Tag Archives: poetry

Free Writing – Without Understanding

I won’t be doing this often.  Well, I say that, but here it is – I never thought I would do it to begin with.  I did some free writing tonight.  To me that is simply putting down thoughts with little organization and no changes except for spelling and such.

I will say that I wrote this in about 10-20 minutes.  I got a bit lost in it, so I am not certain exactly how long it took.  What I meant by never thinking I would do it is not the free writing.  It is that I am posting what I wrote and not understanding what it means.

I decided that I could use your help on that.

1)  Read the free writing below and tell me what you think it means.

2)  Tell me truthfully if you like it or not.  Try to tell me why or why not.

You are not merely my audience.  Each of you, in some way, is connected to me and helps to form my life.  I feel your presence and wish for your help.  You are all my friends.

___________________________________

Thoughts on the Matter

_

I sit alone and drink of my life.

The taste, often bitter, reminds me of my choices.

Often, the right leads away from the sweetness.

_

I choose, based on love, love of all, love of none.

My mind fills with the details of all I have to choose from,

The whys and whats which make up the crumpled paper

containing the truth of the matter.

_

I scream, knowing that my choice,

However, correct, however, decided, will leave me drawn and pale.

I will need and that need will be crushed by the necessity of other things.

_

Other always seems to preclude me.

Is this my choice or my destiny?

Am I to always see ahead enough to know I am finished before I begin?

_

You are always on the horizon.

A vision of beauty and awe which transcends actuality.

The marvel of you is what keeps me going,

heading ever onward to that sunset of ripe choosings.

_

Mortalness limits my vision and my understanding.

A hay mound of gentle firmness lends itself to my oracle.

I see the periphery of comprehension.

I gaze at the possibility of finality.

_

You, part of me, fixes inward, presses outward.

I know not when comes the moment of my ascension into certainty,

except for the reality that you will be a part of that mold and cast.

_

-Free Writing- March 31,2013 9:20PM

_____________________________________

Namaste,

Scott

The Dead of Night – A Poem

The Dead of Night
By
Scott L Vannatter
October 18, 2012

The line was drawn suffice it to say
The bitter truth was “War is Today!”
The sides were drawn as clear as a bell
It was earth on one side and the other was hell

Demons flew, skittered, and clawed
They all were malformed, broken, and flawed
Earth was ripe; the humans all fought
Amongst themselves, winning was naught

In this weakened state, they could be picked and killed
The bellies of the demons easily filled
Horrific and terrible their countenance stood
And showed it they did, not one used a hood

Soldiers knew they were fighting for more than their nation
If they lost this great battle, out went their salvation
Demons fought without bombs, no guns, or knives
They took and they took, not counting the lives

Grenades went off soundly the gunshots rang out
The blood mostly green from the demons did spout
Human blood red gushed forth like a fountain
And bodies were piled like mountain on mountain

Planes in the air met winged bats and vultures
Seems demons came forth from most all the cultures
Machine guns spit and huge bombs dropped forth
But more and more nightmares came from south and from north

Bits of the creatures splattered the walls
And more of their bodies littered the halls
But for every hideous beast that was slain
A human was slaughtered, more of the same

The battles dragged on for days upon weeks
We sacrificed much to kill all the freaks
Our numbers grew less, as they seemed to be more
When a dozen attacked, hundreds flowed from the floor

Our races outnumbered, we hadn’t a chance
The creatures they knew this and fought with a dance
Prayers were sent skyward and fervently given
But the pace of the battles increased and were driven

By malicious intent, they ripped out the eyes
And ate them at leisure, like we would some pies
They gnawed at our bones once torn from our frame
They didn’t mind dying; they saw in it a game

One mountain we took and called it “Old Glory”
It was written about in a good, solid story
But for the one that we took, several more that were lost
And the lives spent on “Old Glory”, were too high of a cost

Blood spewed from the mouths as they ate out our hearts
They sucked and they licked the cut-away parts
From the corners of mouths dripped gore like honey
The darkness was growing it was much less than sunny

Night overtook and daylight was taken
Our lives were for naught our souls seemed forsaken
The hell spawn and soulless screeched out in dark prose
They knew we were losing and their intensity rose

They pushed us all backwards through swamp and through stones
We found ourselves stepping on our dead’s very own bones
They would crack and then snap as our soldiers retreated
The oozing black monsters knew we were defeated

It was over we knew it; the demons were winning
Too many had died; our numbers were thinning
The earth, blackened, was dying; the demons near done
Now they would enslave all the living and start their wicked old fun

The ground began shaking; the noise was most fearful
Women and children became very tearful
Then our eyes had to look twice as they grew round as a cup
Because all our dying and dead had stood up!

It seems they didn’t think that fighting once was sufficient
They stood up as soldiers and much more efficient
They grabbed sticks and rocks and used cracked bottles and lumber
To strike at the beasts, to kill them in number

The dead fought with living to take on the evil, vile crowds
And it renewed all our soldiers who surged forward in clouds
They attacked with new vigor knowing they surely could win
Because if they died they would rise up again

The screaming and agony switched from our side
As with the undead helping it was turning the tide
The demonic horde fell flapping and ripping and dying
From a certain held victory they now were all crying

And pounding and shredding the dead and the living
Were striking the heart of the vile without giving
An inch of surrender, no mercy was shown
Back into hell was the horrendous horde thrown

Once it was finished, it had taken a year
The dead bones were restful; they dropped with no cheer
But the shouts from the living resounded for days
For when the war ended, the sun shone its rays

The dead were now done; they were needed no more
So we buried them all; and let our praises all soar
We thought about dying and how after even the fall
God used them to help us; He did hear our call

I wrote this and sent it to my publishers.  The editor was pleased with it, but chose, instead, to publish my story “Tiger, Demon Burning Bright”.  That made me very happy.  I hope you enjoyed this dark poem as much as I loved writing it.

Namaste,

Scott

My Try at Tanka

A Tanka is a special type of formatted poem.  It is similar to a Haiku, but longer and the lines can be just a bit different.  Lady Day does this type of poem.  She showed this link as to what it is all about:

http://www.tankaonline.com/Quick%20Start%20Guide.htm

If I understand it correctly, it is not so much about a season as it is about the way you experience something and the way you feel about it.  I tried my hand at three of them below.  I would truly like to know what you think.

_

Seeing my small son

Hearing his cry in my heart

Wonder about life

Life would change day after day

Can I handle this all time?

_

Feeling my first kiss

Tasting sweetness in my heart

Should be forever

Sweetness often leads to love

Want to always feel this way

_

Sleeping through the night

Feeling good in the morning

I miss this past thing

Waking fresh is ecstasy

The day goes fine and forward

_

Namaste,

Scott

School Poetry 2

Well, people…you don’t follow directions any better than I do.  I had 1 comment on the school poetry.  Now, it was a nice one, but I wanted feedback.  So, like I did in the classroom…you didn’t follow directions, so I will try once again.

I have put out here a series of poems, which I wrote during school with the students.  I wrote mine (below) as they wrote theirs.  I wish I had theirs, but I don’t, sorry.

Please!  Let me know what you think.  If it is okay, I will still be able to do 1 or 2 more posts.  I enjoy this, but I want to know what you think! Lol Thanks.

Namaste,

Scott

_____________________________.

School Poetry 2

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Stretching Out in a Field

_

Stretching out in a field of gold,

The summer sun not yet touching the grain,

I look heavenward, the peace a blanket

Of joy, the breeze a caress of calm.

The cotton puffs drift lazily from my

Vision, animal shapes napping as I would,

Were I not so tranquil.

The animal fog slinks toward the night

As I stand to face harsh reality with a smile.

_

SLV – 050907

_

Weeds in a Forest

_

Sentinels of the emerald kingdom

Standing guard against invasions of grasses.

Holding strong the fertile ground against

Surges of wetness, pounding the carpet

Of green and brown.

Wind bends, but does not break; storms

Make ballerinas, graceful and lithe.

The sun ages, bringing brown hues to the

Dying army.

Summer cools; winter passes; the cycle begins

Anew.

_

SLV – 050707

School Poetry 1

One of the exercises I had my students do in English class was to write poetry.  There were shouts of protest, but I persisted.  I told them that, they had to do it, and so did I.

So, we all sat there for 30-50 minutes and wrote and shared poetry.  I wish I had kept more of their poetry, but I just have to remember that it was special.  I thought that, perhaps, I would share some of what I wrote on the spot.  It’s not great stuff, but think that it was right then, whatever was on my mind, and done within the class period.  I hope you like it.  Here are two:  If you really like it, I can do some more.   I, of course, kept mine.

_

Cat in a Window – SLV 052107

Furry feline, stretched out full on the

Living room carpet.  The breeze beckons and

A quick push lets the world in.

The slumbering tabby jerks to alert,

Nose high, searching for clues.  Leaping to

All fours, the creeping beast, moves silently,

The grace of wind sweeping across the leaves

Of summer.  Airborne, fur and muscles stretch

Taut, reaching the pine ledge and settling

To watch the world separated by glass and

Screen.

_

Listening to You – SLV 051007

Listening to you gets better with each word.

Hours spent separated only by distance.

Your days become mine and mine yours.

Our thoughts flow, blood of minds mingling

Into a singularity of the soul.

The more I listen, the more I understand

That part of you which is seldom shared.

The words weave into a touch, which

Melts into a caress. The caress becomes

A kiss and that kiss settles into love.

Listening to love; listening to you; both are the

Same.

_

Namaste,

Scott

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