Thursday, August 2, 2007

Poetry Dump (Not Code)

The CodePoet takes a departure from regular blogging to share with you some poetry.

A Poem for and Unnamed Lady
Long stood I, outside the gates
Until I found the Key to win my entrance.

A key built of patience, wisdom, charm, and cunning,
to open a lock of beauty, intelligence, talent, and grace.

The lands beyond the gates, I have yet to explore,
finding treasures beyond measure at the threshold.

I am sure more quests lay ahead of this knight errant
and I look forward to the challenges -- and the rewards.


Her Beauty Sings To Me
Her Beauty sings to me,
not beauty of form, which she has,
but the beauty of her soul.

The Melody of her heartbeat
calls to me, like a waking dream,
I can't help but dance to the music.


A Prayer to Lady Ada
Lady Ada,
Look down upon this humble coder,
Guide me with your unerring logic.

Lady Ada,
Inspire me with your genius,
may I code a thing of beauty.

Lady Ada,
You set the path before me,
may I follow it for the rest of my days.


Her Strength
She would hide her strength,
if she only knew she had it.

Instead she wears it,
oblivious to how strong she is.

Not just strength,
but the grace to carry it.

She stands, not above us
but with us, inspiring all those around her.

She sustains us with her example,
and we hold her up, allowing her to lean on us.

Her strength is her friends,
she draws from them as they give willingly,
as she gives back so much in return.


Under the Cat's Paw
I find myself
under the cat's paw
is she playing with me?
or will I feel the claw?

What is this game I play?
why do I dare?
Surely its attention,
but is it care?

So I find myself
a plaything for a time
I can't help but notice
her licking her lips at the dinner chime.

Potential II
The key is turned
the spring is wound
energies held in potential
a simple clasp waiting to be released
will you open the lid
and hear the music play?



Dark's Veil
She clothes herself in darkness
trying to hide the brilliance of her soul.
A veil she presents to the world
she only pulls it back
for those that have already guessed her nature.


Fictional Hearts
Damn our fictional hearts
and the feelings they pretend to produce
our minds of fantasy driving us
to play out our story
in a land that does not exist
yet is all too real.

Miles Travled
Miles Traveled,
Wonders seen,
an experience shared,

The distance between two hearts,
you are beauty in my eyes
your friendship, the greatest wonder of all.

A Friend
I hold a tune in my head
I hold a song in my heart
A verse plays across my hands
I have a poem for a friend.

A Feather from an Angel's Wing
A feather from an angel's wing
is not easy to come by, so they say.
Either it is willfully given
or it is forcibly taken
both events are one of rarity.
I am not saying how I got mine
but there is a third way,
for how do the angels grow them?



My Muses are many, and if they want to out themselves, they may, but the poet for now will keep it to himself, but don't let that stop you from guessing.


3 comments:

DarklingRose said...

Beautiful, Sir Zen... truly, regardless of the language, you are a Poet.
Thank you for sharing with us.

Her Grace, Eva Bellambi said...

Wonderful works, Sir Zen. Thank you for posting them. So very beautiful.

Amina said...

Keep up the good work.