Poe-st Toasty

Enjoy with my compliments another Poe-etic gem! This one was apparently co-written with his brother Henry.
The Happiest Day
The happiest day–the happiest hour
My sear'd and blighted heart hath known,
The highest hope of pride and power,
I feel hath flown.

Of power! said I? yes! such I ween;
But they have vanish'd long, alas!
The visions of my youth have been-
But let them pass.

And, pride, what have I now with thee?
Another brow may even inherit
The venom thou hast pour'd on me
Be still, my spirit!

The happiest day–the happiest hour
Mine eyes shall see–have ever seen,
The brightest glance of pride and power,
I feel–have been:

But were that hope of pride and power
Now offer'd with the pain
Even then I felt–that brightest hour
I would not live again:

For on its wing was dark alloy,
And, as it flutter'd–fell
An essence–powerful to destroy
A soul that knew it well.
THE END

Shame, Shame, Shame

Shame, Shame, Shame
The finger has been pointed
And the ones who are to blame
Are those who profit from and exploit
Another person's pain

Those who stand by apathetic
And who revel in the same
Though they may not have created it
Are equally to blame

They ought to be ashamed
But they don't give a damn
They keep looking for more victims
To add to their vile plan

Using little children
For sexual exploitation
Marrying sex with gore and violence
Is a shame on every nation

Images of real murder and suicide
Used for entertainment is plain vile
Where I feel their pain, someone else gets a thrill
How can misfortune make some people smile?

Is it freedom of expression
To depict rape as being fun?
Should images of mutilated corpses
Be on view for everyone?

I try to understand and to have sympathy
But some are evil to the core
I've only got so much kindness to go 'round
I've none left for evil ones any more

I hope that they all rot in hell
For the pain they've brought to others
I really don't care if God has pity on them
May He have pity on the victims' mothers

Shame and shame and shame again
On those who exploit others' misfortune
Shame on those who enjoy seeing anguish exploited
I hope that one day you'll be scorchin'

In Hell there's always plenty of room
For those who did others a wicked turn
And while unconditional love is the kindest of ways
Some people just need to burn

Mercy on the souls of those exploited so wrongly
Mercy on the souls of those who mourn them each day
Mercy on the souls of those exposed accidentally
To images which bring such dismay

Shame on the souls of those who exploit
The helpless and lost ones they meet
I hope that one day justice will be met on them
In the name of all they mistreat

Blessings on those who give a damn
Though we may appear to be few
We can't stop trying to heal what's gone wrong
And hoping to let love renew

Peace upon those who have suffered exploitation
Peace upon the victims of mutilation
Peace upon those who chose suicide
Peace upon their loved ones who cried
Peace upon the planet
Peace upon the Universe

Written 12/28/2005
By Cie
Who's damn pissed off
But still really cares about my fellow humans
Even though there seem to be a disproportionate number of assholes and morons among us!

Writing Novels, Alchemy, Tarot and Poetry

Interesting.

Another Rememberance

Apologies to those who find this depressing.
If you find yourself relating, feel free to share a little of what's on your mind, if you wish.
Caring for each other is the only way we can heal.
Peace.

FOR HOWARD
When she left and broke your heart
You thought there'd never be another
You couldn't understand
You thought there was something fatally flawed in you
And so you chose the final solution
They found you with the sheet tied tight around your neck
The other tied to the rafter
Never again to see the sun
Never to have another chance at love
Why didn't you call a friend?
Why didn't you come and find me?
We could have had a soda or a milkshake or a beer
I'd have spent all the time you needed letting you tell me how you hurt inside
I'd have been your confidante
Or if not me, somebody else
The wrong choice was choosing nobody
Believing there was nobody
And so in your eighteenth year you were gone from this world
In peace may you sleep
And be lovingly embraced in the thoughts of those who remember

For Howard G.
1965-1983

Written December 24, 2005

One of Mine, Believe it or Not!

I was inspired to create this piece for a couple of reasons. One of them is the song "Gone Away" by the Offspring. The lyrics and my thoughts regarding this song can be found in the previous post.
The other is because it's a way to work out my emotions surrounding the difficult issue of suicide and the reasons why people who I'd rather were alive took their own lives. The words may refer to a specific person, but the feeling encompasses several people.
I understand why people commit suicide and have attempted it myself. Most of the attempts were pretty half-assed, in retrospect. But sometimes I wonder why I failed and those who live forever in my mind and whom I can't touch succeeded. Why did no-one intervene? I can drive myself crazy with these questions.
I alternate between wanting to hug these people close or to kick them in the ass hard!
If they were to appear before me, I'd say something like "Oh my God, it's so good to see you, you bone-headed stupid fuck! How could you kill yourself and break everyone's heart that loved you? How could you fail to see that you were loved?"
Of course it's way more complicated than those who have never been suicidal can imagine.
With no further ado, here's my poem.

Beautiful Dark Soul
Beautiful dark soul
Why couldn't you hold out
The gift of life that was given to you
So quickly was snuffed out

Your belief that you were worth nothing
That nobody cared for you
Deprived the world of something
More precious than you ever knew

Beautiful dark soul
Hurting so badly inside
I didn't understand you at first
But once I knew better, I cried

For a friend that I can never in this life meet
For someone who touched my heart
Life is a gift but it can be cruel
And I guess that it tore you apart

Dear spirit, I hope you are peaceful
That the pain inside has been soothed
That you understand now that many did care
And that your self-hate is removed

Beautiful dark soul
I hope I can know you someday
I'd consider it a privilege and honor
To call you my friend if I may

Written December 23, 2005

Down With OPS

That's Other People's Songs!
This is a favorite from The Offspring

Gone Away
Maybe in another life
I could find you there
Pulled away before your time
I can't deal, it's so unfair

And it feels
And it feels like
Heaven's so far away
And it feels
And it feels like
The world has grown cold
Now that you've gone away

Leaving flowers on your grave
Shows that I still care
But black roses and Hail Mary's
Can't bring back what's taken from me
I reach to the sky
And call out your name
And if I could trade
I would

And it feels
And it feels like
Heaven's so far away
And it stings
Yeah, it stings now
The world is so cold
Now that you've gone away.

Beautiful, powerful, painful. The pain resonates in the soul of the writer and the souls of those who can relate. And eventually it is soothed by the understanding we share, although the emptiness left behind never dies.
I have near to my soul the spirits of several people who committed suicide and one who died in a motorcycle accident as well as a few others who died before their time. I try to understand, and when I can't, I pray that they may be healed and granted peace.
That's why I love this song.

Peace,
Cie

Down with OPP

That's Other People's Poetry!
Today I shine the spotlight on the great Edgar Allan Poe, one of my all-time favorites.
I'll publish more of my stuff eventually, but sometimes it's kind of discouraging. I actually like some of what I've written, however, I look at other things and get really depressed. The stuff that was real crap, ie mournful sonnets of unrequited love from 10th grade (really really shitty stuff, I guar-on-tee!) I've already thrown out!
In the meantime, heeeeeeeere's Edgar!

The City in the Sea
From Wikisource
Author:Edgar Allan Poe
Lo! Death has reared himself a throne
In a strange city lying alone
Far down within the dim West,
Where the good and the bad and the worst and the best
Have gone to their eternal rest.
There shrines and palaces and towers
(Time-eaten towers that tremble not!)
Resemble nothing that is ours.
Around, by lifting winds forgot,
Resignedly beneath the sky
The melancholy waters lie.

No rays from the holy heaven come down
On the long night-time of that town;
But light from out the lurid sea
Streams up the turrets silently-
Gleams up the pinnacles far and free-
Up domes- up spires- up kingly halls-
Up fanes- up Babylon-like walls-
Up shadowy long-forgotten bowers
Of sculptured ivy and stone flowers-
Up many and many a marvellous shrine
Whose wreathed friezes intertwine
The viol, the violet, and the vine.
Resignedly beneath the sky
The melancholy waters lie.
So blend the turrets and shadows there
That all seem pendulous in air,
While from a proud tower in the town
Death looks gigantically down.

There open fanes and gaping graves
Yawn level with the luminous waves;
But not the riches there that lie
In each idol's diamond eye-
Not the gaily-jewelled dead
Tempt the waters from their bed;
For no ripples curl, alas!
Along that wilderness of glass-
No swellings tell that winds may be
Upon some far-off happier sea-
No heavings hint that winds have been
On seas less hideously serene.

But lo, a stir is in the air!
The wave- there is a movement there!
As if the towers had thrust aside,
In slightly sinking, the dull tide-
As if their tops had feebly given
A void within the filmy Heaven.
The waves have now a redder glow-
The hours are breathing faint and low-
And when, amid no earthly moans,
Down, down that town shall settle hence,
Hell, rising from a thousand thrones,
Shall do it reverence.

Retrieved from "http://en.wikisource.org/wiki/The_City_in_the_Sea"

And now we know in part where H.P. Lovecraft got the idea for R'Lyeh.
Greatness influencing greatness--can't top that!
Peace,
The Cheesemeister

The Poetry of a Tortured Soul

Not me, believe it or not!
I'm kinda tortured--ok, I'm a lot tortured! But I'm also significantly snarky. I'm full of piss and vinegar, and I have a really strange and ridiculous sense of humor that keeps me going.
Click the title link to meet the person who wrote the poems. I didn't meet him in time to give him a Piss and Vinegar transfusion or a Snarkiness donation so sadly, he died too young.
I quite by accident discovered him while doing research for my story. I didn't intend to feel such intense sympathy for him. In fact, I didn't intend to like him one bit. I'm ashamed to admit that I was actually targeting him as possible fodder for some ghoulish humor. But the more I learned, the more sympathy I felt and I think I need to kick myself with a steel-toed boot for even considering such base actions!
Shows to go what you can happen when you bother to get to know someone, even if only through research. A person whom I originally thought of as pathetic, malevolent and probably psychotic and I now see as highly intelligent, basically good-natured (although being tormented throughout youth brought forth intense anger in some of his poetry) and sadly mistaken about the true goodnes of his soul and how much some people cared for him.
See more of my thoughts on this.
The author of the poems was Swedish. His English skills were basically excellent but there are occasional places where his translation is somewhat rough. This doesn't really effect the larger context of the poetry and I find it somewhat charming. However, I've always been a sucker for things that are somewhat aberrant. The author and his poetry both fill the bill quite nicely!

This is my favorite one:
Life Eternal
A dream of another existence
You wish to die
A dream of another world
You pray for death to release the soul
One must die to find peace inside, you must get eternal
I am mortal, but am I human?
How beautiful life is now when my time has come
A human destiny but nothing human inside
What'll be left of me when I'm dead, there was
Nothing when I lived
What you found was eternal death
No-one will ever miss you.

(Cie sez: Apparently lots of people miss you, Dude. I miss you and am pissed at you because you never let me meet you! Suicide is usually a permanent solution to a temporary problem. I've played with the idea more than once. Sometimes the thought still tempts me. But it's the wrong choice nine times out of ten.)

Here's some more work:
Buried By Time and Dust
Visions of that no morning's
Light will ever come near. I'm too old now.
The dark is so near, will I ever reach the land beyond
This is where we go when we have to die
I've been old since the birth of time. Time buried me in Earth
Centuries ago I tasted blood
Buried by time and dust
Many years has passed since the funeral
Missing the blood of human throats
So many years, ages ago
I must await, feel my body's stench
Wanderings out of space
Wanderings out of time
A world out of light, death at the end
Only silence can be heard, silence of people's tears
No one knows my grave
Buried by time and dust

Ancient Skin
In these nights of magic
Where great pamis obscured
By the fantasy dragon made real
By the powers of lingering trauma
I looked beyond the dawn of day
Beyond the angst-ridden faces
Into the mind captured behind
Living the lie of the weakened ones
I captured the moment given
I denied the sickening love
Turned to the purity of anger
I saw myself in the abyss
Complete fullness I now own
I return to Earth a demon race
Denied by man through ages
Now I walk the dying soil
Atrocities turned to beauty
Machines of torture turned art
Beneath your cities I sleep
At dawn I weep

Cursed to Eternity
My name was written with
Fire in the place you only
Can see when your time has come
When you walk down in the
Land of shadows for eternity
The demon flies in the blackened
Starless skies and crawls in
The bottomless depths of Hell
The name which will be a
Thousand times cursed in eternity
Condemned to wander, until it comes
To the cruelest snake that crawls
The demon flies in the blackened
Starless skies and crawls in the
Bottomless depths of Hell

(CH Sez: I like the unexpected line breaks. Poe did similar stuff on occasion.)

The Freezing Moon
Everything here is so cold
Everything here is so dark
I remember it as from a dream
In the corner of this time
Diabolic shapes float by
Out from the dark
I remember it was here I died
By following the freezing moon
It's night again, night you beautiful
I please my hunger on living humans
Night of hunger, follow its call
Follow the freezing moon
Darkness is growing, eternity opens
The cemetery lights up again
As in ancient times
Fallen souls die behind my steps
By following the freezing moon

From The Dark Past
A face in stone, decayed by age
A man who has returned to tell of his damnation
Fears so deep, the mouth open wide
The scream died away before dawn of this time
The eyes stare so empty
The mouth screams so silent
Tell me! What did you see there?
In the darkness of the past
Ancient times legends stories so dark
Blackened his sight now not even memories are left
Back after such a long time, the stone is cold as death
But what formed its true fears, only the wind is able to tell

(CH sez: You can really see the image and feel the dark, cold surroundings. A few simple words convey intense atmosphere.)

Funeral Fog
Every time this year
This dark fog will appear
Up from the tombs it comes
To take one more life that
Can be near
In the middle of Transylvania
All natural life has for a long
Time ago gone, it's thin and so
Beautyful, but also so dark and
Mysterious
Once again the priest is messing
May God bless us all
The fog is here again
That'll complete the funeral
From a place empty of life
Only dead trees are growing here
As it comes from afar
Only dead trees are growing here
Funeral fog

(CH sez: The odd line break was a bit awkward here, but the atmosphere of the poem doesn't suffer. Inspiring indeed to a horror novelist!)

I am Thy Labyrinth
They speak
In the garden of the prophet
Divine madness
The order of the cosmic immortal
For what is humanity
If not forlorn
And crawling in my hands
When the moment sings
For I have read the signs
And I have solved the riddle of eternal life
The Jinnah have spoken
For I have read the signs
And I have solved the riddle
Of eternal life

(CH sez: Envisioning some demented Arab sorcerer preparing to bring devastation to the land. Again, great fun for those of us who enjoy horror fiction.)

Pagan Fears
The bloody history from the
Past deceased humans now forgotten
An age of legends and fear a time now
So distant
Less numbered as they were in their lives
So primitive and pagan
Superstitions were a part of the life
So unprotected in the dark nights
Pagan fears
The past is alive
The past is alive
Woeful people with pale faces
Staring obsessed at the moon
Some memories will never go away
And they will forever be here

(CH sez: The metaphysical student in me says this guy had something horrible beyond belief happen to him in a past life. He didn't resolve it before reincarnating and it made this life miserable for him as well.)

Symbols of Blood Swords
All the stars in the north are dead now
All the morals of wasted human debris
Walk with me into the night
Do not remove the cobwebs
Of war clinging to your face
They will tell of pains unknown
All the stars in the north are dead now
All the morals of wasted human debris
Torn to pieces--handcrafted delirium
One war remains, War of everything
Tanto magis infra se cecidit
Quanto magis so contra gloriam
Sui conditoris erexit

(CH Sez: I'm thinking H.P. Lovecraft. I'm also thinking he knew Latin far better than I do. Don't ask me to translate--I can't.)

Granted, these are the hand-picked gems.
I did this so I could include him in my Poets I Like links. 'Cause he belongs there!
Sweet dreams, Dude. And mark my words, when my hour comes, we have an appointment to talk or go haunt something. Be there!

With Deepest Regards,
Cie

The Scar Of A Rose

The Scar Of A Rose
Her works are in Spanish, but you can use the Babelfish to translate!
As someone once said, if you ain't cheatin', you ain't playin' the game right! ;-)

From the End of a Marriage

Another painful poem written in 1991 or 1992
COMEDY
Life's a cruel joke
And it's plain to see
The only thing I'm good at
Is failing miserably

I'll never be no good
I'll never get nowhere
I'd shoot myself in the head
But I don't really care

I can't even write
I prob'ly can't read
I can't get what I want
I don't fill any need

If I ever make good
I think I'll drop dead
Because being a chronic failure
Is the station to which I was bred

So go ahead and laugh
Go on and have your fun
Because we all end up going under
When all is said and done

Commentary from Today's Cheesemeister:
Holy crapoley! With that kind of pain, Me back then was the kind of person that Me Now feels deep sympathy for. It's no wonder I can relate to this tortured soul.

Makes me wonder what the hell possesses my rational mind when I have those rare occasions where I think I can quit taking my Lithium because "hell, I feel good today. I probably could go without it and see what happens."
My ass! Never fall for that Stupid Bipolar Trick!
I took it anyway. Because the fewer times that I feel like I did when writing the above poem the better. The Holy be Praised for Lithium!

Peace,
The Cheesemeister

Heaven grant peace to Howard, Jim, Rachel and Per, and all others who didn't make it through the pain.

A little social commentary

Also written 1991 or 1992

HOLLYWOOD
What is success?
Is it how you dress?
Or undress?
Who you are don't count
On your dollarsworth amount

Life,
Like Hollywood
Is superficial
If you're gonna make good
Your appeal must be initial

Celluloid heroes
Die alone too
For each living person
Life's a struggle to get through

So screw Hollywood
It's all a big lie
If transparent you live
Then lonely you die

Old School

Written 10-15 years ago. Things had gotten really bad with my then-husband. I've repressed a lot of the feelings I had at the time. This made me remeber just how awful I really felt. But it's like looking into someone else's life to remember it because I've changed so much since then.


BE REAL
FEEL
CONCEAL
STEAL
BE REAL

LIFE
KNIFE
WIFE
STRIFE

CONCEAL
WHAT YOU FEEL
STEAL
SOMEONE'S LIFE
SOMONE'S HEART
BE REAL

NO LIFE
OF MY OWN
LIVE THROUGH YOU
OR BE ALONE

PAIN
BRAIN
STRAIN
TRAIN

TRAIN ME HOW TO FEEL
I DON'T KNOW WHAT'S REAL
FEEL THE PAIN
IN MY BRAIN
LIFE'S A STRAIN
LIVE MY LIFE
IN MY HEART
LIFE TEARS ME APART

LIE
SIGH
CRY
DIE
BE REAL

Probably written in 1991 or 1992.
If it wasn't for my son, I probably would have killed myself. I remember feeling really bad, but I can't call up those feelings, which is probably a good thing.

Peace.

Sister

Written 9/10/2005

I'm afraid I'm always gonna be seen
As everybody's surrogate sister
I like being buddies and having a laugh
But sometimes I wish I had a mister

No certain look is needed
But there's certain traits required
A loving man that wants me the way I am
Is gonna get me inspired

I realize I'm not beautiful
I'm aware that my youth has faded
And having made more than one too many mistakes
Has put me at five past jaded

I'm a woman with true character
I'm a woman who's all heart
I can stand my ground and hold the course
Don't need no users to tear me apart

If I have to go my own in this life
It's better than wasting love on the wrong man
But I've still got lots of love to give someone
I'd like one more chance if I can

But before I go and give my love
I gotta know he's the real thing
Which means only one man can be right
And make my sad heart sing

So don't even bother wasting my time
With "hey Baby, let's spend the night"
Or on stalking and fatal attraction
When I told you it don't feel right

Cause way before the sex thing could happen
The right man would earn my trust
'Cause I"m not willing to waste my love and my time
If all a man's after is lust

Lust is common, lust comes cheap
Good if heartbreak and disease is what you're after
But I'm too old to play those stupid, soul-wasting games
It's time to write a new chapter

I'll just have to pray to Heaven above
To send out the right man for me
And man, if you're wrong I won't trouble myself
I'd rather sail on alone in life's lonely sea

But I'll make one last plea to Heaven
That loneliness ain't the sentence for me
Please send me down an angel to love
From here to eternity

My Comments:
Not the best poem I ever wrote, but it'll get the ball rolling!

Peace,
Cie
The Lady Writer on your Computer Screen

My Poetry Blog

Trying to "unclutter" my main blog a little bit. Poetry goes here, dreams go at the dream blog, metapysical speculations go in the Gnosis blog, and my animals tell you about what evil they've done in their very own blog! Other stupidity that has no specific place goes in the main blog. Look at the links and find some fun things to do!
Peace,
The Cheesemeister