Christian000

Nevertheless, I'm delighted that I never did go further with the boy in the poem, delighted even that we lost touch after high school. I've had lots of great boyfriends, great flings, and great, enduring friendships; I'm really pleased that I have at least this one "perfect boy" in my memory. -its very interesting that you happen to cherish this memory so much, maybe even more than most other memories because of the innocence and simple goodness of the relationship. A comment deadsnake made seemed to me very true: that you can taste in this poem the glory of the morning and the beauty of the beloved. If you still plan to do more editing remember these two characteristics. God bless! -Anthony

I do not think this poem is very stylish at all. But it has something going for it. . . I do not yet regret writing it. . .

I am sleepless yet glad Longing and contemplating day and night for You. I wait for You. -for Your patience and mercy- I think of You. -of your sweetness and courage- My fibers ache for You while I lie upon my bed. The fine details of your life I reflect in my heart and in the dark early mornings I remember You. -Your loveliness and virtue daze me.- Forget me not; Draw near to me least the solitude consumes me or the raging darkness closes its jaws around me! Be a intimate companion to me. Hold me up and embrace me least I fall into a cruel snare. Be good to me. Sit with me. Talk with me. Let us share an evening alone together, if not, an eternity, my dearly Beloved Friend.

Thank you for this good commentary

It appears to me that the "love" this poem is talking about is a infatuation that grows into a destructive obsession that disassembles and thwarts a person's life and sense of purpose: "A lost cause and misguided direction just don't add up. Like you and I." This is what I understand from the poem but it also seems there is more to this poem since it never indicates that the substance of the relationship is what is causing this negative impact on the narrator's soul and not some other indirect cause. B+ (at least) I enjoy the beautiful illustration of despair obsessive relationships can have on a person. I totally do not understand the lines " But what is life without pain? An impossible possibility through Christ apparently." Someone please explain. . .

I lift up my harp and breathe in the lilies sweet. I let out a psalm with my soul. I will sing of His heart, His name, and His blood, but first I will sing of His love. I let out a psalm, a psalm to my Spouse, I let out a psalm to my Lord. Let my heart burst and overflow with love as I let out a psalm to my Lord. His love does not waver, neither should mine as I let out a psalm to my Dear. His compassion is sweet, more precious than life; I must let out a psalm to my Dove. His heart! most noble His heart! most humble I should let out a psalm to my Love! His name! a fragrance His name! most sacred Let it be honored as I let out a psalm to my Lord. With His Blood He has bought my love. Forever His, I must let out a psalm, a psalm to my Spouse, I must let out a psalm to my Lord. Let my heart burst and overflow with love as I let out a psalm to my Lord.

-To the Mother of my Love I look up at thy Son and I blush at His sight as He braces my breast with His hand so light. By thy Cross with thee to stay, by thy sorrows all my days; and bear thy pains till I daze so that one day I may sing His praise. O Mary! Let it be! That I may lay beneath His feet with thee, and drink from the sighs that He might offer me, thy Son, Jesus. Melt my heart and make it glow, least I freeze and die bellow, least I never see again the face of thy Son, Jesus. He who's touch has reft and wounded me. He who's sighs have swooned me. He who's kiss will consume me, Thy Son, Jesus. O Mary! Let it be! That I may lay beneath His feet with thee! and drink from the sighs that He might offer me, Thy Son, Jesus.

Kevin, I am in awe at how accurate your criticism is! Although your complements go way to far, what you have said is so accurate that without entering into mystic theology there is very little more to be said about this poem. The poem started as a spontaneous affection that I decided to write down, edit, and post on the web site to inspire readers to seek Christ. It is good to be young and surrendered to Jesus Christ.

Allow good, loving, and merciful Lord that I may live this life entirely and profoundly filled with shame, humiliation, and ridicule, That I may be slighted, forgotten, and disliked, That I may be utterly abandoned by all, or least recognized as the lowest and most disgusting creature on Earth, That I may always carry a black veil of shame over my head, To be forsaken by even your angels and saints as a hopeless thing beyond their pity, Save only that You may be moved with Mercy and Love for me, And only You may see me lovable and utterly beautiful. Because it is true! Truly the angels realize that I am so wicked, lowly, and weak that I am beyond their assistance Truly the angels know only Your Unfathomable Mercy, O Sacred Heart, could reach me! - Only You could heal me! Who but you can touch me and break my shame?! Your Love, and Your Love alone, my Lamb, I hope for! Your Love, and Your Love alone, O God, I desire. Look! Sweet Jesus! You have swooned me! Your Love has wounded me! I am Yours and You are mine. (This poem is centered on the chaste love between Man and the One who has loved him with Immortal, Limitless, Divine, and entirely selfless Love, the love between a soul and his Eternal Spouse. -Christ is the Eternal Spouse of the Church and individually of each soul-)

I find this poem sweet. It is a coming of age poem. The narrator experiences, first hand, other feelings associated with flowers, particularly pain and death. In other words, not just are flowers outlines to the scenery of spring -filled with marriage, joy, hope, and prosperity-, but also the outlines to hospital rooms where families gather to weep, morn, and experience some of the worst pains in their life. Other meanings of flowers are not mentioned in the poem, but normally you would want to reflect the meaning of flowers in your life after reading this poem. -Aren't flowers such ominous things, they follow us through all of our greatest anxieties- graduation, when dating, weddings, birth in the family, death in the family, and every single special occasion; anything that can be associated with stress is often accompanied with flowers to sooth us.

Today I saw flowers. Flowers of little colors but little shame. Flower whose pricks and hums echo. A dove of flowers in its own season; A dove I will never see. Flowers in warm water I saw today. Flowers that do not smell like flowers. Flowers till today were not not meant to be serene. Flowers till today were not flowers. Flowers of rancor I wish uncommon. For me, I wish apathy. But today relief will not come. Today I was not seen half-dead. Today, I saw flowers. I wrote this sometime Sophomore year (last year) over the death of my little baby brother five years ago.

PLEASE don't feel embarrassed!! Actually, when I went to see who commented my poems I noticed that you also read and commented all the others in the WHOLE FORUM; not just that but you did this at 1-am, what could I (or you) expect :lo: Sometimes, I write papers for school early in the morning that I feel at the time to be utter genius. I walk into school, expecting my due praise, with my head held high despite the weakness in my neck and hand into my teacher's hand some of the worst work I ever put on decent paper. Sometimes I open a book to read some poetry, read one poem, then immediately close the book to take a casual nap knowing I did not understand a single line I read. And not caring either. We can not be at our best all the time. Sadly only once in our life will we reach our pinnacle(by definition of what a pinnacle is), for the rest of our life we must settle for our best effort. Lately I have been preparing for the SAT lit exam, I read this one modern poem (written in the 1930s) and after analyzing to my deepest satisfaction I answered the questions and went to check my answers. Somehow I managed to answer all 8 multiple choice questions wrong (when I have 1/5 chance to guess a question right). That day I learned that modern poetry and classical poetry emphasis very different themes. While classical poetry (if not directly addressed) often alludes implications to more universal themes-love, youth, death, unrequited love, nature, etc- modern poetry often does no such thing (focusing more on current issues like industrialization, immigration, identity and culture, sexuality, human rights etc. . . often times without recognition of even one universal themes. Modern poets are more likely to use the literal meaning (or new meaning) of words while recognizing more the intricate interrelationships of groups in society. -Sometimes even just a inkling of knowledge can upset the efforts of great ability. If not the hundredth time, Kevin, thank you for your time and effort.

For all the pros out there- I know you all are wondering why I put so much excessive emphasis on the second line and not so much on the second to last: not just is it italicized and exclaimed, but also it has that "extra" part, "with my eyes" (all the lines in the poem are 4 and 9 syllables except the second line- it stand out completely-, yet it could just be written as "I lie to you!" which has 4 syllables). I have two reasons: 1.) "with my eyes" explains that the narrator even denies his feelings in his body language. 2.) "with my eyes" is better describing a personal relationship I have with someone which is almost entirely based on body language. This is crucial news to the narrator's love; and it burns him to deny his love something that he wishes to hear so direly (remember the conflict in the narrator, the part of him that wants to tell his love is narrating this poem in his head because he can not tell him the truth for reasons undisclosed -at least not completely- by the narrator). I write the poem in the context of this relationship. At this point, I will admit that I am also the narrator. - I did not want to admit it at first because I did not want to undermined the validity of the poem by letting the audience know that I wrote the poem in a context they could never read and fully understand. Also you might ask "why put emphasis on the second and not the second to last?"- "they are both the short comings of the narrator to his love, why doesn't the narrator treat them both with the same pain?" 1) The narrator does not want to over scrutinize the particular reasons why he repents so much. remember this poem is narrated in his head; also his list of repentance and the reason why he repents are placed side-by-side. he does not want to even think or hint for a slit second the opposite (that lying may not be worth the sacrifice) so he jets over(the dash after the sorrows) to the ultimate reason why he repents for his lies (his "O Dear so dear") which he further emphasis by putting extra space in-between the words of the last line. The last "unknown" in the poem- I mentioned the importance of the lines where he list his repentance and said that they are more focused on the fact that he does repent, then why don't I put an exclamation point at the end of this line? 1.) again, this is referenced just slightly out of context. The narrator, while he is preoccupied more with his love then with himself when he says "Yet do not fret!!", he doubts that he really cares for his spiritual/emotional/mental condition by feeling unsure whether or not it is appropriate to emphasis "For I repent" as if his love really wants to hear this. again, this ties into my personality and many factors that you could only recognize if you actually knew me and my relationship with this person.

This poem is very paradoxical (in fact it is the most so I ever written until I vex-up my other poem on Death).

You hit the target Kevin. The narrator does not tell his love how dearly he loves him nor just how much pain he goes through in life; yet he does this out of love. Because he feels guilty for denying him from his feels we can assume that his love also loves him to an extent. He loves him so much that he would keep him entirely from himself to protect him from something undisclosed ---notice that the narrator puts two exclamation points after "fret" and nothing after were he mentions his sufferings; the narrator is much more occupied with his love's possible pain then with his actual pain. also he list is pains not to feel sympathy for himself but to emphasis that he does repent--- but probably from his "sorrows" or whatever he associates with it. Notice also that the poem is in the present tense, so love which is mentioned in the poem is still disclosed- the poem itself is an omission (I wrote the entire poem in [] but I forgot to put them on when I typed it on the cite). The first line is exclamated for the bitter irony and pain of loving someone so dearly yet he may not recognize himself as his "O Dear so dear"- if he actually said it. The narrator is telling himself that it is ok that he denies his most dearest of dears because he makes up for every moment not being with him with his own deep sufferings.

I was really hoping the readers would recognize the sinister emphasis- "what type of creature/person would come sneaking out from the shadows with such a vibrant, powerful and dark appearance?" -then it becomes much more painful to see the narrator offer his body so willingly- generally, I do not want the reader to know exactly who ("it could be hopelessness, hate, maybe love personified as evil, the devil, generally anything naturally sinister and nonhuman) it is until the end. I love this poem and yet I was hoping to make a large narrative poem describing the narrator's love affair with death with a few passages of dialogue between him and death, and also a message addressing his true love (his human love). Ultimately, I wanted the reader to truly get the sense "Death loves me more then you!" and because of this the narrator owes himself to Death. I use a lot of play on words; the same way the reader has to walk down a fine line to read the alliteration, rhyme, and puns (steps-depth, fill-feel, breast-breath; when usually rhyme, alliteration and puns make it easier to read I use it make it harder ) the narrator has to walk down a fine line to continue his affair with Death yet not die. THANKS SOO MUCH FOR COMMENTING ALL MY POEMS!!!! YOU WORK SOOOO HARD!!!

From the shadow approaches With gossamer steps Who hums harmonic depth; With eyes as colored as skin as bold; With hair as black as black untold. Here is my body! Your wine, my breast. Fill it whole with your breath. Feel it tremble with your test. It is yours, all that is left, My maiden, My sweet sweet Death.

[O Dear so dear! I lie to you with my eyes! Yet do not fret!! For I repent With a thousand deaths and countless tears And endless shrieks of horror and fear For denying my love and sorrows- O Dear so dear.] BTW, I took the exclamation point off of the forth line because the transition between the different tones is too sharp (this makes the poem seem obscure); so, I will return it back to the way I originally had it. -written between Sunday and today.

I love anime and manga!! I still read manga like offbeat (pg13 boy meets boy story) and naruto. As a kid I was obsessed (I still am with some of these stories) I watched Pokemon, DBZ, Sailor Moon, Yu Yu Hakasho (if thats how to spell it), Cowboy Bebop, Flcl, Inuyasha, Digimon, Rurouni Kenshin, Rahxephon and many others. I still love these characters in these stories, they made a Powerful emotional impact of my life as a child from 7-13, 14. Obviously even now that I work at the NY Go center all thanks to my exposure of japanese culture in anime. BTW, Pai-chan I love your picture of Shusaku vs Gennan Inseki "ear rendering move". Are you a Go player? The other animes and mangas I loved but did not have as strong as an effect was/are Yugioh (in 2 1/2 years I spent hundreds if not, thousands of dollars on their pcg (playing card game)) , Chobits, Dears, FMA (full metal alchemist- can u believe I joined an online fan club for the voice over of the main character in this series), Naruto, and Hikaru No Go. Along with these I read and watched many others. I went to two anime conventions: Anime Next and Otakon I stopped watching anime when I started playing Judo again. The reason is it took up the exact times I usually watch anime. Because, anime was the only thing I watched on a regular bases I stopped watching TV. Also, I slowly gave up my dedication to manga when I started playing Go as a serious hobby/mental-sport. I felt it was a better use of my time- it is just, if not more, respectable than chess. It also strengthen my sense of purpose, self discipline and patience. When watching two experienced Go players sit and meditate with breath-yielding intensity in front of the board it is evident that this is a game truly worthy dedicating your life to. Because of this I was not concerned if Go might not be a proper way to spend the very little life offers. Sooooo. . . what boy meets boy (pg13) mangas do you recommend?!

FRAGMENTS, THOUGHTS, PHILOSOPHIES AND WRITINGS OF A SIXTEEN YEAR OLD FOOL. -I am right not because I have the truth but because I chase the truth fearlessly (First passage, 7 December 2007) What am I? Why am I here? How am I to interpret my experience? What can I truly believe since my illustration of reality is only substantial through my five senses? To what extent may I believe people and society since I can only experience them outside my subconscious mind? If these uncertainties are true why would I study the hard sciences (which are based on perception of truth)? I study language and communication (essentially the humanities- I will define it as all knowledge based on the credit of people and society and on the assumption that their is a coherence between oneself and others) so that I can gain from people and society, who I believe to be similar to me, even though I can not prove that. If we are truly not similar (ex: if my point of view is truly the only point of view or by nature the world construes our vantage points) studying humanities would prove a waist of time. But if not, humanities can prove a very prominent, if not essential savior. Concluding, I with to understand the sensation of my experience, the phenomena and abstraction of form (the mystery of Truth). Because I believe we may be tested at any moment (by God, Death, or by the instability of the world or simply any power, or phenomena that my challenge us) we should be mentally prepared for the ultimate climax of our existences, ready to make any decision, if necessary, whenever. And also, because through personal revelation that can at any time alter the outcome of this climax we should be prepared to make and accept profound change at every corner. Through all this I have come to recognize knowledge/understanding as a singular united body that can, and preferably be a singular piece and not a collection of separate "useful" instruments. For ultimately they are useless as a collection of plural items- we will be tested in a singularity (of time or better yet, out of time or no time) and as a singularity; why would we need a collection if we can only live on one at a time. Instead these separate items should become puzzle pieces to the one, uniform, ever changing, ever evolving, dynamic puzzle of our experience and understanding. With this I realize my third natural inclination- At every moment we are reincarnated into the person that carries on the next moment. Through this dynamic, evolutionary steps of superior preparation and understanding we become substitutes of what we were one moment ago, capable of becoming anything and everything that person (one moment ago) was not. - In truth, these questions, uncertainties and inclinations are the only guiding force of my actions. They are the bases of who I am, they are the roots of my philosophy which stems into my actions.

FRAGMENTS, THOUGHTS, PHILOSOPHIES AND WRITINGS OF A SIXTEEN YEAR OLD FOOL (Second Passage- December 9th 2007) Deviating from western philosophy, I believe that wisdom and readiness are all that can survive war and that through war potential becomes wisdom. That human capacity to understand, become substantial and powerful, to love is the product of trial and suffrage. In piece these concepts of flourishing love, knowledge, poetry, art is essentially unsubstantial. In peace you can only circumspect these substantiating concepts, we may never know love, knowledge, philosophy, art (all these things which attempt to point at an underlying Truth and human soul) by circumspection. -in ten years of peace two lovers will only gain ambiguous love, amorphous love but in one week of war may gain the world in wisdom and love. Knowledge at best is preservable in peace but only gained through war. In truth wisdom and knowledge- talent is wasted in times of peace even rotten by peace. In peace nothing is gained and all may be lost but in war all is substantiated and truth is gained. War is the test of all men that determines the value of everything. All knowledge, art and love is subjective in peace and objective in war. Whether you are smart or dumb, a saint or a devil does not matter in times of peace for these things (everything) can only be tested in war. A lover's love is fool's love in peace and God's love in war- everlasting, all knowing and all powerful. Peace distracts us with pop culture- media such as internet, TV and music are completely watered down with meaningless garbage ultimately making us materialistic and superstitious and turn us subject to society. When society should be subjective to us. While war forces us to look at the essential, raw fabric of society- society in us and us in society. -forcing us to look at media, text and ourselves so that we deviate from what knowledge which will fail to save us and what will crown us king and victor of wisdom and war. -to fear, struggle, fight, suffer and die is to live as living in peace and mediocrity is to not live If peace is to be premeditated, to be feared, to fail in the pursuit of the Truth. Than let self discipline be king and victor over peace. -if red martyrdom is unavailable search for white martyrdom If we are not tested at every moment, with every 1/2 breath we take in than let us test ourselves. Let what is impossible in self be met and transcended an infinite fold- not just to replace the struggle of war but also prove all reality, fable, conceptual and unfathomable- let it be the key to every door you seek open. So that all that is mathematically impossible be proven and in every moment as possible. Let chaos rain in every mind and space at every moment. Let their be no bar to plateau us in what maybe in someone's mind as mediocre Let our minds shoot past the stars past reality so that our minds and passions grow supernaturally not just exponentially let our minds and actions be eternally viewed as all encompassing mediocrity for this and everything in our environment should push us forward. Because our institutions whether tangible (any body or group of bodies) or intangible (mind/soul or groups of them) should not be judged by their position (for everything real is mediocre) but by their rate of change ( which is and should be supernatural). Let all our thoughts and actions be POTENT with meaning, and if not, let our reason give it meaning- let it SUBSTANTIATE EVERYTHING Whether or not at the moment "it makes sense": draw from everything you do and have done along with everything that is around you. Everything given will be tested as a puzzle piece in the riddle of life/reality (the sensation of you) Every piece does not have to be large, few will, but always remember every piece will be used somehow, large or small.

The Observer of Time The ground moves as I stand still My eyes gaze with weakness Cars dash past me with great speed The Complex Labyrinth seems to move in circles, somehow endless The same events one after another, Yet every once in a while a new pattern sets and repeats That is the only true way I know I am moving . . . I see without eyes I hear without ears What illusion scorns me when I am alone What am I . . . ? I wish to move with the cars, But my mind searches for the Grand Perspective, to stop and see the Complex Labyrinth Clearly. -written fall of 2005 (high school freshmen poetry)

written fall of 2005 (high school freshmen at the time)

Shades of Gray Flows of dreams. . . Enchanted beauty. . . Grand shreds of a divine sea. . . The soft delicate essence of the breeze against the thoughts. . . The sight of a white rose of a bird, such a jaunty sight. What trance do I fall in as I think to myself these thoughts "Why do I question myself?" I fade as I "fall" to question these unearthly views. . . But are our thoughts, vantage points, understandings, and emotions just a intricate, convoluted "Matrix" of lies? -Such a doleful and ghastly thought. Do I see black as you see white? We look through so many mirrors and windows but what do we gain? We search for a lucid Truth but is that what we will truly find at the end of the tunnel Or will it continue forever, incessant, not showing us black nor white, But only shades of gray. . .

Because I Search for Truth I present myself in full look into my eyes my soul is overflowing for i wish to define myself for i wish to satisfy my purpose hate me love me Fear Me let your soul drown in disparity Fall Down let the earth break under your feel freefall, my love flesh of Eve militant son of Adam draw your sword for i wish to destroy you in full i wish to wrench your existence from reality for tis time to fight, learn, and suffer, for tis time to Be and Feel Alive