Shady Friday #13

Hello bookworms!
Interesting story behind thirteen. Apparently, (and I heard this from my sister, so don't quote me) back in the days when one of the monk's job was to maintain the calendar, the monks would schedule monthly feasts around the twelve moons of the year. Unfortunately, there are thirteen moons, so it caused a lot of headaches. (These monks weren't mathematicians.) Therefore, thirteen was named as unlucky, while in the end it was just another challenge to be solved.  Anyway, I will be working more on the poems as it ends the month, however I do have quite a few already. Enjoy!
~
15 is the Age
Some girls say that sixteen's it.
The age of romance, rebellion, fun.
The age you run to, dream of, remember,
The perfect age, what else is there?

I'm here to say, fifteen is great!
The age of confusion, chaos, dreams.
Keep running around, you'll miss out on life;
Parents, sisters, brothers, forgotten.

Fifteen is the age of planning your future,
Saying, "I'll do this!' knowing it all.
It's your last real chance, to be just a kid!
It's the first time you get to be an adult.

Fifteen is when your worst mistakes start,
When mom's always mad, and dad's upset too.
It's when you notice the flaws in our world,
When life all seems hopeless, and everything's old.

Fifteen is a challenge, when nothing makes sence,
When life is a circus, dragging you with.
When everything's over, there's a whole new beggining,
And nothing will ever quite be the same.

So get up, get going! Get on with your life!
Don't forget the past, but don't forget the future!
Never lose sight of what God has done,
Keep moving, keep growing. There's a point to find.


The Tale of the Stars
A dusty road, a long lost dream.
Fantasies haven't begun to take flight,
Abandoned paths that never were traveled,
Thus begins the tale of the night.

Soaring high beyond  our eyes,
Dancing, laughing in their glow,
Gems in the night restless seek
The secrets of mortals here below.

Amidst their hoards of crimson, scarlet,
They dance to each other in rings of gold.
History written in their eyes,
They remember what none have told.

The secrets they hide are beyond compare,
Their glory is beyond us simple kind;
As tales are spun of their glorius might,
Their wonders leave us far behind.

These wonders astound as we forget ourselves,
Yet back to our planet we must now return;
The everyday struggles of everyday life,
Return to those who in anger do spurn.

Ah, that dear country, up hid in the sky;
Where sleep has no meaning, and dark reflects light.
Yet stuck I remain on this simple land,
As stars stay beyond reach, just barely in sight.


The forest's tearful gem (Riddle, please don't solve)
A rift runs between culture and art,
The past and the future, they are worlds apart.
Roaming the wilds, the calm serine woods,
I long to leave this culture, for good.

Past the plain, not past the bridge,
Which spans my heart and spans the ridge.
Left not right, and right not left,
Of rest my weary limbs bereft.

So seek the steps of wood and dirt,
The vast divide between heart and hurt.
And yet don't pass the amber stream,
Nor travel on the bridge of dreams.

Do not stop on the valley of moss,
Yet travel past the split hill tops.
Stopping on the woodland's hem
Lies the forest's tearful gem.

A family's death, ne're remembered;
The lines between remorse and insolence blurred.
A child, carven out of stone,
A child, weeping, died alone.


Cafe on the corner
There's a cafe on the corner,
Its windows trim and neat,
There's a cafe on the corner,
On iron lace I take my seat.

In that cafe on the corner,
The waiters know what you want best,
In that cafe on the corner,
not a sound disturbs  your rest.

In that cafe on the corner,
I drink my coffee, topped with foam,
In that cafe on the corner,
I don't know why, I can't go home.

In that cafe on the corner,
The fluttering rags of a curtain shows.
In that cafe on the corner,
The breath of wind never blows.

From in that cafe on that cafe on that corner,
They've never had a patron leave.
For in that cafe on the corner,
We're the ghosts of Christmas eve.


End of a dream (For Esther)
What do you do when all your dreams die?
When everyday pleasures become just a wish?
When everyday life is no longer worth living?
When the simplest goal is a ginormous feat?

What should you do when the world turns its back?
When all that you trusted betrays you in turn?
How should you cope when the pain fills your life?
When agony tears you our of sleep's peace?

What should you do? Depend on me!
Let me work through this struggle with you.
Turn to me and I'll do all in my power,
Know when you hurt, I'm torn up inside.

Yet, know through this struggle that darkens your days,
It will make you stronger, it will make you fight.
Never forget that I'm there to catch you,
You're not alone, so please, reach out!


Midnight Fantasies (Inspired by Lindsey Stirling's Beyond the Veil)
A step, a leap into the night
A fairy waiting to take flight
Moonlight streaming on the ground,
Where tales of mystery abound.

Pale revery complete,
A simple stone the perfect seat
Air as fresh as the dew of morn',
This perfect land where dreams are born.

Sky as blue as the ocean's depths,
Grass as soft as a maiden's steps.
Countless stars to light the way,
Who would ever choose the day?

Trees are anxious for dawn's light,
Yet I need not the sun for sight.
My eyes gaze up till I fall down,
Back the the gem without a crown.


Summer Fun! (Inspired by Imagine Dragon's On Top of the World)
 Summer's the time for fun and games,
To see old friends, make new ones too.
The time to dream impossible feats,
And plan the craziest parties and games.

Life is full of crazy adventures,
The laughs, the jumps, the tears, the falls.
When all you knew turns upside down,
Then keep your spirit, and keep on turning.

Summer's full of mistakes and errors,
Heart breaks and scrapes added in.
So pick yourself up, dust off;
and join the fight with twice the spirit.

Though tragedy strikes hardest when your having fun,
and the sand runs out when your least prepared;
a friend is there to pick you up again,
And help you live your life to the max.


Whispers in the past
 Come with me, my friend;
Let us tarry here no longer,
Let us flee these cursed walls,
For restless shapes seek my demise.

Can you hear them, plotting now?
Can you hear their shrieking cackles?
Can you see, the door is bared-
Can you see, they've locked us in.

The floor is falling, so are we!
Through the door of our demise.
Our past is clinging, dragging us down,
Down the hole, and down the pit.

Can you see? They're watching.
The eyes of those who came before,
are watching us become like them.
We are staring at our death.

But no, they are not done with us,
The door is opened, there is hope!
But hope for what, a living death?
Within the maze of snarled roots.

Yet run we must or soon we die,
These creatures shall not have their way.
I see a chance, a last way out!
The marble steps, and then the door!

Alas, on running up the steps,
to freedom, and to safety,
I trip upon a vine I cut,
And land upon my dagger's blade.

So warning heed I pray thee friend,
Though treasure great you find,
Do not enter this my house,
Or death will haunt you still.
~
Ok! Thank you so much for reading all of that! I don't think I will get all fifty poems done by the end of the month, but I'll do my best. Some of the poems were written for my book, and some were just to provide a striking comparison between the normal everyday life and the world of literature. Sorry for not posting for a while, I hope to get back in the routine! Habent sua fata libelli!

Shady Friday #12

Hello Bookworms!
Happy Fourth of July! So, today I only have one poem for you, and it's about America. I just wrote it today, and I haven't worked that hard on making the rhythms match, just rhyming the words. Anyway, have a great holiday!
~
Remember America
This country began in the long, long ago,
Thirteen colonies, how far they would grow.
But each to his own, and each to his season,
Now we amble around, without rhyme or reason.

America's strong, its roots now stand firm,
But a parasite's grown, and its spread like a germ.
Now the leech of self entitlement grows,
As the people forget their American heroes.

The people who gave their lives for our freedom,
Weren't fighting to protect some fairy tale kingdom.
They were fighting for us, we should show our respect!
Instead of stuffing our faces every chance that we get.

They stood for our liberty, our freedom, our rights,
For what we hold dear, they gave up their lives.
Now we celebrate with family and friends,
but forget what it stands for, as the festival ends.

So remember our founders, this fourth of July,
As the fireworks blaze up into the sky.
Remember the price that was paid by our men,
Remember it was worth it, what they did way back then.
~
I hope this inspires you, (And hopefully doesn't offend anyone!) I wanted to dedicate something to the men who have died for the country we celebrate today. Habent sua fata libelli!

Inspiring poems, the highwayman

Hello Bookworms!
Alright, so for some reason I have poems on the mind. I just can't stop thinking about them! So, I am doing a blog post on 'The Highwayman'. I'm pretty sure you all have read it, and if you haven't I'm sure that you have at least heard of it. But, I could be mistaken, (as I usually am) and maybe none of you have heard of it. If you haven't, it's by Alfred Noyes, (apparently), and it's an epic dramatic tragic romance. So of course, read it! Anyway, this is my summary of the poem and its writing style and techniques.
This poem is quite dramatic, (As I have previously mentioned) and uses a lot of meta fores. The words in the opening paragraph imply a storm, which rages on as this highwayman approaches. I like this symbolism, because it's very accurate to his style of life. Constantly on the run, his life brings the army behind him and ends up destroying those he comes to care about. (A lot like the doctor, but that's a different post). The second paragraph gives us a look at his attitude. I personally see his whole manner as cocky and confident, as swash-buckling rogues are always made out to be in stories. (I make them seem like that too, it's just a writing habit). Like every epic poem, this poem is filled with exotic words and phrases. It has a jealous love which every romance seems to have, the enforcers of the law which are portrayed as the enemy of love and all teenagers, (Which I am guessing they are) and the dreaming girl ready to die for her lover. I personally loved the ending, even if it isn't altogether accurate. A part of me loves the idea that they might still be there in years to come, anxiously waiting for one another.
So, that's me rambling on about poetry again. (I know, I need to learn more about analyzing poetry!) Anyway, please let me know what you think some of the lines mean, and if there is something you want me to talk about. Habent sua fata libelli!