Poetry.

[lily_winterwood]

April's National Poetry Month and I still haven't posted anything poem-related. Bleh.

So here's some BSG poems. Two of them I wrote for school. Guess which ones.

I See New Caprica

Dirt.

Dirt, mud, rocks, and

Sand (alluvial deposits)—

A barren wasteland.

Infinite desolation

Stretching beyond to mountains.

 

Sun.

Hides behind clouds

Like a child scared of looking—

So flowers wither.

Hope shrivels with rotting plants

And becomes afraid to bloom.

 

Life.

Steel poles and tents

Poking out of muddy riverbanks—

Candles on a cake.

Humanity starts anew;

Want a better tomorrow.

 

Will we be like this, too?

Cabin in a Dream

I'd like to build a cabin by a stream

Where birds will wake me with their joyous song.

My life will feel exactly like a dream,

For we will walk with Nature all day long.

Because I know our duties must come first,

This house just stays forever in my heart.

And for your love I’ll always have a thirst

Though life one day will tear us far apart.

We’re parted by our love—it’s sad, but true.

My sickness makes my body waste away.

I’ve given up all hope; I know you knew.

But now I’m living solely for today.

My life is short for now I fear I’ll die;

At least with you I’ve learned to love, to fly.

To Laura Roslin and Bill Adama
You have the worst luck sometimes, I do daresay.

To find your soulmate when the world ends

Is a cruel stroke of fate; a dose of irony.

 

Love’s never a bed of roses from day one, I know.

You started out hating each other.

Laura, you thought he was insane.

Bill, you thought she was worthless.

But eventually you worked it out

And became a team.

 

It must hurt, Laura, to love a military man.

You never know if he’ll live,

For death surprises all in war.

Yet you’d fight for him,

Maybe even die for him.

For he is what you are;

All that is he’d always be.

 

It must hurt, Bill, to love a dying woman.

Her cancer’s ravaging her body and yet

You stand by her, keeping constant vigil.

You hope that she will be free one day,

Free of her duties, her responsibilities,

But she’ll never be free of you because

You’ll never be free of her.

 

So even if the world stands in its way,

I still admire your love.

It is a graceful calla lily—

Simple yet elegant and fitting right in.

It is a clear starry sky—

Beautiful and always there, yet somehow special.

It is a child’s laugh, a bird’s song,

Freshly fallen snow on the windowsill…

 

It is a sine qua non in and of itself,

For we take it for granted but then when it’s gone,

We are bereft.

 

Comments

[laurandbillever.livejournal.com]

as surprisingly as it may sound, I like New Caprica the most... the other two are cute, too, but the rhythm is a bit unstable while New Caprica is better and the words and everything... ah, poetry- my first and ultimate passion.... ^_^

[lily-winterwood.livejournal.com]

Poem 2 was supposed to be a sonnet. :P