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Poems by Smoldering Wick
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smoldering wick
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Post: #46
A Journey Not Taken

A Journey Not Taken

“I almost stood upon her prow, that plied the briny foam,
A voyage vast of ancient past, wherein all travelers roam,
And stroll I did upon her decks, to feel the swelling pride
Of ships I’d thought unsinkable, where angry waves abide,

“Though as I tell this story now,” Grandfather said to me,
“It is a tale of castaways and fading memories,
Of red horizons of the morn, and storms of rolling sea,
A tale I can now only tell of life’s great tragedies,

“For had I sailed that mighty ship, that now lies in the deep,
I would not be but as a dream, within a heart to keep,
Beneath a sea beyond a quay where memories fade away,
Where tides bring in but just a dream but claim its future day;

“And she who stands upon the pier, with hope to contemplate,
Has children she will never know, for stories to relate,
And will but see just altered time of visions chanced thereof,
A silhouette in distant mists—an unforgotten love;”

And so I thought as I stood long, upon that lonely pier,
Repeated were Grandfather’s words, of truth so crystal clear;
For those who live are unforeseen within a fateful game,
And never have an anchor sure of life, love, wealth and fame;

So as I stood I thought my life t’was on a thread so thin,
I pondered what the world would be, had I just never been,
For now I look upon the world, its vanity and pride,
And see its crowds like empty shrouds of hope they all deride,

While singing songs of war and peace—for whom they do not know,
For all they make they cannot take a single thing below,
And all the plunder and the wealth for which their wars are fought,
Will never bring a hairbreadth more of life they never wrought.

So now he lies upon his bed, his eyes are growing dim,
Grandfather ends the story with a legacy that’s grim,
For soon I’ll stand beside the tomb of generations past,
As I recount the blessed truth wherein my hope was cast.


"What cannot be understood is no object of belief.” Isaac Newton.
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"The urge to save humanity is almost always only a false face for the urge to rule it.” H. L. Mencken
11-30-2007 05:08 AM
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wolfie
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Post: #47
RE: Poems by Smoldering Wick

amazing poem Smoldering--:love: simply amazing :love:


''In the midst of winter I finally learned that in me there was an invincible summer.'' Albert Camus

''live simply, speak kindly, love unconditionally''
11-30-2007 09:33 AM
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smoldering wick
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Post: #48
RE: Poems by Smoldering Wick

Friends of Truth

Speak not what’s couth my friend in truth, for I will stand the pain,
And please set free your love for me, my heart will heal again,
For friends are few whose wounds are true, though they’ll not please my eyes,
For they are rare who truly care, and never compromise;
So please don’t tantalize my ear, and poison what you say,
And do not fear to risk a tear to find a sweeter way,
For none will learn the truth they spurn, when loyalty is torn
Between what’s won when good is done by such a brother born,
Who will not rest till he has blessed me not just with some line,
But raises me to discipline this vagrant heart of mine;
So don’t dismay that we’ll today, be driven far apart,
And do not fret that I’ll regret advice that broke my heart,
For when no words are left to send, when no more words are due,
You will forever be my friend, for what you spoke was true.


"What cannot be understood is no object of belief.” Isaac Newton.
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"The urge to save humanity is almost always only a false face for the urge to rule it.” H. L. Mencken
12-04-2007 01:58 AM
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smoldering wick
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Post: #49
RE: Poems by Smoldering Wick

The One I Love

How I adore the one I love,
Her kindness covers like a glove,
Reminding me of God above,
And not the demon lair,

For there's no other quite so fair,
Than she who is beyond compare,
And knows that I would never dare,
Flirt with my heart to her despair,
And cause our love's demise,

No longer will I let my eyes,
To wander off in some disguise,
And live my life with all its lies,
Of heartlessness and compromise,
As if to set it free,

For she believes implicitly,
That to her word she pledged to me,
I will not break integrity,
Her trust I cannot fail.


"What cannot be understood is no object of belief.” Isaac Newton.
----------------------------------------------------------------
"The urge to save humanity is almost always only a false face for the urge to rule it.” H. L. Mencken
12-08-2007 10:46 PM
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smoldering wick
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RE: Poems by Smoldering Wick

On a Seaside Afternoon

I love to walk the avenue, beside the sea and sand,
And catch the scent of th’plain menu, from a yellow hotdog stand.

Where it caught my eye as I walked on by,
T'was such an alluring sight;
Th’rotisserie, turning temptingly,
Said I wouldn’t last 'til night;
So I stopped awhile so’s not to rile,
The appetite I hadn’t planned,
For I’d walk a mile for that hotdog smile,
With my stomach in my hand;
And upon that bread lotsa mustard spread,
Was a relished afternoon,
T’eat my yummy hotdog sitting on a log,
Upon th’beach by the lagoon;
And though I savoured all, it was much too small,
And was all gone far too soon.


So now I stroll along the wall, the ocean by my side,
And to my right a lighthouse tall brings in the evening tide,
And backwood smoke curls by the trees, while aromas drift my way,
And from afar they start to tease, and my taste buds dance and play.

Now I’m right on track with that distant shack,
The fish’n’chips smell O so good,
And to satisfy a little more I’d buy,
My stomach told my eyes I could;
And jus’ta add some taste, the flavour not to waste,
I sprinkled lots of sauce on top,
There was barbecue, salt’n’vinegar too,
Pepper, ketchup did not stop.
So I paid the gal and I stayed awhile,
To catch the latest baseball score,
Then I walked down to the giant ocean blue,
And I sat there by the shore;
But when I took a bite there was a flash of light,
I could see what was in store;
The clouds began to brew and the wind it blew,
And the rain began to pour.


So now I leaned against this tree, which kept me very dry,
And watched those clouds blow out to sea, while I munched on one last fry;
And as I strolled along the sand, a sunset lit the sky,
With crimson gold a picture grand, so struck with awe was I.
I’ll not regret this hideaway, it ended all too soon,
And I will come again one day,
On a seaside afternoon.


sw


"What cannot be understood is no object of belief.” Isaac Newton.
----------------------------------------------------------------
"The urge to save humanity is almost always only a false face for the urge to rule it.” H. L. Mencken
12-19-2007 05:34 AM
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smoldering wick
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Post: #51
RE: Poems by Smoldering Wick

Misty Mare

It was along a mountain vast,
We hastened through a haze amassed
Of arctic winter air,
Through barren land a blizzard whined,
While whetted wind did cut us blind,
I rode the buckskin mare,
She was the swiftest of her breed,
By far there was no finer steed,
That any man could ride,
For in her wake the surging flight
Of heaving clods of snow so white
Could hardly break her stride;

O Misty Mare so tawny fair,
Your blackened mane of writhing hair,
Is tethered to the wind,
As heaving clouds through nostrils wide,
And sinews surge beneath your hide,
No hurdle can rescind,
Though supple is your bridled head,
While chasing shadows as they fled
To canyons far below,
That echo broken snow that flies
From thund’ring hooves and heaving thighs
Unleashed as rivers flow;

And only now you break your stride,
Descending to the deep divide
To places so obscure,
That barely can you walk that line,
From razor back to Camel’s Spine
Where hearts become unsure,
And though your gait does postulate,
My own heart to capitulate,
This moment insecure;

And now we slow but to a crawl,
While silence shrouds the deathly pall,
Of clouded mountain peaks,
Where only those sure-footed ride,
To cross the icy great divide,
Beyond all grand mystiques;
Though angered gusts of worlds do swirl,
And heavy do its mists uncurl,
All billowed clouds of white;
While earthly light is made to fade,
Where darkness grows and does pervade
Till bitter comes the night;

Where did you go, my Misty mare? Why am I numb, so unaware,
Of what it was we could not share, precluding tragedy?
And then I saw what she forebode, while ‘cross the setting moon she rode
Where silhouetted shadows flowed, a place I could not be.


[continued ...]


"What cannot be understood is no object of belief.” Isaac Newton.
----------------------------------------------------------------
"The urge to save humanity is almost always only a false face for the urge to rule it.” H. L. Mencken
12-19-2007 05:38 AM
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smoldering wick
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Post: #52
RE: Poems by Smoldering Wick

Farewell

There are no reasons that I go beyond the holy shroud
For there is just mortality therein this crimson cloud
And be I dead for living comes too difficult to bear
Please do not grieve I take my leave in heavens gate to where
My Father lives in sacred light not spared of righteous love
For great is coming discipline for all supposed above
And all who dare this evil air that sweeps the earth tonight
For all presumption is of men and darkness is their light

So Father please forgive my soul and with your Son refresh
And take away this bond I hate this pain to carnal flesh
For I am just a man of time, in sorrow, envy, fear,
Who begs for everlasting sleep beyond the rolling tear
Whose final prayer is made to you O God of righteousness
To mind this heart of littleness that yearns with tenderness
That I might by my dimming light help just one stoop as I
To find the glory that you give to those who seek your eye


"What cannot be understood is no object of belief.” Isaac Newton.
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"The urge to save humanity is almost always only a false face for the urge to rule it.” H. L. Mencken
01-21-2008 06:03 AM
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DaSheep
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Post: #53
RE: Poems by Smoldering Wick

Beautiful Sw!

My humble attempt:


In the in-between

Waiting for a sign, to prove my supposition
Wade through swamps and crawl past grime
To cure my disposition

Hope is up, on top of a peak
Piercing the bright blue sky
Throw me a rope or make me a dream
To lift myself up high

The Fine Shepard will always go back
For one he will always go back
Sit in tight and wait for the call
To put me back on track

Thinking in opposites on a one way stream
To keep my thoughts ahead
Cherish the joy that starts in pain
With the words that go unsaid

Henceforce i drift, to grasp that feeling in time
Cut the patch and heal the rift
With victories sublime

Call me blind please
And make me new
Pray for me
And i will pray for you.



Christian blessings,

Pete.


All nature is but art, unknown to thee;
All chance, direction, which thou canst not see;
All discord, harmony not understood;
All partial evil, universal good! - Alexander Pope.
01-21-2008 08:49 PM
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smoldering wick
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Post: #54
RE: Poems by Smoldering Wick © 2007

A Snare and a Racket

Religion is truly a snare and a racket,
Dividing us all into capsule and bracket,
It wields too much power,
And seeks to devour
The conscience of those who will back it;

In dissonance members work ever to please
A doctrine’s great nonsense with rules and decrees,
For all that God prizes,
Its teaching despises
The innocence ravaged by falsehood’s disease;

So carefully listen you trusters of men,
There’s no greater evil than he that would pen,
A teaching that revels
On doctrines of devils,
Exposed by the truth now and then.


sw


"What cannot be understood is no object of belief.” Isaac Newton.
----------------------------------------------------------------
"The urge to save humanity is almost always only a false face for the urge to rule it.” H. L. Mencken
03-20-2008 03:37 AM
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smoldering wick
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Post: #55
RE: Poems by Smoldering Wick © 2007

Reality

She is a ship on seas of storm,
A lighthouse on a rock forlorn,
A distant beacon in the night,
Her winds are never warm;

Unnoticed too, she travels through
Those days of conflicts very few,
When time accedes to history,
And fades in hearts untrue;

For she is only clarity,
Ignored by all who will not see,
Because she dims in consequence,
While waiting till too late to flee,
Are those caught in her snare;

So better is she to be found
Before is heard that dreaded sound,
Or silence comes before the storm,
For these are reasons she was born,
To see the final hour.


sw


"What cannot be understood is no object of belief.” Isaac Newton.
----------------------------------------------------------------
"The urge to save humanity is almost always only a false face for the urge to rule it.” H. L. Mencken
03-20-2008 03:43 AM
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smoldering wick
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Post: #56
RE: Poems by Smoldering Wick © 2007

Alone

Alone
Never without her
Not lonely,
In the midst of my heart;
A traveler in my mind;
I dream of her,
Where is she now ...
This mist in my heart
Beating and floating like a bird on the wing,
O how I dream ...
Again she appears,
I sleep,
She disappears.


"What cannot be understood is no object of belief.” Isaac Newton.
----------------------------------------------------------------
"The urge to save humanity is almost always only a false face for the urge to rule it.” H. L. Mencken
03-20-2008 03:48 AM
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smoldering wick
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Post: #57
RE: Poems by Smoldering Wick © 2007

Little Prisoners

It all began in innocence, born deep in vanity,
The seed to germinate the birth of death’s insanity;
A fatal error deep within a life of consequence,
Though none can tell the story right with any eloquence.

The winds of choice begin the game, a game where none will win,
Where cravings of an empty quest will camouflage its sin,
That yearns past time and unforeseen denied of searching souls,
The legacy of something sought, to quench the deathly tolls.

Therein lies all secure and sound loosed of morality,
No bell could ring a harsher sting than this reality,
To blacken brightness of the dawn of human hardship’s hope,
And drop the sails of harmony where contradictions grope

You need not look so very far, their shadows you can see,
They are but apparitions of a ghostly entity,
They search the prisons of the soul that locks without a key
But dread the day they get their wish too soon to be set free;


O where does lie the answer to the prayers of innocence,
Robbed of their choices by the one who feels no recompense
For pillaged purity of heart in shadows of the vale,
Where streams of youthful years should flow and blamelessness prevail.

In just one day it came to him, this sage of sacrilege,
Narcissistic was its jealous rage and falsehood was its pledge,
Which in him found a tenderness he thought not to protect,
And abrogated all the trust that owned his self-respect;

So listen all you bold and brave, so very much to blame,
Why do you steal such innocence, extinguishing its flame?
You send it down an ugly path and there leave it to die,
And you don’t even care hear its broken, plaintive cry;

For now in streams deep in the vale, he struggles to repeal
A wantonness deep in the heart and love he cannot feel,
And in his search for what is real, he’ll see the demon’s lair,
And even try to go back home, though all is empty there.

You need not look so very far, their shadows you can see;
They are but apparitions of a ghostly entity,
O dread that they who lost their way, will ever be set free;
Peculiar though, that it is so, not far from you and me.


For deep within all hearts there lie two children in despair,
Imprisoned for no other cause than secrets that they share;
While one craves just for purity, the other schemes his lust,
And they appear so similar there’s none that you can trust;

Though good should always conquer bad, it’s what the stories tell,
The story of these prisoners cannot turn out so well,
For though we know that innocence dwells in each little child,
Deceit in secret grows in hearts of children so defiled;

So bitter is this constant fight between two entities,
Like children of the gods they are for they are enemies;
While one craves love and tenderness, it can't be satisfied,
For hunger for salaciousness is ever clutched inside;

Though cease they do for holiness, just so life can resume,
Far down the stair they struggle there, like siblings of the womb;
For turmoil left to linger long is peace that is corrupt,
The surging tide it cannot hide when stormwinds do erupt.

So come along you mentors strong, corrupters of the heart ,
With legacies of fear and doubt, an evil you impart,
For many have become this way, you burn in their distress,
From what they crave you cannot save because they so transgress.

The sweet caress they cannot know, within their hollow soul,
Wherein lives lust no one can trust, an honesty men stole,
And therein lies the bitter feud, contending deep inside,
These children of the dungeon halls, imprisoned they abide

You need not look so very far, their shadows you can see,
They are but apparitions of a ghostly entity,
O dread that they who lost their way, will ever be set free,
Peculiar though, that it is so, not far from you and me.


And old he grew before he knew this battle deep within,
Raged once denied this rising tide of evil stratagem,
For desperate was this war they fought, it was perfidious,
And no one knew his inner self had turned so hideous;

And had he known the child he was, who ran in rooms within,
Who echoes calls in distant halls with voices not akin,
To that which haunts him all his days and so relentlessly,
Drives all the armies of his soul to dread catastrophe.

And now she looks and wonders why they share no wholesome love,
His soul tormented by a heart that gropes to God above,
For he is not the one she knew, and never was so cruel,
That he could shut all doors without a tiny vestibule;

For he had once been full of life, for him she loved and cared,
The scars he bore had seemed to heal but later poison flared,
Where deep within the wounds of time infection found a way,
To journey through both me and you who thought we’d never stray;

For in all dwell things that compel this potent recompense,
Though some deny that he should buy its cure at such expense,
He’ll only sit and stare all day, his spirit far removed,
Because the conflict in his heart won’t free him to be moved;

For he has judged himself to be of great duplicity,
The children of his heart are there, but not for all to see,
For children always chafe and yearn and seek to be set free,
But he had simply locked the door and threw away the key.

You need not look so carefully, their shadows you can see;
They are but apparitions of a ghostly entity,
O dread that they who lost their way, will ever be set free;
Peculiar though, that it is so, not far from you and me


"What cannot be understood is no object of belief.” Isaac Newton.
----------------------------------------------------------------
"The urge to save humanity is almost always only a false face for the urge to rule it.” H. L. Mencken
03-20-2008 03:57 AM
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smoldering wick
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RE: Poems by Smoldering Wick

O Butterfly

O fly, you searching butterfly, of silken worms so blessed
Of sticky nets and spider looms, and lairs in which they rest,
To steal the prey of daffodils and morning glory bright,
And all the bounty of the mists of meadows’ morning light;

Who are you bird for just a day that chases only breeze—
And winds of wombs of petalled plumes and blossoms of the trees?
Though I can see you flitting through the cedar boughs at dusk,
And stealing bounties of the bog and mists of rising musk;

“I am the butterfly of hearts that fall in love in spring,
And flit through fields of summer dance where all the bluebells ring,
And I delight from dawn till night till withered grows the fruit,
And disappear in autumn time when seeds fall to their root;

“So ask me not to stay too long for I’ll be gone one day,
For I’ll not come without the sun to ride the winter sleigh,
But I am dust and I am wing of just a dream tonight,
And I can never bring you love and all that you delight.”

sw

03-03-2009 06:36 AM
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smoldering wick
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Post: #59
RE: Poems by Smoldering Wick

Defrauded Love

So muted are all children’s cries
By cannon, gun and sword,
So much is human suffering,
That knows not its reward;
Oh God might you just once quell pain
Of just one little child
Who knows not why such viciousness
Defrauds your love reviled?
For there is no such greater crime
Than that which makes no sense,
Inflicted on the newly born,
And hearts of innocence,
Except the ones who justify
Their hate for human life
By philosophic words of them
Who understand not strife;
For we were given life it seems,
With beauty to extreme,
Yet sin and its enormity
Is just to us a dream
That comforts not the weeping child
Whose prayers ascend above,
While we still glibly speak of God,
And all His tender love.

sw

03-03-2009 06:37 AM
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smoldering wick
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RE: Poems by Smoldering Wick

Brother Mine

Where are you brother—brother mine?
I wept when you did stray,
You were begotten after me,
Before came men of clay,
When we shared visions, mirth and love,
With all our morning song,
Before we brought to life and loved,
That universal throng;

Rejoiced did we in heavens voice
From dawn to setting skies,
We sang those songs as angels sing
With glowing, mirthful eyes—
I shed a tear, my brother dear,
You were so pure and free,
Our Father even gave to you,
The earth and flowing sea;

Though formed you were from brightest clouds
Of galaxies afar,
Beyond the mists of nebulas,
Reborn of sun and star,
But then you let that hateful thing
Send through your heart a lie,
You let your love turn into hate,
And then you let it die;

And now I weep not just for you,
But all your hatefulness,
Upon the earth your die was caste,
With just ungratefulness,
For all the good our Father did,
For too, you were a Son,
But you could only hate me more,
For all that I had done;

For all such envy, greed and hate,
The human family pays,
Disguised they are with jealousy,
Ambition is its craze,
For all your hopes, aspired dreams,
There are none that are true,
For you are just an incubus
With days so very few;

While all the world groans helplessly
In pain and suffering,
While we who stayed and sent the light,
Endure its evil sting,
And I for one did come to you,
Reborn in human flesh,
You tempted me with winsome words,
My heart you did distress;

O how I yearned that you might see
My love for humankind,
But while on earth you tortured me,
For whips and nails did find
Their way upon me till the death
That wishful, sinful stain,
That I should never be reborn,
To ever bring you pain;

But come I will with multitudes,
And God’s redemption pure,
With all our Father’s promises,
In love and life secure,
And I will bind you just as I,
Was bound in nakedness,
And I shall send you to your place
So deep in earth’s abyss,
And I shall leave you there till comes
The day that you shall see,
The answer wasn’t mine to give,
But all who were set free.


sw

03-03-2009 06:38 AM
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