The Noble Exhumed -- Nightmares Pile Like Bodies

This is the Noble Exhumed. I hope that what you find here, these reflections of mine, resonate somewhere within you, too. Poetry is a way to make myself feel like my soul isn't alone in this western civillization of isolation. With every word you take the time to read, you the Reader have my gratitude.

Serious enough for you? Anyway, my favorite poets include (but are not limited to) Hart Crane, W.B. Yeats, Edgar Allan Poe, and the primary lyricists from a few bands, like Geddy Lee (vocalist-Rush), Davey Havok (Vocalist-AFI + Blaqk Audio), and Claudio Sanchez (Coheed & Cambria + The Prize Fighter Inferno.) These articulate geniuses are a constant inspiration to me.

There is nothing I love more than feedback, and so, if you have something to say...I want to hear it. Express your thoughts on my expression, by all means.


All Is Lost And Lost Have All

Ace to your deuce and all the cards are left falling. Smoldering lips burn through waxed paper, and give me all the wrong reasons. I threw the Joker away, yet it returns on pedaling feet. Can you tell me why it hurts? Give me a deathwish, and I'll hold it for you. The future is bleak. Upon a pedestal of ash I left my threnody, my singing effigy. Wind the clock back until the numbers are no longer real, until my existence is merely your precognition. Reach into the deck and I'll deal the hand pointing to seven. Time's up, and we're finished. Shall we play again, or are the cards too fragile? Consideration unto obliteration. The game we play lacks definition.

LAWL. Good job Shade, glad I helped you inspire the first two lines.

So much System of a Down inspiration in this forum...

This is my newest poem (featured in my signature), dedicated to a certain someone. If you noticed, I like short poems.


Lost
in a grave of buried thoughts
there is a youth who lies in wait
of hallowed footfalls
A candle burns
while he rests
until his love
appears again.

Originally Posted by Shade

This is my newest poem (featured in my signature), dedicated to a certain someone. If you noticed, I like short poems.


Lost
in a grave of buried thoughts
there is a youth who lies in wait
of hallowed footfalls
A candle burns
while he rests
until his love
appears again.

Wow... That has a realy deep meaning.... Good work! That was amazing!

Thanks. I wish these sudden spurs of poetry would happen more often. Although, to be honest, I'm not sure the words are that deep. They just express love and longing, nothing more complicated than that.

This poem is dedicated to a very special someone.

Angel's Face

I tell you of wonder :
a girl with brown hair
blessed with holy sheen,
eyes of the summer sky
lips of soft pink,
skin of pleasant cream.
When I gaze into her eyes,
I see all that is to be seen.
When she appears,
As if in a dream,
I feel the colors fade
into a monochromatic shade;
such is the worldly trace
of the heavenly grace
in the angel's face.

'Angel's Face' is lovely, particularly in that your descriptions are creative, giving the reader a clear and singular vision of the person you're describing. The lines I especially liked are the following:

When she appears,
As if in a dream,
I feel the colors fade
into a monochromatic shade;

It really augments the angelic impression the title and poem seek to convey. Great work!

Thanks, Selah! Here's another poem I've had for a long time:

Silence kills
As you tremble before that old familiar presence, that blinding light.
It takes you, ruptures flesh from soul, leaving you untethered; to pass through the
Dripping ceiling, and to look down upon what our fathers created.

Lo! Is it not beautiful? Fallen trees and concrete jungles decay in lost cause.
The streets are carved with a looking glass
witness the truth of insincerity.
Take wing as the cataclysm passes; mother splitting in two to reveal her burning secret.

The clouds part, knowing this is the concluding act.
A shining apparition in white leads with flaming sword in hand, sending shades of matching color to spar with those of black.
A tumultuous echo clamors as the unseeable stares through you
Unfathomable knowing.
He swings

The fanged mouth releases spray of crimson
He crushes the head in descending foot’s wake;
Ending the ultimate clash.
The remaining dim phantoms disintegrate, leaving you to rise by gravity of fate
To the opening of the void, and you see me, rising beside you…
Glass-windowed pillars beneath us collapse to powder--

As I smile.

Here's the one I wrote last night:

Modesty vs. Honesty

Even beyond the unbroken smoke,
I see the true reason I feel the urge
to emerge
From the death of unconsciousness.
You, eternally humble,
act as though
you can find
self-imperfection.
Can it be, those lovely eyes
See flaws in the flawless?
As those above the clouds will say,
"The meek shall be exalted,"
If so, am I wrong,
To hold your name on high?

This poem goes out to the same girl as the last, and I wrote it last night.

The Beach

Long ago
I saw a sight
that could delight
anyone on Earth.

It was a stone
That warmed my bones
with a gentle glow.

It gave my heart
a soaring start,
and wordlessly showed me
there can be beautiful things
in Life,
that do not scorn.

I never truly touched
that stone with my hands;
It was too precious.

I touched that stone
with my mind;
It was kind, so kind.

After a long while
I saw a blue
of a colder hue
approach the shore.

I ignored.

My eyes were locked
on the lovely form
of that perfect rock.

In time,
I grew to appreciate
every crack, scratch and shine
as a most perfect art.

However,
Before I knew it had begun,
cold blue drew lines
around my stone,
as if for fun.

Frantically
I grab
grain
after
grain
in sunburned hands
a frail attempt
to suspend my love
on a pillar
of sand
no matter
how high
or grand I build
it collapses
into cold defeat....
My tears are masked by the ocean.

I had crafted a pillar
and in turn,
dug myself a hole.

Buried to the neck
in my shattered plans
I see now
the stone who was really a girl
floats freely in the water, still near.

Even though she isn't truly away,
and I feel comforted by her light,
I hope that one day,
She will drift back to my lonely palace of sand
and stay.

Hello, Shade, 'The Beach' was an excellent poem! There were many instances of great imagery throughout your poem, I especially liked the description of the stone, and the palace of sand pillars. The bittersweetness of it was in perfect balance, I thought.

Originally Posted by Shade

Okay, this very first poem sucks, but I like the rest.

"Untitled"
I knew I had that wrong.
Lee and Lars...for me, an easy mistake.
Kill the hampster and go home.
I think I see chocolate.

???

I didn't get it. So you killed the hampster and crapped in your home?

Originally Posted by Elijah

???

I didn't get it. So you killed the hampster and crapped in your home?

You obviously don't have an eye for figurative language and symbolic writing.

granted... I don't understand it at all, either. Care to explain the symbolism of the hamster? Or whether it relates to some real life hamster?

That poem was a joke, dudes. Look at the REAL poetry.

I love all your poems. ^_^ Yeah, except for that first one. *cough* It's a joke *cough* You have a really good ability at creatively expressing yourself, and you convey emotion really well, too. Can't wait to see more! ^_^

I agree whole-heartedly. Knowing the meaning behind everything allows it to dig a bit deeper into my heart. Ah, if only I were capable of such expression...but alas, my hand in poetry is notably less nimble than it could be. *sighs* Well, my doppelganger, good luck with everything.

Thanks, guys. I really appreciate your appraisals. ^^

All Is Lost And Lost Have All strikes me as rather complex in the puzzle of imagery and connotation it puts forth. I think of a card game, spiraling into a melange of embers and waxed paper, literal interpretations (Give me a deathwish, and I'll hold it for you.), clocks, poetry. And then, it is again a card game, though still the phantom clock lingers (Reach into the deck and I'll deal the hand pointing to seven.) I like the brevity of the piece - it gives the reader the opportunity to read and consider it multiple times.

The Tradeoff is also a very powerful poem. I always cry when I read poems like that, The Tradeoff being no exception. It puts me in mind of a play - the spotlight is on your suicidal protagonist, about to pull the trigger when whist! there, from the shaded corner a light comes gradually into being, illuminating a figure, crowned in thorns, surrounded by malevolent crowd...

Write more!

- Selah

Your poetry rocks my socks. Very dark and mysterious...

All Is Lost And Lost Have All seems like a song. Those would be very good lyrics.