Cinema of Light and Shadow: Poetry of GhostontheNet

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Cinema of Light and Shadow: Poetry of GhostontheNet

Postby GhostontheNet » Sun May 03, 2009 3:13 pm

A Letter to Death

Sweet mistress,
I beg your patience
Just a little while longer
Though many years you have courted me
Absence makes the heart go fonder

Yes, I know you are a persistent woman
And in the end no one can escape from your embrace
But if I could, I doubt I would want to
For though widely feared, there is still softness within your face

Of all the women I have ever known
None have surpassed you in fond affection or in patronage
And if I were to submit to your cold caress
I'm sure it would be paradise

But though I'm so lonely I think I might wilt
A holy leper left out in the storm
And though no one will ever dare touch me
I still have so much left to live for

It happened once upon a desolate Spring
That I fell lost and abandoned within the world
It was then that you came and taught me
'A simple craft will keep a man from want'

'Consider the spider as she weaves her web
Though lowly and despised by all that she sees
She mingles her pain along with her string
And with it she spins her glistening silk tapestry'

So I set forth in search of my magnum opus
And the sad veil of tears was lifted from my face
Everything fell away and I left myself behind
Abandoning my cares among the lilies

But now it seems I will forever be lonely
And I often use my hands only to bury my face
Even friends, alas, can open old scars
And I long for one solitary sign of grace

Merciful mistress,
You show mankind there is a set duration to suffering
Sweet belle of the ball, you save the last dance for everyone equally
Your cruelty you show only to the unsuspecting
You crush every oppressor and make desolate the throne of kings

To the lowly and downtrodden you give repose
To the sick and tormented you lend shelter from the sun
In your shadow is the awakening of wonder and beauty
You lead us to gardens in trembling anticipation of things to come

If there is terror in the appearance of your form
It is the reflection of our faces within your eyes
And though defeated, you are graceful
Waiting patiently upon the keeper of the keys

Your reputation has it that you laugh at all supplication
But I heard a rumor that you have lost your sting
So take me when you will, but tempt me no further
And lay me to rest by the garden gate
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Are You OK?

Postby GhostontheNet » Fri May 08, 2009 2:21 pm

Are You OK?

Are you OK?
Silently my heart sinks into shadowy fear
As I wait for an answer, the minutes pass ever so slowly
Against the ravages of time, I fear there will be no end to my tears

Are you OK?
I too am a man of sorrows, and acquainted with grief
And though I no longer fear the Reaper's beckoning
The same cannot be said for a beloved one suffering

Are you OK?
The march of time has also taught me courage and enduring
So please answer truthfully when you speak
In this fallen world the only despair is lack of honesty

Are you OK?
I felt an ominous premonition while watching the movie screen
And though I lay in bed, I could find no rest
But while frightened, I know it's probably nothing

Are you OK?
Did you know I've spent my life surrounded by sickness and suffering?
Now miracles and tragedies are really nothing new for me
Just a little shock and a lot more grief

Are you OK?
Please answer, therefore, my solemn query
And answer it in a spirit of sincerity
Remembering always our shared friendship and piety
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Postby coffeehubby » Sat May 09, 2009 6:04 pm

Wow!
You write as if you've lived a long hard life but I sense you are a bit younger than this writing makes you seem. I'm not sure how to conceptualize death or heaven, if the sting is taken out because we simply resign in acquience...just give in...or is death conquered in tangible ways through the cross so after death children really play football again, where awards are given the forgotten here? I hope heaven isn't a ghosty exsistance. I hope in heaven I will see those I lost and know them as people, not just spirits.
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Postby GhostontheNet » Sun May 10, 2009 1:47 am

[Quote=coffeehubby]Wow!
You write as if you've lived a long hard life but I sense you are a bit younger than this writing makes you seem. I'm not sure how to conceptualize death or heaven, if the sting is taken out because we simply resign in acquience...just give in...or is death conquered in tangible ways through the cross so after death children really play football again, where awards are given the forgotten here? I hope heaven isn't a ghosty exsistance. I hope in heaven I will see those I lost and know them as people, not just spirits.[/QUOTE] Well, suffice to say I've had to compact a lot of experience in a comparatively small number of years, and people have been telling me I am wise beyond my years since I was very young. I'll have to get back to you on conceptualizing death and heaven, preferably writing when my thoughts are clearer than they are presently at 1:35 A.M. It is important to emphasize that Christianity does not believe that a blissfully disembodied mode of existence in heaven is the final state of the dead. Rather, such a mode of existence would be best described as an interim state preceeding the final resurrection, in which all people who have ever lived on earth will be raised up to a mode of being as fully bodily as Jesus himself when he rose from the dead. As such, while such a thing is never mentioned explicitly in scripture, it would not surprise me if we would see a certain kind of athleticism there, although fundamental shifts in the nature of a fully reconciled society would seem to undermine some of the basic assumptions of worldly sports (i.e. competition, rivalry, and aggression). Scripture is more explicit, however, that God will give honor to those to whom honor is due in the final resurrection, and Paul counsels Christians to "be steadfast, immovable, always abounding in the work of the Lord, knowing that in the Lord your labor is not in vain." (1 Corinthians 15:58 ESV)

Now, in the same chapter just before those words, Paul simultaneously quotes Isaiah and Hosea, and concludes "'Death is swallowed up in victory.' 'O death, where is your victory? O death, where is your sting?' The sting of death is sin, and the power of sin is the law. But thanks be to God, who gives us the victory through our Lord Jesus Christ." (1 Corinthians 15:54-56) Just as my own poem implies that the fear of death is chiefly related to our grotesque distortion of our own divinely ordained identities (our true face, if you like), so Paul remarks that "The sting of death is sin, and the power of sin is the law." Throughout human history, from the time we first have evidence for the burial of the dead up to the present day, humanity has regarded death as the moment when the numinous, the basic source of apprehension of all that is holy, breaks into the common life and erases the divisions between the two. In Paul's worldview, this recognition of the holy within the universe is the sign that God has written his law in the human heart so that humanity may know him, which was effectively confirmed by the advent of the Torah, which gave the covenant by which God's will could be known and God himself could be accessed. However, because humanity is fallen, the law had the effect of showing man or woman the inadequacy of his or her own condition, which produced anxiety and terror in the light of impending death and judgment because it would sever access to God and bring about a condition of irreperable shame and despair. Well, says Paul, now that Christ has initiated the new covenant in his blood, and has risen from the dead, the sting of death has been removed because Christ has mediated the reconciliation between God and humanity, and now all who believe in him can by no means be separated from God's holy love. This too applies to other kinds of fear of death, such as the fear of annihilation, separation, or futility.

The key to overcoming the fear of death, then, is to internalize that Christ has risen from the grave and imparted God's grace. And so, concludes Paul, "I am convinced that neither death nor life, neither angels nor demons, neither the present nor the future, nor any powers, neither height nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God that is in Christ Jesus our Lord." (Romans 8:38 ESV) This poem was largely written in the context of a sort of long-standing deathwish that has often tempted me to die long before it is my time, and before I can really achieve the full extent of my divine calling. Every Christian faces their own temptations, and like any temptation, it is here true when Paul writes that "No temptation has seized you except what is common to man. And God is faithful; he will not let you be tempted beyond what you can bear. But when you are tempted, he will also provide a way out so that you can stand up under it." (1 Corinthians 10:13 ESV) Here then, I plead with Death that she not tempt me to die prematurely, but to save herself for the day that is my own. So no, death's sting is not lost by mere surrender to her (that would be disastrous advice to the lost), but by the work of Christ, who is the holder of the keys of death in Revelation 1:18, and who has rendered death graceful in defeat as agent of divine grace.
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Postby Reon » Sun May 10, 2009 2:28 am

Beautiful.
[color="DimGray"]
[SIZE="1"][font="Arial Narrow"]....[/font][/SIZE]
[/color]
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Postby GhostontheNet » Sun May 10, 2009 9:32 am

Reon (post: 1310538) wrote:Beautiful.
Thank you!
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The Crow that Wished to Be a Songbird

Postby GhostontheNet » Fri May 15, 2009 1:17 am

The Crow that Wished to Be a Songbird

I am the crow that
Wishing to be a songbird
Pretended to be a nightingale
When the other crows heard this
They laughed me to scorn
And then descended in a murder
To shatter my fragile wings
And devour me whole

Making my escape
Through the hollow of a tree
There I waited inside
Until courage again found me
Emerging from the bark and looking around
I noticed the songbirds were puzzled
By the sound of my course voice
Which was sung as if it might
Actually possess some beauty

Some of the songbirds made laughter
And some of them took pity
But none saw within my birdsong
Any measure of remaining dignity
And as to my own flock
Now they have abandoned me
And would rip me apart if ever they found me

Now I stand before you a broken crow
An unwanted thorn in the side of mediocrity
Unrecognized and unknown with a shattered jigsaw feeling
Scavenging the world for scraps of identity
But I know I'm not alone, and I know we're ever ready
To confound that dowdy flock with a sharp-honed nerve
Because we're painted birds by our own design
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Fearing the Forest for All the Trees

Postby GhostontheNet » Mon May 18, 2009 7:55 am

Fearing the Forest for All the Trees

This is the squeamish feeling
The child's fear of going into the forest
For fear of unspeakable monsters and wild beasts
And the city of gingerbread tricksters
Home now is a word undefined
And its meaning must be improvised
But though we wander, we are not yet lost
For while the birds eat all our breadcrumbs
We still have our memories
And God's grace to guide the way
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Postby shade of dae » Wed May 27, 2009 2:59 pm

I saw some of your poetry on your blog and wanted to comment, but I didn't have an account, so I'm glad you decided to post them here too.
Personally, I've found all of your poetry to be enjoyable, because, while they have distinct Gothic tones, they also carry a message of hope.

This one is probably my favorite though:
GhostontheNet (post: 1312754) wrote:Fearing the Forest for All the Trees

This is the squeamish feeling
The child's fear of going into the forest
For fear of unspeakable monsters and wild beasts
And the city of gingerbread tricksters
Home now is a word undefined
And its meaning must be improvised
But though we wander, we are not yet lost
For while the birds eat all our breadcrumbs
We still have our memories
And God's grace to guide the way

The way you mixed fairytale references with a scriptural theme was out of the ordinary, yet nicely done. Keep it up!
MAL

What call have I to dream of anything?
I am a wolf. Back to the world again,
And speech of fellow-brutes that once were men
Our throats can bark for slaughter: cannot sing.
-C.S. Lewis
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Postby GhostontheNet » Wed May 27, 2009 6:21 pm

shade of dae (post: 1315024) wrote:I saw some of your poetry on your blog and wanted to comment, but I didn't have an account, so I'm glad you decided to post them here too.
Personally, I've found all of your poetry to be enjoyable, because, while they have distinct Gothic tones, they also carry a message of hope.

This one is probably my favorite though:

The way you mixed fairytale references with a scriptural theme was out of the ordinary, yet nicely done. Keep it up!
Thank you very much! As it so happens, the Brothers Grimm's telling of Hansel and Gretel already had the Christian element, I just made sure to incorporate it. In his telling, because their earthly father has abandoned them into the forest, Hansel counsels Gretel to take courage that their heavenly Father will not forsake them.
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