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| Song Beneath the EvergreenSong Beneath the Evergreen
Beneath the shade of the evergreen,
Lying broken and unseen,
A baby bird who fell from home,
Singing softly on its own.
Finding comfort in the song.
A song ---
--- as pure as she ---
--- beneath the Evergreen.
A tiny beak and trilling tongue,
Sings a song till now unsung,
Soft blue eyes gaze at the nest,
The song its last hope left.
A tune to make it strong,
Finding strength within the song.
A song ---
--- to make her free ---
--- beneath the Evergreen.
Its broken wings wont let it fly,
Yet still it tries,
Every note it dares to sing,
Helps it beat its battered wings.
It finds where it belongs,
A home within the song.
A song ---
--- joyfully serene ---
--- beneath the Evergreen.
Copyright 2006 Mark Krull
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| Is Blake dead?I've gotten a lot of messages similar to "where did you go?" and "more poetry please!"
So, call this a rap, or call it a poem if that makes you more comfortabe enjoying it. I don't care what you call it... just read it.
Blake Died in His Boots
I know I’m outa my game,
I'm not used to the same old same old games of the insane.
You been rappin and smackin your lips,
Just like this,
While I sit,
At my desk like the rest,
Penning poetical tricks.
With dillusions of grandeur,
Dreaming of fangirls,
Teaming and screaming and reaching for them,
But instead,
Like I'm a savior in their head,
They’re grabbing the hem,
Of my jeans in their dreams,
Finding hope in a gem,
Finding one just like them,
With a pen like the hand of an angel,
Free-for-view on demand,
A man in the wilderness lacking a band,
But still rocking the land,
With a sweep of his hand.
Poet’s are soldiers,
Holding composure,
Tracing lines with a rhyme that’s in time,
Not with beats from a drum but the signs of the times,
Giving site to the ones that were blind.
How can you abandon your roots?
Blake died in his boots,
After saying it clear to the ones who would hear,
As they’re turning their ear,
“A robin red breast in a cage,
Puts all heaven in a rage,”
So who would I be if I didn’t engage,
Leap up on the stage,
Dress for battle and wage,
With a word on a page,
Rob the devil’s prize,
Right from under his eyes,
And guide the angels back into the skies?
A poem,
A rap,
A hymn with a bat,
And a gat,
Held in reserve till the end of the world,
Bring it,
I sting like Mohammad Ali,
Float like a butterfly,
Hurt like a bee.
While with peace like a dove,
Showing love from above,
When the slap turns to shove,
And the sticks turn to stones,
I’ll be leaving my home,
With a cross by my heart,
And a sword that can part,
Spirit from bone,
I depart,
At the start,
And stand and defend till the end,
Of the world that was hurled by God till it twirls,
On an axis of pain,
Filled with shame,
Here I stand with a sword wreathed in flame,
And I plan to profane every name,
Made by men in the shadow of heaven,
Beware of the Pharisees leaven.
You hate who I am,
And the place where I stand,
But I smile at your plan,
And the swing of your hands,
I fall to the floor and you stomp on me more,
But with my last breath,
I’ll speak life into death,
Another poem will form,
And all be reborn,
A man can be torn,
But his words the mind can never ignore.
(c) 2006 Mark K.
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(For those of you who objected to the
content of my last poem, here is a slightly different [hehe] look at
the same issue. Hope you enjoy!)
Heaven and Earth
Hello Heaven, my name is Earth,
A twirling ball of colorless dirt,
Compared to you what is my worth?
I was already dead before my birth.
There's something here that wasn't before,
Dare I call it something more?
I pick my heart up off the floor,
Does Earth deserve the Heaven's adore?
Lost in space, this sphere will drown,
Heaven used to wear a crown,
Dancing in a radiant gown,
For me, she's laying it all down.
Don't taint you beauty with my pride,
How could you love my selfish eyes?
Do you think it's really wise?
Don't let Earth touch Heaven tonight.
Are you sure you want to sacrafice,
Yourself so you can offer me life?
Thank you! Thank you, Angel Eyes,
Now two as one in God, we'll rise.
Heaven and Earth will pass away,
But a piece of both will always stay,
I guess perfection includes both night and day,
Without winter what's the joy of May?
Heaven, watch me chained down here,
Hold me as I shake in fear,
Bathe my body with your tears,
Shine your smile that whispers in my ear.
Earth and Heaven just aren't the same,
This ugly difference love can tame,
So let yourself call out my name,
I'll try to keep you from my shame.
But forgive me, Angel, I can't fly,
So come down and stand here by my side,
Please humble yourself to be mine,
And turn my water into wine.
Piece of heaven, touch this clay,
Help me wash my filth away,
Never stop those things you say,
I'm begging you to stay today.
I'm nothing but a foolish man,
But Heaven's holding out her hand,
Offering Earth a place to stand,
By her side, I'll try to be all I can.
A girl, like Heaven looking down,
She's seeing heaven behind my frown,
Now I'm taking her out on the town,
Who knew Earth could be heaven to an angel now?
© 2005 Mark Krull
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| Mister Wrong
I am not the one,
Who was ever made for love.
But yet I am not above,
This pathetic human drug.
Some part of me still longs,
For Affection's torture tongs.
Despite love's weakness I am strong,
This is the life of Mister Wrong.
If I am meant for lonliness,
Why does my heart still beat like this?
Love's longing is a thorn,
For those merely meant to mourn.
My eyes are faded,
I may seem jaded,
This is the result of life,
Mister wrong was made for strife.
Lovers have rejected me,
But I am my own worst enemy.
I've abandoned myself as well,
I have danced my way to hell.
May I castrate my heart from me?
Only the eunuch of love is truly free.
Turn away and stay away,
If you love me keep the words at bay.
Loving me will merely hurt you,
Though that's the last thing I would wish to do.
Mrs. Right shouldn't throw herself away,
To the Mister Wrong she knows today.
I am not right for anyone,
For any girl under the sun.
I wish I was allowed to feel,
At least a hint of something real.
Something that might dare to last,
And not fly out of my grasp.
Nothingness can be a home,
To those who have been left alone.
Not everyone is meant to be,
This worthless thing that we call "happy".
Mister Wrong is looking down,
At the lovers in his town.
His jealously's still burning,
While his heart is hurting.
Yet he still rejects the call,
To love's alluring pitfall.
His human heart's still in his chest,
His human soul will never rest.
Lover, pity Mr. Wrong,
Mrs. Right, just run along.
Wedding singer sing your song,
But not for Mister Wrong.
© 2005 Mark Krull | | |
| A Voice for the Lonely Mime
All the leaves on maple trees,
Fall away to Autumn's breeze.
All the rain falls down today,
The skies have turned to gray.
So I cry with upturned eyes,
My tears mingle with the sky's.
Soon the day will pass away,
While I wonder what remains.
I have chased through my disgrace,
After dreams of lovely lace.
For a time of happy rhymes,
A voice for the lonely mime.
I would speak the words I think,
If I were anything but weak.
My song would share of angel's hair,
If dreams were not so hard to bear.
All of me wants to speak freely,
But silence comes so easily.
What is so wrong with the words to the song,
That I've been mouthing all along?
Would it be a sin if I were to win,
And for once smile within?
God can You see all that I do,
All the times I dissapoint you.
Can You see all my shattered dreams,
Do you hear me when I scream?
Reach from above to give this mime a hug,
And let him finally sing of love.
© 2005
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