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Grown old,
before my time.
Mistakes I've made,
never seeming to climb.
Looked in the mirror,
a stranger stared back.
How did he get here?
My heart just turned black.
Time is the best teacher,
you won't prove it by me.
Mistakes just repeated
for constant misery.
Look at the result -
tired and alone.
No time for change,
just gnawed to the bone.
Nothing to lean on, just
the yoke from the plow.
A vision of derision,
is all that's left now.
From rats, full credits to (c) Lynxear 2014
I liked it enough to want to play with the scan, I hope you don't mind another version, it's nearly all the same. I also had dark ones from years gone by, and although I prefer to leave them in the box these days, it's always good to share. Thanks for posting it.
Travel Well
Can you help answer these questions from other members on NexusFi?
hahaha....as long as you don't publish it and earn money from it I have no problem.
You are just exercising a little "wordsmithing" something that I do regularly on my own work.
You changed the tense basically with a few line changes...I like the present tense for this one a lot more.
of the changes you made I like a couple and don't like a couple more
Like:
Look at the result -
tired and alone.
No time for change,
just gnawed to the bone.
your version flows smoother than mine, though I still would take out the "and" ....the line seems awkward when I read it with "and" in.
don't like:
(a) I don't like the title...I like mine better....sets the mood for the piece.
(b) your ending does not project a reaction as mine did...yours is acceptance....mine is fighting back, nothing to lose.
Nothing to lean on, just
the yoke from the plow.
A vision of derision,
is all that's left now.
compared to mine
Nothing is left
take yoke from the plow.
A smash at that vision,
is all I have now.
Poetry to me is like painting...you really don't know what the poet is talking about unless you can get in their head. The use of metaphor obscures the meaning from all but the poet.
I have had poems I have written commented on as to how I moved an individual but it was not in ways I thought about when writing the piece. It is like looking at an abstract painting and liking it for something you see.
Does that bother me...no, not at all...poets write for themselves...if someone else likes the writing for whatever other reason...that is a bonus.
why don't you make a contribution to the thread???
In time, but for now I'm snowed under with writing C# poems.
Interesting to read your other comments, and I agree with much that you wrote.
At the end of the day the beauty of the experience (life, music, art and poetry, etc) is that it is all subjective. For me, finally reaching acceptance was more important than the fight. Like with the bipolar, there are some things I know I can't win, so I just try not to lose too heavily and that has helped me greatly. Life is a lot like trading after all, tense changes or not.
I appreciate that and wish I had more capacity to accept. For me it depends on the strength of the issue. If it is within my realm of ability to right-a-wrong or to achieve an objective I will not give up until I have exhausted any and all approaches to the problem....as such some issues seem to fester for a while if I still have fire in my belly but am temporarily at a loss for a solution.
Relationships are like that for me. I have been divorced from a very bad marriage for 10 years now (though I gained an excellent son in the process). I am in that "approach/avoidance" stage in the few relationships I have had since then. It is a trust issue and I wish I could overcome it...I fight it but old wounds are hard to bind.
Here is a piece I wrote during my marriage....PLEASE don't wordsmith this one....I was married 16 years by the time this poem was written...I "fought" through it for another 7 years until my son made it through college and was settled into his career...did not want to mess him up in his teen years though he actually told me to divorce his mother back then.
A Stranger in my House
Alarm bell shatters silence,
sleep filled eyes are open.
Is it all a dream,
or is this reality?
Kettle screams for mercy.
Someone’s in the kitchen.
Making toast and coffee,
but only just for one.
No one says “Good Morning.”
Sit down at the table,
the rustle of a newspaper
and tinkle of a spoon.
Outside darkness lightens.
Biting cold lies waiting.
Each of us, trudges off,
to begin another day.
Had a chat with Peter.
Peter is a good friend.
A companion and confidant,
since we were early teens.
Emotions bubble forth,
whenever he’s excited.
Always firm and strong
in opinions that he holds.
Lately he’s been quiet,
under constant prodding.
Not at all aroused by,
the stranger in my house.
Back at home for dinner,
tired from a long day.
Ignoring one another,
we feast on loneliness.
Retire to the bedroom.
Slide ‘neath icy sheets.
Weary eyes close slowly.
Will this stranger ever go?
(c) Lynxear 1996
My suite of poems does contain whimsical and happy stuff too ... hahaha. It seems though I cannot right very much when days are ordinary. In fact I lost my muse for many years after my divorce but in the final years of my marriage I HAD to write very often...I had to have someone to talk to, if that makes any sense to you.
Yes, I was an industrial salesman/manager for about 15 years of my working life and this poem was a condensation of all of the boardroom meetings that I witnessed. The defense of honour comes when it is you that is the battler against the others at the table.
I found that one had to be pretty aggressive at times to get your point or proposal across...otherwise you could be cut to ribbons verbally by others who would suffer if you were successful at the meeting. Yes, the boardroom meeting an be a vicious, though often deceptively polite battle ground.
Well other than the title giving away the poem's intent, I have never been in a trading pit...So I cannot comment on how similar that poem would be to that arena.
yeah, I have a bad habit of glancing over text and then something catches my eye and I skim through it before reading the whole post/thread. I do enjoy the poetry
R.I.P. Joseph Bach (Itchymoku), 1987-2018.
Please visit this thread for more information.
It is nice to see comment on my poetry but I really don't have many Trading poems.
I thought it would be fun to try a multi-person poem. It is called an Add-a-line
It is called an Add-a-line and here are the "rules"
1. each person is only allowed to add up to 2 lines of lyrics to the previous submission
2. You cannot make 2 submissions in a row (someone has to add to your bit before you can add another)
3. The additions don't have to rhyme with previous lines but you should try to maintain the flow of the poem.
4. The content should be consistent with the poem title and not vary dramatically from the previous posts (though you can introduce subtle changes that may be picked up on by others
5. copy and paste the contributions to your post before adding your contribution (so it can be read in its entirety)
I will start the poem with the title and first 2 lines...The tile really comes from a comment @ratfink made to me earlier.
Life is a lot like Trading
Alarm bell rings, time to get up
Make toast and coffee, log on for the day.
