Entries
11/19
Τηλέμαχος
(Walking up towards the throne,
one foot - planted to the solid rock
the other, following hesitantly.
The marble, laughs one deep note
of happiness or of jealousy from under me.
All the people of the world were observing me,
I could feel their gaze watching every unsure step I take.
Wasn’t I born for this? Wasn’t I bred for this?
With all the frowns, I force a faux smile to the crowd.)
Here today I stand (shaking)
to tell you that the day has come
where we will start a new journey
not out at sea, but rather
here on land.
Because no longer
will you have to put up with
the absence of a leading figure.
(Though my posture is quite thin)
Here today I stand,
tomorrow as well
and the day after that,
a leader- not a follower.
A new King.
A king of many, of plenty, of patience.
I, unlike the ones before me, will not be moved
even by the sweet salt of the ocean.
(Filling my lungs with recycled breath
I shudder, as do plants during harsh times
but of excitement not of death.
Letting go of all past fear
inhaling something of the new year.
I re-assure myself I am good enough
so I firmly place my foot upon the ground,
the ground that my people walk on,
the ground where at one time I doubted myself,
the ground where my father is now at ease,
the ground that I now claim as mine.
It might take longer than expected but
this burden is mine, and mine only.
I can make this what it was meant to be.
Although, if I am anything like father,
I might start drifting like a boat in a current.)
Based upon the poem ‘Ulysses’ by Lord Alfred Tennyson. (The title Τηλέμαχος, is Telemachus written in it traditional Greek, as to go along with the one-word title of the original.) *As a note, the words in brackets are sentences where the speaker is addressing himself.
(Walking up towards the throne,
one foot - planted to the solid rock
the other, following hesitantly.
The marble, laughs one deep note
of happiness or of jealousy from under me.
All the people of the world were observing me,
I could feel their gaze watching every unsure step I take.
Wasn’t I born for this? Wasn’t I bred for this?
With all the frowns, I force a faux smile to the crowd.)
Here today I stand (shaking)
to tell you that the day has come
where we will start a new journey
not out at sea, but rather
here on land.
Because no longer
will you have to put up with
the absence of a leading figure.
(Though my posture is quite thin)
Here today I stand,
tomorrow as well
and the day after that,
a leader- not a follower.
A new King.
A king of many, of plenty, of patience.
I, unlike the ones before me, will not be moved
even by the sweet salt of the ocean.
(Filling my lungs with recycled breath
I shudder, as do plants during harsh times
but of excitement not of death.
Letting go of all past fear
inhaling something of the new year.
I re-assure myself I am good enough
so I firmly place my foot upon the ground,
the ground that my people walk on,
the ground where at one time I doubted myself,
the ground where my father is now at ease,
the ground that I now claim as mine.
It might take longer than expected but
this burden is mine, and mine only.
I can make this what it was meant to be.
Although, if I am anything like father,
I might start drifting like a boat in a current.)
Based upon the poem ‘Ulysses’ by Lord Alfred Tennyson. (The title Τηλέμαχος, is Telemachus written in it traditional Greek, as to go along with the one-word title of the original.) *As a note, the words in brackets are sentences where the speaker is addressing himself.
10/19
Presents
when we are born
we are given a box
and a key;
when we are children we see no significance
we just want to open it
to let out the
treasure
or money
or whatever else it holds;
as we get older
we do get suspicious
why does the key
not fit the lock
is something that we've
probably asked;
we all want to throw away the box
it has no meaning
no sentimental value
or so we think...
It wasn't untill I had been walking one day,
to be hit from behind-
dropping the key in which I wanted answers to.
She smiled sweetly, picking it up for me,
I said my thanks and walked away.
It had not occured to me-
that she had switched our keys.
And at once, the box opened.
I now know who holds my heart.
when we are born
we are given a box
and a key;
when we are children we see no significance
we just want to open it
to let out the
treasure
or money
or whatever else it holds;
as we get older
we do get suspicious
why does the key
not fit the lock
is something that we've
probably asked;
we all want to throw away the box
it has no meaning
no sentimental value
or so we think...
It wasn't untill I had been walking one day,
to be hit from behind-
dropping the key in which I wanted answers to.
She smiled sweetly, picking it up for me,
I said my thanks and walked away.
It had not occured to me-
that she had switched our keys.
And at once, the box opened.
I now know who holds my heart.
10/13
Meteorology
As close as cloud and sky
bound to never be apart.
It's like our atmosphere,
or the liquid from our eyes.
Deep like the sea
a dark, black, bottomless perplexity.
Washed up corpses on the beach
Is really all that I can see.
As I close my broken eyes,
shattered glass scrapes
up the remains.
How am I supposed to find you,
when I myself am lost?
That falling feeling is great,
when you can still land on your two feet.
But don't pretend it didn't hurt a bit.
Muster all the words you think you know,
I'm sure you'll finally see that
it's not only your legs giving in.
Your skin isn't so soft,
and your eyes
like over washed pieces of glass.
Ripped by the torrent
and pelted by hail.
But whenever I look to your line of vision
I can only see myself,
mocking me from inside you.
As the only one
who can speak this way-
I'd ask you once,
Why did you stay?
I really enjoy the solitude.
But, awoken as always
I'm not sure if I can say
in this dream I've been having,
was it just a rainy day?
As close as cloud and sky
bound to never be apart.
It's like our atmosphere,
or the liquid from our eyes.
Deep like the sea
a dark, black, bottomless perplexity.
Washed up corpses on the beach
Is really all that I can see.
As I close my broken eyes,
shattered glass scrapes
up the remains.
How am I supposed to find you,
when I myself am lost?
That falling feeling is great,
when you can still land on your two feet.
But don't pretend it didn't hurt a bit.
Muster all the words you think you know,
I'm sure you'll finally see that
it's not only your legs giving in.
Your skin isn't so soft,
and your eyes
like over washed pieces of glass.
Ripped by the torrent
and pelted by hail.
But whenever I look to your line of vision
I can only see myself,
mocking me from inside you.
As the only one
who can speak this way-
I'd ask you once,
Why did you stay?
I really enjoy the solitude.
But, awoken as always
I'm not sure if I can say
in this dream I've been having,
was it just a rainy day?
