Kevin's Watch

Well,I dug out many old things i wrote from long ago,things sometimes that are left dead and buried.Some are bright and spritely,othes(a Majority)are not.My own life is fraught witth many tragedies and many depairs that indeed could have been desecrations,but,yet I still stand.There was an old saying I heard long ago,I don't know who originally said it,but it says thus:"That which does not kill you,makes you stronger."This saying is true,but the repercussions sometimes are very high.Rather than doing somethings very stupid,I bottled up instead,wrote things down.In many ways paper became the perfect psycologist to me,this in time you shall see. Don't be afraid to jump in with comments,suggestions,for the true writer needs these to hone their true craft.............................spacemonkey





I've lost so many
Along the way
Still,I hear
Love's calling this winter's day

My heart frozen
The soul frigid
Locked into stasis
Once again from Love's despair

She was mine
For a time,and a time again
Her love soul rending,heart fulfilling
Beauty was her gift,amazement was mine

She's gone,ripped away
Torn from me on Love's first day
Her light once bright
Now fades to black

So,Death has come
My immortal enemy
Taken my Love
To where I can't follow

Coward! Liar!
We promised forever
Forever was too soon
Down Death's path I cannot walk

She pleads to follow
Begging not to be left alone
Yet,I stand here
An empty husk,hollow

Of a happier route,I am afraid
Lost,empty, from Love's first day
She reminds from time and again
Of her waiting,of a debt I must pay

January17,1987

again, try freeing this up, cutting some here and re-arranging there.

just my opinion...

I like the imagery, and this poem hasa lot going for it. I think with a bit of polishing it will be wonderful. I agree with Sarge about the word placement within some lines . . . and look at pruning any unnecessary words. Removing unnecessary words and tightening images condenses the meaning,a nd makes the entire poem more potent.

Keep writing, Shaun!

Another Random Particle:

Naught

If it's my tale then
Gather round you fools,and you downtrodden

Gather round,hear a tale
of a lost soul
A soul who gave up all
Seemingly recieved nothing in return
Except the ashes of his dead
And hollow laughter of the damned

Yes,
come and listen to him,
He who sold his soul
For Naught
and gained twice Naught in return
Naught was his supper
Naught was his bed
Naught was his share in the Grand play
of everything that in all have played their parts

His laughter hollow
His spirit broken
Yet he fights on
Look,brethren and sisters in folly
He fights Naught
The fight is all he has to him

As Naught is his
entire
Nothing more than Naught
for the fool
He rages against all
Proving to be worthy of more
than Naught

Come and laugh
Jeer at him who
Rages
at everything and nothing all at once

His story has no beginning
And no end
No middle
No plot
A story of nothing
a silent raging vigil
For nothing

A story for No one and
everyone
Modern day Judas
Who betrays nothing
But Himself
faith in all
But Himself
Unbelief that screams for
Benediction

Some kind of glory
Is His
Unbelief only
none other
See the Fool
Gained something from
Naught

As Naught was
His
His portion doubly so
Naught he has fashioned
Into a weapon of power
No one else can wield
all shall covet in Time

See the power gained
He shall remain standing when.
all others fail
unique is he
In His power
Power from nothing more than
Naught
Only his for the claiming

Condemn him at your own
Folly
Eventually
He will return from
His raging
Control only infinite
for so long
His raging vigil
Shall burn
all where they stand
As apparitions that have
Pestered too long
Destruction will only be
A thought away

Taunt Him
at your own hazard
You have given
Naught
To Him
Naught
shall be your retribution


From His anger
And your folly



August 17,2006

I think I recognize the subject matter.

~Lyr

I thought you might....

I like Naught, is it part of a larger work?

Yes and no.This was something I wrote on another bad day here recently,I sit and type whatever comes to mind.Most of it's nothing more than what I like to call Random Particles.This writing has been pared down,cleaned up a great deal(REALLY foul language in the original)and freeformed from the original.The original is also what i call my pyscho-analyst,I write the Random Particles and re-read through them later maybe figure out what was bugging me so bad.Naught was about 2 pages long that went into great detail of a man's own personal Hell.As you see,the man stands the victor in the end.But at what price......?

random particles is a great title for your collection!
have you read TS Eliot?

Ah, yes. . . Elliot is a fine poet. You can find more about him here: www.bartleby.com/people/Eliot-Th.html

Actually,no. to be completely honest here if it's not something I'm interested in it bores me to tears.T.S. Eliot may or may not be in that subject matter I just don't really know.So, Ihave no grounds in which to make an honest,educated opinion on his writings...

You should give him a try. . . perhaps the Wasteland, Sarge? It's really not all that long. . . and you might learn something about the variation possible in free verse.

www.bartleby.com/201/1.html

ETA: a missing "e".

i would also reccomend the Wasteland. my Magnum Opus is inspired by the Wastelands. nowhere as good, but tangently inclined.

Will do the Wasteland it is......