The Poetry Corner - Articles - Zimbio

Haunted Houses

Thu, 31 Oct 2008 00:04:00 GMT

posted by ADecker

HAUNTED HOUSES
All houses wherein men have lived and died

Are haunted houses. Through the open doors

The harmless phantoms on their errands glide,

With feet that make no sound upon the floors.

We meet them at the door-way, on the stair,

Along the passages they come and go,

Impalpable impressions on the air,

A sense of something moving to and fro.

There are more guests at table, than the hosts

Invited; the illuminated hall

Is thronged with quiet, inoffensive ghosts,

As silent as the pictures on the wall.

The stranger at my fireside cannot see

The forms I see, nor hear the sounds I hear;

He but perceives what is; while unto me

All that has been is visible and clear.

We have no title-deeds to house or lands;

Owners and occupants of earlier dates

From graves forgotten stretch their dusty hands,

And hold in mortmain still their old estates.

The spirit-world around this world of sense

Floats like an atmosphere, and everywhere

Wafts through these earthly mists and vapors dense

A vital breath of more ethereal air.

Our little lives are kept in equipoise

By opposite attractions and desires;

The struggle of the instinct that enjoys,

And the more noble instinct that aspires.

These perturbations, this perpetual jar

Of earthly wants and aspirations high,

Come from the influence of an unseen star,

An undiscovered planet in our sky.

And as the moon from some dark gate of cloud

Throws o'er the sea a floating bridge of light,

Across whose trembling planks our fancies crowd

Into the realm of mystery and night,--

So from the world of spirits there descends

A bridge of light, connecting it with this,

O'er whose unsteady floor, that sways and bends,

Wander our thoughts above the dark abyss.

~ Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

Top=an old sketch I dug out of the "mess" the other day.

Bottom=a painting I showed recently, but this is a better pic, imo. At least you can see the spatial planes in the trees. And I think it kinda fits the end of this poem, somewhat.

Call to a Wounded Child

Wed, 11 Sep 2008 22:02:37 GMT

posted by Jmae64

Walk with MeThrough darkened rooms we’ll climbPast covered,Dust-filled sculptures in the nightWith hand in MineWe’ll fight the shadows left behindTill all that’s hid withinIs brought to lightFear not that which is lurking in the darkNor tremble at the sights which you have seenFor if in Me you trust with all your heartThen all the times of sorrow I’ll redeem.

Blinks

Tue, 16 Jul 2008 21:09:00 GMT

posted by illyilly

Blinks
Why, in a split second, a murder is committed, a baby is born,
a hamster dies, a mailman retires, a drunk driver kills a woman,
an earthquake destroys an entire community, a child is kidnapped,
a person finds a job, another looses their job, one faints,
an individual gets an incurable disease, and then a person is healed?

Why, in the blink of an eye, a person dies from cancer,

a soul is saved, an angel rejoices, a teenager commits suicide,

a couple gets divorced, a couple marries, a dog gets run over by a car,

a puppy is born, a basement floods, a contract is broken,

a vow is made, a car breaks down, one becomes sick and throws-up?

All in the blink of an eye!

By Ileana Reich

Worlds Apart

Tue, 16 Jul 2008 18:24:00 GMT

posted by illyilly

Singing Frees Me Too!

Far Away Place

Sun, 14 Jul 2008 23:35:00 GMT

posted by illyilly

Far Away PlaceOh emotions. I hate you so.

You make me feel what I don't want to feel.I push you down; I push you away.Yet you still come and ask me to play.

I think your a curse,You wrestle with my heart, and I may explode!I catch you, I push you down, and I close the clasp on my tattered purse,It' s the only way I won't burst.

Leave this tired girl alone.You make me see what I don't care to see!You will come, you will come, and take me away.I'll let go, and then maybe I'll go far away.Where the eyes that stare go andPerhaps there, you'll be my friend.Who knows, maybe there is something betterIn that far away place you keep dragging me to.

Oh, how I want to go there now.Right now when I feel you under my ribs and in my chest.If I can just write through this, I won't let you take me there.But sometimes- I wish...... By Ileana Reich

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