EyeRaven• Show poetry

Truth be told, I have no idea what good poetry means anymore, I just write , because the more I aimed at creativity the more basic I became.

Hope lies untamed in the remaining outbursts of real stimuli, be it of any genre, in any style, and by any mood.

I am a medical student on the road to becoming an established doctor, along that road one wouldn't mind to become much of an established poet/artist as well.
Eventually a considerable amount of effort must be put to the balance, which can be direly strict at times.

Hope you enjoy my work.



*(The enemy of life)*


" The enemy of life, decayer of all kind,
that with his cold withers away the green,
this other night me in my bed did find,
and offered me to rid my fever clean,
and I did grant, so did despair me blind,
he drew his bow with arrow sharp and keen,
and struck the place where love had hit before
and drove the first dart deeper more and more."



Sir Thomas Wyatt.



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Alone


From childhood's hour I have not been
As others were; I have not seen
As others saw; I could not bring
My passions from a common spring.
From the same source I have not taken
My sorrow; I could not awaken
My heart to joy at the same tone;
And all I loved, I loved alone.
Then- in my childhood, in the dawn
Of a most stormy life- was drawn
From every depth of good and ill
The mystery which binds me still:
From the torrent, or the fountain,
From the red cliff of the mountain,
From the sun that round me rolled
In its autumn tint of gold,
From the lightning in the sky
As it passed me flying by,
From the thunder and the storm,
And the cloud that took the form
(When the rest of Heaven was blue)
Of a demon in my view.


Edgar Allan Poe.




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Favorite quotes:


-"A poet with no mood, is like a pen with no ink."-
-"we are humans, our powers limited, and not only are we fragile and delicate, but we sometimes play the devil."-
-"An advice is an advice, even though you don't take it..."-
-"A person who doesn't appreciate life, doesn't deserve life.........."-
-"Know something about everything, But don't learn everything upon one thing."-
-"A successful politician, speaks last to an uneducated crowd."-
-"Those who wear swords, have unsheathed their lives."-
-"Every man, is his own culture."-
-"Love, is the mother of all sacrifices."-
-"I screamed at my friend " WE NEED A REVOLUTION ", but he calmly said " No, we need to evolve into stone-hearted individuals, with stiffer back-bones."-
-"Never allow someone to be your priority while allowing yourself to be their option."-
-"Fake it till you make it !!"-
-"A truth that's told with bad intent, beats all the lies you can invent -- William Blake (Tales of innocence)."-
-"Is that we always deem or seem
is but a dream within a dream ?"-
-- Edgar Allan Poe (A dream within a dream)
-"You learn to like someone when you find out what makes them laugh, but you can never truly love someone until you find out what makes them cry."-
-"Being happy doesn't mean that everything is perfect. It means that you've decided to look beyond the imperfections."-

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-"A Death blow is a Life blow to Some
Who till they died, did not alive become —
Who had they lived, had died but when
They died, Vitality begun."-
-- Emily Dickinson
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-"When the pigs are flying
And it's freezing cold in hell
Maybe we'll forgive the children, baby
Only time can tell....yeah, yeah
If I listen closely
I can hear a dying dream
I'm on vacation in the land of shame."-
-- Vast (Land of shame)
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-"So When Weakness Turns My Ego Up
I Know You'll Count On The Me From Yesterday
If I Turn Into Another
Dig Me Up From Under What Is Covering
The Better Part Of Me."-
-- Incubus (Dig)
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" Like those sick folks "

Like those sick folks in whom strange humors flow
Can taste no sweets, the sour only please,
So to my mind, while passions daily grow,
Whose fiery chains upon his freedom seize,
Joy strangers seem, I cannot bide their show,
Nor brook aught else but well-acquainted woe,
Bitter grief tastes me best, pain is my ease,
Sick to the death, still loving my disease.


Sir Philip Sidney

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Here are some of my favorite Poets:

1.Edgar Allan Poe (Number 1, the main source of muse, and the idol stereotype for me, and my list of mood)

2.Robert Frost (That man's a genius)

3.Sir Philip Sidney

4.Sir Thomas Wyatt

5.Shakespeare (who else !!)

6.Ben Jonson

7.Thomas Gray

8.Anonymous (printed 1611-1651) - (wish I knew his name)

9.William Blake

10.William Wordsworth

11.Sir Walter Scott

12.W.B Yeats (Of course)

13.John Milton

14.Emily Dickinson

15.D.H Lawrence


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(Fire and Ice)

Some say the world will end in fire,
Some say in ice,
From what I've tasted of desire
I hold with those who favor fire,
But if it had to perish twice,
I think I know enough of hate,
To know that for destruction ice,
Is also great ..
And would suffice.

Robert Frost

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I admit that I have met so many a tender heart, and a mature voice, who carried me nearer to the better poet I want myself to behere on AP, and to those few souls I send gratitude and love.

These marvelous and charming people are:

*Frodofan (Humble friend and similar mood of pen, and muse).
Here's one Poem I shall always be proud of from her to me !!
http://allpoetry.com/poem/show/2763858
Hereby I thank you Frodofan, for such a wonderful tribute.

*Wandika
*Mary K
*Lady Ireland
*John Carney
*I-Like-Rhymes
*Night Hope
*Cherche -d -ame
*Rhondasail
*Ecrivain01
*Hugh Wyles
*Masterblaster
*Rose Angel
*Vampire of thought
*The silent mind

Who are all considered as inspirational sources and mentors, because they are great poets, and great supporters.

*Shayla Rain (Who may not appear much, but is an explosive talent considering her age, and the one who inspired me to display my poetry online).

Thank you (AP) for everything, and a special thanks for everyone on this list.

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Love is a secret feeding fire

Love is a secret feeding fire that gives all creatures being,
Life to the dead, speech to the dumb, and to the blind man seeing,
And yet in me he contradicts all these his sacred graces,
Seals up my lips, my eyes, my life, and from me ever flying,
Leads me in paths untracked, ungone, and many uncouth places,
Where in despair I beauty curse. Curse love and all fair faces.


Anonymous (printed 1611-1651)


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*Song*

(From the silent woman)


{Still to be neat, still to be dressed
As you were going to a feast;
Still to be powdered, still perfumed:
Lady, it is to be presumed,
Though art's hid cause are not found,
All is not sweet, all is not sound,
Give me a look, give me a face,
That makes simplicity a grace;
Robes loosely flowing, hair as free:
Such sweet neglect more taketh me,
Than all the adulteries of art;
They strike mine eyes, but not my heart.}



Ben Jonson.

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