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 Satyr's Poetics

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Satyr
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PostSubject: Satyr's Poetics   Wed Feb 18, 2009 5:58 am

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Satyr
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PostSubject: How does one say Goodbye?   Wed Feb 18, 2009 5:59 am

How does one say goodbye…

When the sun settles, like a weight, on the horizon
And the mind stirs the past
Caressing the senses with memories that were
And will be no more

When reluctant partings take their toll
And the body longs for slumber
The mind straining, again, to save the moment
And make it last, forever more.

…how does one say goodbye…

When words flutter, like wings, in the emptiness
And the spirit fails to take flight
Between the comforting distances of time
And the chasms of translation

When they are but are no more
And their image lingers, still
Forcing thoughts, back, to where regret began
And the tongue was stayed, silent.

…how does one say goodbye…

When gestures remain, like hope, in the heart
And every tender touch
Sends tears to cleans their fetid absence
And abate the sorrow


When faith finds an end in the world
And all that is left, out there,
Is sound shaped into final partings.
Asking once more:

…How does one say goodbye?


2005-05-30


Last edited by Satyr on Wed Feb 18, 2009 6:13 am; edited 3 times in total
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Satyr
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PostSubject: My Passing   Wed Feb 18, 2009 6:00 am

Striding by an ancient sea
I imitate the surf at play
And leave with every careless step
An image of my passing way.

Every here and every there
I stop and kneel over the sand
And build high walls to fight the tide
With sweaty brow and steady hands.

When twilight comes before the night
I turn to gaze on where I’ve been
On all the things I touched and built
And all the things I thought I’d seen.

There before my straining eyes
In the final nightfall’s sweet delight
The evening tide and churning waves
Erase all traces of my passing way.

CA 2003-12-11


Last edited by Satyr on Wed Feb 18, 2009 6:07 am; edited 1 time in total
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Satyr
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PostSubject: My History   Wed Feb 18, 2009 6:01 am

Did you see me there,
Walking amongst the remnants of my past?
New occupants desecrate the places I called mine, now
And with their incessant talk
They drown-out the echoes of an old song.

Did you hear me there,
Reminiscing about the heroes that were lost?
New younger upstarts wear their clothes, now
And with their acts
They mock deeds they do not comprehend.

To become a guest in ones own home
Is the fate of all men that hold on to
Their history.
2004-09-15


Last edited by Satyr on Wed Feb 18, 2009 6:07 am; edited 1 time in total
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Satyr
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PostSubject: Olympus   Wed Feb 18, 2009 6:02 am

I am not a child of a “lesser god”; I am not a condemned infidel destined to pay for his unbelieving insolence by grovelling at the feet of faith; I am a symbol of my creators need, a humble soldier in a holy army, a hopeful incarnation of sacred secret dreams.
Here I stand weak but unyielding, imperfect but proud, scared but brave.
It is my ideal that makes me so; it is my hopes and dreams that make me more.
My gods have earned their peak; they’ve proven themselves in battles against Titans and they do not just hold dominion over the creations in their own imaginings.

I am not a child of a “lesser god”; my gods do not promise me summits, if I were to just lie down and die in the mud. I must earn my heights, I must pay for my ascension with blood, sweat and tears, and I must prove myself as a worthy receiver for their kindness.
Until then it is their scorn that I feel. They fling lightning against me and laugh as I scramble to escape. Their cruelty washes over me like a flame that burns away excess fat and unwanted prejudices; I am burned hard by their indifference as I climb towards them.

These Olympian slopes speak of my recompense; they bear witness to my struggle.
These rocks are soiled with my flesh; one can chart my course using the blood trail I leave behind me.
I am tempted to sit and surrender to my body’s need; every molecule within me screams for comfort, for rest, for an end to this climb but I will not allow myself to give in to fear and discomfort as most others have. I will not sit and excuse myself using childish illusions and adult delusions; I will be man.
The summit calls to me.

Those beneath me, dance unknowingly at the foothills; they cast insults and mock me in my insolence, to have even considered such an ambition, they build armour with their insecurities and weapons with their sense of inferiority and seek to entice me back down to their meaningless merriment, in order to justify their own inability to even attempt such a climb.
They do not comprehend my descriptions of the views from up here. How could they?
For them the world is flat and the horizons distant and hazy; mountains obstacles to be levelled into dust and used to build temples to their submission.
But I see panoramas that lift my soul. I breathe winds that cleanse my lungs. I feel sunlight upon my face and the rapture of being in my chest.

Limits are not flames to be avoided. Limits are destinations to be reached for.
I will not exist in the middle of my ability and search for the easy route that does not challenge my strengths.
It is in search of whom I am that I climb towards and this can only be judged by reaching my limits and wanting to go beyond them, above them; to stretch them into new positions, to redefine myself and give nobility to the human spirit.

I am not a child of a ‘lesser god’; I am a human being.


CA 2003
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Satyr
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PostSubject: Paper   Wed Feb 18, 2009 6:02 am

Paper boats I’ve built and sent
Down the river, that always went
Streaming through the ways that bent
And never came again.
-
Paper notes that thought they would
Break the flow, if they should
Risk the tasks that somehow could
Ever become again.
-
Paper cuts on tender fingers
Writing words, hoping to reach her
Pains that ebb and forever linger
Wanting once again.

CA
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Satyr
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PostSubject: Snowfall   Wed Feb 18, 2009 6:04 am

Don’t cry,
The dying sunlight will soon
Take its share and the rest will be lost
Long summer nights,
I’ve thought about the remainder
Then winter came without a clue
And I sat staring at the quiet snowfall
Without a care
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Satyr
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PostSubject: Weeping Willow   Wed Feb 18, 2009 6:04 am

Weeping willow share your sorrow
Add your shadow to my night
So when I wake upon the morrow
I do not dread the noonday light

Weeping willow share your mourning
Cleans me with your leafy tears
Wash away my tired sorrows
Wipe away my many fears


CA [2002]
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Satyr
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PostSubject: Worthless Stuff   Wed Feb 18, 2009 6:05 am

That which I think,
I am
That which I believe,
I see
Beneath shaded wood I walk
Believing I am free

Sounds of hope within my head
My words are not enough
I’ve pained and gasped and bled
And collected worthless stuff
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MagnetMan
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PostSubject: Re: Satyr's Poetics   Wed Feb 18, 2009 7:14 pm

Nice stuff satyr
pity you are such an asshole
but I must applaud
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