This is the first post for the OFI Literature page. You can post poems, short stories, critiques, and even books if you have the time. I always love to read, and I am sure others will love to see what you have to write as well. Reading and Writing is fundamental as they always say. Feel free to post anything related to writing.
- Lee
Purified by Fire
ReplyDeleteA weak and poor man,
Gathering mud and murk
No matter the amount by hand
Filling a basin of muck he worked.
He worked his hands
And filled his hold
Moving the bucket
To the factory mould.
Through all the mud
Through all the exhaustion
On the slick brown sludge
He saw his reflection.
A middle class man
Burning elemental mass
No matter the heat
The sludge to molten glass.
He worked the machine
And filled his work
To burn the elements
To form and warp.
Through all the liquid
Through all the exhaustion
On the bright white molten
He saw his reflection.
A strong and rich man
With all his workers they admired
Watches over the crowd
The molten glass to moulds desired.
He pushed the buttons
And turned the dials
To form the elements
To STEEL by trials.
Through all the bars
Through all the exhaustion
On the silvery plates
He saw his reflection.
- Lee D. Morris
I decided to post one of my very own poems to kick-start the literature section. Ever heard of the term 'Purified by fire'? If not, I suggest looking it up before trying to understand the meaning of this poem.
Let Freedom Last
ReplyDeleteThe son of a German man
The American dream; in order to be free
Came the Father to this Land
He said, ‘Oh what a wonderful land
People are free, My strength helps me -
So blessed to living by mine own hand.’
Her father wanted opportunity
In Ireland was war, yet he wanted no more,
So too did he come to equality.
He said, “Oh, this is magnificent!
For people are free, no war for we-
And our quick wit can make us a cent.”
Two families came quite different
One family fit and the other with wit
As the children together were meant.
Two children grown together
Knowing not of their family’s past,
The German to American –
The Irishman to American –
So to their posterity freedom last.
- Lee D. Morris
Some background may be needed to learn of this. Germans are normally hard and brutal, strong and independent, while Irishmen are normally quick witted, fast, and extremely smart. On another note, the poem is set in the 1920's where both war, inflation, and other problems in both countries led thousands to migrate to the US in search of a new life. This is the story of two children of those migrants.
A Simple Question
ReplyDeleteIf only, if only
Near were the skies,
Every star in the night-
I would see in your eyes.
If during the day,
Sun shone FROM you so bright,
Millions would see
YOUR beautiful light.
-For now you hold
My life on the line,
If only ...
Would you forever be mine?
Notes:
I decided to put up this poem... Every night as I went to bed for the past two weeks, I saw snips of this poem in my head, and quickly wrote it down before I forgot them. After two weeks and a little tweeks here and there, I would say this is quite the sappy poem, agree? :)
I don't think this is sappy at all. It is very sweet and has excellent imagery. Are you talking about anyone in particular?
DeleteHere is a poem I made. It is called Rain. I posted on my own blog, too. This is it:
ReplyDeleteDrip, drop, drip, drop
Rain is coming to town.
Drip, drop, drip, drop
Here the roaring thunder sound.
Pitter, patter, pitter, patter
Music to my soul
Pitter, patter pitter, patter
After a summer as dry as coal.
Fill our lakes! Replenish the plains!
Our gift from above.
I'll never wish you away again
To have only the sunny days come.
Splish, splash, splish, splash
Dark skies suddenly bring good tidings.
Splish, splash, splish, splash
Raindrops land on my smile widening.
Drip, drop, drip, drop
Free from the hot temperature's bind
Drip, drop, drip, drop
Rain is my second sunshine.