Cacophony Of The Soul: Select Writings Of Zarn Ishtare

[Peanut]

Review of Mordred done in my typical reviewing fashion:

Interesting structure…the poem is almost seems chiastic except for a few lines in the middle. Not sure if that is intentional or just a result of the way you repeated certain words and ideas. Besides that this one was ok…not you’re best but not you’re worst.

Review of breathing done in a much different style:

Breathing, on the surface, is about breathing however there is a much deeper meaning behind this piece, one which would require years of studying and several degrees to actually grasp. I am going to try and sum it up in the span of a single paragraph. The second line of the first stanza conveys an idea of a new beginning and in many ways that is what this poem appears to be about. Releasing the old and bring in the new similar to how the human body breathes in new oxygen and breathes out old carbon dioxide. Though that is the intended meaning, it is not the meaning which I take away from the text. The line “release the things that bind me” makes it sounds almost meditative. Therefore the author is actually talking about zen Buddhist meditation and the sense of release he gets from it. Yes, that is how I interpret it therefore that is how it is.

Review of Old Words, Old Worlds Take 2 as a Hakiu:

This poem is good.
But this Haiku makes no sense
Refrigerator.

There...three reviews. Now post in Of Nations, and remember, you never said that those reviews had to be done by three different people. MWAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAH!!!

[Zarn Ishtare]

Ah, but I am not an honest puck,

and so with your unernst(sp?) luck

I tell you sir,

Good day.


(Also, review EVERY poem on page 9. Really review them; with more than one poster. gogogo)

[Dante]

"Listen"


"If you could hear my whispers at night

when all is quiet

I'd want you to hear me

it'd bring me peace, thats all."

This poem is true. If one can hear your wispers then one can hear you, the statement can be written mathematically as P <--> Q, where the statement P implies that one can here you, and statement Q implies that you have been heard. It has the truth table of being true whenever you are heard or not heard and it false if you are heard but not heard or vice versa.

bumping my thread...

This was one of your best ones, it was short yet catchy, almost short enough to not be considered a poem to those who weren't "hip with the times". It had a brilliant form of jazzy bounce to it and somehow brought to mind an epic post rendered by Peanut concerning the game of Pong:

Clearly you haven't taken the time to discuss it (Pong) with intellectuals at the college level. While just yesterday Ryan and I had a nice chat about the symbolism within the game of pong. You see, each of the paddles represents their respective player and the ball represents a question or idea which they are contesting. But the ball doesn't just represent any idea or question, but the central idea and question that all men wrestle with in life and that's a question of meaning. What are we supposed to do? Are we meant for greater things? When a person scores it is symbolic of them achieving something that brings meaning to their life at the cost of someone else's failure. And they recieve a point which symbolizes the climb to higher goals. It's really a very deep and thought provoking game. If I had time I would seriously consider writting several books on it and even then I wouldn't be able to touch on all the intricacies of that game.

"Devil Dog: Impressions"

"Where the dogs of war go

to distand lands
the tigers of our thought
slip silently behind
broken cages release ravens
carrying my stories to heaven

Rings of water, slipping down
the honey mountain
my eyes have become ember pools
with chunks of chrystal at the bottom.


My life has become an Iron City
Run by a parliment of Ghosts
Its streets of silver chains
flow silently to its center

A gloom of half lit lamps caresses every corner
The firelight filtered through the darkened glass
of a lantern dimly lit."

This one is really something else! I think you should take some of this imagery... no.

I think KALIGRAPHIC should steal some of this imagery for his forces of the undead in N&S . The silver chains, the ghastly city, if anything I'm afraid that the brilliant apparitions this pieces conjures in my mind tend to distract me from the main meaning... I no that it is implied that it has something to do with you, but my mind seems to state "No, I just want to play in the ghost city and enjoy how Zarn played with these words". For once, your own good talent with words got too much in the way of your desire to bring forth a meaning to us... or maybe that's what you intended to do!

-3 Reviews by the master of BS (Bachelor of Science)
Pascal

[Peanut]

[quote="Zarn Ishtare (post: 1281588)"]
(Also, review EVERY poem on page 9. Really review them]

...beggars can't be choosers Zarn...

[Photosoph]

Default
"Solitude" By Sophrem.
(Or, Confessions of a man when dieing.)

Solitude.
I am surrounded, but alone.
Reminence.
Remembering love and its bounties.
Disconsolation. Rememnering anew the pain of my lost heart.
The wolf cries alone, heeding only the pale disc which hangs above.
Mother, I am blinded by my love, my vision has been stolen by love.
Am I condemned to walk the lonely road? Love walks behind me....yet should I turn my eyes from the path, should I try to catch a glimpse of love before its time, it will dissapear like water, evaporating in the noonday sun. The Stars burn bright as the sleepless dead tread on roads build on their own shattered dreams.
and still I am alone. I miss you...my heart, my love.
Goodbye and Goodnight,
Tai.

I was one the Crying lone wolf, before this misery.
Now I am the Dieing lone wolf, and I have come to see
That destiny does not make children, but gives only orphans who bleed.

Wow, another very beautiful poem. I really liked the imagery of love walking behind. I get the picture in my head of really wanting to turn around, but if you do... you'll lose what you want to find. Very cool.

Ah, oops; sorry, didn't realise that that other poem wasn't yours. ^_^" Well it's still really good.
And also I apologise; stress and a lot to do have kept me away for a while. There are so many poems to reply to that have appeared while I've been away... I hope you don't mind if I don't comment on all of them, since that could take a long, long time for me, especially with detailed comments.
But I love to read your poems, so thank you for posting more. ^^

[Photosoph]

"Way"
(The Letters and Liquid all flowing, all swords and all poetry and all art flows...)

Liquid honey and eyes of water

denote the smile as it slips across the face

with eyes like water she looks into the future

a mirror a door a dancing window

flowing away from all possibility

flowing slow, until the faucet stops

and the words drop faster into the pages

racing from thought-form to stains upon the space

left blank

as ribbons of water run upon the sand and

ink drops splatter in casual patterns from a broken pen

the thoughts are swords pointed in every direction

thought flows like fountains to fountains






all air and all light

will vanish tonight and leave us breathless

and without sight



I opened up my thought and the dream came in.

Ah, another beautiful one!
I love how there's a sort of 'swiftness' about the writing for this; really great pace and rhthym! Beautiful imagery once again, and I love the last line... simply because it's just so different and stands out, while still keeping to the theme and scheme of the poem. ^^

[Zarn Ishtare]

[quote="Photosoph (post: 1282001)"]Ah, another beautiful one!
I love how there's a sort of 'swiftness' about the writing for this]

PHOTO!!!!!


Darlin, I have missed the heck out of you and your wonderful comments; thanks for coming back! Also, I love that you got the swiftness theme; it was exactly what I was trying to convey.

[Zarn Ishtare]

"Colors"

The sound of the bugle fades slowly away
echoing off the dappled hills
it cries ring out, "remember, remember".

The sound dies out amidst the noises of the night
the Colors raised high now stored in sleep
But a young man still stands at attention
his heart is moved, his hands tightly gripped
his posture still, he strains to hear it
the sounds of "Colors"
still echoing through the hills. As it fades, so does his fear.
His love grows.


Somewhere, an old man still stands at attention
He hears the half-remembered names of memory
friends that remain forever young.
He salutes them. Their sacrifice still fresh, still sharp,
he sees them salute from another place. For a time they stand together
hearing the sound of "Colors" fading slowly away.

For a moment, all are joined; The guard at his post, chilled and alone,
the commander worn by cares and time, the tired recruit dreaming of glory,
the old man wounded in war and
the young man starting his story. Together, they stand, and honor the Colors
as the bugle call fades slowly away."

[Kaligraphic]

I like Colors. Simple, strong imagery, and a relatable experience. The latter part of the second stanza sounds a bit artificial/forced, but overall it's pretty smooth.

[Zarn Ishtare]

I'm meditating tonight....

[Zarn Ishtare]

"Essa Collections"


The thrill of a chill runs spine

the tears that kissed my eyes remain frozen in awe

as I stare out, into Ever-white

into the beautiful ever-light.

"Ever Light"






My mouth has become a creek

a crack in my face

my words are a river flowing slowly

drawled out water

going out slow.





In a frozen forest

We stood caressed by time

warmed by fear

It was in the ice-laden wood

Warmth overcame fear.

[Photosoph]

[quote="Zarn Ishtare (post: 1282172)"]PHOTO!!!!!


Darlin, I have missed the heck out of you and your wonderful comments]

Ah cool!
Missed you too! >.< Sorry, I'm not on CAA so much. ~_~" But when I am, I like to come and see what you've posted while I was gone. ^_^

Wow... colours was really beautiful. Maybe because of my Dad, I've seen a lot of war documentaries and learned a lot about the war, although my knowledge is still really lacking. The way you spoke of the soldiers standing and saluting, reminds me of that heart-wrenching feeling I often get when I hear the stories of the world wars.
I liked the way you brought together the past and the present, with the army theme; how there was a common tie between the new soldier starting out and the old ones, whether gone or still with us.

Wow! Just starting reading 'Essa Collections' and have to comment already. XD Another amazing piece; love how the repetition of 'Ever-Light' within quotation marks has such an amazing impact!

The second verse is just as beautiful; the third is excellent two, however for some reason it doesn't seem to quite fit with the former two; perhaps it's just my interpretation of the two former verses which may differ from the theme you see and wrote them with.

More excellent poetry Zarn; great job. ^^

[Zarn Ishtare]

Carry me

in a thistle-bellied basket


take me to the water

with a sleepy smile


lay me in the river

give me my rest

[Zarn Ishtare]

"Going West"


The train is leaving the station

Hurry up please its time

the train is leaving the station

hurry up please its time




a wandering imagination

postulates a possible

a cool wind that blows through the dells

a warm pool beside the Chrystal mountain



I got the note I wrote

it lead me far away

I thought I saw myself

coming back from yesterday





Et...Et....Et.....I don't know anymore.

[Zarn Ishtare]

curious


she told me I was

cured

clap!






the sound of the age breaks

a thousands fists to heaven shake

before the darkness overtake.


*find God, find GOD, FIND G-D*

[Zarn Ishtare]

set frames so delicately placed

words like frozen poetry; living fountains; quiet mountains from which tall streams
flow

words become stacked together, packaging

poetry is just so much packaging

but what is underneath it

who can see it?

[Photosoph]

Carry me

in a thistle-bellied basket


take me to the water

with a sleepy smile


lay me in the river

give me my rest

Aw, I love this! Maybe because I love the purple heads of thistles... they look so soft and lovely; and seeing them that way, it lends a happy but peaceful/soft feeling to this poem for me.

"Going West"


The train is leaving the station
(------tab/space-------) Hurry up please it's time

The train is leaving the station
(------tab/space-------) Hurry up please it's time




a wandering imagination

(------tab/space-------) postulates a possible




a cool wind that blows through the dells



a warm pool beside the Chrystal mountain





I got the note I wrote

it lead me far away


I thought I saw myself

coming back from yesterday





Et...Et....Et.....I don't know anymore.

It's good, although just a little review and I think it would really bring out what I heard in there. Hope you don't mind if I suggest a few changes?
Probably not exactly what you had in mind however; mostly thinking that if the lines with 'a cool wind blows...' and '...a Crystal mountain' are more connected in your thoughts, then that should be changed accordingly too. Mostly I was just trying to group or space thoughts out with a bit of formatting, because I think your poem has some really neat effects and lines that are almost hiding, you need to look to find them. If you format them a bit, the effects would come through when reading it far easier. ^_^

curious


she told me I was

cured

clap!






the sound of the age breaks

a thousands fists to heaven shake

before the darkness overtake.


*find God, find GOD, FIND G-D*

Wow... striking, especially the first verse. A lot that went over my head I'm afraid, but the flow/rhythm etc still came through, and I like it. Even if I don't fully understand it. ^_^

set frames so delicately placed

words like frozen poetry; living fountains; quiet mountains from which tall streams
flow

words become stacked together, packaging

poetry is just so much packaging

but what is underneath it

who can see it?

A reasonable question. I think poetry is inbetween song and riddle; so much hidden, so much gleaned from elements such as rhythm and sound, not always just the words.
Saying that, another good poem; loved how the 'living fountains' and 'quiet mountains' pieces flow together. Really cool if subtle effect... just rolls the sentence and thought on.

There's definitely a lot I miss in poetry, but I think even if a poem isn't fully 'solved' by the reader, there's something in it which goes with them; a sense or a thought that puts their thoughts on a different path. Maybe it's what lies in the mystery that makes them think over it longer.

More excellent poetry from you Zarn, thank you.

[Zarn Ishtare]

Let the rivers of light that flow from my eyes

find gentle beds to sleep in

let every fragile tear find a resting place

the lines drawn from my eyes to my chin

every line upon my face

find a place to sleep tonight.

[USSRGirl]

Pretty and mysterious.

[Zarn Ishtare]

"The Daughter's Of Avilone"




foaming crests of white upon an emerald sea

are reflections of all our unsaid words

and their hands move so fast

their silver hands under the water

push forward the waves that wash me away

wash all of me away


Lord knows I built my house upon the sand

I invited the daughters of of Avilone in

wave-sisters of the foaming hair

foolishly I thought to contain their merry

Their giggling contortions left my house in disrepair.


My place will remain amongst the waves.





End. I can't finish this right now, mebbe later.

[Zarn Ishtare]

"From The Altar"

"As I went away to sin

my tears still stained the altar

Leaving the Presence

My voice still echoed in the chapel


God, what is this thing you have wrought?

Sin in one hand, Love in the other

how does a man hold on?


Eli, Eli, Lama Sabachthani...No.

My God, why do I forsake you?

Eloi, Abba...Adonai. Forgive us our trespasses.

[Zarn Ishtare]

"Sanctus"





I kept my eyes upon the Virgin At The Cross


all the distractions the chapel offered me

dust motes falling off the walls

the creaking of the planks

the filtered light moving amongst the pews

yet my mind still reached toward You.



My hands grasped the Altar

Breathe coming in short sobs

desperate gasps between muttered prayers

praise from exhausted lips.

I am standing, fearing death, fearing sleep

Fearing You.


"Eloi, Eloi..."

Hanging by the thread

Hanging on the Cross

Jesus. Find my calling again

All I could say in an empty room

"Find me".

"Do...In me, Do."






"Sanctus Patre"


It is cold outside the Chapel walls

Grasp a coat against the bitter cold

I shut the door and lock the windows.

I move against the wind. Shadows pass me by

I salute them wearily. They brighten, they smile.

Followers and sheep, children and deacons, servants

They call to me: "Rabbi, Teacher, Preacher! Hallelujah El-Shaddai!"


I...walk away.





"In nomine Patris et fillii et Spiritus Sancti"

[Zarn Ishtare]

"Dark The Wine"






A single silver platter sits

alone upon a pyramid pillar

upon it stands a single cup of pewter

smelted with jewels, its handle cloth-of-gold.



And in it are the purest waters of the world

I took heed of this cup

I took hold of this cup

My flood runneth over from this cup

I drank the sea from this cup.




In the echoed tunnels of time

A voice whispered down past the empty rooms

"Hark my friend, Blacken The Wine; For sweeter tastes shall be yours to know."

I considered this; I put my mind to it

I put my knife to it

and bled for it's sake; to darken the cup.



It's scent caused me to be hungry

Blood-Thirsty

I leapt forth; I seized it with termite fingers

and blank eyes. I gulped the dark fires and washed away thought.



Now I hide eternally in the halls of time; a chattering voice, an ethereal face.
I feel dull shadows of the darkening day; weak repercussions

aftershocks

I see a traveler at the gate

I take his heart in my hands

And whisper to his

empty mind



"Take Heed My Friend, Blacken The Wine"

[Peanut]

Dark the Wine is an interesting piece Zarn...nice imagery and symbolism. It's good though the first stanza could use some work...the lining makes it read a little to choppy. Besides that it was very good...

[Sae-chan]

Ah! Very nice! Keep up the great work.

[Zarn Ishtare]

Sometimes


it is better to let words go unwritten

and to cease to speak.

Let these words go unspoken.

[Zarn Ishtare]

"Can't Win The Argument"



"Lafayette has laughed at me;
what am I to say?
I try to argue sensibly
he intones "Bastille day".


How can I change them?
Their moving too fast
I minister to their present
it is already their past.


And who am I to speak?
My throat has rusted over
the pipes have creaked and cracked
flowing like a creek from my mouth

from a crack in my mouth

all the words fell out

Let me make you."

[Zarn Ishtare]

"Tremble and Trill"


I am a pool of shifting water


I am dust upon the pond.


The wind trills, then trembles;

my surface is disturbed


the reflection of the Sky

broken by the branches of long dead trees

[Photosoph]

Let the rivers of light that flow from my eyes

find gentle beds to sleep in

let every fragile tear find a resting place

the lines drawn from my eyes to my chin

every line upon my face

find a place to sleep tonight.

Very soft; lovely in its softness. Well done; not the most striking simply because it isn't one that tries to grab you and swing you about with its words and imagery... but in its simple softness, it has something beautiful.

"The Daughter's Of Avilone"




foaming crests of white upon an emerald sea

are reflections of all our unsaid words

and their hands move so fast

their silver hands under the water

push forward the waves that wash me away

wash all of me away


Lord knows I built my house upon the sand

I invited the daughters of of Avilone in

wave-sisters of the foaming hair

foolishly I thought to contain their merry

Their giggling contortions left my house in disrepair.


My place will remain amongst the waves.





End. I can't finish this right now, mebbe later.

Hm... yeah, it could have a more final ending, but for now where it ends does suffice. I have to say, the first two lines were average (average as in really good but not quite up to the best that I've seen you do X3) or rather maybe not so much average, but just weaker. Hm... not even sure if that's what I want to say: what I want to point out, rather, is that it really seems to kick off (another less-than-perfect word for what I'm talking about ^_^") at the 'silver hands under the water' line. So by 'weaker', it's just that the lines before it aren't as striking as these ones and how you continue on from them. Not much of a problem, but it just means that you need to read two lines into it to really get into the poem.
Still lovely though, and an excellent idea that you're exploring; reminds me of the 'house built upon the rock' vs the one on the sand, with more modern day relevance with the giggles and merriment reminding me of taking in the pleasures of the world to one's ruin.

"From The Altar"

"As I went away to sin

my tears still stained the altar

Leaving the Presence

My voice still echoed in the chapel


God, what is this thing you have wrought?

Sin in one hand, Love in the other

how does a man hold on?


Eli, Eli, Lama Sabachthani...No.

My God, why do I forsake you?

Eloi, Abba...Adonai. Forgive us our trespasses.

Beautiful, and really fitting for Easter as it's coming up. I've been thinking more deeply about sin lately, and I love the sense of this poem as thoughts with tears. Um... if that makes sense. ^_^" Or rather thoughts/talking with God, with tears.

"Sanctus"





I kept my eyes upon the Virgin At The Cross


all the distractions the chapel offered me

dust motes falling off the walls

the creaking of the planks

the filtered light moving amongst the pews

yet my mind still reached toward You.



My hands grasped the Altar

Breathe coming in short sobs

desperate gasps between muttered prayers

praise from exhausted lips.

I am standing, fearing death, fearing sleep

Fearing You.


"Eloi, Eloi..."

Hanging by the thread

Hanging on the Cross

Jesus. Find my calling again

All I could say in an empty room

"Find me".

"Do...In me, Do."

Very beautiful. You know, often in books with verses for each day, they have poems that explore a theme, usually in taking with a verse or two which focus on the theme for the day. I can really imagine this in one of those daily reading books, because I've often found the poems there really meaningful and accessible to me where I am. I think this poem, with its message of wonder and yearning... it would really speak to a wide audience. It's really well written.

"Sanctus Patre"


It is cold outside the Chapel walls

Grasp a coat against the bitter cold

I shut the door and lock the windows.

I move against the wind. Shadows pass me by

I salute them wearily. They brighten, they smile.

Followers and sheep, children and deacons, servants

They call to me: "Rabbi, Teacher, Preacher! Hallelujah El-Shaddai!"


I...walk away.





"In nomine Patris et fillii et Spiritus Sancti"

Wow. Thought-provoking, especially the ending that makes you think deeper. With 'rabbi' etc it makes me think maybe the character whose point of view is taken could be Jesus... but I'm not sure. Something to ponder. A nice sort of mystery; something to think deeper about.

[Photosoph]

"Dark The Wine"






A single silver platter sits

alone upon a pyramid pillar

upon it stands a single cup of pewter

smelted with jewels, its handle cloth-of-gold.



And in it are the purest waters of the world

I took heed of this cup

I took hold of this cup

My flood runneth over from this cup

I drank the sea from this cup.




In the echoed tunnels of time

A voice whispered down past the empty rooms

"Hark my friend, Blacken The Wine; For sweeter tastes shall be yours to know."

I considered this; I put my mind to it

I put my knife to it

and bled for it's sake; to darken the cup.



It's scent caused me to be hungry

Blood-Thirsty

I leapt forth; I seized it with termite fingers

and blank eyes. I gulped the dark fires and washed away thought.



Now I hide eternally in the halls of time; a chattering voice, an ethereal face.
I feel dull shadows of the darkening day; weak repercussions

aftershocks

I see a traveler at the gate

I take his heart in my hands

And whisper to his

empty mind



"Take Heed My Friend, Blacken The Wine"

Wow. Very cool; don't understand the full meaning, but from what I gather it's someone whose lust or desire overtook him, and now warns others too. Very cool story/song sort of element to it with the characters and how it echoes the beginning at the end.

Sometimes


it is better to let words go unwritten

and to cease to speak.

Let these words go unspoken.

One that feels it doesn't need a reply. Yet I will say I understand. There is indeed a time for silence.

"Can't Win The Argument"



"Lafayette has laughed at me;
what am I to say?
I try to argue sensibly
he intones "Bastille day".


How can I change them?
Their moving too fast
I minister to their present
it is already their past.


And who am I to speak?
My throat has rusted over
the pipes have creaked and cracked
flowing like a creek from my mouth

from a crack in my mouth

all the words fell out

Let me make you."

Oops: I'll just note that you used 'their' instead of 'they're' ~_^ Unless it was intentional, such as 'their moving' as talking about their movement.
I get the picture of someone like a witness on the street, or an evangelist, wanting to change these people but lacking the words or convincing argument. I've been there; still am there. Guess it's looking to God and asking him for the times, opportunities and words that I need to do when I feel like this. But um.... sorry if that's off track. ^_^"

"Tremble and Trill"


I am a pool of shifting water


I am dust upon the pond.


The wind trills, then trembles;

my surface is disturbed


the reflection of the Sky

broken by the branches of long dead trees

Wow... so many things I could take out of here. Sky to me could symbolise God... dead trees, obstacles of undetermined kind, a pool of water, shifted so easily by events... short but with a lot of depth that could be explored. Another great one to leave me thinking. ^_^

Thank you for more of your poetry, and I'm sorry that once again it's taken me some time to get around to it.

Take care, poet.