You are currently browsing the tag archive for the ‘poet’ tag.

Poet’s notes : The story of our man, illustrated in the letter, is very abstract. The lines must not be taken literally or physically, in the man’s interactions with the tree and the experiences he goes through. I didn’t want to restrict the reader’s imagination. It is written in such a way, that you join the dots in your own unique way. What is this key? Maybe it’s a fruit from this accursed vampyric tree, maybe it is an actual key that opens a door inside the tree where the man enters. Maybe the roaming soul mentioned at the beginning of the poem possesses the man, and inhabits his mind with all these thoughts of him being a tree, it’s all up to the reader. I found similarities in the nature of trees that are vampyric in my opinion that I wanted to exploit ,away from the traditional ‘bat-tale’. The bottom line of this piece that I really want to emphasize is this: What if vampirism isn’t just merely a bat-bite? What if it’s something more? A biological or metaphorical mutation of pure human emotions and feelings like lust, greed and power. My endeavor in this piece is to explore those emotions and emphasize on human frailty and weakness, realization of the vanity, of the beautiful promise of immortality and then ending the letter with melancholy remorse.Thus, the opening line “Someone died of looking too far”, Hope I delivered such ideas into your mind and thanks for reading.

“Someone died of looking too far”

The forest near Golgoltha is like flesh to a bone,
It’s been there since the beginnings of time.
Now that flesh bleeds and the bone’s become weak,
The trees hold sway to an ancient rhyme.
Maybe from a pebble, maybe a stone,
A soul began to roam seeking different forms.
And maybe it gathered a lust for immortality
Even greed!
All that is certain is the blackness,
of this seed.
Now it lurks within an oak tree,
In the forest of Golgoltha
Where no one is to wander free.
But as the fate’s tragic strings do play,
A man happened to go astray.
A man with a character, who’s ever hungry,
Ever in need for more!
That never finds rest,
Never reaches shore.
They say he met his end,
Leaving behind him only a note,
buried underneath a tree,
In the forest of Golgoltha,
where no one is to wander free.

“There is a key,
Beneath the tree,
Made from its morbid leaves,
It reveals an ever-open door of unease.

Its branches shape my twisted thoughts,
And I crave what the trees really sought.
But entering is agony to the world untaught,
Of control, anger and remorse,
And I will be the center of its knot.

I realize I’m more,
As I dance in its rain,
I’m angelic!
Yet truthfully vain,
I perceive my dark strains,
I see them reflected on a tiny sand grain.

They are trees,
Rotten pulp inside and never well.
Roots sucking, ever-growing, undying thirst!
Tired boughs* reaching for the light.

Decadent, Taking from others to live.
Bound forever to marvel at death.

And now I have become like them,
Sucking crimson fluid through a hollow stem.
Driven by hunger, weak in the light
Never at ease, roaming the night.

An unfettered beast within me,
Claiming sovereign control.
I pace deserted roads to find,
A refreshing taste of hope.

This is now my home that will,
hungrily devour my own name,
and my soul gladly kill,
with no deep enough, a grave.

While the moon is riding high
A veiled feeling is flaking inside
Where beauty sleeps in the lap of horror!

I feel the dark
I feel the dark…”

Advertisements

Note : My creative Hat is a poem regarding a art director thoughts.

I am holding a hat where ideas are filled

I am holding a book where my figures speak

I am holding a pen where it makes me to run

 

I draw with imaginations in my stage of ground

I give life to it and express around the colors

I move around to find out a letter with wings

Which makes me to think what I should?

 

I love to draw and love to be with drawing

I love to get things all around and be with it

I love to collect and make it all in joy

I love to be with colors so as to make colorful

 

My life is full of threads which connects all the heads

I create it around the heads and surround it with life

I reach to everyone’s mind and explore it with thoughts

I play with lights and hang up on like a bulb

I will never end up with a how and makes it a bow

I design all up the days and

Still moves around with my hat.

 

September 2018
S M T W T F S
« Aug    
 1
2345678
9101112131415
16171819202122
23242526272829
30  

Enter your email address to follow this blog and receive notifications of new posts by email.

Join 47 other followers

Blog Stats

  • 10,175 hits
Advertisements