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Тема: Teenagers' poems (Toronto) (Прочитано 1453 раз) |
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TimTaler
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Taken from http://www.tpl.toronto.on.ca/pdfs/young_voices_2002.pdf
Wing and Fang
S.B. - Age: 16
Wing and Fang were walking
Hand in hand
Her talons charred, leaving scarred
Claw marks in the sand
His step of love, wing of dove
Footprints in the sand
Flowing robes of satin
Heaven thread
Golden light, no bark nor bite?
Crown atop his head
Her lips of liar, horns of fire
Death atop her head
Her eyes of fire, her soul of ice
His love forevermore...
She the Evil, he the God
As so the others see
But she shall Live, and he the Dog
She fears insanity
And so the waves tears of the world
Hit the land
He soaks them up, fills his cup
Dry now is the sand
She does not stare, she does not care
For tears upon the sand
To heal the ocean’s violent crash
Crash of man
He draws sword from sheath, cuts self deep
Angel blood on sand
She sees his pain, she sees him slain
But no tears on the sand
Her eyes of fire, her soul of ice
Beneath which churns the ocean...
She the Evil, he the God
As so the others see
But she shall Live, and he the Dog
She fears humanity
Fang the Wicked
Fang the Bad
Fang the Goddess of the Sad
Wing the Giver of gifts she had
She the child within the beast
The innocent is seen the least
Hidden behind barbed wire mesh
And he craves the pleasures of the flesh
Wing and Fang were walking
Hand in hand
Child she cowers behind the glower
Of beast upon the sand
He the lamb with the lust for damned
His secret on the sand
She the Evil, he the God
Walking hand in hand
But she shall Live and he the Bitch
Together in the sand
You
E.S. - Age: 15
"When you plant a kiss into what does it grow?"
I remember I once asked her.
She simply answered
"You"
and left me standing confused.
I sat and wondered but always telling her I understood.
I made mistakes along the way, some i thought too much a soul to bear,
but all the while she simply answered
"You"
as she smiled and ran her fingers through my hair.
Many days later, more than i could count, she tripped and fell.
She let out her hand for me to grab and asked
"When you plant a kiss into what does it grow?"
I simply answered
"Me"
and let out my hand to grab hers.
She pushed it aside, tears in her eyes, and said
"I thought you understood"
Right then it clicked but time had passed and I saw her walk away as i
yelled to her
"You!"
but she was too far to hear.
For when you plant a kiss, it grows into the one you love, the one you'll
die with by your side.
But it takes two to plant a kiss and love to keep it alive.
I did neither unknowingly but only realized when it was too late...
Peace of Mind
H.Y. - Age: 16
Waves of conscience,
Sea of guilt,
Add one more stone,
For me.
Wander
T.Y. - Age: 15
Amidst the hurrying heels over Chinatown streets
. Wanders a tale lost –
Ancient echoes forever
. Pressing into the foreheads of grandparents –
Only
To emerge,
After millenniums –
. On the other side of the Earth
. Out of vaporous Wu-long Tea
Bittersweet
No where –
. Not through
. The traffic-congested Chinatown air
Not among the movements of young Dragon Dancers practicing stances
. To the beats of a music –
. Foreign and Strange
Not
. Inside the Delivery Boxes of a Chinese Restaurant
. Beside the Fortune Cookies –
Can the Tale find its way, its Home
Home –
Yellow Earth
. Yellow River –
Jia
Perhaps, Home is not a place.
Perhaps, Jia is different
. For each –
Memories that shape
. And unshape
Memories of –
. The Fragrance of a bowl of Rice
That Verse in an ancient Poem
. A broken thread on an embroidered silk dress
Grandma telling old stories over and over again
. Until they are echoes –
There was an old monk sitting in the temple, who tells a story of
. An old monk sitting in the temple, telling a story of an old monk –
Sitting in the temple, telling
Where shall the Tale be –
. When the time comes
That even memories are no more?
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| « Изменён в : 04/07/04 в 07:28:10 пользователем: TimTaler » |
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Nadia Yar
Живет здесь
Catilinarische Existenz
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Re: Teenagers' poems (Toronto)
« Ответить #1 В: 04/02/04 в 03:40:06 » |
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 Огромное спасибо.
Wing and Fang by Sue Bedford - это нечто. Мне это напоминает Мелькора и Унголиант, уходящих из Амана. Был такой рассказик, не вполне серьёзный, но совпал с моим глюком.
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| « Изменён в : 04/02/04 в 03:40:41 пользователем: Nadia Yar » |
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Я предлагаю для начала собраться, определить виноватых, расстрелять, а уж потом разбираться. (с)
Мой ЖЖ.
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R2R
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Re: Teenagers' poems (Toronto)
« Ответить #2 В: 04/02/04 в 11:08:10 » |
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Какие талантливые...
TimTaler, спасибо.
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"Кто играет с динамитом, тот придёт домой убитым"
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