Tag Archive | poetry

It’s Poetry Time: The Sky Beyond the Library Window

nerdfighters rules Hello Fellow BookNerds!

Exam season is upon us – or me, at least – which means less time working from my comfortable bed and more time trying to make myself comfortable in the stiff, poorly cushioned, library chairs. I take pleasure in being surrounded by books for hours on end, but I usually prefer them to be books concerning topics that I find fascinating; Advanced Calculus and Microbiology don’t exactly scream “read me, read me” to me. Although I am sure they would be fascinating to some, I must digress. 

I would like to share with you all a poem which was inspired by nothing more than the view from the fifth floor window of the university library. Why, you ask? Well, I like to think that there really is no logical rationality behind poetic expression; the reason comes from something beyond our mental comprehension. As I look at the sky through the cobweb laced window pane, something inside me demands for the beauty of what I see to be captured and preserved within a poetic connotation. Poetry is one of humanities greatest mysteries, one which we may never come to fully understand.

So, without further ado, here is a poem for your enjoyment, and possibly a window to more than just a scenic view ^_^

                                               high_res_blue_sky_clouds_texture_4863_________________________________

                                         The Sky Beyond the Library Window                                                                                                                               By Emily Manns

At first glance, I see naught but cirrus and cumulus.

Shades of white and grey.

Fluctuating specks appearing and vanishing in quick succession.

Their cries deaf to my ears.

Man made structures hindering our fiery star from reaching through those windows.

Providing light for our eyes.

Intricately weaved patterns torn into strands by the unconstrained winds.

Spiders have long since gone.

The silhouettes of students burdened by books block my view. 

I return to my studies, hoping to see that world beyond the window once again before it is stolen by the night, for no beauty can compare to the sky beyond the library window.

Just as the poem tells, I must return back to my studies. If you enjoyed reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it, then I encourage you to let me know in the comments. If you didn’t like it, I encourage you to comment on it all the same. I like to encourage honesty, for if we cannot be honest with others, how on earth can we expect to be honest with ourselves? So comment away, and until next time, happy reading!

Cheers,

BookNerd

Advertisements

It’s Poetry Time!

nerdfighters rules Hello Fellow BookNerds!

I felt inspired to indulge in a little bit of poetic creativity after watching a few episodes of the anime “Glass Mask”, the story of a teenage girl who goes through many hardships, all the while striving to become the ultimate actress who will one day take on the role that her acting teacher had once made famous in her youth; The Crimson Goddess. It’s one of the stories that makes you want to cheer on the protagonist, because she is working so hard and overcoming barriers which, in real life, would appear as impossibly hurtles. In this episode, the girl is being made to spend a week living in the shoes of the character she will be performing the role of, simply to see if she has what it takes to stay in character.

This is what has inspired my inner poet, although I should remind those of you who don’t know that I am not, in any way, a poet, nor do I pretend to be good at poetry. I simply admire the art form and sometimes feel a need to use it as a means of channeling my inner creativity. Still, I hope you enjoy it ^_^

————-

shattered-mask Shattering the Mask

I stand alone on center stage, the masses hidden within the shadows of the dazzling lights.

Whispers fade to silence, broken by the sound of blood rushing past my eardrums.

My heart is pounding within my chest, threatening to break through,

A single drop of sweat rolls down my cheek, falling silently to the floor at my feet.

The lights dim, the spotlight flickers on, and the world as I knew it disappears…

“What new evil is this which plagues our land!?”

A voice rings out from my throat, but it is not mine … whose is it?

“Never before have I had to bear witness to such devastation.”

The voice grows louder, full of passion, sadness and a seething anger … but what is the cause?

“Everything has been burned down to the very root, so that nothing may grow ever again.”

Yes, I am a poor woman whom the town sought vengeance from … but is that my true face?

It was only moments ago I had been a modern girl in high school, well off and beautiful.

Why, then, am I wearing this tattered dress and turning the burnt soil beneath my feet with a rusted old hoe?

I look out to where the audience should be, but see only wide open fields and the deep red glow of the sun just beyond the hills.

I continue to speak, the words pouring out as though the flood gate within me had been raised, yet the words were still not my own … or were they?

Perhaps that girl I thought I had been never really existed; how am I to know?

I was certain I had set foot on a stage, but the world I see bares no resemblance to the one I had known;

There is no stage…

There is no audience…

There is no spotlight above my head…

Then, the light suddenly disappears from all around me, only to come on once again and reveal the dimly lit faces I had nearly forgotten.

People are holding hands with me on either side, heads bowed low, smiling as a wave of sound erupts from all sides. 

As the curtain falls, the mask shatters, and I am me once again.

————–

I hope you enjoyed this as much as I enjoyed writing it. As always, any comments or critiques are welcome, but keep in mind that I write poetry simply for the joy of it, and not because I plan on making a career out of it.

That’s all for today. Until next time, happy reading!

Cheers,

BookNerd

Poetry Time!

Hello All!

As you may have noticed, I neglected to post on the weekend. With midterms coming up, and essays coming due, I don’t have as much time to post as I would like. This being the case, I have made the difficult decision to only update my blog on weekdays. If I happen to suddenly get struck by spontaneous inspiration on the weekend, and I have a spare moment to indulge myself, then I will post something on the weekend. Otherwise, I will remain in a two day hibernation cycle until the end of the semester.

Alright, with that business out of the way, let’s get to today’s topic.

I don’t know about you guys, but I thoroughly enjoyed dabbling in the poetic arts last week. In fact, I enjoyed it so much that I decided to make it a permanent weekly segment. Today, my poetic inspiration derives from the ecstasy I felt as I laid eyes upon the falling snow.

Snowflake

If I Was a Snowflake

I would shine and shimmer,

                  Gleam and glitter,

                               Bright like the noonday sun.

I would travel for miles,

                     Carried by the wind,

                                 Moving without a sound.

I would be entirely unique,

                       One of a kind,

                                  No one would be able to compare

I would flaunt my beauty,

                 Show off my crystalline figure,

                                  And seek out the spotlight

I would sit on people’s hats,

                              Refusing to melt,

                                          And then be on my way once more.

I would travel to London,

                                   See the sites,

                                            Dance on the pedals of a rose.

I would seek out celebrities,

                Like Benedict Cumberbatch,

                          And spend some time on his nose.

If I was a snowflake,

                 This life would be ideal,

                                  But alas it cannot be.

For the life of a snowflake is temporary,

                    Fleeting, and completely beyond my control.

                               On second though … I don’t want to be a snowflake!

Just in case any of you were wondering, I don’t tend to follow any of the conventional poetic structures. I’m a free stylist, always have been. I have nothing against structures writing, but I find that it can become kind of boring and redundant to read haiku’s and quatrains all the time, even if the content differs from one to the next. I prefer things to be more spontaneous and abstract. It also helps when it appeals to my inner nerd, hence the Benedict Cumberbatch reference.

That is all for today. If you have any comments, questions or concerns, feel free to jot them down in the comments. Enjoy the snow while it’s here, and until next time, happy reading!

Cheers 🙂

Macbeth Inspired Poem

This was written during our high school study of the play Macbeth, and is basically a poetic description of the battle that occurred at the end of the play between Macbeth and Macduff, where Macbeth finally met his inescapable fate. It is rather violent, so just like my horror short story, if you cannot stomach violence and gore, do not read! Otherwise, enjoy at your leisure 🙂

 

God of War

By Emily Manns

Blood curdling, muscles burning,

Teeth jarring, strength waning.

Horses screaming, metal sparking.

Warriors falling, children bawling. . .

War is a blood parade.

 

The sky does frown upon the ground with blackened clouds.

Acid tears soaked into the trampled crimson mud.

The flesh of man becoming one with that upon which they lived.

Such an appropriate end to an inappropriate beginning.

For men’s creation of violence hath doomed civilization.

 

Women screaming, baby’s crying,

Houses burning, flames flying.

Lightning flashing, thunder rolling,

But all to what end?

 

When this battle is fought and won,

Will the pain and suffering truly be done?

Shall man’s thirst for blood ever be quenched?

The power of rage and pride feed the dark beast within,

A creature we all possess, but that no one can see.

Violence brings out the worst in all of us. . .

 

Wind howling, stomach lurching,

Lungs cramping, wounds swelling.

Heart pounding, lips cracking,

Veins pulsing, bones breaking.

Fear overcomes all hope. . .

 

Macbeth wanted what his destiny denied,

It was his yearning to survive and earn enough to feed his greed.

Swords are his words, blood is his strength. . .

Death to all that defy the King of Scotland!

Our Savior: A Ballad

I found this while looking through the many written works that were produced by my creative hand during my grade 12 writers craft class. I never felt more inspiration for writing than the days I spent sitting at that desk, listening intently as the teacher gave us our next assignment. This was an example of a ballad we were supposed to come up with, and because I was entering into my ‘nerdy phase’, which I honestly think has been permanently incorporated into my personality, this one was dedicated to none other than the infamous time lord, Dr. Who! Enjoy :)

Our Savior

By Emily Manns

A vast amount of galaxies

So little time to see

A man of bravery and time

Has come to set us free

 

Soaring through time through his Tardis

Meeting creatures of old

Saving our planet from darkness

His name remains untold

 

In the library shadows sleep

Waiting for human flesh

If two shadows behind you creep

Bones and skin will then mesh

 

Everyday when we’re safe at home

Stars winking down at you

Remember that one ancient name

You’re safe with Dr. Who