Frosty Ember Spirits

This is just a poem that I wrote yesterday after my friend inspired me.  We were walking through the snow and she pointed out that the snowflakes looked like fireflies when they passed through the light.  So, I cranked this out... not the best, but it was fast.

The night was dark, winds sharp and cold

my visage that of someone old

exhausted by the haunt of life

the endless war of pointless strife

and so I trudged with downheld gaze

and waited for the end of days

but when my gaze rose off the ground

I stopped, fixation skyward bound

as feathery snowflakes passed me by

darting through the velvet sky

but when through lamplight floating flew

transmogrified to something new

for when I blinked, my opened eyes

beheld a swarm of fireflies

a merry lot, they spent the night

dancing through the lambent light

but when the sun peeped forth its rays

the ember spirits lit away

my flying friends, turned gold and red

spun and into heaven fled

and as the peach sky faded blue

I heard them bid a soft adieu

and promise that the next dark night

where snowflakes met the gold lamplight

they would return to speak to me

to dance and play and make me free.

Less Clutter for the Desk

Hello, anyone who's still listening.  I've recently discovered the wonders of Fanfiction.net.  I've decided to leave up the posts that I have now, but any other fan-related writing I do will wind up here.  It makes more sense than the blog.  I'll save this desk space for poetry and rantings, and perhaps I'll try movie reviews.  Is anyone else is rereading The Hobbit before December 14th?

To give this post more of a point, I'll throw out a poem that I spontaneously composed a couple days ago.

Rotations

Warm bed, alarm beep,
hello cold and goodbye sleep.
Cereal gets soggy wet
talk and eat and browse the net.
Lecture, notes, review, test, 
sleepy eyes in need of rest.
Strings, bow, squeaking notes,
frigid air, tight-drawn coats.
Read and notes and notes again,
messy writing, pencil, pen.
Early morning, swimming head,
lose the pen and drop to bed.
Darkness, silence, sudden snore,
few hours rest to rise once more.

Anyway, now that I'm on break, I might be using my blog more.  Tot ziens!

More Clutter for the Desk

New stuff that would litter my desk if I had one--and so will now litter the blog.  Every once in a while I will write poetry, especially when I'm inspired by my friend Claire (she runs the blog Quilt of Dragonflies).  This is basically a disassembled puzzle; just a jumble of thoughts that haven't been put together--not a completed poem yet. But I thought I'd post it anyway. 

Perhaps it's not as fandom-y or geek-y, but I've got other stuff in the works.

A crystal clear
spatter pattering
accompanied by the smell of
cool freshness.
Then spray, on my face,
making me blink.
Streams
disturbed from above
rippling, roiling, rolling
like a flat river of diamonds
cascading down the street;
swirling at the gutter, smoothing into
water-maid's silk.
Undeterred--
bells, clanging, and
the train wheels
chunk-ka-thunking
over the tracks.
A faint rushing
turns to gushing
turns to splash-and-whine-and-roar-and hum
and then the headlights go by
and the sound fades
and so do the bells.
Red brick and white spires
blurred by a shimmering pearly curtain
that bunches, then thins, then
is swept away.
Upside down black bowls bobbing by
breathing rapid and agitated.
A gradient grey canvas
marble fading to concrete
hovering despondently, watching quietly,
laying a cool towel over the world.
Again, the spray,
and the rush of air, bringing hints of
woodland
and autumn
and school
and petrichor.
Black vines stretch
side to side
bellies dotted with lines of bright glassy beads
clinging there
until one swells
and trembles
and falls
and shatters on the pavement below.


 Basically, this was just a list of observations that I made when I was looking out my window.  I noticed that when I'm just writing, I tend to be more straightforward, without much embellishment.  Maybe this is where it goes?  Anyway.  Yeah.