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Lost Poetry

a topic in Poetry, a part of the RPG forum.

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For the assorted types of poetry.

Re: Lost Poetry

Tips: 0.00 INK Postby lostamongtrees on Tue Jul 18, 2023 1:38 pm

Foot With No Shoe


Where to put the foot with no shoe?

Dirt naked on the tars,
Leather scarred and worn.
It steps again,
Forward,
Intent against return.

But where to put the foot with no shoe?

Mud trails unbranded,
Tracks stranded, alone.
They stretch forever,
Backward;
Let the past roam.

Find a place to put the foot with no shoe.

Over coals, through cool water;
Unfaltering stride.
Pressing stronger,
Toward
The end of said line:

Somewhere to put the foot with no shoe.

In the darkest of corners
Where mourners can’t see,
Standing in wait;
Reward,
Traveler’s esprit.

A shoe to put on the foot with no shoe.
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lostamongtrees
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Re: Lost Poetry

Tips: 0.00 INK Postby lostamongtrees on Tue Jul 18, 2023 1:38 pm

If I were to reside in some paradise
I’d slip away and retreat
To a perching shack
On rocks blown slack;
A cabin by the sea.

Bless’d to breathe the exhale
From jade ocean unfair,
Gray skies spitting thunder to bald the cliff face,
For weather, no matter the storms or the fray,
Couldn’t ever condemn such a place.

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Re: Lost Poetry

Tips: 0.00 INK Postby lostamongtrees on Tue Jul 18, 2023 1:39 pm

Mother Maiden Crone : Ocean

Calm is she
Textured tweed
A rough blanket of ocean
Beneath us

Sized a toy
We
The least compared to she
Causing the most insignificant
Of wrinkles
Despite the way they crash.

Deep blue of she
Wise Seeming to hold no
Surprise
As we break her dark serene
With a child’s splash
Of white.

Do we push through her soft bed
Or does she pull us with a smile?
Undulations set
To conspire
With us
Until the twinkling in her eye
Promises turmoil

A practiced act
It will be she
Who fabricates the white
As we yearn
For her blue return

Ready again will she be
In due time
To cradle us
As the children we are
At sea
In she

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Re: Lost Poetry

Tips: 0.00 INK Postby Sigurd_Hring on Tue Oct 31, 2023 8:02 pm

Beautiful... Skál.

I very much enjoyed reading all of that. You are gifted. And although I didn't get to meet up with you after the chaos, nor did I ever receive those pictures we took, still I can taste the beer. How refreshing that was, that day I gifted you my enchanted armband from authentic horse skin. I can not think of a better person to gift such a little thing to, despite its hidden value and magical properties. I apologize sincerely for the days that followed, your unexpected injury, and for the time I have wasted since then. You have but tasted the hard life of a surviving and dying breed, and I am forever grateful for that hour we worked together in person. You are a light, a beacon, a hope in darkness, and your poetry is truly amazing. Thank you for sharing. Happy Halloween, woman in the orange dress.

Sincerely,

Sigurd the Ringtaker

P.S. - funny thing sometimes, the fates, and the gods. That same day we met, I found a trinket on the ground inside on the floor, at that very same store where you and I purchased beer. It was a silver four leaf clover necklace pendant. I kept it, and I still have it even to this day. So many people nowadays do not believe in luck, or fate, but I do. I am not disappointed in the least. May your gods, or goddesses, be with you always, and continue to inspire you. Truly you have tasted their elixir, and your words are echoes of the divine spirituality you hold within.
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