Archive for April 2nd, 2012
Poetic License is the part of Morning Erection that allows me to showcase some of the great poets that I find in my travels throughout the Internet. I have found that by posting works by other bloggers often brings more traffic to their site as well as mine and that is a good thing.
Poetic License is scheduled for the first Monday in every month. I ask if you find a poem that touches you in some way either leave a comment for the author or visit their blog and let them know. April marks the first time I have posted a poem of a blogger without a link to his site. I do have permission from Hunter to post his poem but no blog. Additionally I am featuring a poem from a micro-blogger from Tumblr. Thank you for reading.
I am a beast, my beauty in reverse
I roar because I seethe with pain
From a broken heart in need of love
Looking for my love to see more
See me, see me
A beast caged longing to be free
Unlock the chains that bind my heart
That I may be transformed
My heart newly restored
A beast no longer
Set me free, set me free
by Rudolph Consuegra
New to this sea, I am now lost.
In this ocean, I disappear,
Only a thrall to lunacy.
On this voyage, I am star-crossed.
My mind’s chaos is what I fear.
My sights cleared, I try to reach the sun.
Yet, it is way far from my hand’s reach.
Lonely at the verdant grounds, I yearn.
Blinded by awe, I seek its breach.
Both towards and away I cannot run.
Halfway there, the radiance takes my sight.
Minor to this light as it always burns.
Its captivating wonder is my envy.
Yet to grasp its glory takes all my might.
This star’s radiance is what my heart yearns.
As I approach the shores of this paradise,
I contemplate on how I sought its glory;
An exodus from darkness- enlightenment.
Enduring the flames, I shall tell this story.
Through these trials, I conquer lunacy’s vice.
Now at one with my subconscious, I will now shine.
I will shed my light on the lost to find their way.
As I become the glory in the black hours,
I will have become much like the sun’s golden ray.
The lunacy in my heart will now intertwine.
While those on the green land will heed my advice,
The laws of the universe I still obey,
I am always inferior to the stars.
The burden of all the stars I cannot weigh.
I can only share a fractions to suffice.
My grandeurs have simply been a flight.
My retreat from my troublesome concerns.
To be one with the stars is heresy:
An eclipse to destroy other’s discerns.
Instead of dreams, I would become a blight.
Fallacies born from what fate have spun.
One day, its glory I shall beseech.
Not now, but when its power is lost.
Only then, shall the wise masters preach:
Shining at night, over which I won.
My passion burns beyond my frost.
I have both lost and won this sphere
Having conquered my lunacy,
Conquering doubts, my mind is clear.
Through the night, my glory is tossed.
Sometimes in my gut,
There’s this feeling.
When I know something I want,
Just isn’t going to happen.
It creeps upon me,
At night when I’m sleeping,
And I know that what I expect
And what will occur are different.
It isn’t a good or a bad thing,
Just being wrong and knowing
That what has gotten your hopes up
Is going to make them dash right back down.
Nobody is to blame, nobody is at fault,
My heart’s just quick to attach
To false hopes. Just quick to expect
When there’s just no spark.
No spark. Nobody to blame.
Just empty fireworks on a cold
New Years Eve,
My heart breaking.
staring at them.
who have forgotten
what it’s like to be human.
the rain will water us.
like the sedentary vegetation
we have come to be.
by the drug ethereal.
our cherubic minds.
Lack of Gravity
A tornado surrounded us
Binding us together,
Then the wind blew you away
In a sudden change of weather.
You caught me when I fell
And dried all of my tears,
With three simple words
You washed away my fears.
You gave me all I needed
A hand, a heart, a friend,
And now I can’t believe
How you brought things to an end.
I suddenly had no cushion
And quickly struck the ground,
The tears ran down my face
For you were not around.
But I’ve worked my way back up
Forgiven, forgotten, and moved on,
Mended my heart back together
And now all thoughts of you are gone.
by Dara Sonjé
Ivy and St. John’s flowers
along the river bank,
next to an elder’s barn.
strewn next to rusty hoes and spades
are lost garden beds of wealth,
and the herbs for renewing.
A sudden spring wells up inside Seed-Sowers.
They remember 1 year’s prior
how all-winter days were painful, birthed from
a binding (early) frost
wiping clean all mercy for abundant harvests…
This new day, a heightened dawn has been unearthed,
stringy moss and catatonic roots
bleed sounds of pleasure.
walk the rows where alfalfa and melon will soon
be planted/new lives
are welcome now.
Dew is falling into Tending Hands
who brush off strains of water drops gently thawing.
Vines wrapped ’round wooden fences
(the splintered vision contended with 1 year’s prior)…
bloom with sweetened rage,
fruits from its labor
This morning is a vessel,
proud with dedication: sparking challenge
against petty lies that nothing grows from destruction.
This morning is a vessel,
engorged with bounty: feeding gratitude and insight.
Momentum under foot, breaking sound currents
dark soil and the rocks.
Struggle is a Gift.
A package delicate to touch and indestructible.
Where shedding skin, molting deadened habits, are the Striving.
(The Gardener’s Potion)
slowly squeezed from
a formless mist,
steeped in thorned vitality,
from leaves scorched with sanity,
and gravity unbound,
(a lush devotion).
coiled in each others sleep
you kiss my forehead
i kiss your forehead
the sun creeps in
and we’re wrapped like presents for each other
in each other
arm, arm, leg, leg
tangled like satisfied shoelaces
knots of “i love you”s
in whispers and sighs
groans of delight
nuzzles and cuddles
you are my pleasure plight.
Often (a dedication to Lucy)
by Matthew Hunter
I thought about you
this morning and
A smile formed and my cheeks widened
Neurons fired returning to memory
thoughts of our night before
I thought about you
just last night and
As my head touched down
on my pillow
Images of you penetrate my dreams and the moon rises
I thought about you
yes, just now
What are you doing and have I
today crossed your mind
Aroma of mocha and cream or is it your sweet breath
It matters not because I think of you often
All Rights Reserved © by their respective authors. Tom Baker and his Morning Erection blog make no claims to any poetry other than his own.
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