PICTURES AT AN EXHIBITION
THE WITCHES HUT ON FOWL’S LEGS
A warm late summer shower
Drums upon my reflection on the window pane,
While seeking that solace found in wondering,
Placed alone in the woods, itches within.
The next morning breaks and finds horse and rider
Driven deep into noon wood.
Remembering friends at rock-clad stream
Where young, fresh hours rushed.
But deeper now where youth dare not,
Where hoof print never strove.
Ellipse upon a nightmare scene,
Frightful, yet somehow enchanting.
Horse, sensing danger, holds the pace.
But my adventurer’s spirit spurs me on.
In clearing (surrounded by a fence made of human bones topped with skulls) there sits a stilted hut,
Small, of strange design.
The stilts are legs of something fowl.
While the walls appear to be a clock.
A deafening roar proclaims the hour
As dreadful voice is heard:
“Who dare disturb my slumbering nest?
I chose no one to be my guest.
Harshly now yes I shall deal
With this intruder, he’ll be my meal!”
Shrill voice rushes fear to heart.
Run legs, take your leave.
If my horse could match my heartbeat pace
We would outrun this terror.
The trees reach out, conceal my path.
The ground is none but bog.
The lovely chorus of singing birds
Becomes a terrifying shriek.
Confusion reigns in every corner.
Sweat beads blast free on face.
Witch laugh becomes the only sound
As hellish voice returns:
“There is no place where you could hide
To escape Baba Yaga’s all-seeing eye.
So for now I think I’ll play
A little game with my dinner prey!” (Ha! Ha! Ha! Ha!)
Serene, quite calm, now are the woods.
Fresh flowered scents float the air.
Familiar call of whippoorwill
Reverberates ‘cross sun-streaked glen.
What had happened?
Had I dreamed?
Is my mind but playing tricks?
It seemed so real.
I feared my life.
I think I’ll leave this place.
Now what was that?
Just a cracking stick.
I seem to fear my shadow.
This place appears calm
But eerie feeling
Will not shake from my bones.
The woods are closing in
Deeper, still.
A chilling fog surrounds me.
Eyes, eyes, stare at me
From everywhere.
What is this? What? I . . .
“This is time for the game to end
As armed with fear I now descend!”
Streak lightening crashes tree ‘cross path.
Confusing rain breeds steam!
Anger dominates the sky
As bolt and roll and cloudrush!
My path is lost to brier patch
Of stabbing branch and skin break.
Darkness closes, dominates eyes.
Noise bleeds in my ears!
Circular path leads to clinging mud
Where well-laid trap now captures.
Breath is lost to fleeting gasp.
All strength to move is drained.
Mind reaches for its’ sanity.
Hope dissipated from heart.
“Take me now, you cursed witch
For hell would be more sweet!
Release me from this wretched world.
Let me find my peace!”
Swirling mist now chokes the air.
Prepared am I for end.
Black witch shroud sweeps darkness o’er
As symphony stings death!
THE GREAT GATE OF KIEV
Glory! Glory! Glory!
Sunbeams streak through arches high.
This stunning structure wrought by man
Wrestles with the sky!
Glory! Glory! Glory!
This must have been God’s plan.
The majesty of heaven itself
Is captured, now in hand.
Glory! Glory! Glory!
Ah! What a wondrous sight.
Men gazing upon its’ beauty would be
Like statues, awe-strickened with fright.
But it’s only a dream
A mere illusion
A portrait of my imagination
Which exists in my mind
A product of thought
An unrealized hope of one man.
As knight errant I stand over this city fair
Armed only with paper and pen.
From which springs a design for a memorial gate
The likes of which never has been
Yes, there it would stand, if just in my mind
An image that only I can see.
Try all to picture this monument tall
The eighth wonder on Earth it would be!
Glory! Glory! Glory!
Stone piled atop of each stone.
Rising from ashes like Phoenix from fire.
In bare field one flower grown!
But these are just dreams which exist
Only in the lonely depths of my mind.
My hopes of seeing this structure so grand
Are like wishing for sight once you’re blind.
Yes, dreams are like spring-born birds
Which fly off into Autumn skies of gray.
Though we desire that they’d never leave,
Always, they just fade away.
But wait; there are times, yes miracles when
Blind men are able to see!
And birds migrate home. And dreams,
Dreams
They can come true.
Ah! Wonders of hope could it be?!
Could It Be?!
Glory! Glory! Glory!
My wondrous dream has been found!
Head held so high! Kissing the clouds!
Feet firmly anchored to ground.
No price can be set on the worth
Of seeing this crown placed now so right
As headdress of Queen Mother Earth!
Rub my eyes . . . Can it be?
Pinch my arm . . . Is it dreamed?
It can be.
It’s not dreamed.
It’s TRUE!
Ah, wonders of hope
It Is TRUE!
Glory! Glory! Glory!
In existence, such power, so grand!
Every detail of my mind’s wandering eye
Here now, forever, shall stand!
So i was thinking randomly looking through ET and i cam to one conclusion and one thing to say to everyone,
STOP BEING EMO, THERES NO NEED, i mean and its one thing to be depressed, but come on that doesn't mean everyone hasn't felt the same way at some point so why do you have to be the special one that says "i cant live because I'm that hard core" no that's stupid your just looking for the attention and you know what THATS WHAT FRIENDS ARE FOR, so putting stuff in your diaries is one thin but i mean come on making your profile all dark and tormenty just because some dude from nowhere land broke up with you is no reason to go all suicidal on us.. and i say us because its probably a really good mind getting away from the universe a cataclysmic boom of stupidity so shut up ... get over yourself... and go outside and play catch or catch fireflies or jump out of a tree into a pool and make a big splash getting that really hot chick next door all whet when shes wearing a see through shirt and... sorry but you get the point STOP CRYING ABOUT YOUR LIFE IT COULD ALWAYS BE WORSE... {this wasn't aimed at any one i know just I'm tired of these emo kids on the Internet}