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by The Haughty Idiot of Guess and Check. . 88 reads.

[EDN] Awareness: A Trio of Poems

Everyday News Article

Awareness: A Trio of Poems
By: Kron, Guest Poet
Note: If the poems look disjointed or have double spaces, click here for a version with no format (especially if you're on mobile).

Currants

Slow flowed the flow,
Like honey dripped on the vine.
Vine of pleasure, vine of fate.
Come meet me with your dripping taste.

Pleasure gained not from little,
But from much.
Even as pains ache in the mean
We still have those spikes of pleasure.
Those spikes against Ďfateí.

Carried away on a stream of love,
Let us go meet this fate.
Fate? No
Not so bleak.

Dive into this current,
With all its sour, all its sweet
And turn against fate.

Fate is final they oft so say,
This is anything else.
Choices made along this current,
Turning it sour or sweet.

Dive into this current,
Overpower that sour
Overpower it with sweet.

Like the currant on the vine,
Sour heightens the sweet.

Such a current oft termed fate,
Yet leaving all out,
No currants gone in this current,
Just fate.

I ask ye all,
Do you taste the currant?
Or just the current?

To deny the determined,
That is this current.
Turning lime to currant:
The opposite of Ďfateí.

Through and Through

From which whence place do you expect me to go?
From which high hole do you tell me so?
Your high horse must look great from up there,
It looks even better from down here.

Tell me the last criticism you took so,
And tell me the last one you didnít give - oh
Is there none to think of, oh?

Do you take pride?
Do you smirk?

Of course you do
May be unbeknownst to you
But trust us itís true.
Fall foul of a few of your sins we do
In telling this to you,
But even so, we must through and through;
It is the least we can do,
Iím afraid there is no way else to tell you,
And I fear there is no recourse too.

And so we sit, me and you
Beneath the ceiling, in this room.
What criticism you have to give?
Of me, myself and I, of this poetry, of the sky?
Despite it all, through and through, I wonít change and neither will you.

Simply Be

Once upon this Summer year,
In this hell, in this fear.

Gaze upon your own demise,
In the sky, in your eyes.

Watch the cracks form lengthwise,
Across the mirror wall, across your lies.

In its place pray they donít see,
See your face, see you and me.

The walls once built upon so high,
Gone now, gone long, gone with a cry.

Ye who said that to wait was best.
Ye who took that with no contest:

Once upon this Winter night,
Can you say you won your plight?

Or is that why cracks form all-around
Across the sky, across the ground.

Centring upon ye:
Ye and your frayed psyche.

Where is one to go next?
Traipse along this trail, with no quest?

No! take upon the road ahead.
Donít dare leave this path, donít be led
Into nothingness, into insanity
Where you once laid your head.

Walk into day, away from night,
What do you have to fear from memories of light?

Even if not yourself,
Youíll cherish those memories for when you are:
For when you, and all around ye can simply be.


Currants

Side 1

Slow flowed the flow,
Like honey dripped on the vine.
Vine of pleasure, vine of fate.
Come meet me with your dripping taste.

Carried away on a stream of love,
Let us go meet this fate.
Fate? No
Not so bleak.

Fate is final they oft so say,
This is anything else.
Choices made along this current,
Turning it sour or sweet.

Such a current oft termed fate,
Yet leaving all out,
No currants gone in this current,
Just fate.

To deny the determined,
That is this current.
Turning lime to currant:
The opposite of Ďfateí.

Side 2

Pleasure gained not from little,
But from much.
Even as pains ache in the mean
We still have those spikes of pleasure.
Those spikes against Ďfateí.

Dive into this current,
With all its sour, all its sweet
And turn against fate.

Dive into this current,
Overpower that sour
Overpower it with sweet.

Like the currant on the vine,
Sour heightens the sweet.

I ask ye all,
Do you taste the currant?
Or just the current?

Through and Through

From which whence place do you expect me to go?
From which high hole do you tell me so?
Your high horse must look great from up there,
It looks even better from down here.

Tell me the last criticism you took so,
And tell me the last one you didnít give - oh
Is there none to think of, oh?

Do you take pride?
Do you smirk?

Of course you do
May be unbeknownst to you
But trust us itís true.
Fall foul of a few of your sins we do
In telling this to you,
But even so, we must through and through;
It is the least we can do,
Iím afraid there is no way else to tell you,
And I fear there is no recourse too.

And so we sit, me and you
Beneath the ceiling, in this room.
What criticism you have to give?
Of me, myself and I, of this poetry, of the sky?
Despite it all, through and through, I wonít change and neither will you.

Simply Be

Once upon this Summer year,
In this hell, in this fear.

Gaze upon your own demise,
In the sky, in your eyes.

Watch the cracks form lengthwise,
Across the mirror wall, across your lies.

In its place pray they donít see,
See your face, see you and me.

The walls once built upon so high,
Gone now, gone long, gone with a cry.

Ye who said that to wait was best.
Ye who took that with no contest:

Once upon this Winter night,
Can you say you won your plight?

Or is that why cracks form all-around
Across the sky, across the ground.

Centring upon ye:
Ye and your frayed psyche.

Where is one to go next?
Traipse along this trail, with no quest?

No! take upon the road ahead.
Donít dare leave this path, donít be led
Into nothingness, into insanity
Where you once laid your head.

Walk into day, away from night,
What do you have to fear from memories of light?

Even if not yourself,
Youíll cherish those memories for when you are:
For when you, and all around ye can simply be.

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