Lord of the Rings Fanatics Plaza

Well met, fellow poets and friends! Poetry in the woods is alive once more. Here is the first poem from my poetry book Coastal Isle.

I'll be using this thread to share some poems and perhaps workshop some unpolished pieces. If you wish to leave me some feedback, please do so! I'd very much appreciate it.

Thank you for stopping by my neck of the woods.

Melahny, congratulations on your book! Your piece is very evocative: you paint a vivid picture of both scenery and emotions. And whilst there seems to be love, there’s also melancholy: it is set in the past, the speaker is a lonesome ghost, “my heart ached like a heavy rope” - which is a really powerful image because it immediately evokes a tug of war, or hauling on something like a ship to drag it in (because of the beach imagery), and it’s heavy, so it’s hard to keep hold of. Beautiful words and I look forward to more!

@Silky Gooseness Thank you for stopping by and offering your feedback ! I really appreciate your insights, and I'm glad you enjoyed the imagery.

There will be more to come... soon(ish).

I will echo Sil and say congratulations on your book! I'll pop it in the wish list for when I get a better tablet. The images of your really bring me back. Despite not having been anywhere near the sea at all in years, all your colorful descriptions and smells and sensations brought the feelings all back. A semi tropical beach is the last place I'd expect to find shades of gothic horror but you meld the scenery with the scene so well it took me a second read to see the two different sides. I found it all quite lovely and evocative!

Thanks so much @Metatron Omega! I like your interpretation and reactions to it.

I definitely want to write more poems with this kind of evocative imagery. I think a lot of the stuff I write tends to be more telling than showing... So the goal is to work on more image poems. Although, I do enjoy reading both telly and showy poetry...

*New poem, for the Plaza art competition.


The Search for an Endless Summer

I grew up in the country
Learned to drive in the city
Where gasoline hung hot in the air like a permanent perfume,
Made me long for a lakeshore view.

*This is a song lyric I wrote a long time ago.

Thank you @Aikári Salmarinian for stopping by!! Yes, I have a book called Coastal Isle. I'll see if I can post the whole book on here-- I only have it on Amazon at the moment. I'm sure I can download it as pdf or something for any who may be interested.

The Forbidden Place

The cats eye the dim doorway
to the single spare bedroom,
they’re not allowed in.
The congregation— conspiring horde,
plotting to storm the gates.
There’s old furniture in the room,
it can’t be scratched by anxious claws, waiting...

The elderly black and white cat
makes her move—
quickly,
out of nowhere
she dashes under the antique couch.
The humans try to coax her out

hissssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssss
no!

The humans sigh,
try to shoo her out
she’s cornered now.
So she makes a run for it,
tail high, a proud strut
she did what the others couldn’t do,
once more unto the breach!
They cheer, impressed.

They stare,
waiting quietly in the dark
orange and green orbs gleaming
in the shadow half-light.
Ready...
ready to spring into action!
Ready to explore the Forbidden Place,
for no reason.

My Poems are Scattered Everywhere

My poems are scattered everywhere—
little pieces of me
in the air
on the ground
in the river
in the lake
in the sand.

Words torn from me,
my poems are scattered
along the beach
around Grand Bend
and along the Thames
through corn fields and
my old apartment,
dog hair in the ruined carpets.

My poems are scattered everywhere,
little pieces of me
floating
through the air.

The summers of old must have been some technicolour dream

The summers of old must have been some technicolour dream
The purple sunset mountain peaks, the rolling fields of green.
In Hobbiton, with fireworks and rings of pipe-smoke,
in the Elvenwood with starlit nights under bough and branch.
When horse lords roamed the plains,
and clean food grew up from the earth.

@Aikári Salmarinian Thank you! Yes, cats are so funny. This poem was from when I was living with six cats in the house!

I really liked “My poems are scattered everywhere” - leaving little pieces of you, and your art, everywhere you go (and cyclically, your poems - this poem - is also drawn from all those places you describe, in a sort of poetry-osmosis). Whimsical and thought-provoking: you affect everywhere you’ve been, and it does the same to you

Thank you @Silky Gooseness!! Funnily, I wrote many different versions of this poem, a long time ago and also in more recent years. Not sure where all the other versions are-- scattered to the wind (or usb drives, more likely)

Dumenelion bows to Melahmy...
Well done on getting a book published.
It is some time since last I raised an osprey quill on any kind of parchment but I meander in thought. I was looking for a large tome entitled, MMPP...otherwise known as Music, Magic, Poetry and Prose. It is blue in colour with silver symbols, mayhap it is invisible as those tricksy Istari like to hide their hidden knowledge...
Dumenelion winks

@Dumenelion Thanks !

haha I'll keep an eye out for this mysterious tome

Roaming

Let us go a roamin’ roamin’
Into Fairy Green
Let us go a roamin’ roamin’
Into Marchenwald
And let us go a rovin’ rovin’
Across the plains to sea.

Let us go to Eldermar
Where Elvenlords once landed
And let us go a sailin’ sailin’
To far lands of Elvenkind,
Where unicorns and dragons
Create spells with their minds.
Oh! Eldermar held many secrets,
And these are just a few
So let us go a roamin’ roamin’
Across the sea and out of view.

Checking in to read your poems again, @Melahny_oftheWoods .

Thanks for dropping by @Pele Alarion! :)

Into the Green World

Into the green world,
fast and far from cars
that scream, stream, the glass eye
of a fish that drank too much carbon
take me for a ride.

Into a world that is just fine; cliff-side, falling
down
down
down.

Caved-in and carved like the face of some
bestial being—ancient, supreme, beyond comprehension.

And before that jarred end the grass is wild and weedy
pussy willow, dandelion, milkweed, and wild daisy.
The house is a tree fort, under the conifers there is space
to lie in mud, caked into footprints like giant impressions.

The skybeaks, they circle soft-beaten paths with earthly,
moss-ridden smells, that make landing pads for butterflies
and other kinds of creatures that see you and know you as
you go
down
down
down

Into the green world.

If I was a Butterfly

If I was a butterfly, delicate and
transformed into sightless beauty, I
wish I was a butterfly

Oh, wish I was a butterfly
The butterfly holds no wish to
surrender her beauty nor her
flights of fancy; no, the butterfly
she does not dream, for she lives her dreams
in the open air,
whimsically, she breathes in each moment
for she knows
she spent too long dreaming in the cocoon,
too long yearning for that dangerous freedom, flight.

As a caterpillar she inched slowly along the base of sunflowers,
fed her squishy belly on fresh, sprigly, green-scented dill
she ate the leaves of dandelions and little purple flowers
her wings cut through the air like circles, like yarn,
twisting and spinning endlessly.

Oh, if I was a butterfly, I’d be
out of these chrysalis dreams
I’d be flying whimsically
with butterfly logic, moth-eyes,
paperback wings
I’d have seen
myself in a shell
and broken free.

Time would stand still into
segments of milkweed and migration.
To be a butterfly is to be two things:
what once was and what is.

The caterpillar and the butterfly,
two separate beings?
Or two sides of the same leaf?

If I was a butterfly, delicate and
transformed into sightless beauty, I
wish I was a butterfly, oh
wish I was a butterfly.

Joan Baez in the Parking Lot

Don’t say you can’t see me
I’m in a fluorescent pink rain jacket
I’m not shoplifting
I’m just running round the market

I’m in a fluorescent pink rain jacket
Listening to Joan Baez in the car
I’m just running round the market
Diamonds and Rust in the parking lot

Listening to Joan Baez in the car
Nobody dreams like I do
Diamonds and Rust in the parking lot
Half my life spent in fantasy

Nobody dreams like I do
I’m not shoplifting
Half my life spent in fantasy
Don’t say you can’t see me.

Congratulations on your book, Melahny! I enjoy reading your poems out loud. Joan Baez in the Parking Lot also drew me in to read more.
Diamonds and Rust is one of my favorite songs ever.

I hope you share more of your uplifting poetry soon.

@Drifa thank you so much! I will be posting more for sure, and recording more poetry for my soundcloud.

Diamonds & Rust is also one of my favourite songs. Joan has such a beautiful, captivating voice and great lyrics. She is very inspiring.

Thank you Aiks! I also have a recording of the Butterfly poem on my soundcloud if you are interested in spoken word stuff.

It's here: https://soundcloud.com/megan-may1

I'm working on adding more too. The recording quality is not great but I will eventually get better equipment and rerecord the vocals so I'm sorry about the static.

The link is also on my first post in this thread.

Aww I'm so happy you liked the poems Aiks! Thank you I really appreciate you taking the time to listen as I worked hard on those! I'm currently working on more as well--I want to do a full album to go alongside my book. I'll post here with updates too.

PS: If you enjoy the spoken word stuff, I could give you some recommendations of other poets too.

@Aikári Salmarinian Lana Del Rey has a nice book of poetry as well as a spoken word album called 'Violet bent backwards over the grass.' I also love Jim Morrison's stuff.

@Aikári Salmarinian You're welcome. Yes I love her music too, it is beautiful, her voice is so lovely. :D

Summer Wine
(a poem composed mostly of song titles)

I want you
some velvet morning
tell me why
sun king, sweet goodbye
handle me with care
beautiful boy

the crystal ship
goes out to port
I wonder why
summer wine
summer wine.

Ocean Sublime

Ocean sublime
take me back in time
to a place
before the human race
where I’m the only one.

I want to see the full beauty
of Earth in all her majesty
before the toxins and metal cities
before pavement and concrete,
noisy cars and large factories.

Ocean sublime
take me back in time
when oceans thrived
and creatures roamed freely
in the deep dark sea
let them be.

Take me too
true blue
often heard
never seen
baby dolphins swim in threes.

Ocean sublime,
are we out of time?
Whale song
let us sing
through the water,
you and me.

Thank you. I might create more little collage poems or whatever you'd call them. I think incorporating random street names might be cool too. We'll see.

And, both! Whales, dolphins, fishes, water, sand. Haha. I agree, I love swimming. Though I've never been to the ocean, only lakes. It's my dream to swim in the sea.

I love your nature poems, Melahny! A real sweetness and longing and simplicity sit within them. I wish the ocean did have time travel ability - and perhaps it does in a sense, the deep darks untouched by humanity. There’s a potential horror story in there… but you’ve made it beautiful.

@Silky Gooseness Wow thank you very much for the lovely feedback! I agree, the ocean is terrifying but also beautiful, wondrous.

Beautiful, evocative verses! I remember how terrified I was the first time I saw the ocean, yet now I miss that salt-water smell laced with eucalyptus that reminds me of the special months I spent living beside the sea in Northern California.

Thank you @Morfindel! Ah, how amazing that must have been.

Better For You

A Lyrical Poem

I wanted to start a band called
Coastal Isle
Shout my words to the heavens on an island, dreaming
Of a better past
Of happiness that lasts.

I wanted to sing it
But the words sounded stupid aloud
Now I'm still stuck here, dreaming
Of a better past.

It's impossible to attain
Impossible to fix...

You know what it's like--
Feeling so dredged up from the waters like a drowned ghost
Letter in your hand that he wrote
telling you not to misunderstand but to know him better
and you come home to the warm light of the fireplace
at the end of a dark, dismal day
to a hot blueberry tea in a cold mug;
turn on the heat, put your fluffy slippers on your feet
and cry under the blanket for a little while,
until you get tired and sink into a daydream
where you have a time machine
and you can make it better.

But you got stuck in those pointless thought experiments
Dwelling, dwelling, dwelling on it
Like you're not supposed to...

But I hope it gets better for you
I hope it gets better in time
I hope it gets better.

Sometimes, in time things get worse
and long, forgotten trauma is unearthed.

But I hope,
I really hope
I hope it gets better for you.

Hoi @Melahny_oftheWoods - thank you for that. Yeah, I know what its like! You hit a load of emotional nails bang on the head. I especially love the beginning. The whole is so sad. But we will build our own time machine! Patience, blueberry tea, and daydreams will just have to supply all our needs in the meanwhile.

@Chrysophylax DivesAww thank you too. Of late, I've found it so difficult not to dwell on regrets. How can we move forward when all we want to do is change the past? That is the conundrum, I suppose. Once you get that time machine working let me know! XD

@Aikári SalmarinianThanks for reading! :D

Heartache

Heartache
Sensation of the heart pulled by a string
It’s aching.
Horribly cliche
Don’t want to sound like a melodrama
Don’t want to find out these trees are hollow.
This forest used to give such comfort
Now uniform houses line it.
There are streets where robins once played,
Pavement where seeds were planted, not to grow
Where sod is set down in structured rows.
Tacky fences now lurk
Where willow and friend, the great oak
did stand; towering structure
Great beauty inert
Wood for the pressboard
Taken scenes from the backyard
Heartache replays.