A Dawns Let
By Jason16, 1st Jan 2012 | Follow this author
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Posted in WikinutWritingPoetry
This poem may be unlike any you have seen before. It's about 100 lines and at times may confuse you. I suggest reading the poem at the very least four times before placing judgement on it. I hope you enjoy.
A Dawns Let
I crept towards the church
The culture it enslaves
A truth bleeding ideology
Freud would say different.
His self reflective drives, the sexual truth
He’d say.
My id is economic,
Or is it rational?
As Darwin would say
Truths are miss connections,
A primitivism of another being.
A fool is witty but not always so
his truth is cunning, evil I know
The male directs the soldiers
A captain loved by all
but through his bravery and hollowed eyes
a fair maiden makes the calls
Sa beaute’ pourrit chair
Aching joints and dreams
Leaves, buried beneath snow
Like elders past.
I falter on icy landscapes
Death bearing earth
A virgin, I seek most
Mmmmmmmmmmmm
Traaaaaaaaaahummmm
Mmmmmmmmmmmm
From the roaring Mississippi where natives play,
To the rocky cliffs in Sarague.
We find time renewed and now an image,
All time makes time, past, present, new.
Like a mask history is
Taken on and off at will
from stone age to present
a mask, we’ll always wear
Sa beaute’ pourrit chair
The hooded knight hovered
Over rosemary and ash
In one hand he held roses
In the other, an axe
The limping pomper is his name
A reaper, in glass.
Splash splash splash
Sizzle sizzle sizzle
Splash splash splash
Sa beaute’ pourrit chair
The caterpillar does all the work but
The butterfly gets all the publicity
They love to love the wealth
With one flat foot
Living dead girl
Boney and distorted
Hollowed eyes gleaming
The figure, my own
“You can not build a wall of dead bodies and not expect rats”
“Ah! The poets truth”
We seek a universal answer
The poet on the empty hills
The shepherd staring upon the open night sky
Expectation is the root to all heartache
“Who says such things! A fool”
Better a witty fool than a foolish wit
The tongue is laced in poison
perhaps the animals know best
All men are enemies
All animals are comrades
But what truth lies in such statements?
The fool married a women of pale skin and blue eyes
A salem witch they say
The devils dance and wicker man
A pomper travels this way
Our answers lie inside us
At least the part unseen
No key so easy, a lock there is not, but
pray to whom you must
Like David and Goliath, the stone unsets the sword
the worldly crops are burning, an image of faith untold
we seek the quiet traveler, or the man who starves at night
a whisper of redemption and prayers on winter nights
The elder has left us, to burn in filth and grime
a serpent speaks of grander fruits, most certainly a lie
Sa beaute’ pourrit chair
“What is youth but lustful ambition” spoke the fool
“Ambition?” questioned the elder “perhaps but bring new life they do as well”
The street lights never ending, a dull and lifeless breeze
A whore shouts from the alley as a homeless man pees
“New life!” responded the fool, “a whoring blonde who starves herself, the dead is more like it”
The towers fall and all demise, the dust filled air brings light to eyes
The bodies wait as viewers flee, the fire trucks come roaring
“Alas I see, the truth inside us but it’s blocked by greed”
The fool feels much smarter, a pomper is he
“You ask of me everything, but I offer nothing, until you, ask everything of yourself”.
Our food comes from death, like crops in the spring
I planted three corpses and a bag of beans
No bean stock in sight and my crops are all dead
Such foolish prophets, no life comes from death
Except the battered wife who’s wrists are set free
No bloodied ram or hanging cross can bring
What no man controls, the earth, the water, the graze
Sa beaute’ pourrit chair
Comments
2nd Jan 2012 (#)
For me Jason, I never come to a page of poetry and judge, as in, you are right or wrong to have said this or that. To me, writing is a art form and who are we to say your art work is good or bad because, it is your thoughts. The only time I will 'judge' a article is when it is suppose to be a factually based one. As far as poetry, I am just walking through the gallery of fine art work. Thank you for sharing.:)
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18th Mar 2012 (#)
I really enjoyed this poem, but i think your introduction (telling the reader to read it four times, that a hundred line poem is something we've never seen before, and that it will confuse us at times) is condescending and pretentious.
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6th Apr 2012 (#)
Brandon it was not my intention to sound rude or pretentious. In my experience long poems are judged for being just that, long. I wanted to make sure people gave it a chance, not be pretentious as you have stated of me. I'm glad you enjoyed it and thank you for commenting.
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