Ode to an Angel

The first time I held
That girl with
Skin as soft as cotton,
Eyes that burn like stars,
And a voice that
To this day
Resounds in my ears,
I felt hot and cold
All at once.
I have never felt
Closer to heaven
Than when I’m near
That Angel.
For surely someone so
Mighty and holy
That evokes such emotions
Within me—a simple man
Unused to things like
Love, affection, and joy—
Can only be called an Angel.
We are parted now,
But I will always look fondly
On the times I spent
With that Angelic being.
She continues to
Paint my life.

—C.R.E.

A Villanelle

Hey all, today I wrote a Villanelle... And didn't do much else haha. I stayed up until about four last night, unable to do anything but write... I got about twenty pages done of the first part of a story I'm working on. I'm not sure how it turned out yet--I'm a bit afraid to read it. How productive can any writing done at four in the morning actually be? Anyhow, I woke up around 11:30 and did a few things around the house. Then I talked to Nikki on the phone for a while and finished my Villanelle... Tell me what you think?

Weep, weep, dear love, for now the night is here.
Alas, you could not halt their leave-taking.
Come to me, love, and I will dry your tears.

Yes, they have gone, never again to cheer
The halls that are your soul’s earthly dwelling.
Weep, weep, dear love, for now the night is here.

But I am here, sweet one, to calm your fears—
So please, cease all your sorrowful wailing.
Come to me, love, and I will dry your tears.

Whether in or out of this mortal sphere,
Together we’ll brave the night’s dark dreamings.
Weep, weep, dear love, for now the night is here.

Worry no more for them—our now-past peers.
We are only us, one in our loving.
Come to me, love, and I will dry your tears.

Now, when we lie cold and alone, you hear
The rasping breath of Death’s simple coming
Weep, weep, dear love, for now the night is here.
Come to me, love, and I will dry your tears.

—C.R.E.

Truth

Today, I worked for four hours. It was good fun! =) I then went to FHE with my ward and had a pretty all right time. Slow day, but fun. Not feeling much like writing for some reason...

I wrote it quickly, but here you are.

On a quest to prove fidelity
I sought Truth, only to find that
He lived just across the way.
His home was a gated mansion surrounded
By those who would turn me from my quest.

I fought the mass of naysayers
And begged an audience with Truth,
Saying, “I care not about the consequence
Of Truth! I wish only to find it!”
As the gates swung wide, the mob was gone.

Truth sat across from me,
A handsome young man, all at once
Smiling and carrying on pleasantly.
He spoke with a honeyed tone and
Sold himself as one with compassion for me.

I smiled at him and pleaded for an answer
To my question on her faithfulness.
He grinned back and told me, quite truthfully,
Of her stepping out. He continued his glib
Attitude as he watched my world fall apart.

As I left Truth behind I realized
With heavy heart that he had enjoyed
Tearing my life asunder. Truth had not
Set me free, he had simply made me
Prisoner to a new master: Realization.

--C.R.E.

Crossroads

I... have found that when my creative juices aren't flowing, I have a hard time writing poetry. And yet, I'm still trying; I want to keep this challenge up!

I recently joined a college ward and am trying to get used to it... I'm one of the youngest and have been astounded by the people I've met. Some are so amazing! Spiritual, intelligent, funny, mature... I just love them. And some... are less mature than I expected college students to be--to put it kindly. It's sort of like high school all over again. Yay... Anyhow, overall, I like it.

Last night was great, by the way. We ended up skipping out on bowling and wound up at my house playing Apples To Apples. There were like... 9 of us by the end, I think. We abandoned A to A partway through the night and just drew the green cards and assigned them to people around the circle. I had a blast!

Well, here's another poem. Quickly written and with little to no creative process... I just haven't been able to get into it for the past few days. Just another hurdle, I guess.

I dreamed a dream and found myself
At life’s drear crossroad, alone and at a loss.
At one hand appeared a path paved with joys:
Earthly pleasures, desires and passions that seemed
To wax and wane with the very moon itself.
And as I gazed down this well-worn path
I became at once aware of the other choice on hand:
This path was scarcely paved, trodden, or considered.
It was naught more than a game trail blazed by
Those sad few before my time—those men and women
Who knew what the supposed-ease of the world’s path truly meant.
And, as I gazed in wonder at that mean trail laid out before me,
I no longer felt alone—indeed, I had found true companionship
Only along the Road Less Traveled.

--C.R.E.

A New Challenge

Hello my fine friends! So I've taken myself up on a challenge: Alongside little snippets of my life, I'm going to write(and post) one poem a day. It's sort of an exercise in stamina, resolve, and writing. Obviously not all of the poems--if any--are going to be winners. So I'm sorry, but just bear with me, eh?

I'm super excited! Yesterday was a slow day, but great. I got a lot done at home and read some Goose Girl by Shannon Hale(a wonderful novel--I recommend it wholeheartedly!). I woke up early for bundle drops--allow me to explain. Every few mornings out of the week I wake up at 3:30 AM and go pick up and drop off paper bundles at carriers houses... Basically, I'm a paperboy to the paperboys. Go figure. Anyway... Currently, I'm watching the movie Igor, writing in this blog, and thinking about what kind of poem I want to write today... Hm.

I go in to work today at 1 and work until 6, then I'm off to a fun-filled night of Fiesta Fun, Bowling, and some sort of dinner. It'll be great! So far, I have no idea who will be there except Nikki, possibly Shayne, and maybe Kaden and Saya. I hope they all come! It was Nikki's idea--she has a coupon for Fiesta Fun and bowling--so we tried to get a bunch of people. More on that in the future.

And now... A poem.

Having become drunk from
The beauty of your smile
I had failed to notice
The poison of your tongue

So when I took it upon myself
To pursue that beauteous grin
Many found it their duty
To stop my pursuit anon

I stood in wonder at how
These so-called comrades
Could be so cold and harsh in
Their dealings with me and my happiness

I ignored the sage advice of those
Well-meaning well-wishers
And found, through hardship,
Just how caustic you truly are

Oft times we find ourselves
Holding solely to our own understanding
And finding the wisdom of those
More objective than us fraught with error

Who knows us more truly?
Our own, inner selves...
Or those whom we've entrusted
With our love and friendship?

--C.R.E.

A Few Simple Poems

So, for some reason I have just been writing a lot of poetry lately. Don't get used to it, but here are a few. Please, if anyone out there is listening, tell me what you think--if you like something, mention it, if something wasn't good, tell me! I want to know!

Moved On

Step out of my mind, love
Leave my sight and take
Your song from my ears.
But nothing can sever
Your tie to my heart.
It calls in the stillness of the night—
Calls out your soul’s name,
Searches every corner of
Every place that we ever visited…
But of course, you’d moved on
From those lesser realms.
You walk now with Higher Beings.

—C.R.E.

The Kingdom of the Brokenhearted

Hail, hail to the Kingdom of the Brokenhearted!
Thy streets are paved with well-wishes and bold-faced lies,
Thy citizens waltz to the music of an infamous band of Demons—
Wanton beings inciting Anger, Envy, Spite, Derision, and Mistrust.

I know of your demonic King and of his cruel royalty—and still
I come to you on bended knee to beg entry to your loneliness.
For nothing of your Kingdom, no Demon, no man, no despairing wraith…
Could show to me the exquisite pain that losing her has.

I long to bask in thy solitude, O city of Dark Dreamings.
I desire anything to change my mind from thoughts of her.
For I would rather spend an eternity alone with a million
Other Brokenhearts than spend the rest of a lifetime thinking only of you.

—C.R.E.


Love

The world, it seems, is smiling at me.
And yes, I believe the sun and moon
To be but estranged friends, longing to meet.
For now I know of the sweeter meats of life—
I have fallen irreparably in love.
Why do I love her? A silly question
Asked only by those who have never drunk
From the Seraphic Pools of Love’s pure feeling.
There is no singular reason for such an emotion—
No reasonable way to present such a happy madness.
Though I suppose I could simply counter,
“I love her for all the reasons a man can
Love a woman of her caliber.” It would not do
The blinding truth of the matter any form of justice.
For, my sad and inexperienced friend, if ever
A single sentence can describe a pure emotion such as this...
Then surely it is not so pure.
For though wise men say the most exquisite
Things in life are indeed the simplest,
Love transcends any attempts made by the “wisdom” of men.

—C.R.E.

Being of First Poems and the Asking of Opinions

So here it is: The First Poem. I'm finally living up to the name of this blog--which, for the record, is meant more metaphorically than literally. I don't expect poetry to be the main aspect of this blog; I believe a blog written by me should, in turn, be predominately about me. That being said, expect some of my writings, musings, and poem-ings(now a word) from time to time.

So, anyone out there in wide ranges of the internet, I humbly ask an honest opinion--preferably your own ;)--of this "Meager" poem.

A Meager Record

For future generations,
I penned a meager record
Comprising lies I’d lied,
Mistakes I’d failed to avoid,
And life I couldn’t live.

I begged the unknown readers,
“Learn from my example!
Do not take your lives
Down the well-traversed paths
Of glib-encircled woe.”

I know not whether any
Will entertain my mean discourse—
Indeed, my only hope can be
That at least a single soul will see
A list of things better left undone.

--C.R.E.

P.S. When this post was written, the blog was still called "In Living Poetry". Hence the reference to the name. =) Sorry if I caused any confusion... but isn't the current name much more pleasant?

First Times, New Experiences, and Old Memories

I'm not entirely positive as to why I'm actually doing this. I've tentatively tried blogging in the past, found no real joy in it, and left it to others who more readily open up their minds and lives (or lack thereof) to the nameless and faceless "series of tubes" that we call the internet. Alas, here I am, blogging.

I'll keep this, my first post, short and simple--indeed, I won't even cram any homegrown, grassroots poetry down your collective gullet and ask for opinions that will ultimately be watered down half-truths at best--and end with this lovely thought: If I'm unproductively using my time to write this thing, then what would you call your time spent reading it? I'd actually like to know.

Signed as truly as possible,
C.R.E.