Young Writers Society

0. Counterparts



~ ~ ~

Note: Using an image format is how I got around indents not carrying over to YWS and the place I crosspost two automatically pastes large blocks of text as images so I just pinched the url for that.

1. Migratory Patterns and Nestless Settlers
they flock to the city like birds
to the pools of stench and shadows
hunched and curled in far-off corners
faceless figures left unremembered
by the passing thousands that flock
from the city like birds
to the comforting shadows
of Anywhere But Here

and when the shadows wake
the birds
flock again in passing
to a place that isn't home

2. i call it a house; they make it a home
this house is filled with a hum
of unhushed whispers
and drumming fingers
that tap.tap.tap
on walls and desks and the air
itself - alive
with the sound of life itself

=D This is going to be a really really fun month. I'm enjoying your voice and flow in your poems a lot! Keep it up!

3. neither but not yet otherwise
untried and untested
a first prototype built upon post-it notes and passing
observations that flitter between the stacks
of hypothesis and hypothesis - each scribbled out so neatly
and cleanly replaced with something else that still
doesn't quite make the fit

a multiple choice
questionnaire - box A - box B - pick either
but neither fits the question
at all and you review the observations
(where the columns are blank) and you try
to rewrite the question - the answer
is still the same did I tell you

there is no answer yet.

the prototype goes back for review
and this time
you print the answers by the checkbox
in bold bluntness - 'let me tell you
a secret' - both boxes
(maybe)
but the checkboxes remain unchecked

untried and untested
still - you draw your conclusion
in black scribble besides
the hypothesis and the question
the answer and the checkbox (unchecked)

'neither but not yet otherwise'

your theory is denied
for peer review

>> Where's the fourth?

4. Shadowsong
This morning I woke to find quite clearly
In bitter frost my shadow dearly
Had wandered far beyond my sight
And sallow I was upon my fright

For darkness still lingered on mornings edge
And call thricely I did but my shadow had fled
Now greatly I feared for its safety's sake
As sunrise calls for the monster's wake

High and low for my shadow I scoured
Across the lands to discover quite sour
A shadow mangled and lost of its head
O! to my misfortune my shadow was dead

So wander I did across the morning
Ill as dogs upon their mourning
For shadowless now how one can see
I'm half the man that I used to be

~ ~ ~

The fourth was off napping alongside me on the train. But now that I'm awake and home the fifth shall come shortly.

5. Sights Along The Hawkesbury #1
out along the grey river sheen
where sun brushes atop the dewy green
and sets (upon the impending night)
the canopies aflame in pools of light

and stretched along limbs of great gum
creeping vines bask beneath the sun
clung tightly upon thick bark and branch
where rivulets of light flitter and dance

below the green upon the rock
soft shadows then form a ticking clock
turning time with falling light
to wish the forest a fair good night

~ ~ ~

This is me doing the second week's Buddy Up Challenge, taking Aley's forest theme from this poem.

6. A Grey Portrait for a Grey Morning
birds gather in the foreground
like dark splatters of paint
against a background of icy grey
and i notice how the cold clings
to my chest and squeezes
out my breaths. i do wonder
if those birds think the same

does the sky weigh down
upon them in it's emptiness
like a heaviness that presses
as the cold does - a breathless
respiteless quiet death
of falling to the pressure
of the clouded atmosphere

and those birds they swoop and roll
upon the breeze with an ease
that tells me - no the birds
they do not think the same
the chill and the sky
how it still leaves them free
not earthbound like me

7. i don't know the words but i'll hum along
wake to the morning blank and bitter the world
spinning three steps short of nausea
and you stumble over - a hunchback apparition
to the portal between your hopes and waking

checklist your way through the morning
in a routine so routine you
barely remember walking out the door
and there's only one thing that sticks

to your tongue and your memories
a goodbye so sorrowful it fills
your chest like gasoline and sinks
like this is the last goodbye

you never wished to give
and it lingers

through two hours of a train
that groans and cracks between rivers
of parting green and the kind of darkness
that plagues the sleep still unclaimed

and now there's a tune buzzing along
in the foreground upon
its merry old way - there's familiarity
between the beats but there's something

missing. the words curl
somewhere not quite here and you hum
timid and hoarse but it's enough
to get you through the tune

and the day - it reminds you
of the morning and life
and all the missing pieces just out of reach
so when the sun falls and you fall with it

you feel as though you've learnt
nothing yet

A Brief Revision of Your Human Condition

~ ~ ~

This is a response to a poem I read over at /r/OCPoetry that drew quite a reaction from me. I won’t link the thread itself for politeness sake but for those who really want to check it out, the title is A Brief HIstory of Human Condition. A reminder that downvotes on reddit are used to moderate spam and irrelevant content, not to express dislike or disagreement with the post’s content.

9. everyone wants a piece of something
i see them upon their stage - a proud display
on offer by the pound
souls sold for a piece
of cash or fame or
happiness? is not
the currency on offer - there is only

the lies and the struggle
for a piece of something
more often than not
worth nothing

so they sell their friends instead

Use Protection Kiddos
Of liquid heat
and icy stone.
In boiling blood
and freezing bones.

But rise the day
and fall the night
to walls of heat
and seeping ice.

Yet all discerned
of that above -
I never learnt
to wear my gloves.

11. escalation
this time it could be the last time
and yet my goodbye was soft - my
touch fleeting and i didn't
tell you i love you more
than a mother or a brother - i
didn't couldn't hold you close enough
and now you're slipping-
slipping
slipping from my grasp if
i hold on
will you hold on too