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Bits of poetry

Like it says... two longer finished things, three really short things.

In order: a poem about a story teller, a four-liner I translated from Japanese, two poems/chants I developed for a culture of mine, and a longer piece about schools and being a faceless number.



I knew an old man who sat in a corner
And spoke of many things.
Of far-off kingdoms, dark enchantments,
Fairy queens and kings.
But all the people pass him by,
They have no time to hear.
In their minds these vivid tales
Were boring and unclear.
They don't want to hear the old man
Tell them anything,
They want stories short and simple,
And placed upon a screen.
Still this old man keeps on talking,
Every single day.
Telling tales to the children
Gathered 'round to play.
He hopes that one day they will see
The beauty of the word,
And maybe someday
They will repeat
The magical adventures
They have heard.
------------------------------------
At times when there is no light,
And at times I think of you,
I become sad.
Are you and the darkness one and the same?
(translated from Japanese, roughly)
------------------------------------
Pull away the shadowy veil,
Send the stars to silent sleep.
Make the sun begin to sail
Across the heavenly ocean deep.
------------------------------------
Douse the sun, end the day,
Chase the light all far away.
Call the moon, bring the night,
Let our dreams go free to fly.
------------------------------------
"By the Numbers"

Student number 1256 has had a bad day.
It shoves through the human sardine can of the hallway,
With a muttered curse when students 3052 and 0109 stop to chat.
Two teachers, Mr. X and Miss Y, try to clear the way,
But they have no first names and so the students don't hear them.
Down in the office the secretary answers phones,
And relays messages without grasping the words.
The principal sits in his office and untangles the strings
Of all the neatly numbered marionettes he rules over.
Counselors hand out pamphlets and read from rule books,
Giving generic solutions to the stream of numbers that seek their help.
1256 sits in one of a thousand clone desks,
In a box of walls, barred windows and closed, locked doors.
Then someone walks up, and greets 1256 by name,
And she remembers that she is herself, a person,
No matter how much the world tries to make her a number,
And she smiles.




I had this crazy idea for an icon.... there are two J-rock/pop guys named "You" (yo-oo) and "Die" (dee-eh) right? Make an icon with both of them, and just write "You. Die." on it. *snicker*

My phrase for the day: GET THEE TO A NUNNERY! (I miss Jax....)