SH Poetry Corner

The Cruelty of Crowds

In solitude he sat on a window sill,
He had never felt so utterly lost.
Through misty windows, he mused, until -
A clock chime reminded him of the cost.

That he had loved, he had loved in ritual,
The baying of mobs was always too loud;
The tenderness of an individual,
Hidden from the cruelty of the crowd.

Believing in his orientation,
He was the one that would always suffer.
A Quentin Crisp in an alien nation;
Tender loving for his sexual buffer.

Beaten and bloody by a phobic mewl:
In dim alleyways he fearfully cowed,
The tenderness of an individual,
Hidden from the cruelty of the crowd.

Poem Notes:
'The Cruelty Of Crowds' addresses the bigotry and hatred that is homophobia. One does not need to be a homosexual to be able to speak out against the injustice of condemning someone for their sexuality. In a free and tolerant society a man should be able to be what he wants to be without fear of prejudice or persecution.

In the poem I have attempted to show the isolation of those that are perceived as 'different' from the rest of society when, in fact, they simply have different views and beliefs. The reference to tenderness is intended to remind that we all have feelings that can be extremely fragile at times.

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The Smell of the Night

I stood on the outside, as one is want,
Succulent fragances in elegant repose.
I cared, nor did I feel, a need to know,
As I pleasurely gave way to the smell of the night.

Ghostlike reflections on shimmering coins,
That sway in the gentle breeze that abounds.
Reminding me that in the most peculiar of ways,
Nature is working by the glow of moonlight.

Breathing, as it seemed, my senses felt alive;
A freshness, I haven't known in any other place.
I stood and watched the stars seek to remind,
That they purify and cleanse the smell of the day.

Boiling sounds, that companioned this aroma,
Of furious machines on concrete veins,
That meant nothing to me, as in my distraction,
I selfishly succumbed to the smell of the night.

Poem Notes:
As I stood in the garden smoking a cigarette late one evening I noticed a smell that I had never sensed before. It permeated the air like a thick blanket, assailing my nostrils with a freshness, a real feeling of being alive and in tune with my surroundings.

It was almost as if nature herself was trying to communicate with me on a personal level. The smell was free of the odour of the day, there were no car fumes present, no smell of cooking from neighbouring houses, just a sweet, clear and fresh smell that must have been so commonplace before the mass industrialisation of our planet - how I envy those that had the good fortune to smell this smell every day of their lives.

[xx

Last edited by on 18th Dec 2005 - 12:25am; edited 1 time in total

Thought I would write a quick poem dedicated to andy the fireman (and his harem)

There was a man called andy
Who made all the sh girls randy
He said he fought fires
But we all now hes a liar
So now his id should be andypandy

Nigel

friday,the last shot in the bottle,
nothing happened to excite my mind,
the world is an amazing place,
i hope to amaze the world

[xx

Last edited by on 18th Dec 2005 - 12:27am; edited 1 time in total

My winged horse, my friend, my confidant...
Flying over ground and fence,
Another silver cup for the collection.
Several years later.......
Resting in the green fields,
Our triumphs a distant memory.
And one day, you're gone.
I'm left with your body.......
Your soul flys free once more...
Fast and brave... like you used to be....


equi-princess xxx

Ari.... its been 3 yrs... i miss you more now than ever................

xxx

Last edited by on 18th Dec 2005 - 12:28am; edited 1 time in total

Posted in the wrong place. Can a Kind Mod please move it on.

Thanks phredd.

that is so moving...and i'm finding it hard to choke back the tears...very thought provoking.