r3peata

Biography

I'm picking up poetry again after many years to keep myself busy and to have a creative outlet I can engage in at any time.

Samples

'The Nepalese Shepard' Black-pelt swag, mountain rags, a scar upon his face On his hip a flask would sag as valleys he would trace Marking places past the borders over foreign sands Sipping mad concoctions from a can, libations for the damned And he is a Gemini, he never walks alone Chatters back and forth to himself, his mind is his home His mouth is his throne, his words are of his bones His knife is his pen and his skin is made of stone His birth was a mystery, he appeared to never grow His home is in a black-hole but of the stars he'd never know His lips are never closed but of his home he never spoke His bow is made of shadows and his arrows made of smoke His heart is made of lead, heavy strong and quick to dent Apollo blessed him with his humming, bringing music to his breath His hatchet leaves a cleft, he makes a mark on several trees Placing stones and scorching grasslands as he set upon the breeze There's nowhere he cannot go but below Earth he cannot be So he moves on in silence and climbs above the canopy He is never clean, rusty dirt upon his knees He is always hunting and his hands refuse to sleep A talisman he keeps, the form of his abandoned flock He creates a fire from nothing and he keeps this secret locked Tales of destruction and forwarning he imparts Those who heard would listen as his first word is his last The second sun of a solar system of many worlds Never did the shepard ever pleasure from a pearl Never did he stumble nor did he ever know a kiss He keeps the names of all who've died by his bow on a list He holds the heavens in his hand but always makes a fist And he has memento mori tattooed on his wrists He knows of all the people and he knows of all the towns He knows the lies of steeples and the truth among the clowns He doesn't know where he is to die and little does he care Wherever he would set himself, he'd make his own truth there He knows his death may come among the season of dispair But the Nepalese shepard builds a universe from air

All poems are copyright of the originating author. Permission must be obtained before using or performing others' poems.