245Trioxin• Show poetry

"Pessimism is just the acknowledgment, and acceptance that there's no escaping Murphy and his gang of laws." - Me

"I'll say good evening, even though it does seem unwarranted." - Julian Sands

"HUGS!...NOT drugs..."

Proud Member of RED SOX NATION!!!!!! And a HELLS YEAH! to my KU JAYHAWKS!!!!!! NATIONAL CHAMPIONS BABY!!! '08 !!!!!!

Be sure to check out "The Bass Brothers" at www.basstv.com & give them your support at their Myspace. www.myspace.com/thebassbrothers

I am the Associate Producer & Script Supervisor for the above show.

My poetry/writing is my own style & deeply metaphorical. I intentionally break format because what is poetry when confined to rules? Less interesting in my opinion. Vague & Descriptive (2 words not commonly placed together is the best way to describe my work)

And Yes... I have a regular vowel movements.

"VERB" is a NOUN... (Let that one marinate for awhile).

FROM: THE AGE OF CHIVALRY:

"Sweet I sang in former days,
Kind love perfected my lays:
Now my art alone displays
The woe that on my being preys.

"Charming love, delicious power,
Worshipped from my earliest hour,
Thou who life on all dost shower,
Love! my life thou dost devour.

"In death's hour I beg of thee,
Isoude, dearest enemy,
Thou who erst couldst kinder be,
When I'm gone, forget not me.

"On my gravestone passers by
Oft will read, as low I lie,
'Never wight in love could vie
With Tristram, yet she let him die.'"

I found no love in the hollowed out belly of a dead elk, just warmth. - The Kids in the hall

Absence makes the heart grow despondent... and when I die, regardless of how it happens...the cause will be of heartbreak.

Generally, I'm a writer and Director with a degree in film noir, plus I used to go to school for movies, and I watch movies, not to mention; I can spell "Monocotyledons". I also enjoy sitting, nostalgia, the company of my friends, paranormal investigation, photography, storm chasing, being wrapped in velvet and drinking velvety fluids, touching my elbow, blue canteloupes, and being taller than I am.

Her likeness hung in the black gallery...commanding unease...demanding of death to breathe. - CoF -

I am NOT a fan of spoken word poetry!!!

I've been writing poetry for 17 years now, and published for 9. I'm very picky about what I read, so please don't be offended. I like to stay within' the genre in which I write, occasionally glancing at nature, or some other sub genre. Not that your writing isn't worth it, I just have personal reasons. (If I do happen to read something of yours that is outside of my character, congratulations & consider yourself extremely fortunate!) It won't happen often.

ALSO... (I'm certainly not the greatest author in the world, and I'm incredibly flattered when anyone enjoys a piece that I've written) but if you don't know how to spell (or are too lazy to spell check) DO NOT waste your time expecting me to read your work! If I am going to read something that looks like it was written by a 3rd grader, I'll actually go and read something by a 3rd grader.

AND IT'S NOT LIKE MANY PEOPLE READ THESE PROFILES, BUT I FEEL THAT IT'S NECESSARY TO CONTINUE ON WITH ANOTHER LITTLE RANT. I love comments, who doesn't? I hate comments such as: "I like this, You are good" etc... I delete those, and I won't read you in return. In fact I will respond by saying something along these lines:

Hmmm...

NON-MONOSYLLABIC COMMENTS WELCOMED

(Apparently, I need to explain what that means... to... so-called poets).

NON = NO

MONO = 1 OR ONE (not won, that's different)

SYLLABIC OR SYLLABLE = THE SLIGHTEST BIT OF WRITTEN OR SPOKEN EXPRESSION (That's the "not so smart" definition) In greater detail, a syllable is: A unit of spoken language consisting of a single uninterrupted sound formed by a vowel, diphthong, or syllabic consonant alone, or by any of these sounds preceded, followed, or surrounded by one or more consonants.

COMMENTS = A REMARK, A CRITICISM, AN EXPLANATION. (Use it in a sentence) "I'm leaving myself a comment to further explain the usage of the English written language as taught in Junior High Schools across the country."

(BY THE WAY..."COMMENT" IS A 2 SYLLABLE WORD (COM-MENT) and it's a noun, but that's another lesson.

WELCOMED = INVITING, TO RECEIVE OR ACCEPT WITH PLEASURE.

So kids, what have we learned today? Let's review, shall we?

NON-MONOSYLLABIC COMMENTS WELCOMED

=

I DON'T WANT YOUR LAME ASS, RUDIMENTARY, DIMWITTED, MENTALLY LETHARGIC & SIMPLEMINDED COMMENTS!!!

SAVVY?

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Beware of the forbidden stairs. The shy fruit of knowledge is understanding. The content of this material is almost unremittingly banal, consisting mostly of pious sentiments, couched in a woolly language. - Me

If you're a Tornado or a Hail Stone, perhaps we should talk, because I'd love to know how you acquired the power of speech. - Me

Feel free to write and speak to me of pages, of pages and places most secret. - Julian Sands

Cold was my soul
Untold was the pain
I faced when you left me
A rose in the rain.

So I swore to the razor
That never enchained
Would your dark nails of faith
Be pushed through my veins...again!

-Cradle of Filth-

You can visit me on Myspace if you so desire, but I don't go there often, only if I'm messaged, it's lost all its allure since becoming a household name.

Twisted Forever...Forever Twisted....

This is the end of my profile, I tried to keep it relatively succinct. At this point however I'd like to share with you all a poem that means a lot to me, and one that I hold above all others... I try to read this (daily).


THE LIGHT AT THE END OF THE WORLD

An isle, a bright shining isle
stands forever, alone in the sea
Of rock and of sand and grass and shale
The isle bereft of trees.

Small...a speck in the wide blue sea.
'Tis the last of all the land
A dweller upon our lonesome isle
The last, lonely man?

By the G-ds he is there
To never leave, to remain all his life.
His punishment for evermore
To attend the eternal light.

The lighthouse, tall and brilliant white
Which stands at the end of the world.
Protecting ships and sailors too
From rock they could be hurled

Yet nothing comes and nothing goes
Except the bright blue sea.
Which stretches near and far away
'tis all our man can see.

Though, one day, up high on rock
A bird did perch and cry.
An albatross, he shot a glance,
And wondered deeply, why?

Could it be a watcher sent?
A curse sent from the G-ds,
Who sits and cries and stares at him,
The life that they have robbed.

Each year it comes to watch over him
The creature from above.
Not a curse but a reminder of
The woman that he loved.

Oh weary night, under stars,
He'd lay and gaze.
Up towards the moon and stars.
The suns...dying haze.

Time and again, Orion's light
Filled our man with joy.
Within the belt, he'd see his love,
Remembering her voice

The twinkle from the stars above
Bled peace into his heart
As long as she looks down on him
He knows they'll never part

One day good, one day bad
The madness, the heat, the sun,
Out to sea, he spies upon land.
His beloved Albion.

Cliffs of white and trees of green
Children run and play,
'My home land' he cries and weeps,
Why so far away?

Eyes sore and red. Filled with tears,
He runs towards the sea.
To risk his life, a worthy cause,
For home he would be.

Into the sea, deep and blue,
the waters wash him clean.
Awake. He screams. Cold with sweat.
And Albion a dream.

Such is life upon the isle,
Of torment and of woe.
One day good. One day bad.
And some days, even hope.

The light at the end of the world
Burns bright for mile and mile
Yet tends the man, its golden glow,
In misery all the while?

For fifty years he stands and waits,
Atop the light, alone.
Looking down upon his isle
The G-ds have made his home

The watcher at the end of the world
Through misery does defile.
Remembers back to that single night
And allows a tiny smile.

(His sacrifice was not so great!
He insists upon the world.
Again he would crime,
Again he would pay,
For one moment with the girl)

Her hair, long and black it shone,
The dark beauty of her eyes,
Olive skin and warm embrace,
Her memory never dies.

'Twas years ago, he remembers clear
The life they once did live.
Endless love and lust for life,
They promised each would give.

Alas, such love and laughter too,
Was short as panting breath
For one dark night, her soul
Was kissed by the shade of death.

(Agony, like none before,
Was suffered by our man.)
Who tends the light now
Burning bright on the very last of land.

(Anger raged and misery too
Like nothing ever before.)
He cursed the G-ds and man, and life,
And at his heart he tore.

A deity felt sympathy
And threw our man a light
'Your woman you may see again,
For just a single night.

But think hard and well young man,
There is a price to pay:
To tend the light at the end of the world
Is where... you must stay.

Away from man and life and love.
Alone you will be.
On a tiny isle. A bright shining isle
In the middle of the sea.'

I'll tend the light, for one more night
with the woman whom I love!
Screamed the man, with tearful eyes,
To the deity up above.

And so it was that very night
His lover did return.
To his arms and to their bed,
Together they did turn.

In deepest love and lust, and passion
Entwined they did fall.
Lost within each other's arms
They danced (in lover's ball).

Long was the night filled with love.
For them the world was done.
Awoke he did to brightest light,
His woman and life had gone.

To his feet he leapt. To the sea he looked.
To the lighthouse on the stone.
The price is paid and from now on
He lives forever alone.

.

Fifty years have passed since then
And not a soul has he seen.
But his woman lives with him still
In every single dream.



By: - My Dying Bride -

P.S. Although they are a good band...The song is terrible! Check out "For My Fallen Angel" if you want to hear a good ballad of theirs...enjoy this one as a poem, and poem alone.