Welcome stranger, to the page where poems of the past lie. Feel free to take a look around.

---

(Return to the Olde Poems Page.)

---

Artist's Name: Andrew Starling
Artist's Elftown User Name: [Starna]
Poem Category: (To Make You Think...)
Poem's Title: Sifting Rubble
Poem:

I go with one objective: find the treasure
Traveling with a literal band of gold miners
All experienced; we know where find it
Yet we accept directions from the lost,
The deluded, the false-believers
Who stop at the first sparkle they see
And stay there forever
Tirelessly sifting through the pan
Analyzing and reanalyzing the rubble
In the fear that they missed one speck
All the while thinking they've struck gold
When it's as false as the fools who found it
They may be able to pawn it off
But not to us, the experienced

“Wait, Stop.
I swear to you it's not real.
Where are you going?
That stream's been panned out for months!”

Yet they still abandon the group.
Some continue the long trek up the mountain
To the mines where gold truly is...

“Treasure can be found here, at the bottom.
Why should we go all the way up?
The path is overgrown anyway;
I don't feel like making my own.”

The misguided are too persuasive,
And my companions too apt to believe.
It is possible they don't know,
Not even those who've been there for ages,
But it is more likely they are lonely;
Alone with their mistakes.
They strive to bring company;
To show them how rare their find is...
Every five feet along the stream...
It cannot be very valuable.
Everyone has a map to that stream,
And everyone has panned it

The few who clambered up come down.
All the rest have gone;
Left for home to sell their ‘gold'
Only to find out its true value,
Or lack thereof.
They'd started together so strongly,
Yet given up so quickly.
They gave up the dream so easily,
Unless, of course, they weren't meant for it.

“Personally, I am,
Although this is my first time.
I met the nicest lady;
She's taking me to the top.
Wait, where'd she go?
I don't see any trail!
Where am I?
Oh, hey!
There's a nice little stream…”

---

Artist's Name:kayne
Artist's Elftown User Name:[Kayne]
Poem Category: sad
Poem Status: Dueling
Poem's Title: Why you ?
Poem:

why you ?

I'm looking in the mirror
I see my hollow eyes
I'm thinking of you
WHY YOU ??
You showed you were happy
You weren't
BUT
If you weren't happy
neither am I

I'm looking at my broken heart
But in stead
I see my clothes
I'm thinking of you
Only you
you showed me the way
I'll follow you
There the knife
your end
there my knife
I look down
there the broken one

F*** YOU ALL

silence ...

---

Artist's Name: Lesa M. Pilgrim
Artist's Elftown User Name: [OvertheMoooon]
Poem Category: Fantasy
Poem's Title: Spirits
Poem:

Angels and demons and things unseen,
Fly around me in my world.
I hear them speak--what do they mean?
Won't they leave alone this little girl?

I run; they follow--faster faster.
It's so dark I can barely see.
I run through the forest--a big disaster.
What do they want from me?

I don't look down, and so I trip.
I yell, but no one seems to hear.
Fallen to the ground, I'm losing grip.
The spirits--still coming, I fear.

Trembling and writhing, I start to scream,
Only to find, it was all a dream.

---

Artist's Name: Louise Anne Pritchard
Artist's Elftown User Name: [Avarion]
Poem Category: Realistic
Poem's Title: Seven Years
Poem:
Father and mother; daughter in hiding,
Anger and fury and rage are binding,
Such vulgar words that reach her small ears;
Words that taint her purest seven years.

Daughter and mother; father is running,
Disbelief and shock are all too stunning,
Family life torn by a raven haired harlot;
Jane? Rebecca? Danielle? Charlotte?

There is no meaning in only a name,
To a shattered heart they are all the same,
Mother cries out, daughter stands by;
And has never once seen her sob or cry.

Step-father and mother; daughter is free,
From a broken home to a family of three,
Laughter and joy and constant smiles;
All living remnants of that seven year child.

---

Artist's Name: Evan Jensen
Artist's Elftown User Name: [eimhin]
Poem Category: Sad
Poem's Title: verse 2
Poem:

now all I can remember is her face
and eyes staring into mine
enfolding me in a love so fine
who's impression from my heart shall not be erased
a smile so quick it'd be missed
by most men not enlightened to its bliss
now mere memory, mangled and tangled in the vines of its own bitter fruits
hanging from the wounded shoots-
these branches of the tree love shook
pass your mind's eye downward along trunk and time
back to this flora's roots
shaken in their cling to the earth
but by the life-nurturing source
still fed, ahead, in years to come
(once upon a time, of course)
from the pleasant recollections of the mind/heart/soul/body embraced
in the flowering inferno that was undeniably unchaste
yet the ember warmth of this body-bliss fades
and now all I can remember is her face

---

(Return to the Olde Poems Page.)

---