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	Scott Clark
	PROFIL O autorze Przyjaciele (4) Poezja (32) Proza (14)

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Scott Clark, 23 grudnia 2011

"Crimson Vase"

"Crimson Vase
your primrose fades,
there is dust upon the shelving.
The spider climbs
along your side,
and who knows just why he is delving."
The friends, indeed, for lonely flowers
are only but a few,
'cause no one cares for a crimson vase,
though beauty lies in you.
"Time has wrought no harm or shame
upon your reddish tone,
but what has made your glory shine
was forgotten,
left alone."
"Crimson vase
I knew you well,
you were brought here with caress.
They made you shine
'cause your flowers gave hope
to the soul so lost in sadness."
"But the friends you have for those lonely
flowers
are now only but a few.
Oh, Crimson Vase
what unfair fate
that now no one cares for you!"

liczba komentarzy: 1 | punkty: 8 | szczegóły

Scott Clark, 25 marca 2012

The Indigenous Capsicum or Loathsome Meditations

Presis:

Ah frightens to I nuwe you nore,
Whit Sun nor erth could shore.
My glee did gloat to wiff da snit
dat run to view no moor.

Cammire ya wit an’ tell da lore
Let’s teez dat plutos’ shore
‘n view dat lit dat squince me eyes
‘n minds me of erths poor.

Quite Jon ‘n Jill ya nasty nits
Lend yar ear ‘n ear dis tail.
Its lore to learn to pin yar wits
‘n sharpen ya ponny dale.

Tale:

Fangs of Jans-berg stint no more pain den dat of dis jewl.
Lo it comes ner breath o latter noon, preathing creat ‘n wetted lips
Drewlin pangs ‘n pung. What snew! What dung! Crelling lo , …..da
PrangerStint.
Shewww, shusssshh, hush yar yap, ner dart nor yip yer tong. PrangerStint
das ears awl. Spys awl. Snits awl.

Sense:

Spit and Spin when yar anger steams,
-keep yar pot a boilin.
Though God and Michael defend ya dear,
still nuttin’ will stop yar toilin’.

Da Johnny feast ‘n swells his pot
‘n makes his dear the dearer.
Wilest Jimmy spies ‘n wishes hope
‘n prays his joy was nearer.

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Scott Clark, 25 marca 2012

Below the Trees

Below the trees the forest weeps
on dank cold moldy ground.
But wormy roots still drink the soot
And rejoice how life is found.

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Scott Clark, 29 lutego 2012

A Rose

A Rose,
Arose-
Ahhh, …..Rose!

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Scott Clark, 1 kwietnia 2022

I See You Afar

At times I see you afar, in mind’s eye,
Calling this heart and affording a sigh.
A bit o’ pause, a bit o’ rush.
Listen girl, the silence…now hush.
Ah, that my tears had wings!
And my grief be heavenward
My soul bluely sings
A price none could afford.
Tears are never bought nor sold
Yet they are sweet, precious and never grow old.

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Scott Clark, 9 czerwca 2014

“Stirred Grit”

Mean as stirred grit,
reach in
and pick none of it,
Load bullets,
Frick it.
Its just grit.
Don't need this... shit!
Or that... to wit,
just my bullets,
Power slivers,
make ya shiver,
and dem quiver.
They will deliver
Believe me,
you'll see....
Pea!

…...................BANG!!!!

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Scott Clark, 9 czerwca 2014

Dreary Days

The dreary days of yesterday have gone about the morrow,
while we dwell in this fine day lets forget about our sorrow.

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Scott Clark, 3 października 2013

Golem Land

A golem land of misty dreams.
Solemn and
what it seems.
Abondoned, lonely, possessed with fear
Listen well, hear it whisper "Come near , Come near."

Walk more careful, step more slow.
Avoid to find what demons know.
What lyes between death and dread
What lyes beyond, behind, ahead.
Who will comfort
all have gone
Just you inside this land alone.

Something scatters in the darkness
fast
Someone screams "Alone at last!"
Someone moans, cries, then yells
"Take me away!
Wicked spells!"

An ugly beast moves down the trail,
Your body is frozen, weak and frail.
Eyes of blood
teeth sharp and wet.
His claws reach out
His victim set.

You die again
a gruesome plight.
You awake and find a moonlit night.
Look around
this you find.
Grab your head
you loose your mind,
'A golem land of misty dreams
solemn and what it seems............"

liczba komentarzy: 0 | punkty: 0 | szczegóły

Scott Clark, 3 października 2013

Albatrose

Come, Albatrose
and see my plight.
Ships are safe by ocean's tide
Let lifes' wings lift me out
up on thy glorious side.

Alas, still thou dost sail
amidst thy freedom and seest not my fall.
Thy wings are spread
Thy beauty assails
but how thy faith is small.

Vulturous belly
but beauteous fair
thou maiden of the sea
You fail not in thine own appitites
but in vain thou
comfortest me.

liczba komentarzy: 0 | punkty: 2 | szczegóły

Scott Clark, 3 października 2013

Constant Blue

Breathe o’er here, oh, Constant Blue. And let those lips be fair!
Blow yer fife fine, tickle this ear, and let yer nothing be new!
Ida, find that blowing sucker and give ‘em less than full
Whilst I dance me merry twiddle feet round and round ‘da stool.

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10 - 30 - 100

Najnowsze prace:

Poezja

"Crimson Vase"

The Indigenous Capsicum or Loathsome Meditations

Below the Trees

A Rose

I See You Afar

“Stirred Grit”

Dreary Days

Golem Land

Albatrose

Constant Blue

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