poem I wrote - any good??

[boadicea88]

The conch shell calls
Me to arms
Telling me to stand
And fight like Arjuna.

Its call leaps over cliffs
Like a mountain goat,
Soars over the valleys
Like an eagle,

Calling me with a voice
Of rebellion, revolution!
Calling me with a voice
Of blood and gunsmoke!

It calls, trumpeting
Freedom through the pain.
Follow it over mountains,
Through valleys to victory!

The conch tells of a red star
On the horizon;
An era to come.
Follow the star, comrades!

We will stand, courageous,
Against a greater enemy,
Hear the call of war,
Comrades, and join me!

Together, we shall defeat
The demon capitalism
And restore peace and
Justice throughout the land!

Heed the call, Comrades!
Stand tall, and when you are shot down,
You will fall with a raised fist,
The picture of DEFIANCE!

[I Bow 4 Che]

Good work comrade! I loved it! Great motivation and some amazing analogies...

Keep Writing

[boadicea88]

Thank you :)


(Edited by boadicea88 at 11:22 pm on Sep. 10, 2002)

[anti machine]

I agree-good motivation, nice imagery. Inspiring.

[suffianr]

Strong words, boadicea88. Positive, uplifting stuff. Good work, keep it up!

p.s./ is this one for the newsletter, by any chance? :)

[Sammi]

Wow. Very nice and inspiring, especially the last verse.
:)

[boadicea88]

Thank you all :) :) :)
Suffianr, what do you mean? Newsletter???

I am encouraged, so here's another one. Enjoy:

Welcome to the beautiful land
Where gently swaying fields of golden wheat
Spring from rich earth- earth seeped in blood and tears.

Welcome to the beautiful land
Where rivers of blood flow from mountains
Created of piles of corpses.

Welcome to the beautiful land
Where scores of fish swim belly-up
Down poisoned streams into filth-filled lakes
And toxic seas.

Welcome to the beautiful land
Where the sun shines like a black knife
Through the smog
Where acid falls like rain
And shadows sleep for eternity.

Welcome to the beautiful land
Where corporations with dirty hands
Tenderly sow their seeds of gold coin,
And water them with working class tears.

Welcome to the beautiful land
Where a black buzzard soars
Over a vast desert of white bones.
He is the last of his kind.

Welcome to the beautiful land
Where peaceful people war
Where loving people hate
Where free people live in chains,
Slaving to produce the sweat and tears
That feed the greedy bankers
And bring nothing to the source.

Welcome to the beautiful land
Where the waves of dead, sterile oceans
Crash upon undisturbed white beaches
Beaches made from trillions of tiny shards of bone.

Welcome to the beautiful land
The buzzard, starving and exausted,
Searches for a tree in which to rest.
All he finds is a pile of ashes
That are soon swept away on the stale breeze.

Welcome to the beautiful land
All is still.
The buzzard is now a dry skeleton
And there is no breeze.

Welcome to the beautiful land we call America.
----------------------------------------

I think it's too long, and too depressing. Here's yet another one, that thankfully is happier (and shorter ;)):

The voice of freedom
Rings through the trees
Like an iron sword
On the anvil of revolution.

Freedom comes on the wings
Of the quetzal [see my sig]
In the defiant voice
Of machine gun fire.

Freedom rides swiftly
On the back of the Flaming One*
Laughs from the back
Of the Grassdancer*

Comrades, we, too, ride the Flaming One,
The Silent One* follows in our hoofprints
If He should catch us,
Our voices will have been raised,

In a cry that can never be stifled!
Come to arms, Comrades!
Be brave, for the brave live forever
In the hearts and minds of the liberated.

-----------------------------------------------

*The Grassdancer, the Flaming One, and the Silent One are all gods and goddesses that I invented for the hell of it. The Silent One is Molordor, the god of death. The Flaming One is his mate Saravata, the goddess of fire and destruction. The Grassdancer is the Goddess of the wind. They are all horses, coz horses are my artistic specialty. I'll explain more in a different thread .

(Edited by boadicea88 at 3:57 pm on Sep. 2, 2002)


(Edited by boadicea88 at 3:58 pm on Sep. 2, 2002)

[anti machine]

THe buzzard poem is one of the best i have read so far! Wow, and only 14? I have all my poems stashed away somewhere, i will be posting them soon.

[boadicea88]

*Blushes* Thank you :). I'm flattered.



(Edited by boadicea88 at 7:53 pm on Sep. 6, 2002)

[boadicea88]

OK, here's two more poems. I've been busy the last few weeks...


My cry
Blending with the wind
Spirals of red, blue, yellow

I run, wings and legs
Blending with the wind
Gashes of black

My leap over a stream
Blending with the wind
Arc of silvered mane and white fangs

Flying between trees
Blending with the wind
Feathers of grey and black

Blood on my talons,
Staining my muzzle,
It is not foreign.

_____________________________________________


Cut
Pearls of blood
Drop from the lips
Of oyster-shell skin.

Flowers blossom
From the carpet
At my feet,
Tied with a thin, shiny ribbon of red

Sharp steel fang
A silver sunset
Smeared with blood,

I am a seagull
Flying into the sunset,
Becoming the sunset.
_____________________________________________


Depression can be inspiring...

(Edited by boadicea88 at 4:22 pm on Sep. 11, 2002)

[queen of diamonds]

Good stuff - nice descriptions & imagery, but the rhythm needs some work.

[boadicea88]

Yeahhh... thanx for the advice.

[boadicea88]

Sorry to dig this thread back up but I wrote another one:

__________________________________________________ ______
I stand on the bridge
I am poised to jump
My only desire is sweet release
And fear is my only bondage

I breathe deep and remember
Past pains of my troubled mind
I feel again the hot tears boiling up
See once more the red pearls of blood
Spilling over the edges of the cuts

Thinking back, I remember
The anger and the sadness
The loneliness and desperation
The burning pain in my heart
And everywhere the fear

Finally, it seems hours have passed
Like an Osprey, I take flight
Swooping down as though catching a fish
Briefly, I become the fish
Gasping for air, struggling, and again the terror grips me
But then, peace, and I am the Osprey again

Soaring away
My own blood on my talons
The cold river drowns the flames*
That burned so hot in my veins
Turning me back to ashes
__________________________________________________ ____

*I might change "flames" to "fire"

[Mazdak]

Excellent job. You never cease to astound me.

[Panamarisen]

Great job, Boadicea!

I liked mostly the second poem, specially its 6th strophe.

HASTA LA VICTORIA SIEMPRE!

[Pete]

Man, I'm glad you dug this up! Good job Boadicea. It kinda makes me want to post my *****y poetry for the movement on here. But its not as image filled as yours! I copied your 'Welcome to a Beautiful Land' poem to let my friends read. I hope you don't mind. Its all acredited to you so don't worry about that. They are swayin on the edge of joining the movement. Maybe that will push them over. Well, comrade, great work! Believe

[chamo]

you're a very good writer. i cna't write poems very well. i liked the second poem, "the beautiful land" the best.

-keep up the brill work!

[Pete]

very good writer...now gone...damn national bolshevikism:S