The Book Of Words

Poetry From The Apprentice

[Book Of Words]
In the quiet of the night he sits in his chair;
Gazing at the screen with a solemn stare.

While I have composed a fair bit of poetry over time, much of it bad poetry, I have only a little online here for now. Enjoy.

You will find the following types of poems here:

50 Word Poems

This section contains various poems done in a style I picked up from a paper in the states which used to run a competition. The structure of this poem requires the poet to create a self contained story in exactly 50 words. No more, no less. With that in mind, I hope you enjoy these.

(as a side note... I don't know why but all too often my 50-Word poems tend to the darker side of life. My guess is because happy stories can't be told in exactly 50 words.)

A Conversation Between Pessimism And Optimism

It was the end of days.

No it wasn’t! It was the start of a new day.

It was cold... the colour leeched out by falling snow.

The snow was crisp and crunched under the new boots mom bought for you.

Right before she died of radiation poisoning.

Oh yeah.

Optimism Gets The Last Laugh

It was always cold.

You wanted to be warm?

I was always hungry.

There were plenty of rats.

People were always getting sick.

Only of you.

I hated it.

I loved the world.

And now we’re dead.

…You complain too much.

So.

Good thing we put you inside that bomb.

The Colour Of Pessimism

What colour would you call that?

Rotting orange.

Somebody’s happy.

I prefer black.

I’m more of a red person myself.

What colour will it be tomorrow?

Blue.

Don’t be silly. Who ever heard of a blue sky?

Yeah. You’re right.

Of course.

Hey, maybe it will be red!

Go away.

Sadness

He would ask her tomorrow so that he would have no regrets later in life. He was so lost in this new feeling of confidence that he didn't see the truck trying to apply the brakes. The next day she barely paid attention as they announced his death at school.

The Outcast

He stood alone. He watched as they enjoyed themselves. They hadn't asked him to join them. He didn't really care. He liked to see them happy. Some of them came and talked to him. They left and returned to the others. He followed. They had asked him to join them!

Martyr

He loved peace. He loved mankind. He had never harmed another in his life. He saw it happen. He saw the girl fall to the cold Earth. The guilty party blamed him. The penalty was death. He could prove that the other man did it. He died for the crime.

Simple Rhyming Poems

This section contains various little poems I have written. The first two here even won awards (if you can believe it!) and one of the poems below was published. Of course, don't go looking for my name on it... being a poem writing guy was never cool while I was growing up so I wrote under a pseudonym. Namely, I.O. Pheattery. Those of you particularly skilled at anagrams will probably have already figured out it stands for I Hate Poetry. Blame it on a bad English curriculum in the public school system.

Sunlight On A Beach With Palm Trees

Dusk:

The wind is stiring,
The clouds are roaming,
The birds are mocking,
The Dark is rising.

Dawn:

The moon is dying,
The trees are stilling,
The streams are rustling,
The Light is riding.

On Humanity

'Twixt and 'tween death we wait,
Trying to escape our destined fate;
But time is a cruel master,
For a race that flirts with disaster.
Why do people seek to fight?
Who gave to them that right?
Living is a glorious endeavour,
Don't they know dying is forever?

LOVE

Love is something that is true;
On the land or sea of blue;
Valentine I give you my heart;
Even though I must depart.

Death's Road

From whence the silent prophesy,
Wait 'til it rears it's ugly head;
Where ancient trees stand as guardians,
And the land lies silent and dead.
"This is the land," a cold stone reads,
By the ghostly ribbon of road,
"Through which one day all men must pass
Before they can lay down their load."

A Song In Need Of A Tune

Oh how I longed for the part of me I'd forgotten,
And for the part that I never did truly own.
My mind wanders down pathways ne'er trodden,
Just searching for a place I could call home.

The people we meet and the places we go,
They all have a place in this little show.
The show is your life and the song is your dream,
The old yellow dog and the tooth fairy queen.
The roads you have taken and the things that you've done,
This song is made for the hope of everyone.

With "It's The End Of The World" In Mind (unfinished)

Christmas comes, the students run, opening presents, oh what fun!
Turkey dinner, Uncle Roy, outdoor lights, christmas joy.
Clinton's scandal, Mid-east peace, Jackson's plea, mourner's wreaths.
It's the end of this year as we know it, and I'm still high.

Child's Play

Lay down your guns,
Make no more war.
Think of God,
That's what peace is for.

Treasure In Your Backyard

All that glitters is not gold,
Or so us youngsters are often told.
But who needs gold when the river,
Sparkles like a band of silver.

Gunslinger

Look to the west in the light of the dying sun,
Struck down in cold blood by the Marshal's gun.
Think of me, but of my name speak not a breath,
Or you will visit me in the House of Death.

Camping Song

The song was sung in a ring;
Thumpty thump went that thing:
In the flash of the fire light;
The song was sung on camping night.

A Mare, I Can Spy!

The primeval forest, a virgin meadow, an untouched sea;
The crystal water, the flowing grass, and the perfect tree.
A sense of love, honour and compassion;
All of these things are in limited ration,
But that's not how it has to be.

Prophesy

When Starshine falls,
And the White Dove calls;
The Ice moves from the North,
Then shall the Six come forth.

Six colours, Six mages there be,
Old friends the first three;
Two shall be nine,
And one shall be mine.

(as a side note, 15 years after this was created, NASA launched project Starshine... a series of satellites, built with one purpose... to be put into decaying orbits and fall back into the Earth's atmosphere. As of yet, the White Dove has not called.)

One Cross Stands Alone (unfinished)

One cross stands alone on a hill,
The faint morning light doesn't keep off the chill.

Ballad Of Words And Wordflows

This section contains poems which were written using one of two structures. The first is known as a Ballad Of Words. It is a series of words which, by themselves evoke a rhythm or an emotion. No actual connection is necessary between the words, though I personally like to try and add one to convey additional meanings. The second is ver similar, however whereas a Ballad Of Words follows a simple rhyming scheme, the Wordflow is simply that... a continuous flow of words which is intended to move the reader from image to image and emotion to emotion without pause. Personally, I like to start Wordflows with one of Rock, Paper or Scissors and lead the reader on a flow of images where each ties to the next in some fashion and eventually comes full circle.

Ballad One

Governor, General, Court
Tennis, Player, Sport
Apple, Peaches, Plum
Cinnamon, Liquid, Rum
Dwarf, Elf, Fairy
Animal, Whisker, Hairy
Light, Sun, Day
Water, Ocean, Bay
Music, Fun, Friends
Words, Poetry, Ends.

Wordflow One

Rock, hammer, saw, rust, oil, leak, plug, hole, patch, drill, steel, torch, water, heat, ice, melt, ship, canon, submarine, torpedo, decoy, charge, land, earthquake, plane, rocket, space, station, air, planet, far, distance, green, creatures, fire, earth, rock.

Non-Rhyming Poems

This section contains various poems I have written which follow no rhyming scheme or common structure that I am aware of. Some are better than others. Most are somewhat depressing. Hmm... I think I'm noticing a trend when I write poetry. Guess I my muse for poetry is Depression, Godess of the Dark.

There

Look towards sunrise for that is where I'll be,
But just think of me and I will be there.

Ode To A Year
(Ode to a Place)

Living on the edge of a world without form.

These are the days,
These are the nights.

The cloudy maw reaches out to swallow me.

Living on the edge,
Living in the centre.

Hurt by the pain of knowing, exalted by the pride of joy.

This is the black,
This is the white.

Leaving along another road and staying forever.

This is a time,
This is a place.

This is a

This is

This.

The Cold Healer

Come to me. Share your troubles and leave free of shackles.
I am as a never-ending pit.
Without bounds, things fed in are not seen again.
Nothing comes out of the vortex of my mind, but that which I wish.
Cold, hard. A diamond.
Yet a diamond with a black layer of soot outside, and the whirling vortex of a black hole in the heart.
Spinning faster and faster and faster. Consuming all...

A Falling Soul Waits

Night falls. The moon does not rise.
Another star winks out. Another choice gone.
Another dream gone. Another link to a world which now seems unknown, gone.
The darkness surrounds, as though it is drawn to shroud a falling soul.
Overhead the lights disappear, faster now.
The Black streaks across the canvas of the sky, like some artist from Hell gone mad.
Alone, unclear the crooked boughs of a leafless tree. Black against Black.
Alone in the dark. Waiting... hoping, that the moon will rise.

Design and Layout, Copyright 2002, Kurtis R. McClellan
Last Updated: September 21st, 2002.