Now that the short Wolf’s Den series using poetry to target and explore individual emotions is complete, I decided to place it into a compilation post here. Obviously I did not target every human emotion for a poem, only a few of the many. Below you will find each poem listed and prior to each is a short description of the layout or energy of it.
I do not think it possible to create a poem, painting or any other form of artistic expression unless the content is coming from someplace within the individual creating it. Likewise, each of these poems was created by me tapping into each respective emotion inside myself. The objective was to literally dredge the emotional core of each emotions content and energy and let flow outward through written word in a poetic form. Therefore I needed to not only find and tap each emotion, but use truth to be honest with myself about the feeling, honor to literally honor the presence of the emotion in my physical existence, and discipline to funnel the raw energy/feeling into a refined state of verbal expression; to make clear the non-physical emotional states.
Since joy comes from the primal energy of the heart I find it to be light and complex, like roots weaving through time itself as they carry the continual exploration of the perceived self through space. The wording therefore had to try mimicking that complex flow of multilayered experience of which joy seems to bond; physical and non-physical and the many facets of both.
A flower blooms within my soul
bright and fragile,
touching threads of rainbow rivers
filling lands with smiling dreams.
Lifted wings take flight of mind
cross quaking leaf of blue,
through gleaming ray of midnight sighs
to settle in an ancient lullaby.
Waking wide swept in mornings drift,
the joy that floats beside my tracks
swiftly from my hearts dewy mist
reaches far to brush the weightless
and wandering gift.
Birthright of our hearts glowing as red coals,
heats the core of darkened peace of which we all grew,
embers of life flowing out
of a path lined in golden hue.
From earth to sky
and star to cave the melodies weave through.
Bubbling happy tastes spring from core
draped green as the richness of the forest
and its lore,
spoke and sung, walked and run, slept and awake
a gift of joy molds evermore.
The emotion hate is, like joy, something that forms out of a more complex inner dynamic then say wrath. It has a thought out place and purpose that is derived from the richness of experience and the processes of emotional thought. I find hate to be a combination effort of both heart and brain as they attempt to dredge complex adverse experiences for meaning where many times the brain and heart cannot truly understand.
Feel the anger coming,
feel the rage running,
feel the life-force burning,
consuming your damn flesh!
Cross my path and demons crawl out
the fissure of my soul,
hunt you down and crush your life
before to the wailing of a broken angles hole.
Rip your heart from a throne of sticks
to burn in my pyre,
and I watch the film of lies play out
in the ashes of your wick.
Send you to your god whose
foot’s upon his slaves
crushing every breath from their withered veins.
A god of dominion breeds slaves
mirroring the same,
righteousness in your mind festers
like the rotting corpse of shame.
You thought you were like me,
you have not a clue,
the hate that’s inside me
that I’ve got for you,
it boils and froths in violence and rage,
needing to reach out and destroy
that pathetic shell you call a life,
a manipulators view,
a foul decoy.
The happiness emotion is one of those fleeting ones that is based upon temporary positioning of the senses in the judged feeling of “feeling good”. It is an emotion that society uses to make the population feel bad about themselves in order to gain their dissatisfaction so people will continually seek outside themselves for pleasure. This outer pursuit and idea that we need to be continually happy is a trap that shuffles the masses into a control game of manipulation. Marketing experts use happiness against people to gain their money all the time. You will notice this poem is very different than the poem on Joy, because happiness is surface and fleeting while joy is deep and can be upheld for long periods of time even if happiness is absent on the outside.
Gold dripping from my fingers pooling round
my dancing feet,
sparkling upward in my smile
like a song bird woven crown.
Reaching, reaching outward bound
wishing for the miles
to lessen haste and reward me
with a silver isle.
Glittering jewel like a sparkling star
in my palm of flesh,
evoking wonder, torn asunder
any sadness trying to mar.
Leaping and twirling cross meadows
filled with flower hues ,
like butterfly wings oh mind be free
and grasses grace an earthen cello.
My heart immersed in happiness,
filling up with every dream realized,
into an eye of the sun
we swim through seasons giddiness.
Depression is, well, depressing. It is an emotion that truly undermines the integrity of the heart and will to exist. This emotion is rather like a personal vortex in-which everything gets sucked into and drowned in hopelessness. Unlike sadness, depression can be long lasting, chronic and fully consuming. Depression can be very dangerous because a person can easily get lost in that vortex and lose all sight of even the will to live.
Lost and forgotten,
what we all become
in this world of dirt.
Tides of time
like a plastic hood
stretched around an empty face.
Born into pain
upon a gods death stage,
dancing in shadows
with sand running from our fingers.
Swallowed by stagnant oceans
of dreams temporary, fleeting;
in a pointless space
as we are ravaged within
by life created to devour us living.
Claustrophobic inside our heads,
alone where no one can touch,
wandering unfathomable depths
of confusion unending;
forcing us to weave fantasies
to coo the fear of our inevitable annihilation.
Like picking at a wound that will never heal
death’s promise kisses our reality
never letting us go
until we are gone.
Wrath is unlike anger and even hate. It does not compromise. It has no complexity. Wrath is very straight-forward and set in its intention. This emotion runs inside tunnel vision, without dynamic or hope of branching off into something else. Wrath is the end result emotion that can only be resolved through destruction. Anger and hate can both be reasoned with and trained to create in other forms. Wrath cannot. It will even destroy the container (the person) in its pursuit of expressing itself without a second thought. I think the poem that I pulled from the wrath within demonstrates its resolve and simplicity quite well.
Put that son-a-bitch down,
put his hide into the ground!
Fuck his soul
and rape his wife,
gut his children with my knife!
Burn his house and
erase his memory
from the land!
My ways are righteous,
they are grand
if ya don’t agree
you’re just like them
I’ll get my gun and kill again!
with iron fist,
all its lies
just a pile of shit!
Acid boils through heart stained
mind ripped asunder
slave and master everywhere
suckin on a gun
without a care,
gonna die the same
no matter where!
My wraths for you
make no mistake,
its comin down until you break!
Courage is an interesting emotion as it seems to be created from dynamic of opposites; finding its true face within the mirrored difference of itself. Courage comes out of fear and the integral understanding of dynamic within a carnal knowing of its working within the self. Courage must grow out of select channels within a person that have been forged by genetics and the infusion of both brain and heart in their pursuit of preservation, a preservation of life as we know it.
Rooted deep into the core
of a cause beyond the self
reach within, beyond the door;
finding strength where others fell
in the grist of patience,
courage rises out the wishing well.
As the iron of a willow
and the giving of an oak
touch threads weaving my bones
forming a protective moat.
Firmly stood with wings of heart,
driving storm stands me tall
as the shadow in the dark;
unmoved by strife,
time or the nothing
my resolve reaches through the afterlife.
This dreary emotion is as common as a common cold. Like happiness, sadness is fleeting and a more surface emotional state, even if it is hard to feel that when we are swept up by it. However, though sadness is fleeting and surface, it can be a very dynamic emotion containing great complexity because I think most people carry it under their skin more often than not. I think it is rather like the common cold virus; we all have it inside us all the time, but we are not sick with it all the time. When our immune systems are strong we are able to ward the virus off, but when we weaken it catches up to us. Sadness seems to be the same and I think it’s because we live in a world and physical existence that none of us truly understand, and so much remains unknown and seemingly uncontrollable.
Battle gray water drips, drips, drips upon the damp mud of my soul;
colorless halls of din saturated in cold mire,
sucking at the decaying joy tarnished like coal.
Seeping rain through the roof of my slate blue heart
echoes in the empty chilled mist,
belonging to the vast and lonesome space and forgotten art.
Sadness claws my battered breast with icy steel,
slinking trickles bleeding from my mind
raining in torrents crying discarded memories surreal.
Oppressive storm crushing my chest nether bound,
I flounder in wake of happiness once felt
before bleak tides of sorrow dragged me under to drown.
Oh loathsome sounds of misery, crying like dank clay,
cut and drain my withered core
thick and cold embedded in banks of inner dismay.
Washed and thin, diluted and uprooted
my life seems to drain away,
under foundations this flood erodes
to my utter pale beak saddened dismay.
This poem I wrote last year and obviously comes directly out of unresolved but continually approached regions of the self working through healing. It contains sadness, yes, as well grief, sorrow, depression, courage and fear, regret and even hope.
How do you bring back the dead
to tell them that you’re sorry
for taking their breath away
and leaving their body in a cold dark grave,
how do you bring them back from death,
back from beyond
to show them what is carried on
through a life that lingers?
Do they even care from the place they traveled to;
perhaps it doesn’t matter through the glass of time
in glancing the portal we all come through?
How do you bring back the dead
to tell them that you’re sorry
for the tracks they’ll never tread
upon the soil of the undead?
Though maybe death is only here
for the living that we are
since life as we know it ends
and can only go so far.
Dwelling after death could be easier in a way,
for here in life death is the master
always waiting to send us from night and day.
How do you carry the dead whose lives ended
through your life, upon your tracks,
within a path you’ve walked,
I would love to hear your thoughts, comments and feelings if you care to take the time to discuss in the comments section.