance to give it away too soon.... Merely a ramble on my part and a hope that you may look at it again with new eyes unclouded by baggage.

[Al Truest]

delacy said:

Do you know Al, I wonder if its a poem that can only be truly appreciated if one has wandered in the world and pehaps has felt the loss of love, be it by one's own giving up or by being forced by pride or circumstance to give it away too soon.... Merely a ramble on my part and a hope that you may look at it again with new eyes unclouded by baggage.

Yes, life experience and loss certainly give perspective and insight. I have only tried revisiting this work with your post. Maybe enough time has passed. However, you have not read my early effort. If you had, you'd understand. (don't ask ) It kills it for me.

[delacy]

The writing muscle needs to grow like any other I think and perhaps asking people to emulate Wilde's style within the grasp of callow youth is rather like asking a learner artist to paint like Klimt or Van Gogh! But I shall not press you for details regarding to Wildean offerings Al ... My early writings (I have only published one book) were pretty gauche really, such painful, love-struck Historical scenarios! But there is nothing like poetry as an escape valve and there is some wonderful reading here.

DeLacy xx

[Al Truest]

delacy said:

The writing muscle needs to grow like any other I think and perhaps asking people to emulate Wilde's style within the grasp of callow youth is rather like asking a learner artist to paint like Klimt or Van Gogh!

Good point. You mention two of my favorites, with Kandinsky, Klee and Escher rounding out my top five.

But I shall not press you for details regarding to Wildean offerings Al ... My early writings (I have only published one book) were pretty gauche really, such painful, love-struck Historical scenarios!

Thanks, that makes me feel better.

But there is nothing like poetry as an escape valve and there is some wonderful reading here.

DeLacy xx

Your comments and contributions are appreciated. I do find it cathardic expressing myself through verse. The discipline requires going deep inside to qualify and quantify each word and what emotive quality it lends. As you say, it is a release mechanism. It is also a way to proof one's philosophy. Often people are afraid to look inside and share that with others. Much like me unwilling to share my undisciplined eary work. Also a possible reason Kate refused to release her Demo's or why she re-recorded Wuthering Heights.

[Al Truest]

Al said:

I do find it cathardic expressing myself through verse. The discipline requires going deep inside to qualify and quantify each word and what emotive quality it lends.

I must admit to being hasty with this comment. Although I do pour over every word in review of what I've written, especially the 'sausage' poems - my best work comes fluidly in torrents of inspiration.

[delacy]

Al said:

I must admit to being hasty with this comment. Although I do pour over every word in review of what I've written, especially the 'sausage' poems - my best work comes fluidly in torrents of inspiration.

Ahh! I know that feeling, its almost a channelling of simultaneous thought and emotion, it is fluid and feels spontaneous, but don't you notice the feeling of control which comes with it? It's like being guided by a higher thought level; akin to a form of Meditation almost, until that is, the Muse sighs, throws on his jacket and vowing softly to return to me, 'at some stage', promptly evaporates into the Ether!

I do agree with Escher by the way! But Klimt does it for me with his sensuality and his adoration of the female form, any man who can see women in that light, must have been touched by the Divine... Is anyone else here a fan of Aubrey Beardsley's graphic gorgeousness? I have placed a link here, if that is allowed, if it is not I shall never do it again, promise!

www.glyphs.com/art/beardsley/

DeLacy xx

[Al Truest]

delacy said:

Ahh! I know that feeling, its almost a channelling of simultaneous thought and emotion, it is fluid and feels spontaneous, but don't you notice the feeling of control which comes with it?

It is often like ''let me write this down before it is gone'' But much of the feeling of control for me is that over my emotions more than the words. Being able to tap into truth, as seen by one's self at least, comes from letting go of convention and pretense. To see what others may have missed is what good poetry often is. The art is passing on truth and beauty. Many times revealing beauty where it is not ordinarily found. And truth may just be a feeling or a revelation about where life is taking you. Are you a pathfinder, or just along for the ride? (rhetorical question of course)

It's like being guided by a higher thought level; akin to a form of Meditation almost, until that is, the Muse sighs, throws on his jacket and vowing softly to return to me, 'at some stage', promptly evaporates into the Ether!

The gift is knowing without study and doing without question. You set yourself as a receptical based on your life experience, I think. Having empathy and sensitivity to others is one path. The hyper-sensitivity to the plight of other's can be a haunting responsibility. Expressing the need for fairness and justice is where I feel most compelled.- Sharing the power of love and understanding. But some of the greatest works come from those who have lived with madness or darkness or tradgedy of some sort. Sharing those experiences can be liberating, at least temporarily, for the artist, and enlightening to the rest of us who are open to the message.

I do agree with Escher by the way!

The architect in me appreciates Escher. I hear he has a large following among mathmatician's as well.

But Klimt does it for me with his sensuality and his adoration of the female form, any man who can see women in that light, must have been touched by the Divine...

Agreed Another favorite of mine has a similar, albeit more raw, propensity for expressing this beauty - often by contrasting themes of sexuality and darkness. Egon Scheile was mentored by Klimt. Having similar styles, Scheile struggled more with his own sexual feelings (controversial and possibly flawed by the way), and those that he tried to reveal below the surface in his subjects. You may know of his work. Here is a gallery:

click on - Egon Scheile Gallery (images can be enlarged with a right-click)

Is anyone else here a fan of Aubrey Beardsley's graphic gorgeousness? I have placed a link here, if that is allowed, if it is not I shall never do it again, promise!

www.glyphs.com/art/beardsley/

DeLacy xx

We apparently like some of the same artist's. Thank you for the link - and of course it is O.K. Please share more of your interests and commentary.

[RA]

Thanks for your comment DeLacy. I'm very much enjoying reading these forums right now as I've always seen myself as something of a clunk head when it comes to the arts.
I seem to have developed a deep understanding of much but have a good knowledge of little.
I'll give an examples:-
Listening to the TV I hear a little classical music and think "that is beautiful" I wonder what it is - and then I never find out. Outcome, someone knowlegeable asks me if I like Mozart Something in Something Minor and I answer "I honestly don't know".
Then when it comes to painting and so on - I can name Dali and Warhol but my grasp on names is poor. I can see a Turner a mile off but couldnt spot a fake in the way an old colleague of mine at the auction house could.
Then books - I used to read so much but now so little. My mind is pre-occupied by flotsum and jetsum of life and culture runs through me and leaves it's mark but I don't often know what has influenced me.
Does any of this make any sense to anyone - I feel so 'uncultured'.
I watched my new Rufus Wainwright DVD last night and it filled me with light about life, art and everything. So much for us all to share and so little time.
Blimey that was deep for a Sunday morning - hitting post before I lose my nerve.
But I'm a happy girl today so that'll have to do.