Poems & lyrics :)

[JCFantasy23]

Beautiful - thanks for sharing it with us <3

 

[HopeS746]

These are amazing

 

[Ada Lovelace]

Thank you so much for the encouragement. I've written several new poems and worked on a few older ones lately, and I might upload them sometime when I'm on here from my laptop (I'm most often popping on from my phone).

 

[Butterfly99]

Wow you are really talented. Your poems are amazing.

 

[lilmatchgirl]

Ella, your poems are beautiful! Thank you for sharing them with us!

 

[Ada Lovelace]

Ella, your poems are beautiful! Thank you for sharing them with us!

Aw, thank you so much!!! The encouragement means a lot to me.

 

[Ada Lovelace]

That I was yours you never doubted
Nor will the I who was deny;
But seeds of all I then was sprouted
And grew into what now is I.

So will it be with me forever:
(I speak myself, nor judge of you)
What moments bind they also sever:
Out of old mind-skins crawl the new.

I shake your hand and in the shaking
Am freed of you, as you of me.
One creed alone I hold past breaking:
This inconsistent constancy.

 

[Ada Lovelace]

The first star trembles like a gilded fly
While walks the moon her web of sky.
Wish quickly. Some wish the weight of a bird,
The worth of a sigh;………. no matter: the word
Would be some language the world knows not,
Your lips be granite, the star forgot,
The spider moon be starved and dead
Before your lightest wish was said.

 

[Ada Lovelace]

The lark was not encountered where we went
We watched with eyes relentless
We could see no singing bird whose very spirit meant a thing aloof, against the sun, and free.
We watched with eyes intent.

The lark was not encountered. Nor was there
one eagle grasping any ledge of stone
among the buildings rising everywhere.
There was no eagle, splendid, and alone,
or falcon to be known.

These sinewed birds were fled from this despair.
The one that clutched the thunderbolt, the one
that clawed the cloud was gone, would never dare
the city, leave the station of the sun to be undone.

But we shall go again. But we shall go again......
And search along the hostile street.
And wander through the traffic, through the snow.
And only find the sparrow at our feet.
And only find the sparrow at our feet.

 

[Ada Lovelace]

The rain is a worn hand
The cold world cannot shun
There is no place to run
For all the ways are spanned

The rain is a beggar -
For sleepless hours she
Has called for charity;
Her cry is everywhere

The rain is a hurt child -
And even heaven knows
The wonder of her woes.
Her grief is strange and wild

 

[Ada Lovelace]

You know the moment of the city’s greatness
By heart: When suddenly a human beauty
Touches the stone and steal and filth,
Transfiguring the wrecked web of the elevated,
The sly, gambling streets,
The fish-eyed buildings,
And the panicky squandering.

This is the moment when evening
Darkens the hot nest with its wings.
You expect then the kindliest adventures.
The phone will buzz jagged with money,
The livid, down the hall boy
Will drift like snow into your room;
Street games will go mad with joy;
And one pale anonymous rocket
Will gulp among the evening stars.

It is only by this moment
That you guess the excellence
Of what has been and what must be.
Those old gods and lost forests
Were the easy, blameless destiny
Dreamed in the docile mind of nature
Before you broke from the dream
To flay the wild heaven with your tragic will.

 

[Roadrunner3]

This one made me feel so lighthearted. You have really captured the unblemished curiosity and joy of a child.
To think of a skylark song as a fragment of life, or light, or beads. Just delightful.
RR3

 

[Cimorene]

When I was a child
I hunted every orchard
For a bit of fallen skylark-song.
I thought trills came from the throat
In ribbons and beads of color.
My earnest heart was tortured
To find a wisp of music
Or the shining dust of a note.

Afterward I thought
Of happiness like a skylark-song,
A dazzling fragment of life
To be discovered or missed;
Something more than itself -
The strangeness under a word-song,
A rainbow to lie in my palm,
Enchantment to tie at my wrist.

I definitely see why you've won so many awards. You are so talented. This is my favorite poem of yours. I liked the New Year's poem you had on Facebook a lot. You should share it and more of your song lyrics. I am so in love with The Soul to Dare. The whole world needs to hear you!

 

[Ada Lovelace]

Surely nothing is mine of a storm -
the trees broken, the birds huddled and alone.
I have been safe and warm
wondering at what I have known…..
the dead music that sinks to rest
after a storm, and the acorns lying
in the little pools of a lark’s nest,
and the wind plying
so softly through the grass it is not there
or anywhere, or even the wind at all,
but a memory of high things that share
beauty in the wind only to fall.

Surely nothing is mine but the calm
coming after a storm, and the day squandered
loosely, like petals from a child’s palm.
But heart, heart who has wandered
to the place where silence is bound,
where hunger is slow,
surely you did not come without sound,
it could not be so…..
save somewhere in your fugitive going
you have known wind and rain, and love broken
by a frail tempest in the night blowing;
out of a storm your quiet, your peace spoken.

 

[Blue Wren]

Very nice!

 

[Ada Lovelace]

O thousand stone ecstatic hands
Upflung and suppliant!
Divine bright dancers, delicate
And lean, what inarticulate need
Of man's locked spirit do you dance?

Up from the street! Up! Like a prayer
You reach and leap. Oh, terrible
The hunger of your reaching hands
(The terror of man's pleading soul)
Up through the broken sky!

Stone becomes fire. Hands of white flame,
Columns of stone that mount like fire,
Strain in a strange frozen dance,
Change and leap and lick the sky -
Because man hungers like a flame.

Dance, plead, reach high! Leap high and higher,
Divine bright dancers. Leap and reach
Up through the broken sky. Oh, dance -
From man's eternity of pain -
Beauty's eternal glorious birth!

 

[Ada Lovelace]

Who feasts on understanding,
The honey of the heart,
A gourmet is she who makes of life
A ritual and an art.

Who dines on bitterness,
The thin whey of the mind,
Will throw the fruit of life away
And chew upon a rind.

 

[afishamongmany]

Hi Stanfordella, thank you - your poem straightway made me think of Proverbs 27:7,
A satisfied soul loathes the honeycomb,
But to a hungry soul every bitter thing is sweet.
Does the hunger cause the bitterness or the other way round? Such is poetry, to make us think and understand with more than our minds only.
Go well
><>

 

[Roadrunner3]

Fascinating idea here (in the poem posted Sept 24) and it makes me think about those rare individuals whose brain processes
lead them to experience music as colors. That we could collect a bird song, or a happy moment,
and keep it as a keepsake. I suspect we actually do this.
Really enjoyed.
RR3

 

[Ada Lovelace]

The chance might not repeat that there be three,
and that the sky be sunny empty blue,
and that a singing hush imbue the green
of cradling branches with a boundless tune,
and that a helpless peace suffuse my brain.
Unlike birds, more like airplanes, they dived
triangular in loops and spins, behaved
as aviators in a charted line.
Skylarks more than three had been too much -
a simple flock at play; and less, a pair
at mating. And if it nevermore occur,
I shall have seen the three of me to match
a song of motion in the sky.
My soul, my flesh, my brain, that once, were welded whole.